Kristin Gabriel - Engaging Alex

The doorman nodded in sympathy. “Reporters can be pests. At least he was cute.”

Paige hadn’t noticed. She’d spent the last year avoiding any man who looked in her direction. But that was about to change. No more hiding from life. From love. It was time to forget about Alex Mack once and for all. To say a final goodbye to the happily ever after fantasy that she’d clung to for far too long.

That’s why she was here tonight.

“I’m looking for Franco Rossi,” she said, aware that a small puddle had formed on the floor around her.

The doorman grinned. “That’s me. You must be here about the apartment.”

Paige nodded, setting down the grocery bag she’d been holding. “I’m Paige Hanover. We spoke yesterday on the telephone.” She didn’t tell him she’d called as soon as she’d seen the For Rent sign in the apartment window.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Her mother had called it cosmic fate, though Paige tried not to encourage Margo Weaver’s increasing fascination with extraterrestrial life. It had gotten worse since Paige’s stepfather had disappeared from the Weaver home a year and a half ago. Even Paige had to admit his middle-of-the-night vanishing act was strange. Almost tailor-made for a show like UFO Watch.

Like mother, like daughter.

Only Paige didn’t believe in UFOs, alien abductions, little green men or any of that other nonsense. She cringed at sensationalistic shows like UFO Watch, hating the fact that she was now one of their subjects.

Paige simply believed that she’d picked the wrong man, just like her mother. But that didn’t mean they should give up. Or cling to some ridiculous theory about aliens abducting the men they loved. It was time to face reality.

That’s why she was here tonight. To prove to herself and to her mother that it was a mistake to hold on to the past. Renting this apartment was her first step toward moving into the future.

Even the unusual lease fit Paige’s purpose. It was a time-share, allowing her to use the apartment just two days out of the week—Friday and Saturday. She’d paid the required minimum of one month’s rent, though she’d have no reason to return after tonight. She would consider the extra expense well-spent if it would get Alex Mack out of her head—and her heart—once and for all.

“The place is already furnished,” Franco said, “courtesy of my ex-boyfriend, Marlon. He owns prime real estate all over the country. I lived with him in New York City until we broke up, then I won this apartment in a landmark palimony suit and moved to San Francisco.”

Paige looked around the foyer. “Was working as the building’s doorman part of the agreement?”

Franco smiled. “It’s more of a volunteer position. I’m writing my first screenplay and I thought this would be a great opportunity to meet a lot of different people for character sketches. People like you.”

“So you don’t actually live here?” Paige asked, still somewhat confused.

Franco leaned closer and whispered. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve turned the janitor’s room in the basement into my own little home away from home. It’s absolutely horrid, but writers are supposed to suffer for their craft. And the money I collect from leasing the apartment will help me produce my screenplay.”

At least her rent payment was going to a worthwhile cause. “Well, good luck.”

“Thanks.” Franco reached into his pocket. “Here’s the key to the apartment. You have to furnish your own linens, as I told you on the phone. But you’re welcome to use any of the CDs in the stereo. I highly recommend the Wizard of Oz soundtrack. You just can’t beat Judy Garland.”

Paige nodded as she took the key, not bothering to tell him that she’d brought a CD of her own. One that fit the occasion perfectly.

Franco crossed his arms across his narrow chest as he looked her up and down. “You look a lot different than you did on television.”

“I cut my hair.” She reached up to touch the damp fringe at her neck. The stylist had tried to talk her out of cutting her waist-length hair, but Paige was determined to make some changes in her life. Big changes.

Franco nodded with approval. “It looks good. Great outfit, too.”

Paige glanced down at her red halter top and matching leather pants, still unable to believe she’d bought something this outrageous—much less put it on. Thanks to the rain, she just hoped she could get it off.

“The forecast was sunny and warm when I left home this morning,” she explained, though she usually didn’t forget her umbrella. She’d obviously had too many other things on her mind today.

“I hope it’s not ruined,” Franco commiserated, his gaze on her leather pants. “You should probably take them off and lay them out to dry.” He opened a closet door behind him and reached inside. “Here, you can borrow this to wear in the meantime.”

She saw him pull out a hanger with a black skirt hanging from it. “Thanks, but I couldn’t possibly—”

“Please take it,” Franco insisted, shoving it into her hands. “I don’t want you sitting on my furniture in wet pants. Besides, it’s a great skirt.” He glanced down at the bottle of wine in her bag. “Men love it.”

Paige transferred the hanger to her other hand, then picked up the bag off the floor and headed for the staircase. “Thanks for lending me the skirt. I owe you.”

“Believe me, it’s my pleasure,” Franco called after her. “Apartment 2B is on the left at the top of the stairs. I’ll be happy to show you the way.”

“That’s all right,” she assured him, taking a deep breath as she started up the steps. “I already know it.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Paige had her leather pants off and the borrowed black skirt on, somewhat surprised at how well it fit. She thought it a little strange that the doorman would have a spare skirt in the closet, but everything about Franco seemed a little strange.

Peeling those shrunken leather pants off had been an arduous process, but definitely worth it. The silky fabric of the short skirt whispered against her bare thighs and made her want to sway to the Frank Sinatra song playing on the stereo. The song Alex used to sing in her ear when they danced. At least hearing it didn’t make her cry anymore.

The rain had finally abated, so Paige opened the balcony doors to let some fresh air into the stale apartment. It was located at the back of the old Victorian. She stepped out onto the balcony to see the row of Painted Ladies, the nickname given to Victorian houses adorned with several shades of coordinating paint, across the street. Many of the houses were in various stages of renovation.

She could smell a hint of the ocean as the breeze picked up. Turning back into the apartment, her gaze moved slowly over the table she’d set so meticulously.

There were two plates with chocolate éclairs on them, the dessert she and Alex had shared on their first date. A bottle of premium champagne chilling in an ice bucket, the same brand Alex had purchased the day of their engagement. A dried arrangement of white gardenias and stephanotis in the center of the table—her wedding bouquet.

A ripple of apprehension fluttered through her. This was a big step in her life. Paige had spent the past year preparing herself for this moment. Telling herself that it was time to move on. But was she really ready to forget about Alex—forever?

Yes.

She took a determined step toward the table and picked up the folded sheet of paper lying there. Alex’s marriage proposal—sent via e-mail over a year ago. Paige had been stunned when she’d opened it. Hadn’t really believed it until she’d printed it out in black and white. Now her gaze flew over the words she’d memorized long ago. Words that were imprinted on her heart.