A Cosmic Kind of Love(37)



“Okay, fine. But she actually smiled at you. I mean, she was nicer to you than she was to her own daughter. And don’t even get started on me. The three times I’ve met her, she’s asked me each time if I colored my hair for a charity fundraising event and if it was ending anytime soon.”

His deep laughter rang out through the restaurant, and it was infectious. “That sounds like Violet.”

“Stop it. Just you saying her name makes me sweat with nerves.”

“She’s not that scary.”

“She’s terrifying. I do not know how Darcy came out of her. And you’re right about the rock music. Matthias really wanted rock music at the party, and I thought Darcy didn’t because it wasn’t to her taste, but now you’ve got me thinking it was because of Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“Uh, it’s possibly a part of that, but I’ve known Darcy a few years, and she’s definitely more of a classical music lover.”

Suddenly it occurred to me we were talking about his stunning ex-girlfriend. Beyond the bite of jealousy I experienced, I felt like an insensitive twit. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have brought them up.”

“Why?”

I raised an eyebrow.

Chris sighed. “Look, Darcy and I are just friends. I’m genuinely happy for her, or I wouldn’t have attended the party on Saturday.”

“Okay.” I wouldn’t overanalyze why I really needed to believe that. “Anyway, my job involves solving problems like that.”

“So you came up with the classical musicians playing rock music?”

“Yeah.”

“It was good. It didn’t even bother Violet.”

I visibly shuddered. “That’s never going to sit right with me.”

He chuckled. “I think you have an issue with authority.”

“Yes, I absolutely do. I was the kid who felt nauseated if a teacher so much as snapped at me.”

“I was the kid who left an apple on the teacher’s desk every morning.”

I giggled. “I can totally see that. Christopher Ortiz, charming people since . . . 1987.”

Chris confirmed his birth year with a nod. “I learned from the best.” He shrugged unrepentant. “My brother, Miguel, taught me a thing or two about how to treat women.”

I wanted to blurt out the question, Not your father? but I was enjoying our light banter and didn’t want to ruin it. “Was he a ladies’ man?”

“Oh yeah. While I was happy to leave an apple on a desk, I was a pretty shy kid, but Miguel was coaxing girls behind the bleachers from the age of ten.”

“No way.”

“Seriously, he was girl crazy from almost the beginning. He used to rib me constantly for being a serial monogamist. Was always trying to convince me to play the field.”

“But that wasn’t you?” I really, really didn’t want that to be him.

“It wasn’t me.” He gave me a boyish smile. “I’ve always enjoyed being in a relationship. I mean, I don’t need to be in one, but to me, one-night stands just feel . . .”

“Empty,” I supplied.

“Right.”

I’m in love.

Shut up. You’re being silly.

You’re infatuated, and there’s a difference.

“How did I get to one-night stands?” He shook his head at himself. “Sorry, we were talking about your issue with authority.”

“Is it an issue?” I cocked my head to the side in thought. “I respect authority figures. I would think as a captain in the United States Air Force and a NASA astronaut that you have a very healthy respect for authority figures. So why is mine an ‘issue’?”

His answering smile was appreciative, and the little hairs on the back of my neck rose. “As much as it might offend Violet Hawthorne, I think there’s a relatively vast difference between her and my allegiance to the United States.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that, or she’ll have Rosanna disinvite you to afternoon tea in the parlor.”

He smirked. “Are you mocking the wealthy, Ms. Goodman?”

The usual spike of fear that I’d feel at anyone taking my teasing seriously didn’t flare to life. Instead I held my finger and thumb up and replied, “Maybe a little. But I’m an equal opportunist mocker if that makes it any better.”

“Oh really? Who else do you mock?”

“Me, frequently. Do you know just a few weeks ago I found myself in the ridiculous situation of buying a stranger several pairs of kitten socks?”

Eyes alight with amusement. “Oh, do tell.”

I laughed. “It’s a long story.”

His expression said, I’ve got time. He gestured for me to continue.

And I did. Without the usual moronic shame I’d felt around George or Gabby or even my parents.

Ninety minutes flew by like five, and there was never a lull in conversation.





FIFTEEN





Chris


The one-bedroom apartment I was considering in Brooklyn was two hundred square feet smaller than my apartment in Manhattan and cost considerably less. It didn’t have anything like the corner window looking out over the city, yet it was well designed, well maintained, and nothing more or less than what I required. It was definitely on the top of my list, I decided, promising my Realtor I’d be in touch before leaving her to walk to the subway.

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