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Miracle on 5th Avenue by Sarah Morgan (20)

Everyone has baggage, but when traveling through life take hand luggage only.

—Frankie

Mary Eleanor Blade, known as Mitzy to her friends, of which she had many, sat in the winged Queen Anne chair that had been a gift from her son, and was now carefully positioned to make the most of the charming view from the window.

Right now, though, she wasn’t looking at the view. She was looking at her grandson.

She might be ninety, but she could still recognize handsome when she saw it, and Lucas was most definitely handsome.

He’d inherited his mother’s beauty and his father’s strength. He topped six-four, and those wicked good looks, combined with an aura of strength and command ensured him a fan base of women who probably hadn’t even opened one of his books.

Mitzy felt a twinge of envy as she admired his glossy dark hair. She’d long since made peace with her smooth bob of elegant gray, but she could clearly remember the time when her hair had been as black as his.

One less seriously minded magazine had described him as perfect, but Mitzy knew better. He was smart and had a sharp sense of humor, but he also had a fierce temper and a single-minded approach to life that some had described as ruthless.

Mitzy didn’t see it that way. She knew he wasn’t ruthless, so much as driven. And what was wrong with that? Who wanted perfect anyway? She’d always been suspicious of perfect. Never found it interesting. She and Robert had been married for sixty years, and she’d loved his flaws as much as his strengths. Lucas was the same. He was interesting. He was also troubled, and she desperately wanted to fix that. His mother, her daughter-in-law, would have told her to step back and let him find his own way, but Mitzy figured that if you couldn’t try to fix things when you were ninety, there wasn’t much point in being here. And the good thing about her age was that people were more indulgent of interfering behavior. They saw it as endearingly eccentric. Mitzy played along, even though her brain was as sharp as it had been when she was twenty. If it was interfering to try to help someone she loved, then yes she was interfering. It gave her purpose.

“How was Vermont?” She used her most casual tone but she knew from the incendiary glance he sent in her direction that she was going to have to work a little harder if she wanted to appear innocent.

“We both know I wasn’t in Vermont.”

“You weren’t?”

“Gran—” his tone bordered on the impatient “—let’s cut the crap.”

She blinked. “You’re a writer. I would have thought you could have found a more eloquent expression than that.”

“I could, but not one that so perfectly describes what’s going on here. Why did you do it?”

He towered over her, but she was too long in the tooth to be intimidated by anyone, least of all her own grandson. She’d driven ambulances during the war. It would take more than a black look from Lucas to make her lose her nerve.

“Do what? Would you like tea? I’ve discovered this new brand and it’s delicious.”

“I don’t want tea. What I want,” he said tightly, “is to understand why you would enlist someone like Eva in your plans. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that you needed to eat. And Eva is a most excellent cook, as I hope you’ve discovered.” She kept her head down and poured the tea, resisting the urge to smile.

If she smiled now, all would be lost.

“Do you think I’m stupid, Gran?”

“No.” She thought he was passionate, and she loved a man with passion. Her Robert had been the same. “Stubborn, and occasionally wrong, but never stupid.”

“We both know you sending Eva my way had nothing to do with her cooking abilities. We know what you were hoping would happen and, by the way, it didn’t. I didn’t lay a finger on her.”

Then you’re a fool, Mitzy thought, but she kept the thought to herself.

“I’m glad to hear it. I didn’t send that young girl over there for you to molest her. I would have felt dreadfully let down if you’d done that.”

Lucas shook his head in exasperation. “We were snowed in together.”

“No.” Mitzy widened her eyes in horror, delighted that for once the weather forecast hadn’t let her down. “How dreadful for her.”

“For her?”

“Being closeted with you and your dark moods. We both know that when you can’t write, you’re like a bear with a sore head. Oh, dear—” She rubbed her chest dramatically. “I hope I didn’t do the wrong thing. I thought she’d be fine. I didn’t even think she’d see you.”

“Why are you rubbing your chest, Gran? Are you in pain? Can I fetch you something? Call someone?” The concern in his voice warmed her.

Underneath that brooding exterior he was a dear boy. “I’m a little anxious, that’s all. I hope you weren’t unkind, Lucas.” She saw something that looked like guilt flash across his face, and there was a brief pause before he answered.

“I wasn’t unkind.”

Mitzy stopped rubbing her chest. “You were unkind?”

“We didn’t part on the best of terms.” His voice was tight and she wondered if her grandson’s irascible nature might have proved too much even for her lovely Eva.

“If you hurt that girl in any way, Lucas, I swear you will discover that there is an end to my patience. Eva has become a good friend. I can’t imagine not having her in my life.” It was probably the most honest statement she’d uttered since he’d walked into her apartment.

“And what is she doing in your life? Have you asked yourself why a young woman of her age would—” He broke off and she raised an eyebrow.

“Would what? Want to spend her free time with someone old and boring like me? Was that what you wanted to say?”

Men could be so tactless, she thought. It was a wonder the human race hadn’t died out.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say. You’re the most interesting person I know, but you have to admit that it’s a strange way for a young, single, attractive woman to spend her time.”

So he had found Eva attractive.

She hadn’t got that part wrong.

“Only you would consider it strange that two people might find pleasure in each other’s company, and that’s because you insist on believing that all interaction is driven by some lower purpose. Your writer’s imagination may have made you a fortune, Lucas, but in the real world it does you a disservice. When she’s working, I insist on paying her for her time, but sometimes she visits after work, through her own choice. She bakes me cakes and walks Peanut if I’ve not managed to get out.”

“And you don’t wonder why she’d do those things?”

Because she’s lonely.

Mitzy kept her tone level. “You find my company so boring you can’t imagine why another might seek it? It’s a good job my ego is as robust as yours.”

Dark color spread across his cheekbones. “You’re deliberately misunderstanding me.”

“If you have to ask the question, then evidently you didn’t spend much time talking to Eva.”

“We talked.”

“Then maybe your listening skills need work.”

“My listening skills are—” He sighed. “What are you getting at? What did I miss?”

“You’re the writer with deep insight into human nature. Far be it for me to tell you how to get to know someone. Is that why you didn’t part on the best of terms? Were you only thinking about yourself? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said irritably. “And she’s more robust than she looks, by the way. We argued, that’s all.”

Knowing how sensitive Eva was, Mitzy was sure a few sharp words from her grandson would have been all it took to hurt her.

“What terrible thing did she do?”

“She accepted an invitation to the Snowflake Ball at the Plaza on my behalf without asking me.”

Mitzy gave him a long look. “A heinous crime indeed.”

“I don’t need sarcasm, Gran.”

“She probably didn’t need your anger, either.” It annoyed her, thinking of it.

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“No. If you’re the man I know you to be, you’re already feeling guilty.” Watching him jam his fingers into his hair, she almost felt sorry for him. He looked so much like the little boy who had once stolen the last slice of chocolate cake from her kitchen.

He had a good heart, she knew, but that heart had been so badly bruised, so damaged, he didn’t dare let anyone near it.

He thought she didn’t know how he felt, but she knew.

She knew everything and she ached for him. She’d waited for him to talk to her about it, but he never had. She wondered if he’d ever told anyone how he’d felt after Sallyanne’s shocking death. Probably not.

“So now she’s gone. And presumably that’s what you wanted, so what’s the problem?”

He raked his hand over the back of his neck. “I need her back.”

Mitzy’s heart flew, but she kept her expression neutral. “If you sent her away, why would you need her back?”

“I just need her. And I need you to give me her home address.”

Mitzy couldn’t remember a time when he’d sounded so desperate. She almost took pity on him. Then she thought of sweet, dear Eva. “I’m not sure I have it. Or maybe I do, and I’ve forgotten. You know what my memory is like.”

“Your memory is perfect, Gran.”

She made vague sounds. “Could you pass me my reading glasses and my smartphone?”

Lucas found both on top of the piano and handed them to her. “You always keep your addresses in a book.”

“Eva taught me to use the contacts in this wonderful phone.” Should she help? If she was wrong and this didn’t go the way she’d planned, two people she loved dearly could be hurt.

He held out his hand. “Could I look?”

“No. You’ll press something, or do something clever, and I’ll never be able to find any of my numbers again.”

“Gran—”

“Why do you need her home address?”

“Because this is—” He broke off, breathing heavily. “Personal. It’s better discussed face-to-face.”

“Personal?” Oh, this was perfect. And people said that interfering was a bad thing. “I never had a granddaughter as you know and I would have loved to have one. I’m surrounded my men.” Men who invariably said the wrong thing. “Eva fills that space in my heart. Why is it personal? Are you taking her to that ball?”

His expression was shuttered. “No. I’m going to call the Plaza and cancel.”

Mitzy stared down at the phone, thinking hard. “No. I don’t have her address.”

He looked at her in exasperation. “There was never any expectation that I would take her to the ball. Even she wasn’t expecting that.”

“Maybe not, but it’s always nice when a man exceeds our expectations. If you want me to find out her address, you’ll have to promise you’ll take her to the ball.”

“I will not be blackmailed.”

Mitzy put the phone down. “Then you’ll have to call her office.”

“I’ve told you, this isn’t something I wish to discuss on the phone.”

“Then you’ll have to go to her office.” Better and better, she thought. The office was open plan and there was a strong chance he’d be making his speech in front of Eva’s two friends and business partners, who were two of the strongest women Mitzy had ever met. “Good luck, Lucas.”

“I’m not going to the ball, Gran.”

Oh, the boy was handsome. Handsome, strong and decent. So a part of him was damaged, but that could be healed, she was sure of it.

Yes, Eva was a lucky girl, no doubt about it.

* * *

Eva sat in a meeting with Paige and Frankie, trying to concentrate as they ran through their new business plan for the next quarter. Her mind refused to cooperate, unengaged by talk of growth and client gains. Instead her thoughts were stubbornly preoccupied by Lucas.

Part of her was still upset and offended. She’d been caring, for goodness’ sake. She’d actually thought they’d achieved a level of closeness, but he’d pushed her away and made it clear that any closeness was in her head only.

But even so she couldn’t stop worrying. She hadn’t been able to resist looking him up on the internet, and what she’d read had swiftly diffused her own anger. It turned out that the day she’d shown up at his apartment had been the anniversary of his wife’s death.

He’d been hiding away like an injured beast, and she’d disturbed him.

Right at the point where he’d wanted to be alone with his pain, she’d shown up.

What was he doing now? Had he even left his study? What if he wasn’t bothering to eat the food she’d prepared? It made her heart ache to think of him all alone there.

“Ev, are you listening?”

Eva jumped guiltily. “Of course.”

“You don’t look as if you’re listening.” Frankie was squeezing a stress ball shaped like a can of soda.

Eva forced herself to focus. “I’ll make a list of the top wedding planners and make contact with them.”

“That’s new business finished.” Paige closed the file. “Any current business anyone needs to discuss?”

Who would persuade him to leave the apartment? As far as she knew, even his grandmother still didn’t know he was there.

Something thudded gently into her forehead and she looked up and saw Frankie with her hand raised, grinning.

“Did you just throw your stress ball at my head?”

“I did. The great thing about running your own company is that we can be as immature as we like and no one can fire us. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing. Even less since you smacked me in the forehead.” Eva forced herself to concentrate. “Everything is set for Laura’s proposal. I emailed you the plan.”

“I saw it. It’s excellent. One perfect Christmas proposal. I envy Laura. It’s a day she’s going to remember forever.” Paige gave her a grateful look. “I can’t believe you’ve put this together at such short notice. You’re so good at fixing things for people.”

Other people, Eva thought. Never myself.

And she hadn’t fixed Lucas. She’d filled his refrigerator and decorated his apartment, but he was still hiding away from the world.

“We should probably add ‘dating agency’ to our list of capabilities.” Frankie retrieved her stress ball. “Remember when we used to work for Cynthia?”

Paige frowned. “It’s something I try to forget.”

“She seemed to think that if you were having fun in your working day, it meant you weren’t working hard enough.” Frankie sat back, put her feet on the table and grinned. “And here we are, working hard and having fun. So come on, Ev, the hard work is done and now I want the truth about why you’re so distracted. Debrief on your time with Lucas Blade. Did you steal any signed books? Was he working crazily hard? I can’t wait for his next one.”

She’d given her friends an edited version of her time with Lucas, leaving out the fact that he had writer’s block. That was his secret. Not hers to share.

“I spent my time in the kitchen,” she said truthfully. “And he was in his office.”

“So you ate separately?”

“We ate dinner together.”

“So you must have talked about something.”

“Not really.” Eva was deliberately vague and Frankie exchanged glances with Paige.

“Ev.” Frankie’s tone was patient. “This is you we’re talking about. You can’t go five seconds without saying something. Remember that sponsored silence at school? You raised no money at all. None. Not a single cent.”

Eva flushed. “We made small talk. I don’t remember what about.”

Paige put her pen down, her gaze warm. “You like him, don’t you?”

Frankie frowned. “Of course she doesn’t like him. He yelled at her!”

“That was my fault,” Eva said. “I shouldn’t have accepted that invitation without asking him first.”

“How were you born so forgiving?” Frankie swung her legs off the desk. “The guy was rude. You should have punched him and walked out.”

“She did walk out,” Paige said and Eva felt a stab of regret.

“I’d finished the job.” But she could have found an excuse to stay on, and part of her wished she had. How could you miss someone you’d known for only a couple of days? “He’s hurting. He lost the love of his life. They met when they were just kids.”

“How do you know that?”

Eva felt her cheeks burn. “I just do.” She didn’t tell her friends that she’d read the media reports. His wife had slipped on the ice while climbing into a cab. Her head injury had been massive. She’d never woken up from the coma. It had happened just a few weeks before Christmas.

Now she understood why he hadn’t wanted her to leave that night. Why he’d stared out at the weather as if it was repugnant. And she’d made all those guileless comments about the magic of snow.

“He made it clear he didn’t want to go to anything. I made the decision for him and it was wrong of me. I hate when people do that to me.”

Frankie gave her a speculative look. “Is there more than your marshmallow heart going on here?”

“What? No. Of course not.” Eva felt the flush start at her neck and travel slowly up her face. “He’s had a horrid time, that’s all.”

“So this is pity we’re seeing?” Frankie gave her a long look. “Come on, Ev. Tell us the truth. Paige is right. You liked him, didn’t you?”

She gave up pretending. “Yes, I liked him. He was smart and good company. And interesting.”

“I thought you didn’t say anything to each other?”

Paige smothered a smile and returned to her desk. “Leave the girl to her secrets, Frankie.”

“I will not. Eva wants love, which makes her vulnerable. It’s my job to vet any man she falls in love with.”

“I’m not in love!” Eva’s protests went ignored.

“I’m vetting raw lust, too, because there’s a high likelihood that you’ll fall in love with whoever you sleep with.”

“Not true!”

Frankie waggled her eyebrows. “So there was raw lust? Because if he looks anything like the picture on his book jacket, I’d have struggled not to rip his clothes off.”

Eva remembered that breath-stealing moment in the dark when she’d thought he was going to kiss her.

It had probably been her overactive imagination. The chemistry had almost fried her alive. She’d never wanted a man so much in her life. She’d backed away before she could be tempted to do something stupid. She could just imagine what he would have said if she’d grabbed him and kissed him.

“He wasn’t that hot in real life. You know how it is,” she lied. “Photoshop can make anyone hot. A man looks different when he hasn’t shaved.”

“Sexy stubble makes some men hotter.”

“Not him.” She broke off as Lara, their receptionist, walked into the room.

“We’ve had a ton of requests through the app,” she addressed the three of them. “I dealt with the easy ones, the others I sent through to you, Paige. There’s a full report in your inbox. We’re getting more dog-walking requests. Some elderly clients who don’t want to risk going out in the snow.”

Paige was all business, Lucas forgotten. “More than The Bark Rangers can handle? Do I need to think about researching additional suppliers?”

“Not yet. The Rangers are thinking of taking on another person. I spoke to Fliss yesterday.” Lara put a can of diet soda on Frankie’s desk, and a mug of coffee in front of Paige. “I didn’t make you anything, Eva, because you already made yourself green tea and you said you were— Oh, crap.” She broke off, staring through the glass wall of the office.

“I’m certainly not crap,” Eva said stoutly, and then realized Lara wasn’t paying her any attention. “What? What are you staring at?”

“Him,” Lara said faintly. “I’m married with two children. I’m not supposed to look at men and want to strip them naked.”

“Nothing wrong with wanting,” Paige said. “It’s the doing that causes a problem.” She glanced up. “Is that—?”

“Lucas Blade.” Eva knocked over her mug of tea. Liquid spread across her desk, soaking everything in sight.

“I guess that answers our question about whether he looks as good as he does in his author photo. I was going to say play it cool,” Paige said, “but I guess I’m too late.” She stood up, rescued Eva’s laptop, grabbed a bunch of napkins left over from an event and tried to stem the flow.

“Not at all hot in real life.” Frankie gazed through the glass to the man standing at the reception desk. “Not even warm. And you’re right—that dark stubble is just, well, there are no words for it.”

“Shut up.” Eva bent down, her face scarlet as she tried to undo the destruction she’d wrought on her desk. “What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out because they directed him this way.” Paige disposed of the napkins.

Frankie, who was never flustered, looked flustered. “I’m going to fangirl all over him.”

“You? You are Miss Cool. And I’ve got a massive damp patch on my skirt. I look as if I wet myself.” Eva dabbed ineffectually at the fabric and made it worse. “I could hide under the table and you could say I wasn’t here.”

“Stay seated,” Frankie advised. “I’m not usually starstruck, but would it be horribly crass of me to ask if I can take a selfie with him? Seriously, I can’t believe I’m meeting the mind behind the books I love.”

“His mind is a weird thing,” Eva muttered. “What’s he doing here anyway?” Her heart was racing. Her hands shook a little. “Does he look angry? Is this about the ball at the Plaza? Maybe he tried to cancel and they’re going to bill him anyway. I’m glad he finally left his apartment, but part of me wishes I wasn’t the reason.”

“Who says you were the reason? There could be a million reasons why he’s out and about in Manhattan. Calm down.” Paige rose to her feet, her smile warm and professional. “Mr. Blade. I didn’t realize you had an appointment.”

“I love your books!” Frankie stumbled over the words and Lucas flashed her a smile.

“That’s good to know.”

Frankie dug her hand into her bag and pulled out one of his books. “I don’t suppose you’d—”

“You carry that around with you?” Paige gaped at her. “Don’t you get a backache?”

“I couldn’t put it down. I’ve been reading it under my desk when you weren’t looking.”

“Seriously?” Paige rolled her eyes. “Take a reading day or something, and then come back and concentrate.”

“You want me to sign it?” Lucas held out his hand for the book and Frankie handed it over like a person in a dream. “To Frankie, yes?”

“Yes. Anything is f-fine.”

Eva and Paige exchanged glances.

Frankie was stammering?

Lucas signed with a flourish and handed it back. “My price is five minutes alone with Eva.”

Eva felt her insides turn to the same consistency as melted snow, but then she remembered the way they’d parted.

“If this is about The Snowflake Ball at the Plaza—”

“It isn’t. I’m going to call them and explain that it was a mistake.” He breathed deeply. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

She felt a flash of disappointment. She’d hoped that he would find it easier to turn up at the ball than cancel.

“Whatever you need to say, you can say it here.” Paige’s tone was pleasant but firm. “Don’t mind us.”

He held Paige’s gaze for a moment and then turned back to Eva. “I need you to come back.”

“Excuse me?”

“I need you to come back to my apartment.”

“Why? Has the Christmas tree dropped its needles?” Eva dug her nails into her palms. “Is there some problem with the food I prepared?”

“The food is delicious and the tree was intact last time I looked. It’s a great tree. If you like trees.”

“Which you don’t.”

A ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. “I’m growing accustomed to it.”

“So if it’s not the tree and it’s not the food, then what do you need?”

“I need you.” His voice was soft. “I need you to come back.”

Confusion rushed through her. “In what capacity?”

There was a taut silence. A muscle flickered in his lean cheek. “Inspiration.”

“Excuse me?”

He drew in a deep breath. “As you know, I was having some issues writing—”

“I thought you’d fixed that.”

“I thought so, too, but it turned out that the moment you left, I could no longer write.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand either.” There was a gleam of frustration in his eyes. “Something about having you there, our conversations, triggered ideas. This time of year is tough for me, and you were a distraction.”

“You’re asking me to come back and distract you? I don’t know anything about writing or the writing process,” she said. “I don’t really see how I could help. Shouldn’t you be talking to your editor? Or your agent? Or if you need another writer, then my friend Matilda is more likely to empathize and understand what you’re going through.”

“Forget it.” Frankie waved a hand. “She and Chase are in the Caribbean making babies.”

Lucas shook his head. “I don’t need empathy, I need creative inspiration. You gave me ideas for a certain character in my book. While you were there, I can clearly see her, imagine her, see her actions. When you left, she disappeared for me.”

“I’m a character in your book?” Warmth spread through her. She couldn’t breathe. “You’ve put me in your book?”

“Not you, specifically, but certain aspects of a character are inspired by you. I thought I had enough to write to the end of the book, but it turned out that wasn’t true. The moment you left, I found the writing hard.”

Her heart was pounding. He’d thought about her. He’d put her in his book. She wasn’t going to read anything into that. No. She definitely wasn’t. “So I’m the inspiration for one of your characters.”

He hesitated. “In a manner of speaking. Loosely.”

“I’ve never been in a book before, loose or otherwise.” She was immensely flattered. She told herself it was that and nothing else that was making her heart sing. “I’m honored, but I can’t come back. I have to work. I’m the creative side of this company and we’re horribly busy.”

“I’ll pay you.” He named a figure that made Frankie choke on her drink.

“It isn’t just the money.” Paige was calm. “Eva is right. She plays a key role in Urban Genie. She’s the creative brain and clients adore her. They always ask for her personally. Even if we could reassign some of her face-to-face meetings, we’d still need her to be available for phone consultations. Would you be happy for her to do that from your apartment?”

“The third bedroom can be easily converted to an office. She can work there.”

“In that case I’ll give you a rate.” Paige tapped on the keyboard. “You want her until Christmas? That’s three weeks, not just days but nights, too—”

“Hey, this isn’t Pretty Woman,” Eva protested but Paige ignored her and named a figure that made Eva’s jaw drop.

“Done.” Lucas didn’t hesitate. “You drive a hard bargain. I can see why your business is thriving.”

Paige gave him a cool smile. “We charge a fair rate for our excellent service and our business is thriving because we’re the best at what we do. You want Eva full-time, in person, and she isn’t cheap.”

Eva blinked. “I—”

“You have yourself a deal.” Lucas stood legs spread, arms folded across his chest, a study in male magnetism and arrogant assurance.

“Wait a minute.” Eva stood up, her legs shaking. Saying yes would mean it had all happened on Lucas’s terms. He was a man who was used to getting his own way, but she needed to see him flex a little. On principle. “If I’m doing this for you, then I want you to do something for me.”

One dark eyebrow lifted. “The amount I’m paying could buy you a small Italian sports car.”

“I don’t want a sports car.”

His gaze locked on hers and tension shimmered between them. “Then what,” he asked softly, “do you want me to do for you?” There was an intimacy in that gaze that made her heart kick hard against her ribs.

“I want you to go to the Snowflake Ball.”

There was a long, loaded silence.

His expression was unreadable. “Why does it matter to you if I go to the damn ball?”

“Because I want to go, and I’m not walking in there on my own. You’re going to take me.”

At least then she’d be one step closer to achieving her goal of getting out of the apartment.

“And if I say no?”

“Then I won’t come and work for you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I hardly think your partners would allow you to turn down a piece of business that significant.”

“I’m an equal partner. It’s my decision,” Eva said quietly. “So what’s it to be?”

“You’re serious?”

“If I’m stuck indoors in your apartment for the next three weeks, at least I’ll have this one opportunity to get out and meet people.”

“So you don’t plan on being my date. Your plan is to use me shamelessly to gain entry into the ball and then abandon me?”

“Yes. And that shouldn’t bother you because I’m sure you’ll be mobbed by gorgeous women the moment you set your foot inside the place. With luck, you’ll meet someone, too.”

“Too?”

“Yes. I’m going to get lucky. I feel it.” What she really wanted, of course, was to get lucky with him, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, and she wasn’t prepared to get involved with someone who wasn’t ready. She needed a straightforward relationship that made her happy. She didn’t have the emotional resilience to cope with more trauma, no matter how scorching the chemistry.

“Have you been talking with my grandmother?”

“No. I planned to stop by to see her tomorrow on my way home. So what’s your answer, Mr. Blade? Will you take me to the Snowflake Ball?”

“If that’s your price, then yes.” A sardonic smile touched his mouth. “You were the one who got me into it. Seems only fair that you have to endure the evening with me.”

“Endure?”

“Oh, yeah, the Snowflake Ball at the Plaza will be a real hardship for her,” Frankie muttered. “Torture in a tux.”

Eva shot her friend a quick glare before turning back to Lucas. “We have a deal?”

“We do. But what happens when this ball doesn’t live up to your expectations? I know that top of your Christmas list is meeting someone, but your list of requirements was pretty specific.”

Paige frowned. “You know about her list?”

“I do. What were your criteria again?” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Broad shoulders, abs, sense of humor— ability to tolerate your ancient teddy bear and enough stamina to give your condom a decent workout before it expires like the last one you carried in your purse.”

Paige glanced at Eva in disbelief. “Ev—?”

Eva felt her face burn. Why did she have such a big mouth? “I don’t see anything wrong in being honest, although I admit I didn’t mean to tell him all that. It sort of slipped out. And it isn’t a teddy bear, it’s a kangaroo.”

Frankie dropped her head onto her desk. “You’re not safe to be let out. If you go to that ball, what’s to stop you going home with some sleaze?”

“I am a very good judge of human nature.”

Frankie lifted her head and gave Lucas a long, hard look and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if they were in perfect agreement on something.

“She’ll be safe with me. I promise not to let her go off with anyone unsavory.”

“You think you can tell what someone is like by just looking?”

“No.” His response was immediate. “That’s why you should know she’ll be safe with me. I have no illusions about human nature.”

“He doesn’t.” Eva confirmed it. “It’s very disturbing. And I wish you’d all stop talking about me as if I’m some abandoned puppy that needs a home. I can bite when I need to, thank you.”

He turned back to her. “So now I’ve agreed to this, you’ll come back and work for me?”

“Yes. I need to pack a few things, though. I’ll come over tomorrow.”

“Tonight. Time is tight.” He checked his watch. “Give me your home address and I’ll send a car for you. I don’t want you traveling on the subway.”

“We’ll email the contract over to you right away.” Paige was brisk and businesslike and Lucas gave a brief nod and left the room.

Eva stared at her friends. “You just sold me. To the highest bidder.”

“He was the only bidder,” Frankie said cheerfully and Paige grinned as she opened up their standard contract on her computer.

“I didn’t ‘sell’ you. I cut a very good deal for Urban Genie.”

“You sold me for the same price as that small Caribbean island Matilda and Chase are currently staying on.”

“And you still get to work while you’re there. This is the deal of the century. I love my job. And you, Miss Jordan, are very good at yours. I’ve pulled up your schedule. We’ll reassign your external commitments and the rest you can do from Lucas’s apartment. Just check in here with us from time to time.”

“I’ve never been a character in a book before,” Eva said with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“It’s exciting!” Frankie dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “I want that book! He’s the only author that makes me prioritize reading over sleep. You’re his inspiration. His muse. Whatever. He’s obviously made you his sweet, vulnerable victim. It’s cute. I can’t wait to read how he plans to murder you.”

“Victim?” The thought made her uncomfortable. “I was hoping to be the smart, sassy FBI agent or something. If I’m the victim I’m definitely going to fight back. I’d use that deadly move you taught me.”

Frankie sat back in her chair. “I only taught you one? A couple more might be useful.”

Eva had a vision of Lucas, his body hard on hers as he pressed her into the floor.

“You think he is going to have me murdered?”

“In his story, Eva. This is fiction. I don’t know anything about how a writer’s mind works, I just read the stuff. And whatever it takes, right? If he needs you as his muse, then go.”

“I don’t want to die horribly. Maybe this is a mistake.”

“It isn’t a mistake. Apart from the fact he’s paying you enough money to ensure that none of us has to work for the first six months of next year unless we want to, he’s taking you to the ball, Ev. You’re going to love that. Think of all the Prince Charmings you could meet.”

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