Swept Away by the Tycoon. Barbara Wallace
rush of warmth was almost tropical. Not as cozy feeling as at the café, but definitely welcome.
“I hate this weather,” Larissa said, unwinding her miles of scarf. “I thought it was supposed to be spring.”
“Early spring,” Chloe reminded her. “You know as well as I do, that doesn’t necessarily mean warm.”
“No kidding. Did you hear they are predicting rain this weekend? If I don’t see some sunshine soon, I’ll go crazy.”
“Cheer up. Another few weeks and you’ll be in Mexico sipping champagne.”
“The trip can’t come soon enough. I only hope Del gets good weather for her wedding.”
“Somehow, I don’t think Del and Simon care, so long as they get married.”
“True. Those two are so in love it’s sickening.”
Chloe had to agree. Both Delilah and their boss had worked late last night themselves. She wondered if they’d noticed she didn’t return from her coffee run, or if they were too caught up with each other. Simon’s door had been shut tight. She pressed a fist to her midsection. Inexplicably, thoughts of Simon and Delilah dissolved into an image of her and Ian, causing the fluttering sensation to return.
“You’re one to talk. You’ve got Tom,” she said, focusing her attention back where it belonged. Outward.
“I guess.” Busy pressing the elevator button, Larissa sounded distracted. “Hey, is this Ian guy cute?”
Cute was the last word she’d use to describe Ian Black. “He’s attractive. Why?”
She didn’t have to answer; Chloe knew the reason as soon as she asked the question, and it was a bad one. “I’m not interested in getting involved right now.”
“He’s a step up from the men you usually date. A lot better than Aiden, that’s for sure.”
Was he? At least with Aiden, what you saw was what you got. Ian, on the other hand.... She barely knew the man and she already could tell he ran deeper and stiller than most waters. There was a reason she preferred shallow. Men with depth left bigger scars when the relationship ended. The nicks and cuts caused by guys like Aiden hurt bad enough. Why invite bigger pain?
“You know, there’s no law that says people have to be in a relationship,” Chloe said as soon as the doors closed. Thankfully, no one joined them, meaning they could finish this conversation in private.
“No one ever said there was.”
“Then why do you keep pushing me to have one?”
“I’m not pushing anything. All I did was ask if this Ian person was good-looking. You’re the one who went off.”
Chloe looked at her shoes. Her friend was right. She had flown off the handle prematurely. “Sorry. Last night might have made me a bit oversensitive.”
“Can’t blame you there. If I’d been mugged, I’d be touchy, too. Although...” Larissa hesitated.
Glancing over, Chloe noticed her friend had literally bit her lip to keep from saying more. “Although what?” Might as well finish the whole discussion. When it came to certain subjects, Larissa could be relentless. Chloe’s love life was frequently one of those subjects. “Spit it out.”
“Fine,” she said. “You’re always so adamant about not wanting a serious relationship.”
“I happen to like being single.”
“So you say.” Arms folded, lips drawn in a tight line, her friend was a five-foot-two-inch block of doubt. “I can’t help wondering, who you’re trying so hard to convince with your argument. Me? Or yourself?”
* * *
Under normal circumstances, Saturday morning meant sleeping in and drinking coffee in her pajamas. This Saturday, however, the bridal salon called to say her dress for Delilah’s wedding was ready, so instead of being happily curled up under her comforter, Chloe found herself making the trek uptown. She wanted to run her errands before the rain started.
And she wanted to avoid Larissa. Chloe was still annoyed with her for that comment on the elevator. Who was she trying to convince, indeed. What a stupid question. Why would she need to convince herself of something she’d known for years? La-roo’s problem was that she had an overdeveloped sense of romanticism. Her whole world consisted of brides, weddings and babies. Chloe was far more practical. She’d much rather preserve her self-esteem than chase some useless fantasy.
Thankfully, Larissa didn’t notice how she’d dodged the original question: whether Ian was attractive. Big fat yes there. Even a dead woman would think so. For crying out loud, his voice alone qualified as sex on a stick. Add in the rugged features and obvious rock-solid torso, and who wouldn’t be...intrigued?
Intrigued, though, didn’t mean interested. If she happened to find herself walking three blocks out of her way to visit Café Mondu, it was only because she had a craving for a well-crafted iced peppermint mocha latte.
Just as it was surprise, not disappointment tightening her stomach when she discovered a pair of middle-aged women occupying the front corner table.
“Good morning,” the barista at the counter said in greeting. It was Jesse, the woman from the other night. “Looks like Ian did a good job.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your chin. The cut’s healing nicely.”
“Thanks.” Chloe ran her fingertip along the scab. She still had a bump from smacking the sidewalk, but the redness had started to fade. “Lucky for me your boss has a knack for first aid.”
“Must have been the army training,” Jesse said.
“You knew about that?”
“I overheard him talking to a couple servicemen one day, why?”
“No reason.” For a second Chloe worried that she was the only person in New York who didn’t recognize the man. She’d learned online that his military service was an important part of the Ian Black corporate story. It was his experience as a medic that inspired him to invent the Black blood clotting patch that launched the company’s success. “I only recently found out, is all. He’s not here today, is he?” she added. Only because it would be rude not to say hello.
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