One Summer In New York. Trish Wylie
a risk. To take something for her own.
Maybe someday a man would fit into the picture. Not any time soon. She needed to concentrate on herself.
“Join me.” Ethan gestured for her to come sit on the sofa after the delivery. He laid the pizza down on the coffee table, then dashed into the kitchen, returning with two plates, a stack of napkins and two bottles. “Will you have a beer?”
She took one from him and popped the cap with a satisfying twist.
As they sat down beside each other Holly winced involuntarily and moved away a bit. Being close to him felt scary. Strange. Strangely great...
He noticed her sudden stiffness. “I do not bite.”
Pity. She held back a laugh. It wasn’t fear that he’d bite that was bothering her. It might have been fear that he wouldn’t.
Ethan flipped open the box and a meaty, cheesy, tomatoey aroma wafted up to their noses.
“I do not believe I have ever seen a pizza with this many ingredients on it.”
As if performing a delicate procedure, he used two hands to lift one hefty slice onto a plate and handed it to Holly. Then he served himself.
“Ah...”
They groaned in unison as the first bites slid down their tongues. Unable even to speak, they each quickly devoured their slices.
Holly was the first to reach for a second. Then she sat back on the sofa and put her bare feet up on the coffee table.
“‘Everything’ is now officially my favorite pizza topping,” Ethan confirmed, after taking another slice.
Observing Holly stretched out and seemingly comfortable, he did the same. His leaned back against the sofa. Tentatively he extended one leg and then the other onto the coffee table, and crossed them just as Holly had hers.
And there they sat, both barefoot, eating pizza, as if they had known each other for eons rather than minutes.
She thought of something to ask. “Where did you fly in from?”
“Dubai. Before that I was in Stockholm. I have been out of the country for a month.”
“Where do you live?”
“I keep a small apartment in Boston, near our headquarters. Although I travel most of the time.”
“Your company has properties all over the world?”
He nodded and washed down his pizza with a sip of beer. “Yes. Some we build. Some we buy and refurbish. In the last couple of years I have been spending a lot of my time on affordable housing for low-income buyers.”
“Vince told me about the development you built in Overtown. He said he was so proud to have been part of a project helping people in one of Miami’s neediest areas.”
That left side of Ethan’s mouth rose up again, but this time it continued until the right side lifted to join it in one full-on heart-melting smile.
Holly almost choked on her pizza. She thought a person might enjoy looking at that smile for the rest of her life.
“After my aunt retires I plan to turn most of Benton’s focus toward housing for homeless or low-income families.”
“When will she retire?”
Ethan sized Holly up in a gaze that went from the tip of her head down to her toes. As if he were taking her all in. Measuring her for something.
When she couldn’t stand the moment any longer she reached for another piece of pizza and pressed, “Does your aunt want to retire?”
Holly watched his concentration return to the conversation at hand.
“I think she must, whether she wants to or not. She has peripheral neuropathy. It is a rare inherited condition. She’s starting to lose some of her faculties.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I am, too. She is a wonderful woman.”
“She’s lucky to have you looking out for her wellbeing.” Holly didn’t think anyone would ever care about her that much.
“I would like to see her relaxing in Barbados. Swimming in warm waters and enjoying her silly trophy husband.”
“But she doesn’t see it that way?”
“She has a stipulation that she is insistent on before she retires, the details of which have not been worked out yet.” Ethan reached for his beer. “So, tell me, Miss Holly Motta, you have come to New York completely on your own?”
What did his aunt want? Was there a family secret?
Holly was dying to know. In fact she wanted to know about all of Ethan’s joys and triumphs and struggles and defeats. Wanted to tell him all of hers. Though she couldn’t fathom why.
Even if she had been open to meeting the right man—a man with whom she would share the deepest, darkest nooks and crannies of her life—it wouldn’t be a man who showered on airplanes.
A man like Ethan Benton had no business with a girl who had grown up in a trailer park in Fort Pierce. Never going to happen. And she wasn’t looking for someone, anyway. This was her time.
She chewed her pizza, suddenly agitated by the way Ethan continued to examine her, as if she was an object he was considering purchasing.
“I have to say I cannot remember the last time I was with a woman who ate half a pizza in one sitting.”
“Of course not. You probably only keep company with women who eat one green bean and then tell you how full they are.”
That crooked grin broke into a hearty belly laugh. “You are absolutely right. If they eat anything at all. You are definitely not like the women I tend to meet.”
“Should I consider that a compliment?”
“Please tell me why you have come to New York alone.”
“Who would I have come with if not alone? I haven’t seen my mother in years. My brother, Vince, is doing well in Miami. I have no other ties.”
She’d grown up strategizing and compensating for her unreliable mother. Looking out for Vince. Then working around Ricky’s bad behavior. Juggling two or three jobs. Keeping the house clean. Making sure people were fed. Paying bills. Always being the responsible one. Day after day. Year after year.
“I’m through with being cautious.” She couldn’t believe she was blathering this out to a man she’d only just met. “Yes, I came to New York alone. No job. No permanent place to live. I don’t even know if here’s where I belong. That’s why I was going to stay in this apartment for a while—to figure it out. I’m sure it all sounds insane to you.”
“How it sounds is brave.”
* * *
Ethan furrowed his brow. A minute ago Holly had confided that she wasn’t in contact with her mother. No mention of a father. He sensed there was plenty more that she hadn’t said. That she’d been through more than her share of trouble and strife. Although it might be a made-up story meant to evoke sympathy from him to let her stay in the apartment.
Every previous experience he’d had with women other than Aunt Louise had led him to believe that they were never what they seemed.
Starting with his own mother.
Do not trust trust. It was a lesson he’d learned decades ago.
That was why he’d devised this scheme to set up a fake relationship, so that Aunt Louise would think she had gotten her wish. She would retire with her mind at ease and her attention on her health.
An imitation fiancée would suit him perfectly. The women he’d known before had always wanted something from him. With this arrangement he’d dreamt up everyone would