Day Leclaire - More Than Perfect

“Fair enough.”

“So are you done brooding?”

Angie blinked in surprise. “Was I brooding?”

“He called you office furniture. That’s enough to make anyone brood. But I guarantee The Devil won’t call you that ever again.” Trinity nudged the shopping bags with the toe of her Choos, intense satisfaction sliding through her voice. “Not once he sees you in that dress.”

Angie flinched. “Don’t.” Though she’d never told Trinity how she felt about Lucius, there was no question her friend suspected something. “Nothing will ever happen. Not with him. He’s actually thinking about getting married.”

Trinity’s mouth dropped open. “No way.”

“It’s a sensible decision. He needs a mother for Mikey.”

“And has he found her or is he in the looking phase?”

“Looking.”

Trinity’s hazel eyes danced with mischief. “Well, then. Maybe that dress will have him looking in a whole new direction.”

It was just a joke, Angie told herself for the umpteenth time, smoothly changing the subject. A tantalizing possibility, but utterly impossible. Unrealistic. And considering it as anything else could only lead to one place. Utter heartbreak. She couldn’t go there. Not again. And so she chatted and laughed and tucked her heartache away until she could escape home.

The minute she entered her house, she carefully tucked her purchases into the far recesses of her closet where the outfit wouldn’t be in a position to taunt her for the next few days. And even though Lucius asked for the receipts, she refused to hand them over. It didn’t seem right to have him pay for the dress, not to mention the more intimate pieces she’d bought. Not when she could wear them on more occasions than their business dinner.

Friday came far too soon for Angie’s peace of mind. She left work promptly for a change and refused Lucius’s offer to pick her up. Easier to take a cab to the waterfront. She arrived at Milano’s on the Sound exactly on time. She loved Joe’s restaurant, loved the romantic ambience of it, even though tonight was strictly business. The layout of the interior appealed to her on some basic, feminine level, the overall design making clever use of spacing, angles and elegant furnishings. Joe had even created little nooks and oases that gave the diners the illusion that they were the only patrons present.

Andre, the maître d’, greeted her by name as he offered to take her wrap. She could only assume he had one of those impressive memories that allowed him to pair names with faces. His gaze swept over her in a discreet manner, but one which managed to convey deep masculine approval. It gave her confidence a boost, something she badly needed considering the two men she’d soon be dealing with.

“Mr. Devlin and Mr. Moretti have already arrived,” he informed her in an undertone. “They seem somewhat at odds.”

“Already?”

Andre lifted a shoulder in a shrug that clearly said, “Alpha men, what else do you expect?”

She smiled. “Have they been served drinks?”

“Not yet.”

“I have it on good authority that they’ll be ordering beef this evening. Why don’t you have a bottle of Glenrothes brought to the table. If I’m wrong and they order seafood, swap it out for Old Pulteney.”

“Of course, Ms. Colter. I’ll see to it immediately.”

He guided her to an exclusive section reserved for VIPs. While some of the tables allowed couples to sit hip to hip in the deep, cushioned benches facing the windows overlooking Puget Sound, the table Andre showed her to was a simple round. The two men sat across from one another like a pair of combatants. A vacant chair, facing the windows was clearly meant for her. Great. She loved playing Monkey in the Middle.

She didn’t know what alerted Lucius to her presence. But she could tell the instant he sensed her, his body stiffening, his gaze swiveling to narrow in on her. The patent disbelief in his gaze when he saw her almost made her laugh—or maybe cry since it told her precisely what he thought of her as a woman. He was quick to conceal his shock. Too late, she wanted to say.

He shoved back his chair and stood, approaching in order to take her hand in his and guide her to the table as though they were a couple, instead of boss/employee. “Gabe, you remember my PA, Angie Colter.”

Gabe Moretti was every inch as gorgeous as Lucius, with hair as raven dark. But instead of eyes to match, his were the shade of antique gold, filled with mystery and predatory intent. He stood to greet her, his gaze sharp and appraising. Then he smiled with singular charm and offered her his hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Colter,” he said in a voice that made her think of smoke.

“Please, call me Angie, Mr. Moretti.”

He inclined his head. “Let’s make it Angie and Gabe, shall we?” Before Lucius had the chance, he pulled out the chair for her, acting the part of the host—and no doubt annoying her boss in the process. “I believe the last time I saw you, you were shopping for a house. How did that turn out?”

Impressed that he’d remembered, she rewarded him with a broad smile. “I closed on a small cottage in Ballard last month. It needs a bit of work, mostly cosmetic, but considering I picked it up for an excellent price, I don’t mind in the least.”

“Smart. But, then, knowing Devlin, he only hires the best.” He shot Lucius a challenging glance. “Perhaps I should steal her from you.”

Lucius didn’t rise to the bait. “One of the qualities I look for in an employee is loyalty. You’re welcome to make Angie an offer. If she accepts, it simply means my assessment of her was mistaken and I’m better off finding a new PA.” He turned his black gaze on Angie and his smile smoldered like the smoke from hell. “Have I made a mistake?”

Good Lord, how in the world had she ended up in the middle of this tug-of-war? Instead of answering the question, she gave Andre a discreet nod, relieved beyond measure when he crossed to the table with the bottle of scotch. It proved the perfect distraction. With the ease of long practice, she turned the conversation to the latest financial market news. That successfully navigated them through the pouring of their drinks. Fortunately, the restaurant owner, Joe Milano, appeared just then with a platter of cold shellfish he’d prepared for them, personally.

He offered each man his hand, greeting them by name. He even took Angie’s hand, kissing it with a natural ease that charmed. “You are absolutely delectable this evening. Who’s going to look at my food when they can look at you?” he teased. “I should hide you away so my dishes can take center stage once again.”

“I’m not sure Maddie would approve of that,” Angie replied with an answering smile. At the mention of his wife’s name, his brown eyes lit up and the expression that came into his face caused a pang of envy. What she wouldn’t give to have a man look like that at the mere mention of her name. “Is she still trying to burn down the house?”

Joe chuckled. “Let’s just say I keep her well away from the kitchen. And since our daughters all seem to follow in her footsteps—with one delightful exception—they are also banned.”

“A future chef in the making?”

“Without question.” Joe didn’t linger after that. Wishing them buon appetito, he returned to the kitchen.

She didn’t give either of her dinner companions the chance to cause further trouble. Once their waiter served them choice tidbits of the appetizer, she nudged the conversation ever so gently into the direction of the most recent changes to building inspections and codes, a subject dear to the hearts of both men. That got them through the appetizers, over the hurdle of a visit from the sommelier and a prolonged discussion of dinner options, before leaping directly into a terse debate over which dish was Joe’s most impressive specialty.