CHAPTER ONE
A breeze wafted in through my bedroom window, lifting the lace curtains. Down on the street two floors below, a car honked and someone shouted in Spanish. Women chattered and birds chirped. Spring. It had arrived just as gloriously as it always did.
I took a deep breath and gazed at myself in the floor-length mirror leaning against the wall. I meant to hang it weeks ago, but like so much else in the apartment, I just hadn’t gotten around to it. Nearly six months into the lease and I still wasn’t sure how I felt about living alone. It was weird, waking up in the middle of the night and being able to do whatever I wanted. I knew it was good... well, hopefully I would one day see it as good. Besides, it was past time to cross living alone off the bucket list. But it was still odd, just like almost everything else that had happened in my life this past year.
I brushed some of my blonde hair from my eyes and twisted my lips, making a funny face at myself.
“Don’t be nervous,” I said out loud. “You got this.”
I scrunched up my nose, Mirror Me not believing Right Side Me.
“Really,” I stressed to my reflection, giving myself an encouraging fist pump. “Really.”
The one seriously fantastic bonus about living alone that I had discovered? You could talk to yourself twenty-four-seven, and no one else was around to look at you funny.
With a confident nod at myself, I turned from the mirror to rifle through one of my jewelry boxes. My recent visit to the Swap-O-Rama flea market had turned into something akin to hitting a gold mine. Brightly colored chunky bracelets now filled one side of my blue velvet jewelry box. I selected a coral one and an orange one, slipping them both on my left wrist, the blend the perfect complement to my reddish-orange and white romper. Just being fully accessorized had a way of making me feel better.
Snatching up my leather fringed purse from the bed, I left the bedroom and crossed the tiny living room.
“Phone,” I murmured to myself, feeling in the bag for it. “Keys... check.”
I unlocked the front door and yanked it open... then let out a yelp.
“Sorry.” Derek grinned, gazing down at me. His unruly brown hair fell down over one side of his face, nearly hiding one of his eyes. He looked like a college kid trying to be goth. When I first met him, I thought he was actually younger than he was, mostly because of the hair.
I exhaled loudly. “It’s all right. I was just... lost in my head. How are you?”
“Good.”
I rolled up onto my tiptoes so I could reach his face and give him a quick peck on the lips.
“Were you leaving?” He shifted his weight and rested an arm against the doorway.
“Yeah, I’m going to the orphanage today. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” He straightened up. “Well, let me walk you to your car.”
“Sure.”
Derek stepped out of the way and waited silently while I pulled the door to my apartment closed and locked it up.
“How’s it going over there?” he asked as we clomped down the stairs.
“Good.” I smiled just thinking of their faces. “The kids at Hampton Road are great.”
He pushed the building’s front door open and held it for me as I hurried through and out onto the bright sidewalk. “I parked on the street last night,” I explained. “Just down a bit. I’m sorry you stopped by for nothing. I thought you knew Saturday was going to be my regular day there.”
He shrugged before looping an arm around my shoulder. I pressed up against him, the crook of his arm warm and familiar. Derek and I had been dating for about four months, ever since we met through mutual friends at a concert. He was the only man I’d been with in the whole last year and the relationship sometimes seemed too good to be true. It was smooth, easy. We had our own things that we did separately, and we had our things that we did together. It was my life and his life, the two existing independently but meeting in the middle like one of those bubble graphs showing what two variables had in common. It was a simple and well-defined formula. It worked for us.
Wait. Was that called a bubble chart? Or was there another name for it?
“It’s all right,” Derek replied, jarring me out of my head. “I have a few hours to kill before work.”
I nodded, trying to act like I totally hadn’t spaced out for a few seconds. “How’s it going at the shop?”
“Pretty good. Lots of people bringing in their cars to get checked out before they go on vacation.”
We stopped next to my silver Honda. “I can hang out later,” I told him. “When do you get off work?”
He shrugged. “Depends on what time Rodney leaves. I’ll text you.”
“Okay.” I smiled up at him. “Maybe we can catch a movie or something if you’re not too tired.”
“Yeah, there’s that new James Bond.”
I wrinkled my nose slightly.
Derek laughed, the smile transforming his face. “Come on. You’re the last person who should hate James Bond.”
I snorted. “It’s so fake.”
“Every movie is fake. Those romances you love, especially. People don’t just meet and fall in love then get married all in one week.”
I gently swatted his arm. “That’s not how they go!”
“Close enough.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, knowing he was right. “Whatever. Well, either way, have a good day.”
“You too, babe.” Derek bent down to kiss me, then turned with a wave before striding off down the street.
Realizing that I had no clue as to what the exact time was, I quickly pulled my keys from my purse and hopped into the car. Being late on my third day of volunteering would not be good. The staff there was friendly and understanding, but I’d been raised to never make people wait. Any time I did it, I ended up feeling awful about myself.
On the first day to Hampton Road Orphanage, I used GPS to take me there. On the second day, I used my memory but then ended up taking the wrong road once or twice. Surely by my third day, I would finally have it down.
Heading out of Chicago after the weekend rush hour meant traffic was fairly light, and I made it to the three-story brownstone in great time. Tall oak trees dappled the small gravel parking lot with shade, making it the perfect temperature. Built decades before as a summer home for some rich scholarly family, a full wraparound porch hugged the building. Lush green grass stretched out all around the property, giving it an impressive amount of land when compared to the lower middle-class houses clumped together on the rest of the street.
I tossed my sunglasses on the passenger seat next to my purse, then locked the car and left everything behind. The upcoming day’s activities were still a mystery, but since my other volunteer hours had involved cleaning the kitchen and taking a group to the park to play basketball, this third one would likely be just as physically involved. I didn’t want to be encumbered by a bag hanging off my shoulder or a ringing cell phone.
I took the front porch steps two at a time, escaping into the cooler air of the awning. Before I could open the door, it flew open, a little face appearing only inches above the door knob.
“Blaire!” Jenny yelled up at me, her strawberry blonde pigtails bouncing along with her feet. “Blaire!”
Though there were a couple dozen kids in the orphanage and I wasn’t even close to remembering half of their names, Jenny would be the hardest to forget. At six, she was one of the most precocious and social kids I’d ever run into. She was also a master manipulator as the orphanage’s director quietly told me on the first day. Jenny could design excuses to get what she wanted like a spider weaves webs.
“Hi Jenny,” I said, stepping inside. “You answer the door now?”
“Jenny!” a woman’s voice called from somewhere down the long hallway.
Jenny ignored the call, instead keeping her pale blue eyes trained on me. “Cris... Cris... on is here.”
“Oh.” I paused, not having even the tiniest idea what the child was talking about. “Okay... well, that’s nice.”
Teresa, the home’s director, popped her head out of the doorway leading to the kitchen. “Jenny! Aren’t you going to go play Red Rover? They’re out there waiting for you.”
“Okay!” the little girl yelled, turning and barreling down the hallway. The back screen door gave under her palms, and a second later, she vanished into the back yard. Realizing the front door was still left hanging wide open, I turned around and gently shut it.
Teresa came out into the hallway, the dozens of gold bangles she always wore clinking together musically as she lifted a hand to brush some silver and black streaked hair from her brow.
“Blaire,” she sighed. “You’re looking good. I love those bracelets. How are you?”
I smiled wide. “Great! How are you?”
“Just fine,” she said with a bright smile of her own. Though Teresa easily had one of the craziest jobs in the whole city, she always moved with grace, constantly wearing a smile and giving her full attention to whoever was in front of her. She reminded me of my mother in a way, although a much calmer version of the woman who raised me. Maybe it was her warmth. She had told me she’d never had any children of her own, but to see her with the twenty kids who lived at Hampton Road, it was clear she felt very motherly towards each and every one of them.
“Good, good.” She sighed lightly and rested her hands on her hips. “Thanks for coming on a Saturday. Amy is busy getting the last minute stuff together for her wedding, so she’s gone until tomorrow. Until then it’s just me.”
“Oh, no worries. It’s my pleasure. I can even stay longer today if you want me to. I have nothing going on.”
She bit her bottom lip, her eyebrows bunching together. “Let’s see... it seems to me I had something... hmm...” She ran her thumb over her lip, thinking hard. “There was something I had planned for you to do, but now I just don’t remember it. Oh well.” She threw her hands up in defeat.
“I can help clean,” I suggested. “Or take some kids to the park. You know, whatever you need.”
She smiled. “Oh, that’s all right. I don’t think any of them will want to leave. One of their favorite visitors is here. He’s out back playing with them.”
I cocked my head. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm. Cristiano Leventis.”
My heart flipped. “The Cristiano Leventis?”
“You’ve heard of him?”
I slowly nodded. “He was on the local news last month. I don’t remember which station, but he was in this segment about up and coming Chicago entrepreneurs.”
“I saw that!” she exclaimed, then wiggled her eyebrows. “He looked so good.”
Yes, he did. So good, in fact, that the sight of his face had bestowed me with my first real insta-crush in years. I hadn’t gone so ga-ga for a guy I didn’t know since fourth grade and N’Sync’s first album cover. His raven black hair, olive toned skin and sparkling amber eyes had practically melted me to the couch cushion.
I swallowed hard. “C-cool.” So that was what Jenny had been trying to spit out. Cristiano was there, in the flesh.
Teresa smiled even wider. “Why don’t you go out and play with them? He’s a really wonderful young man.” She winked at me. “He’s single too... as far as I know.”
I nodded, blushed, and squirmed all at the same time, suddenly feeling put on the spot. Could Teresa read the effect the mention of Cristiano’s name had on me? “All right,” I said with a thick tongue.
Stay professional, I told myself. This isn’t about you getting kicks from the attention of some semi-famous hot guy.
Still slightly nervous, I crept my way into the back yard. Ten or so of the kids were in the shady part of the fenced-in yard, Jenny among them. The smaller ones ran around shrieking, not seeming to be playing any game that I could detect. A couple of the older children yelled after them, telling them to pay attention so they could hear the rules of the game.
And there was Cristiano, every inch the man I’d seen on the television screen, and yet so much more. Technology didn’t do him justice, didn’t capture the way he shone, the way he seemed to command not only the attention of those near him but the very elements of nature itself.
I stayed planted on the porch, watching the scene unfold. Compared to the children, Cristiano looked out of place in the yard, running around in dress pants and a blue button-up shirt. He clapped his hands and called to one of the kids, a grin on his face.
Without any warning, his head turned, and those tiger eyes fell right on mine.
Everything got hazy, and my stomach twisted into a tornado of butterflies. Cristiano’s smile flickered and dimmed a bit, his eyes gazing questioningly at me. After a few seconds, the smile picked back up, turning into an all-out ear to ear grin. I smiled back, the assurance coming from him making me less nervous.
“Hey!” one of the boys, whose name I couldn’t remember, called to me. “Come play!”
I dumbly nodded in his direction and ambled down the steps, all too aware of Cristiano’s eyes on me the whole way. I stopped at the corner of the group. “So, what’s up, guys?”
The noise picked up, everyone talking at once. I bit my lip and waited. Various kids shouted out their demands for games, while others argued that they wanted to stick with Red Rover.
Cristiano spoke up, his voice smooth and low. “Those who want to play Red Rover come over here. If there are enough people, then we’ll play it, and the rest of you guys can go do something else. We’ll play whatever game you want next.” He raised his hand, but no one came over.
“Red Rover, Red Rover,” Cristiano lightly sang. “Is no one coming over?”
Apparently, the kids who initially wanted to play the game had changed their minds. They were all dispersing, running off to play soccer or climb on the wooden playground set.
After a few seconds, it was only Jenny, me, and Cristiano.
I laughed. “Sorry.”
He grinned at me over Jenny’s head. “It happens.”
A shiver went down my back. That voice... hearing it directed at me was like being doused in warm honey. Never before had I heard a voice so smooth and comforting. Surely it was a crime for a man to be in possession of such delicious tones and timbres. How could women be expected to properly function around him?
Hell, maybe they didn’t. Maybe most of them lasted a few seconds before tumbling to the ground, their entire nervous systems malfunctioning from overload.
“I want to watch the bunny show,” Jenny announced.
Cristiano patted her head. “You’ll have to ask Teresa, Jenny. I don’t know if it’s TV time right now, and I’m not the one who makes the rules.”
“Oh, yeah,” she agreed. “It’s not TV time. Hey Cris-oh, this is my friend Blaire. She has blon... um, blonde hair and likes mermaids too.”
Her small hand pushed its way into my palm. I squeezed it lightly and smiled down at her.
“Actually,” I corrected Jenny and poked her in the belly. “I love mermaids.”
She giggled. “Yeah, me too.”
When I looked up, Cristiano’s eyes were on me. “Nice to meet you, Blaire.”
“You too,” I volleyed back. “So do you, uh, come here a lot?”
He nodded. “Yes. But I’ve never seen you.”
“This is only my third time here.”
“You already seem to be well loved.”
Jenny giggled. “That means married. Love means you’re married.”
I laughed along with her. The kid was non-stop with the giggles. “Not always. You can love anyone, not just people you’re married to. There are all kinds of love. More than we could probably ever count, actually.”
“Oh,” she said, looking solemn. “Yeah. Teresa loves me.”
“Exactly,” I agreed.
“I’m going to see if she’ll let me watch TV.”
“Tell her you love her first,” Cristiano suggested, with a wink in her direction. “That might help your cause.”
“Okay!”
Jenny ran into the house, leaving us behind.
I cleared my throat and glanced around the yard, seeing if any of the children might need my attention. Presently, they were all good, deeply involved in games with each other.
“Looks like we’re not needed,” Cristiano said, echoing my thoughts.
I nodded. “Oh well.”
“Why here?”
I blinked and glanced at him. A thick wave of hair fell over his right eye to gleam in the late morning light. It reminded me a bit of Derek, and yet not at all. Though I’d only just met the man in front of me, I already knew he and Derek had next to nothing in common. It was a deep sense in my gut that informed me that no one on the planet was quite like Cristiano Leventis.
“Um, sorry?” I shook my head, feeling stupid for having already forgotten his question.
“Why did you decide to volunteer here?” he asked again, not seeming to be annoyed by my stupidity. “I’m merely curious. We have volunteers come through here, of course, but they usually pick the orphanage through some kind of program, such as a church or school.”
“Oh! Right... I’ve worked with kids before, and I kind of miss it, so that’s basically what brought me here.”
He stepped an inch closer, focusing on me as if I was the most important person in the world to him right then. “Where did you work with children before?”
“When I was in high school, my mom and I would go to the homeless shelter in our neighborhood. She worked at the daycare there once a week, so I just kind of tagged along.”
“Your mother is already an impressive woman, and I’ve never met her.”
I smirked. “Just because of that?”
“Yes.” His head tilted slightly to the side, giving him a boyish look. “Making the time to care for others isn’t something that most people do. We’re all too... busy with our lives.” He looked across the yard at the children playing. “Busy with ourselves,” he added, as if an afterthought.
“What about you?” I asked, not eager to keep talking about myself. “What brought you here?”
Cristiano blinked and looked down at the grass near his polished dress shoes. “A long and winding path.”
The tone he used told me it was a touchy subject. I shut my mouth, my mind racing for the next conversation piece.
Cristiano was already going on though. “Jenny seems to like you.”
“She seems to like you.”
He smiled. “She probably likes everyone. So... Blaire. May I ask more about you?”
I bit back a smile. He was so polite and formal. Was it forced, crafted, or just the way he naturally was?
I glanced toward the house. No Teresa. No kids in need. Nothing to do.
“Of course,” I answered.
He looked at me with what seemed to be genuine interest. “What do you do?”
“I... I’m kind of in between jobs right now.”
“I see. So that’s why you decided to come here?”
“Uh... no. It doesn’t really have anything to do with that. I still plan on volunteering here even after I get a job.”
My response clearly pleased him. “Now I like your mother even more. She raised quite a woman. What would you like to do?”
“I’m figuring it out, actually,” I said, knowing how lame that sounded. “I’m still trying to figure out just what I want to do, and what I’d be best at.”
He nodded, looking at me as if I was some puzzle he hadn’t quite solved. “It can take a while.”
“For me it has. What about you? Have you figured it out?”
He laughed, the deep timbre of the sound going straight to my belly. “Not at all. But there’s time... for both you and me.”
I lifted a fist and smiled when he bumped it. “Here’s hoping.”
“I’m in the stock market,” he added, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Oh.” I nodded, wondering just what that meant. Did he buy and sell stocks? Advise others on buying and selling?
“I like your outfit,” he commented, his eyes moving down to my toes. “Very retro.”
I looked down at my hands, at the thick bracelets around one wrist. “Thanks. Almost all my clothes are vintage. It’s something I kind of got into over the last year.”
“I’ll have to keep coming back here, so I can see the rest of your wardrobe.”
I grinned up at him. “And what about you? Do you always dress so nice?”
His amber eyes twinkled. “Only on my best days. Although I have to tell you, I can be a lot of fun once the suit comes off.”
I caught myself one millisecond before imagining him naked and laughed at his attempt at a joke instead. One more second and I cut the chuckle short. Was I flirting? And not even an hour after kissing my boyfriend goodbye?
I cleared my throat and looked away. Nope. This wasn’t good. Not at all. It didn’t matter who the man standing in front of me was. Chicago’s top entrepreneur... or Money Man... or whatever the fricking name that news program had given him.
Teresa came out onto the back porch, calling for one of the children.
I quickly glanced at Cristiano. “I should go see if I can be of some help.”
He nodded. “I have to be going anyway.”
My heart sank a little... and then I reminded myself it didn’t have to. Cristiano was completely and totally off limits. Him leaving before I started all out salivating would be a swell idea.
He went on. “When will you be back here?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, really. We haven’t worked out an exact schedule yet.”
I pursed my lips against the half-truth. My schedule actually was starting to shape up, with Saturdays being my primary day, and I shouldn’t have lied to Cristiano about it. I just didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, to make him think that I was asking him to come back and see me.
He gazed directly at me. “I wish that was good enough for me, but I would really like to see you again.”
Oh damn. My legs set to quaking. I wanted to beg him to repeat the words, to say them over and over again until I was nothing but putty in his hands.
I licked my dry lips, not sure how to respond. “Well, I have plans with my boyfriend tonight...”
There. A casually thrown out mention of a boyfriend. It was kind of a dick move, but I didn’t want Cristiano to think I was actually interested in him. Maybe mentioning Derek would be enough to deter him without flat out turning him down.
My response didn’t seem to faze Cristiano in the slightest. “Another time then.” The response was simple, but the look in his eyes was not. The look held promises that curled my toes and forced the air from every cell of my lungs.
Then he smiled and turned away, walking across the grass, carving a line around the side of the house. Every step was confident and smooth. Strong. Riveting.
I shook my head, trying to yank myself out of the daze.
Teresa still stood on the back porch, involved in talking to one of the boys in a low voice. I jogged across the grass and hovered at the bottom of the steps, waiting until their conversation had finished to approach her.
“Hey,” I started.
Teresa beamed at me. “Did you meet Cristiano?”
“I did. He’s... nice.”
And sexy... and suave... and commanding... and just mysterious enough without being cold-shouldered.
“He comes here a lot, although sometimes he’s out of town and has to skip his regular visits.” She leaned back on the edge of the banister, bracing herself with her arms. “He’s a pretty big honcho in the stock market, though he doesn’t like to brag about it.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “So I do it for him.”
She laughed lightly, and I joined in.
“Most of the kids have known him for years,” Teresa went on.
“What’s his story?”
She looked slightly surprised. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“Cristiano spent six years here. And then he went into foster care. But he’s been visiting his whole adult life. When he’s in Chicago, he doesn’t miss a week.”
“He’s from here?”
She nodded. “I worked here when he was dropped off. It was my first year.”
I stared at her, riveted. “And who dropped him off?”
Teresa opened her mouth but then seemed to think better of whatever she was about to say and pursed her lips together instead. “Oh, I don’t know, honey. They didn’t say.”
“His parents?”
Teresa shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
I looked down at the wooden steps. “Wow. That’s crazy...”
“I know,” Teresa murmured. “And just what he had been through we’ll never know.”
“He was too young to talk?”
“He didn’t seem to want to. He said a little bit when he got older, but it wasn’t much. Certainly nothing for us to go on.” She waved her hand. “Oh, but that was so long ago. Let’s forget about it.”
“Okay,” I answered, knowing I would do anything but forget. Those intense coppery eyes... the long, sweeping black lashes. The full lips. The golden skin.
How could any woman do anything but forever remember a man like Cristiano Leventis?