Ringing in Love (15 page)

“Now you're not sure.” It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

“I think I am. Maybe. I know what I want when you kiss me. Does that help?”

He smiled. “It soothes my ego quite a bit, yes. But if you're not so certain the rest of the time, then I'll be certain for both of us.”

The Escalade pulled up at the curb, and Dominic opened the door and helped Catherine in. When he was settled in the back he said, “We're going to Catherine's house, Jack.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” And they were off.

The traffic was light and they got to her townhouse quickly. Which was good because they said little, although Dominic kept his arm around her and had urged her to nestle her head into his shoulder, where it was so comfortable she wondered if she—if he—had made the right choice.

When Jack stopped in front of her home, Dominic told him to wait and walked Catherine to the door. He kissed her lightly then asked, “Are you going to work in the morning?”

“Probably. You?”

“Of course. How about lunch? Maybe we should regroup in broad daylight rather than—” he looked at his watch “—at almost one in the morning.”

“Lunch works, if you're sure you want to make any more plans with me.”

Although he avoided responding to her comment, he said, “Twelve thirty. My office.” He kissed her again. “See you then.”

“Your office? Not the deli?”

“I promise you a more interesting place to have lunch than the deli.” He walked down the steps to the Escalade, leaving her curious, frustrated, and completely unsure what to expect at lunch.

Catherine didn't sleep well. Her doubts and demons made sure she spent most of the night questioning herself about how she'd handled the evening at the Academy. And the questions were endless. Why had she reacted the way she had when she'd heard those two women gossiping? Was she afraid to put herself out there because she might be hurt? Had the old fear that Dominic wanted to get to know her for some nefarious business reason resurfaced? Or had she been, as Dominic suggested, merely surprised by the gossip about his reputation?

If the questions about herself were difficult to answer, the ones she came up with about Dominic were impossible to figure out. Would what happened at the Academy make him decide she couldn't handle being with him and it was simply not going to work between them? Why hadn't he kissed her good night the way he had kissed her at the beginning of their evening? Was it because he hadn't wanted to start something he wasn't going to be able to finish? Or was it because he wanted to back away from getting any closer to her?

Then there were the big ones: Should she have insisted on going to his place? And how many chances would she have with the first man she'd been interested in since … well, since forever?

No matter how she posed the questions, she couldn't begin to figure out what the right answers were. After all, he was Mister Sex on Legs, and she was “St. Catherine,” the woman who'd earned her reputation in high school and college by concentrating on classes, not guys. The few semi-serious relationships she'd had before she'd fallen for Andy Bennett hardly equipped her to deal with someone like Dominic. And since the divorce?
Niente
.

She almost called Tony, knowing with the time difference he might still be awake. But she decided it was too embarrassing to consult her little brother about her sex life. Not that she wouldn't have made his week complete with the phone call. After he stopped laughing at her, he'd make her apologize for years of lecturing him about his adventures with women when she was now asking his advice because of that experience.

She wore herself out in frustrating conversations with the little imps who inhabited her mind until she fell asleep about four a.m.

A long shower in the morning helped revive her. So did coffee and knowing she looked good, once she dressed in her favorite clothes. In fact, she took almost as much time getting ready to go to her office as she had getting ready for the opera the night before. No usual Saturday outfit of jeans and T-shirt today. She selected a pair of chocolate brown pants she knew fit her well, a tan, scoop neck crop top that hugged her body in an almost ladylike manner. She even wore her favorite spike heels, which meant she had to drive to work instead of getting her one shot of exercise for the week.

But she wanted to look good. If she couldn't remind Dominic he thought she was worth waiting for, at least she'd walk away with style when he let her go.

Maybe it was self-defense, maybe it was avoidance, but she was able to divert herself all morning with work. In fact, she was so involved with what she was doing, she was almost late for their twelve-thirty date. When she arrived at the fifteenth floor, she discovered an apparently deserted set of offices. Only Dominic was there, working on a laptop, glancing occasionally at a desktop computer or a thick memo. Focused on what he was doing, he didn't seem to realize she was standing in the door to his office, which gave her a chance to admire the scenery, as Melody had so aptly put it. He was in his usual Saturday jeans and Polo shirt. And he must have slept well, because he looked rested. And sexy. Damn. Why did he have to be so attractive?

“Knock, knock” she said. “It's twelve thirty.”

He looked up and smiled when he saw her. “Come in. I'm almost finished.”

“If you're not ready, I can come back.” She motioned toward the hall. “I can even, you know, postpone if you need to.”

In a few long strides, he was across the room and had his arms around her as if to make sure she didn't leave. “No,
cara
, don't go. Give me two minutes to get the computers shut down, and we'll have lunch.” He returned to his desk after a quick kiss on the top of her head.

She looked around for signs of food. “Do you want me to get something from the deli? Oh, maybe you had something delivered to one of your conference rooms. Or …”

“Patience, Catherine. Two minutes.” As he spoke, he clicked on the keyboard of the desktop computer then closed up the laptop. Finished with his work, he led her to the elevators and pulled out a key card.

“You have one more elevator door than we do on our floor,” Catherine said. “How come I never noticed it before?”

“Can't answer that. But I can tell you why. The original plan was for a white tablecloth restaurant on this floor with an outdoor space on the roof for eating in nice weather. This elevator was for food deliveries and access. It only opens on the first floor, here, and the roof.” He swiped the card and the door opened.

“I wanted this floor for our offices, not a restaurant,” he continued. “But the shaft for the elevator was already in. So I took advantage of it and had something added I've always wanted.”

As if obeying the wishes of the building owner, the door opened and revealed an urban garden like none Catherine had ever seen. It was more than grass and a few trees to look environmentally correct; it was a little bit of paradise in the middle of the city.

A large, triangular shelter composed of wisteria-covered lattice jutted out from the glass entry to the elevator hall. Flanking a slate floor were huge terra cotta pots with well-established shrubs and annual flowers in them. Two chairs and a table were arranged in the center to take in the view of the urban landscape. On the table was a tray covered with cloth towels. Lunch, she assumed.

A slate path, the pieces interspersed with mossy plants, led to the other side of the roof where the HVAC systems were discretely camouflaged by modestly sized trees now beginning to shed their leaves. On either side of the path were sections of grass bisected by large wooden raised planter boxes with what appeared to be tomatoes, lettuces, and herbs growing in them. She could hear the sounds of a water feature someplace nearby.

“This is amazing. How come I didn't see this when I got the tour of the building from the real estate agent?” Catherine asked.

“Because no one gets to come up here except me and whomever I bring with me. It's my private refuge,” Dominic explained.

“And it's perfectly beautiful.”

He gestured to the table. “Dave from the deli sent our lunch up. He said he wanted to surprise us, so I'm not sure what it is. But whatever it is, I imagine it'll include the tomatoes and lettuce he grows in those raised beds.”

What the deli manager had sent was a Cobb salad with, as predicted, tomatoes and lettuce from the garden in front of them, hard-cooked eggs, avocados, bacon, and blue cheese dressing accompanied by iced tea and fresh-baked rolls. The conversation during lunch was casual and light. Considering the evening before, which her night of sleeplessness had convinced her was a complete disaster, and considering she was unsure what to expect from Dominic, Catherine was surprised it was so easy to keep it going.

But finally, lunch was finished and she needed to broach the embarrassing subject. “About last night—”

He didn't let her finish. “I've thought about it and I think it would be better not to—”

Now it was her turn to interrupt. “What? You think it would be better not to … what?”

“You're awfully impatient today, Catherine. First, about lunch. Now this.”

“
Dannazione
, Russo. Spit it out. If you think we're doomed to have this, whatever it is between us, not work out, I understand. Two dates. Two disasters. If you want go back to coffee and an occasional elevator ride, please, tell me and get it over with.”

She hated the smirk on his face. Hated it. Wanted to wipe it off. Kiss it off. Something.

“You do swear in Italian, don't you?” he said. “And you're cranky today. You must not have slept well last night.”

“Dominic, so help me …”

He held up his hands as if to ward off any further words. “I was only going to say I think it would be better not to read too much into what happened. The gossip about my personal life is only slightly annoying to me because I'm used to it. You're not, so it's understandable it might upset you. I should have given you a heads up. I thought what Melody told you about my reputation would have prepared you, but I was wrong.”

Stunned into silence, Catherine struggled to find the right words.

“Have I said something you don't agree with?” Dominic asked, his smirk replaced with a slightly worried frown.

She took a deep breath. “Are you saying you still want to hang out with me?”

“I have a bit more than hanging out in mind, but, yes, that's the general idea.” He furrowed his brow. “Just one thing. Last night did arouse my curiosity about something. You don't have to if you don't want to, but would you tell me about Noah's father?”

Again, the conversation wasn't going in the direction she'd expected. “I don't mind, although I don't see what Andy has to do with anything.” She shrugged. “There's really not much to tell, anyway. We met in college his freshman year. I was two years ahead of him. We dated until I graduated, then reconnected when he was looking for a job. I persuaded my boss to hire him at the PR firm where I was working. We got married, had a baby, got divorced when Noah was almost ten.”

“So, you … what … grew apart? Was that the reason for the divorce?”

“Not exactly.” She didn't meet his stare, which seemed to be seeing straight into her soul.

“What exactly, if you don't mind telling me.”

She did mind. But she had the feeling this was important, maybe in figuring out her reaction at the Academy. “He fell in love with someone else. Someone he'd met in college after I graduated. She reappeared in his life and …” She stopped, reluctant still to admit her husband hadn't been faithful to her.

“And he had an affair?” Dominic prompted.

“Yes, and now he's married to her.”

“Did it make you doubt you could trust another man?”

“Maybe. I felt used by Andy, that's for sure. I got him the job he wanted and the son he wanted, but he made me feel that wasn't enough. I wasn't enough.” She felt self-conscious talking about herself this way but continued anyway. “It was hard to swallow. I'd been the oldest, most responsible, smartest kid in my family. But somehow he almost convinced me I was a failure, not interesting enough to keep his attention.”

“
Almost
convinced you?” He didn't say any more.

“Maybe, when everyone seemed so eager to see who you had brought to the event and those two nasty women talked about all the other women you'd been seen with and I remembered what Melody had said, maybe I thought I wasn't the kind of woman who'd interest you for very long.” She stopped to take a breath. “Maybe I didn't want to set myself up for the same thing happening again.” She couldn't look at him, afraid of what she might see.

“Don't you think I should have a say in what kind of woman interests me?” His voice was soft, sweet, warm.

“I guess so.”

“I know so. And here's what else I know—you're the most interesting woman—most interesting person—I've met in years.”

They were both silent for a long moment, neither one looking at the other. Suddenly they each turned to the other and said, almost simultaneously, “Dominic, I—” and “Catherine, I—”

There was laughter from them both, his amused, hers nervous.

“Ladies first,” he said.

“Can we do something together tonight, only the two of us? Without the rest of the city of Philadelphia?”

“I was about to ask you if I could make dinner for you tonight at my place. In fact, if you'd like …” He paused for a moment before adding, “I'd like to cook dinner for you tonight and breakfast for us tomorrow morning.”

Dominic didn't usually invite a woman to his place. His home was like his roof garden—a refuge. But Catherine was different. He'd wanted her there since the first time he'd had lunch with her, and he intended to make tonight as perfect as he could for them.