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“It’s not just my skin I’m worried about.” Neatly folding the grocery bags and tucking them under the counter, she says, “The cleanse is to stay healthy. Nothing you would know anything about. Which is why I just stocked your fridge full of fish I know you will never cook and probably give to your housekeeper, and pre-made salads from Antonio’s deli. All you have to do is pull off the lid. Think you can handle that?”
I chuckle at her comment, knowing Claudia means well even if she can be a bit overbearing at times. Taking a swig of my whiskey, I lean against the counter and watch as she busies herself tidying up the already spotless kitchen. The warm glow of the dim lights casts a soft ambiance around us, creating a sense of familiarity and comfort in the air.
She goes back to the fridge. “Well… maybe just a small glass of chardonnay.” She takes out the chilled bottle, opening it and pouring herself a generous glass.
“So, where were you earlier?” Claudia asks casually, leaning her bum against my counter as she studies me with the knowing look of twin power in her eye. “Your location said you were at the corner store but judging by the contents of your fridge, you didn’t buy anything.”
“I did.” Cigarettes. Oh, and a pregnancy test. But Claudia is under some crazy impression that I’ve given up smoking.
Probably when I lied and told her I gave up smoking.
Her brow creases like a police officer as she investigates my alibi. “What did you buy?”
“Gum,” I say.
“Good to see you’ve still given up that nasty habit.”
Guilt settles in for not quitting and for lying. I have quit. For the most part.
I make a mental note to trash the cigarettes. I sigh, feeling frustration churning. I know I’m going to tell Claudia about the girl. Don’t do it, Rockwell. She’s just going to give you grief and tell you you’re having a savior moment.
“Is that all that happened tonight?” She gives me a pensive stare.
“I met a girl from the store. Her debit card was declined. I told her I need a woman for the front desk down at the office. She turned down my job offer.”
Claudia raises an eyebrow along with her glass, her interest piqued. “A girl from the store? Is this another one of your charity cases, Rockwell?”
I shake my head at her teasing tone. “She seemed like she could use the help. But she was adamant about not taking the job.”
“Hmm, sounds intriguing,” Claudia muses, sipping her wine, her gaze thoughtful as she leans against the kitchen counter. “Maybe she’s just being cautious. You do have a bit of a reputation, big brother.”
I think of the girl’s wide, innocent eyes. “She had no idea who I was.”
“Really? Doubtful. You’re not only a Rockwell, but you’re also a Bachman too. Voted most eligible bachelor by New York’s Elite Magazine? Every single girl in this city has a picture of you on their phone.”
I bristle at her words, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. “I’m not trying to be anything other than genuine with her. She looked like she needed the help, that’s all.”
Claudia gives me the knowing look of the big sister, her eyes softening with understanding. “I get it, Rock. You’ve always had a soft spot for those in need. Just be careful not to get invested too quickly. I’ve got everything covered at the office for now… and remember what happened last time.”
Her words strike a nerve, reminding me of the painful past that still lingers in the shadows of my heart. I take a deep breath, pushing away the memories that threaten to resurface.
“I know, Claudia. I’ll be cautious,” I assure her, my voice tinged with resignation. “But there’s something about her… something different.”
She shoots me another knowing glance. “There always is, big brother. There always is.”
“Well, don’t blame me for trying to get someone behind that desk. I need your brilliant mind back where it belongs, crunching numbers and analyzing data. Not answering phones.”
“So true,” she says, then gently adds, “But we’d best wait for the right person. Not the first girl in need that catches your eye.”
“Don’t worry about her,” I say, downing the last of my whiskey. “Eight million people in this city? I’ll never see her again.”
CHAPTER 3
Lily
After the strange night I had, I make the coffee extra strong to start my day, adding a second spoonful to my favorite yellow mug before pouring the hot water. What I wouldn’t give for one of those five-dollar fancy lattes from Perkies Café on Park Street. Instead, I sip the mug of instant coffee.
This will have to do.
