I could have called him to come get the credit card, but I didn’t want to return it that way. I was too curious—and for once, I let that curiosity win. I would have been crazy to pass up any chance to see more about Luke Rothschild’s life, and his credit card had just presented me with that opportunity.
It didn’t disappoint.
Luke Rothschild lived at 546 North Ocean Boulevard, in a neighborhood of Palm Beach known for expansive and immaculate beachfront properties that came with private access to the ocean. His home was no exception—a white craftsman, clapboard mansion with a wraparound porch and a double front-door entry. It had grass that reminded me of a carpet, and a slip of private beach access across the street. A small sign on the driveway pointed to the service entrance, and I parked my car behind a blue Ford Focus I guessed belonged to a member of the household staff.
An older man in a pair of blue overalls emerged from the side of the estate. “May I help you?” He wiped his hands on a gray towel as he walked toward me. “Is there something you need?”
“Is Lu—Mr. Rothschild home?”
It felt strange to say his name, and even stranger to call him Mr. Rothschild, but I didn’t think I counted as one of his friends. I didn’t know what I counted as. An acquaintance? A random woman?
“He’s inside. May I tell him who you are?”
“Um…Natalie… Natalie Johnson.”
I resisted the urge to add the words “no one” at the end of my name. Since the man didn’t invite me inside, I decided to wait by the car and figure out a snappy way to reintroduce myself to Luke when I saw him again.
But I couldn’t come up with anything that sounded very good in my head.
In fact, I had never been good on my feet like that. In eighth grade, I cost our team the state debate championship because I froze during the last question. In college at the University of Miami, I made a C in speech class because I flubbed the extemporaneous part of the oral exam.
And so, when Luke walked out of the back doorway, for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. God, he was hot. So hot. Gorgeous. The kind of handsome that could sell a million magazines. The kind that could tempt people into purchasing watches or cologne they didn’t need. And the kind of attractive that could send chills up my spine, even on a ninety-degree day.
“Nice to see you again,” he called out as he moved closer to me.
“Yeah, uh… I just…” I swallowed, willing the dryness in my mouth to go away. “Good to see you, too.”
“You don’t sound like you’re good.”
“No, I am.” I shook my head. “Really. Good—great—to see you again.”
He stopped near the hood of my car. A wry grin crossed his face. “Are you stalking me, Natalie?”
My cheeks flushed with heat. Yes, a hundred times, yes.
When I didn’t reply right away, he laughed to himself. “I guess I should expect this since I wrote my address on those forms at your studio.”
“What can I say? You asked for it.” I raised an eyebrow and tried to recover from being thrown off by the sheer manliness of him. “How are you feeling? Sore?”
“Nah, I think I can make it. Like I said, I’ll have to start taking more classes. Maybe some private ones.” Luke stopped about five feet away from me. “I have to admit, I didn’t think that I would see you so soon.”
“You mean you left your American Express platinum card at the studio on purpose?”
“What? I did?” His eyes twinkled.
I drew in a swift rush of air, mesmerized once again by his brooding, intense brown eyes. If bellies could also twinkle, mine did at that very moment.
I could get used to this…
“No, I didn’t leave my credit card on purpose,” Luke continued. “I would never leave behind something so important.”
I smiled. “Maybe you were distracted.”
“Maybe I was.”
He braced his arm on my car, next to a medium-sized rust patch that never failed to remind me how much of a beater it was, and how desperate I often felt about my finances. I tried not to focus on that, though. Instead, I kept my attention on the finer details about the man before me. For example, when he grinned, his eyes brightened, and all his facial features sharpened. His arm had a light spray of freckles, and he wore a Rolex watch. He still hadn’t changed out of the t-shirt and sweatpants. Up close, I noticed the faded outline of the Harvard crest in the center of the shirt.
Of course.
A man like Luke would attend a prestigious university—maybe two, and probably after completing high school at an elite private school with tuition costing more than most people made in a year. It would practically be criminal if he didn’t have a pedigree with a past like that. I wondered if he’d had the grades to get in to Harvard, or if his parents made a significant donation. Not that it really mattered. It just cemented what I already knew—that Luke traveled in circles I could never get into.
He was so out of my league. But I’d always wanted things I couldn’t have.
“After you left, I found the card at the desk.” I took the Amex from my back pocket and examined it. It wasn’t made of plastic, but something else, something thicker and sturdier than any card I’d ever carried.
“It’s made of stainless steel,” Luke whispered.
“It is?” I forced myself to feel steadier and more confident. “You know, I could have done some major damage on Worth Avenue with this. I bet the salesgirls at Neiman Marcus wouldn’t have blinked.”
“They all know me.”
“I’m sure they do.” I laughed at the idea of racking up charges for thousands of dollars in jewelry, designer handbags, and expensive shoes with red bottoms bearing names I couldn’t pronounce. That would be fun. A total fantasy. “But I figured…you know where I work.” I presented the card to him. “So, no unexpected charges.”
“How kind of you.”
He took the other end of the plastic, and for a second, we held it together on opposite sides, his gaze penetrating my soul. I couldn’t look away, even if I’d wanted.
Part of me wanted to stare into his eyes forever.
“Drinks,” he said under his breath.
“What?” I let go of my end of the card.
“A drink. Inside. Would you like to come inside for a drink?”
“Of course.” The reply floated out of my mouth after barely a thought.
“Good.” Luke grinned, showing off a row of perfect, pearly teeth as he slipped the American Express into his pants pocket. “I owe you at least that much for your careful protection of my credit rating.”
“When you put it that way…” I clicked my teeth a few times. “How can I say no?”
Luke led me to the massive kitchen just off the side entrance to the house. That room alone had about the same square footage as my apartment, and it contained a large double oven, subzero refrigerator, center island, and a beautiful blue Mediterranean backsplash. I’d seen kitchens like this in magazines, but never up close. This one came right out of a chef’s dream, and could have been photographed for any editorial spread in a glossy monthly magazine.
Wow.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” Luke gestured at four black barstools that rimmed an extended countertop. I followed his orders and chose the middle one. He walked to the fridge and opened the right-hand side. “Let’s see. I have red wine, soda, sparkling water, some lemonade…”
“Sparkling water is fine.”
He turned around, and my stomach flipped as I noticed how the light from the kitchen window highlighted the angles of his face and sharpened his jaw. “Would you like a shot of vodka in that?”
“No, that’s fine, just straight.”
“You’re not one of those health nuts, are you? No drinking? Juicing all the time? Lot of kale salad?” His gaze roamed my body for a brief beat, and again, a familiar deliciousness twisted in my stomach. “Since you teach yoga and all.”
“Nope. Just don’t like drinking on a weeknight.”
“I do.”
I laughed. “Noted. And just for reference, I don’t like kale.”
“Me either. Tastes like cardboard.”
Luke took a bottle of beer from the shelf in the fridge door. “I’ll drink to that.” He fixed my drink, then settled down on the barstool at the other end of the countertop. “Bottoms up.” He raised his bottle of beer to me, and I raised my glass.
We both took a sip, and we didn’t take our eyes off each other. In fact, for a moment, it felt like once again, he could see inside of me, all the way to the deepest and most hidden parts of my soul. I shivered at the thought—because I liked it. A lot.
I wanted him to look at me that way more. Much more.
“You’re very interesting, Natalie,” he said as he set down the beer.
“Come on. I’m not.” I waved away his compliment. “What makes you say that?”
“Most of the women I know fall all over themselves to be around me. They think…they want something, and it’s obvious. You don’t seem to.”
“Except for the time when I ran into your car.”
He laughed. “Except for that.”
I thought again about my meager efficiency apartment, the outstanding balance on my car, my student loans, my credit card debt, and the fact that most weekend nights I can barely afford one drink at the city’s trendiest bars. Plus, this man had seen his share of cosmopolitan and sophisticated women in his life. I knew that without asking him. “I’m pretty boring, Luke. Nothing special. Just normal.”
He laughed. “What is ‘normal,’ anyway?”
“Average. Simple. The ninety-nine percent. Most of the people in West Palm.”
“You hardly fit the definition of the word ‘average,’ Natalie.”
“Trust me, I do.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“You should see my bank balance, then.” I laughed without humor and drank some sparkling water. “That’s pretty…below average. Student loans, credit card payments, the whole bit. Just like almost every other millennial I know. A busted budget before I even get paid.”
“Is that something you’re worried about? Money?”
“A little.” I shrugged and looked away, focusing for a moment on the intricate tile that made up the backsplash. Each one had a unique, scripted pattern created with blue paint. “Okay, a lot.”
“Why don’t you set a schedule and stick with it. You’ll pay it off in no time. Simple as that.”
“I wish it was that easy.” I sighed, thinking about the next loan payment for the thousandth time that week. “I needed the money so that I could study marketing and business at the U. They gave me a partial scholarship, but it didn’t cover all the costs. While I was there, I worked at a small insurance company in Coral Gables. They said they’d hire me full time when I graduated.” I paused. “And then they’d closed.”
“Just like that? That’s so sad.”
I glanced down at my sparkling water and cursed myself for not having taken up his offer of something stronger. “The owner died, and the whole business went into free fall. They had to lay off basically everyone. When I had trouble finding another job, my aunt offered to make me assistant manager at her studio.” I shrugged. “I’ve been in West Palm Beach ever since.”
He drank another swig of beer. “Do you like it here?”
The way he asked the question made it seem like he wanted an honest answer, not like he just longed to keep the conversation going. “No, I don’t think I do. At least…not up until now.”
“Hopefully, things will change soon.” He paused, and his gaze met mine again. “I have to say, the whole time that you’ve been sitting here, I’ve been wondering about something.”
I sucked in a rush of air. It felt like the atmosphere had changed in the kitchen. “What?”
Luke took another sip of his beer. “Are you seeing anyone?” he asked softly.
“As in dating?”
He nodded. “It’s probably rude to ask, but I’m curious.”
I shook my head. My love life was nothing more than a joke, and it had been for almost two years. My last date took place about a month before—a guy named John who worked for his family’s insulation business, got drunk before we ordered appetizers, and referred to women as “babes” in regular conversation. Before that, I’d had nothing but a string of first dates that led nowhere, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had sex.
In an age of swipe left and swipe right, dating sucked. Royally.
“I’m single,” I said. “Very single.”
“Good.”
My eyes widened. I hadn’t expected that reply. “Good?”
“Yes. Good.”
There it was again—Luke had the strangest expression on his face, the kind of look that made an electric pulse rush though my body. That hadn’t happened since junior year at the U, when I met Mark from Fort Myers, who drank too much cheap vodka and wanted to be an oncologist. Mark had set me off kilter too, and he was the first guy I ever thought I loved. The ten months we spent together had been some of the most intense of my life.
It hadn’t ended well, though—Mark cheated. Twice.
I stayed with him because I didn’t want to be alone, even though it hurt every day to keep up the relationship. It finally ended when we graduated, which seemed like the most natural time for a break. He moved to Tallahassee for medical school, and I stayed in South Florida. And since then, there hadn’t been anyone else who made my heart beat faster, the back of my neck heat up, and the toes curl in my sandals.
Except Luke.
Something vibrated on top of the desk in the far end of the room. “Excuse me.” Luke picked up an iPhone, read the screen, and cursed. “Just my luck.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Sort of.” He replaced the device. “Jennifer—a friend—was planning on accompanying me tonight to a cocktail reception that starts at seven.” He sighed. “She can’t make it up from Fort Lauderdale. Caught in meetings and a late condo showing for her real estate business.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I took another gulp of my drink and stood. “And speaking of which, I just looked at the time, and it’s almost six. I should go so that you can get ready.”
When I took a few reluctant steps toward the door, he moved in front of me and put his hand on my arm.
“Don’t leave yet.” His eyes searched mine, and another delicious tingle ran up and down my body. “What are you doing tonight?”
I didn’t have any plans besides doing laundry, cooking ramen noodles for dinner, and watching on-demand movies. Helen had already agreed to close the studio for the night, so I wouldn’t be needed there. But I also didn’t want Luke Rothschild to know my life really was so boring. Not when his was clearly so interesting.
“I have a few things I need to take care of—”
“Whatever it is, can it wait? I want you to come with me.” He smiled. “As my date.”
“Your date?”
“Yes.” I closed the space between us a little bit more. “Will you go with me?”
“But I…I don’t have anything to wear to something like that.”
“That’s okay.” I released her arm. “I have some dresses upstairs. A few might fit you.”
I didn’t add that the thought of her encased in a tight cocktail dress sounded exactly like what the reception needed. Palm Beach society could be so predictable sometimes, but it wouldn’t be with her around. She’d add some spice.
Natalie cocked her head. “Why do you have women’s clothing in your house?”
I didn’t have a great answer, and I knew I had to be careful about what I said next. The wrong reply would undoubtedly open a Pandora’s Box of questions about my old life with Faye Masters, and the fact that I’d spent the last few years dating every woman I could find to block out overwhelming grief I felt about her death. That plan had worked for a long time, and it had kept life without Faye from destroying my heart. But I didn’t want to discuss all of that with Natalie.
Not yet.
“Long story.” I motioned for her to come with me, and we walked down the center hallway, then traveled up the winding staircase to the second floor. “But I have a few, and I think they’ll fit you.”
I led her to one of the four guest bedrooms. The room was painted a shell pink, and decorated with a series of vintage travel advertisements for South Florida, Miami, and Key West. I opened the walk-in closet and took a few hangers off the racks. None of the dresses had been worn before; they had all just hung in the closet like silent reminders of all that I’d lost.
“What do you think?”
Natalie took the first black garment out of my hand and gasped at the label. “Gucci?”
“That one is. The others are”—I glanced at the tags— “Prada, Fendi, and Prozena Schuler.” I spread the outfits on the bed, remembering how much Faye had loved designer gowns, and shopping in general. In fact, the apparel still had the tags attached. She’d never had a chance to wear them.
I turned to Natalie and swept the thoughts of Faye from my mind. “You think one will work?”
One side of her mouth twisted upward. “I never said I’d go with you.”
“You’re right. You didn’t.” I took a step backward and waved a hand. “And you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” I let my gaze meet hers. “But it would be a lot better if you did.”
She stared down at the clothing. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
“Why not?”
I knew I was coming on strong, stronger than I should, but I couldn’t help myself, and I didn’t want to. I’d always had a weakness for interesting women, and Natalie certainly was that. I had to admit, it mostly came from the fact that she didn’t act like or look like any of the women I usually encountered during Palm Beach’s winter social season, or in New York’s moneyed crowd. She didn’t seem like she cared about who she thought I was—who everyone “thought” I was. She was also…natural. She had a petite and athletic body, small breasts, a dimple in the center of her chin, and blue eyes framed by curly, dark-blonde hair. No sign of fillers or Botox injections. No hint that she’d ever seen the inside of a plastic surgeon’s office. And no caked-on makeup that betrayed years of effort underneath.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been with a woman like this.
“Please come with me tonight,” I said. “You don’t know how boring these kinds of receptions can be. Once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all. You’ll make it unique.”
“You’re on. I’ll go.” She picked up the Proenza Schuler dress and examined its collar line. “What about shoes? A purse? Jewelry?”
“All in the closet. I think the shoes are about a size eight. No one will notice if they’re a little too big or too small on your feet—we won’t be walking very far.” I pointed at the bathroom. “Everything else is in there. Whatever you might need. A shower, anything. Hairspray…makeup…”
“Fully stocked?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”
“No.” I cleared my throat. “It’s all from my past. My…fiancée—ex-fiancée…used this bathroom most of the time. She had good taste. Expensive taste, too.”
“And once she left, you didn’t get rid of it?”
“Couldn’t come up with a very good reason why.” I sighed. “Part of me just wanted to hang on to them, even though she never wore them.”
“Why not?”
I swallowed. “She—” I cleared my throat, horrified at the sudden sting that formed there. Damn, this was harder than I’d imagined. “She, um…she died in a car accident about three months before we were supposed to get married. Faye went up to Nantucket for the weekend, and a semi-truck hit her rental car. Ran her off the road.”
Natalie’s eyes widened, and some of the color faded from her face.
I swallowed again; my tongue was growing thicker in my mouth with each word I spoke. “And I’ve been sort of drifting ever since.”
“Oh, my god,” she whispered, and lifted a hand toward me, but she dropped it as if she wasn’t sure if I would be receptive to her comforting touch. “I-I had no idea.”
“It was all over the papers…online…all of it. It was…” I studied the rows of unused, luxurious clothing and shoes, drew in the posh scent of Faye’s extended absence. “It was a nightmare.” When I looked at her again, I swallowed away some more of my grief. “I guess I’m surprised you didn’t know about it.”
The corners of her mouth softened. “I didn’t.”
I let out a rueful laugh. “I think you’re the first person I’ve met who doesn’t know anything about me. That’s…that’s refreshing.”
“If you want me to Google you and find it all out, I can.”
“No.” I waved a hand. “You don’t have to do that. Not unless you want to. Besides, you might not like what you find. The last few years of my life have been a blur. That’s probably the best way to describe it.”
“I can’t imagine.” She rubbed at her lips. Her eyes glistened, holding my gaze. “And I’m so sorry.”
“It happened almost three years ago.” My knees trembled. Odd. It was like Natalie brought out the emotion in me, whether I wanted it to be unleashed or not. I braced myself against the nearby dresser. “After she died, I shut people out. Drank myself to oblivion. Left New York City for good and moved down here to get away.”
“That sounds horrible.” Her cool hand touched my arm and she trailed her fingers in gentle swirls up my skin, causing my muscles to relax and my pulse to leap. “I’ve never lost anyone like that. I can’t imagine.”
“I drew in a deep breath. “But lately, I’m starting to live again. Things have…changed. For the better.”
She nodded and rubbed on my shoulder for a moment. I got chill bumps, and all thoughts of Faye faded from my mind. Instead, I got the most outrageous urge to yank Natalie into my arms and claim her with my mouth.
But she had other ideas.
“Okay, Luke Rothschild.” Natalie placed the dresses in the closet, then she glanced back at me. “You’re on. You’ve got a deal.”