“Brooke,” Catherine says my name as she streams into my office. Her hair is styled to perfection, and her dress is the shade of rubies. In her arms is a large Victoria’s Secret bag she sets down with a thump behind my desk. “Those are the purses you wanted. I found a few more while I was cleaning out another closet and a few other things that really aren’t my style.”

I stare at the overfilled bag and wonder what that means, what she’s considering to be my style. “Thank you. That was very generous.” I don’t mention that most of the purses will be going to Felicity.

“Also, my stylist picked out some new shoes for me, but she got them in the wrong size, the ditz. I don’t know if they’ll fit you or not, but if they don’t, you can just donate them or whatever.” She waves a hand dismissively, her red polish a perfect match to her dress.

Five years ago, I would have offered to return them, but time has taught me that offering to do random favors like this for Catherine leads to a plethora of random tasks with absolutely no connection to my job.

“Thanks.” I think.

“How did the meeting go yesterday? What did you think of the bar? Was it as bad as I’ve heard?”

My heart rate accelerates and pulses faster as my thoughts skip to this afternoon. Meeting Levi at the museum is seeming worse by the minute. I woke up early to straighten my hair. I changed outfits three times. I even shaved my legs, though I have no intention of anything happening between us. Still, I find myself wanting to look my best for him. I’ve been rationalizing that it’s out of a professional necessity rather than a personal one—and at this time, I’m completely fine with lying to myself.

I focus on the bar, feeling my face flush. “It’s definitely going to take some time and work. That area of town requires a lot of glitz, as you’re aware, but I think it has potential.”

“How was my son?” Catherine’s eyes flicker from me to my desk. “Was he receptive to your ideas? Did he seem interested?”

“He did. I have a meeting with him this afternoon to discuss the details he went over with his contractor.”

Catherine nods. “Good. Be sure to stay on top of this. Levi has a tendency to get flighty.” She gives a curt nod and leaves me to stew.

I’ve passed by the museum countless times. It’s as iconic to this city as the Sears Tower, which was renamed the Willis Tower—a name only younger generations and tourists acknowledge. Twice I was supposed to come here for field trips, and both times I’d been sick with tonsillitis, thwarting my visits to the vast attraction. I stand in front of the stone steps, large colored banners hanging from the high pillars above me. Many who pass to go inside are in shorts and T-shirts, enjoying the warm spring weather, making me second-guess my outfit again. I fidget, pulling on the hem of my black blouse. I should have worn something brighter, something with color, but because half of my wardrobe is gray and the other half is black, that’s a difficult task.

“Brooke.”

I turn, Levi’s voice distracting me from my racing heart and wardrobe. He’s wearing a charcoal-gray shirt and worn jeans. He looks casual and confident—and obnoxiously sexy. Suits are sexy. Fine materials that have been carefully altered to trace and allude to lines of masculinity, exuding power and strength. I’m a suit woman, have always been a suit woman, and suddenly with one glance, I’m ready to hop ship. Levi jogs closer toward me—the scene is something from an old romance film with a man calling out to the woman he was looking for, running closer to her until they embrace. Except in this scenario—reality—Levi stops several feet short, and instead of reaching for me, he wipes his brow. “Sorry I’m late. We had an issue with a vendor, and it was…” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter what it was except for that I’m really sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I thought you were just building the anticipation.” I smile.

Small creases appear between Levi’s bright-blue eyes as he studies me.

“For seeing the museum,” I blurt. “Not that you were trying to build anticipation of seeing each other.” My words are too forceful and loud, likely making me appear more nervous than I am. I close my eyes and rub the short path from the top of my nose to my hairline. “I’m a little nervous,” I confess. “You were right—this is a little awkward.”

A smirk teases his full lips. “Which is why doing this is a great idea.” Levi takes the last few steps closer to me.

I freeze like a deer in headlights. Even blinking becomes a chore as he nears me, his cologne invading the rest of my senses. Then he smiles, and that faint dimple appears and the parentheses around his defined lips, reminding me that out of all of his attributes, his smile is my favorite.

“Are you ready to be inducted into the Museum of Science and Industry? Because once this happens, there’s no going back.” His smile turns playful—a lopsided grin—and his eyes shine with humor.

“Ready.”

He places his hand on the small of my back as we turn to face the mammoth building. A couple of girls in their late teens stare at him as we pass; one giggles, and the other nods emphatically, but Levi doesn’t even glance in their direction. His free hand that swings at his side away from me is defined and strong, lacking any sign of ink that covers the arm behind us—the one that’s branding me with yet another handprint and memory I’ll be working to run both to and from over the next few nights. I clear my throat in an attempt to level my voice before asking, “What do your tattoos mean?”

Levi moves his hand and brings his arm forward, making me regret asking. The ink is all black. It looks like a quilt—the images each running into one another and pieced together by the next artful design. They aren’t pictures as much as designs of swirling geometric shapes. He rotates his arm so I can see the inside of his wrist where the images continue. “Are you ready for this?”

“I don’t know. Am I?”

He laughs. “It all began with getting this design.” He points to the center of his bicep. “This is home plate, representing the Sox.” I stare at the image, recognizing the shape. Levi runs his hand down the length of his arm. “This is my map of the city. All my favorite places. What shaped me into who I am.”

Levi nods. Like all of his movements, it’s graceful, but he lacks his usual confidence, this expression on the cusp of discomfort. The awkwardness passes in a moment, replaced by another one of his wide grins. “Now, I just show it off in hopes a pretty girl might ask me about it.” He winks, and my heart practically bursts through the protective confines of my chest.

It’s pitiful. Hook. Line. And Sinker. I’m a walking, talking cliché.

The entrance of the museum stalls my self-loathing as I nearly trip in an attempt to turn around so I can take in the entire space. There are only a couple of exhibits within view, and still I’m in love with being here.

“That’s only the gift shop. Just wait,” Levi says. He returns his hand to the small of my back and leads me over to a counter where there’s a large sign posting the operating times of the museum along with a short introduction about its history and how admission is free.

“This place is amazing. I wish I could host weddings in here. I think I’d cry happy tears.”

Levi chuckles. “Do you enjoy event planning?”

I nod. “I do. There are times when it’s stressful and exhausting, but what job isn’t?”

“I was expecting you to be older,” he tells me. “When my mom told me she was sending her best associate who had years of experience, I assumed it would be someone her age.”

“I’ve worked for your mother for nearly ten years. That’s why I couldn’t believe I had no idea you were her son.”

Levi shakes his head. “My mom and I have sort of a tumultuous relationship. Her intentions are for the best, but she has a tendency to be a bit … what had you said about her?”

My cheeks heat as I work to recall exactly what I had said. “I like your mother,” I tell him. “I was just a little stressed out and—”

“She was texting you about what kind of fruit she prefers on your day off,” Levi interjects. “She forgets that the world doesn’t always revolve around her.”

“It’s difficult for women to receive the same level of respect and admiration as men in the professional world—even in the nonprofessional world it can be. Your mom built an empire.” I never thought I’d find myself in the position to defend Catherine and her eccentric and demanding personality. “Though, she can be a bit much…”

Levi’s brows soar toward his hairline. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

We arrive at the front of the line, where Levi smiles at the woman sitting at the desk opposite of us. She smiles, her attention narrowed on him. “How may I help you?”

“This is my friend’s first time here.” Levi pauses for shock value. I roll my eyes, but the woman helping us leans forward, her eyes rounding with surprise. I’m sure it’s to humor him as much as it is to flirt, though she’s older than Catherine. “I was hoping to get all the maps, programs, and special whatevers you might have.”

She giggles and reaches for several pamphlets she collects into a short pile and hands to him. She proceeds to tell him about the daily show times and asks if there’s anything else she can assist him with, her eyes still focused solely on Levi.

“This is perfect. Thanks for your time, Suzanne.” He flashes another smile and gently presses his fingers into my back, leading me away from the desk.

We pass by a donation box that we each drop bills into, and then we head upstairs, Levi as my guide.

The first couple of hours pass by seamlessly, my excitement for seeing the exhibits diminishing my unease. We walk companionably, reading signs and discovering new things in the Transportation Gallery.

“That place makes me want to get my pilot’s license,” Levi says as we move past a final plane.

“My dad was a pilot.” I don’t know what compels me to share this with him since there’s no correlation, but finding middle ground with him seems almost necessary.

“No way. Mine was, too. Military?”

“He was, but he learned to fly as a kid. He was raised on a farm and learned how to fly with a crop duster.”

“Really?”

I nod. “For a while, he worked as a private contractor, and he took me up when he’d have to transport goods or a plane.”

“But he didn’t raise you?”

I try to hide my cringe, but Levi catches it, his pace slowing. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be intrusive.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s just … an old reaction. My parents realized that parenting was a lot more work and time than they’d originally realized, and it took a heavy toll on their relationship. They’d thought having another baby would make things better—strengthen their relationship—but after my brother was born, things just got worse. They divorced, and my mom moved to Florida, and my dad went down to South America for work, leaving us with our grandma.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic, every trace of his smile absent.

I shake my head. “Really, you shouldn’t be. I think being raised by my grammy was the best thing for us. It provided us with a structure and dependability we wouldn’t have received with our parents.”

Levi still looks pained but forces a smile. “I was really close to my grandfather growing up,” he tells me. “He was born into money, but he had this irrefutable respect and love for humanity. He didn’t care if your job was President of the United States or garbage man; he treated everyone with equal amounts of respect and kindness. I have no idea how my mom turned out so materialistic.” He shakes his head. “So, I know what you mean. I think my grandfather provided me with a sense of normalcy and stability. Plus, he taught me to care less about how much I was making and more on why I was making it. If I’d stayed in college and graduated with my business degree, I’d be as miserable as my parents.”

I glance at Levi as we continue our descent down a hall. I’ve never heard about Catherine’s ex-husband. She’s never mentioned him, and I’ve never dared to ask. “Are you close with your father?”

He looks at me and scoffs before shaking his head. “My dad is the most manipulative and conniving businessman you’ll ever meet. He takes great pride in scheming and ripping people off. But if you met him, you’d probably like him and think I was crazy because he’s also extremely charismatic and charming.”

It’s not fair of me to judge Levi’s parents or how they might have negatively impacted him when my own parents were as irresponsible and selfish as they come, but it’s difficult for me to not wonder which of their traits he might have. I attempt to stifle these thoughts with more questions. “And you have just the one brother?”

Levi nods. “He’s two years younger and lives in New York. He lives to make others miserable.”

I raise my eyebrows in question.

“He’s a lawyer,” Levi adds, winking. “But never for the good guys, because that’s not where the money is.”

“When did your parents get divorced?”

He raises a hand, running it over his golden locks as he looks across an aerial map, giving me a solid moment to appreciate his profile. The hard planes of his jaw, the straight line of his nose, the harsh curve of his chin. I wish his looks were all he had going for him. If he was simply a pretty face, it would make forgetting about him so much easier.

“They got divorced after my brother went to college, so a little over a decade ago.”

I reflect back on Catherine when I’d first met her, quickly searching for memories of her being upset or ever mentioning this to me. “I had no idea,” I tell him.

Levi shakes his head. “You wouldn’t. They only stayed married as long as they did because they thought it would embarrass us to be from a ‘broken home.’” He quotes the words. “This probably sounds ridiculous, but I think they wanted the best for us. They just used the wrong barometer to measure what that was.”

“Is your dad still in Chicago?”

He nods. “He married his fifth wife in January.” He props one eyebrow, a foreign glint in his eye. “Bride five didn’t know who my mom was and had met her for a consultation.”

My eyes round with shock.

“How did I not know this?”

Levi shrugs.

“He’s been married four times in ten years?”

“Technically, six, but two were annulled.”

I grasp his arm for support. “Seven? He was married seven times?”

“I told you he comes across as charming.”

“But once someone tells you they have six ex-wives, a warning sign pops up, complete with sirens and flashing lights.”

Levi chuckles. “Expensive gifts and flashy cars have a way of subduing those concerns.”

I shake my head. “If that’s distracting them, then they deserve to be stuck in a loveless relationship. No one should date someone because of money or a fancy lifestyle. You’re begging for a broken heart.”

“What if a guy bought you a fancy apartment in the city and filled it with expensive clothes and purses?”

I scrunch my nose. “I’m not much of a purse girl. I prefer shoes.”

He rolls his eyes back, laughing. “Okay, expensive shoes.”

“Then I’d eat my words, of course.”

Levi laughs. “People have the best of intentions to follow their moral compasses until they’re introduced to temptation.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” I glance at him, a coy smile on my lips.

He grins, his gaze dropping to the tiled floor.

Shit!

Am I flirting with him?

I’m who said we should be friends, and here I am, batting my eyelashes and giggling.

“What do you want to see next? Are you ready for the coal exhibit? This thing has been here for years.” He leads us down the corridor, hands at his sides. His wide shoulders pull his shirt taut. I remain back, watching the ease with which he moves. The fluidity and confidence with each step he takes is nearly hypnotic. My cheeks are heated with embarrassment, and I can’t decide if it’s because I reneged so quickly on my own ruling of us being platonic or if it’s because Levi was so unresponsive to my failed attempt at flirting.