Page 33 of VOGUEish

She flinched. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He glanced away. “That’s why I have a driver. Someone who I’ve paid to go to defensive driving school. Someone who won’t swerve when a deer runs into the road.” Not that there were a lot of deer in Manhattan, but his irrational fear didn’t care. “The morning of our taxi kerfuffle—”

“Kerfuffle?”

He met her gaze and saw the grin in her eyes. Tension melted from his shoulders. She was teasing him, but not about his fears. “That’s what Nonna called it. Anyway, the morning of the kerfuffle, I was taking a taxi because my driver had called in sick.”

She placed a hand on his arm, and her smile faded. “You don’t drive at all?”

“You have quirks. I have quirks,” he said, self-deprecatingly. “Yours are a lot cuter than mine.”

The waitress arrived with their food, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The conversation had become too real. “Thank you,” he said.

“May I get you anything else?” the waitress asked.

Chandler glanced at Isabella, who was smiling hungrily at her food. “I think we’re good.”

“Who did you live with after your parents died?” Isabella asked, picking up a taco and glancing at him expectantly.

“Nonna. If it weren’t for her, I’m not sure I would have made it.” His admission slid out with ease. What was it about Isabella that had him revealing so many of his truths? Truths that had been locked away for years. “There were days I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

Isabella sucked in a breath, dropped her fork, and lost her color.

What had he said that caused such a reaction? Whatever it was, he wished he could take it back.

“Enough of the feely stuff. New topic,” she demanded.

Fuck. He’d somehow hurt this woman. He quickly searched for a new discussion point. “I take it you don’t have a boyfriend, or you would have mentioned him when Nonna suggested the whole billionaire thing. Tell me about your last boyfriend.”

Her color returned, and she wrinkled her nose. “He was highly involved in the Doctors Without Borders program. We met the month I lived in Brazil. Great guy. Sexy in a nerdy way. Wanted two rescue dogs and three babies when the time came to fall in love and settle down. And he broke up with me because I’m a cat person and can’t see myself ever being a mom.” She glanced away but not before he saw a new pain in her eyes. Why didn’t she see herself as a mom?

“The guy sounds like a real dick.” The next time Isabella trusted him with their next topic of conversation, he’d choose the weather.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Chandler paid the bill and then stood and pulled Isabella’s chair out for her. In under an hour, he’d discovered he liked her. A lot. And not just because of her refreshing honesty, although that was hot. “I believe there’s to be a full moon tonight. Would you like to take a walk before you and your subway have their way with me?” It didn’t go unnoticed by him that just that morning he’d informed Nonna his preferred method of meeting the woman of his dreams was while walking under the full moon. Never could she ever know he was now acting upon that declaration.

Isabella laid a hand on his arm. “Oh honey, if I planned to have my way with you, it wouldn’t be on a dirty subway.”

He gave a rueful laugh. “Where would it be?” Loaded question to ask a woman he had every intention of keeping at arm’s length. But the moment he’d seen her waltz into the restaurant like an animated fashion sketch, his determination to date her once and then step back and watch while Nonna set her up with some billionaire had lost its steam.

And after one shared meal, he now wanted to prove to her he wasn’t always a bully and a grump.

Would that revelation be enough to move him out of her not-my-type column?

And if not, what was her type?

And why the hell did he even care?

She was one of Nonna’s projects and thus off limits.

Then again, having the information could help him decide which of his friends would be the perfect guy for Nonna to harass into asking Isabella out on a date. He’d have to pick one who wasn’t afraid of commitment. Someone not prone to breaking the heart of the crying girl Chandler had once upon a time stumbled upon while at a hotel for a wedding reception.

Isabella had been so fascinating running from her prom, it hadn’t even occurred to him to not do everything in his power to help her. He’d been standing in the doorway of the ballroom where her prom was being held, surveying the energy of high school seniors determined to make it a night for the memory books. A night they’d recall at all their class reunions to come. In the distance, he’d watched a girl in black be crowned and had seen a group of girls immediately surround her once she’d left the stage. Then he’d lost track of her. That was until he’d heard a cry of distress, and she had come running toward the entry and plowed straight into him, a group of prettily dressed young ladies pointing at her and laughing.

Calling Nonna had been pure instinct. He’d done it as soon as he’d watched Isabella hurry into the restroom, and no one had followed to check on her.

Even after he had left her in Nonna’s capable care, he’d not forgotten about her. On more than one occasion, he’d tried to pry an update out of Nonna, but she was nothing if not discreet regarding the Fairy Godmother Project. His curiosity was probably why she’d gotten the sense he and Isabella were connected.

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