Page 13 of Eye Candy

Then his eyes lowered to my lips, which suddenly felt too dry.

Self-consciously, no Summer-shtick whatsoever, I licked them.

His lids lowered, like he couldn’t help but track the movement even though he wasn’t interested in it. In me. But at least he was looking at me now. Maybe?—

His hands fell to his sides. “I should go.”

I wanted to tell him that the snorer wasn’t my one-night stand, but an elderly neighbor I’d never met. But then I’d have to explain a lot more than that, which was impossible.

Minnie’s snores echoed through the apartment as I followed him to the door.

Chase stopped in the door, one hand on the frame. “On Saturday, Greta Winters is holding an event at Lueur for her birthday. You remember Greta?”

I made a noncommittal noise.

“You’ll come?”

I thought on my feet. “I haven’t seen Greta in years. She never liked me very much.”

An educated guess.

“True. But time has passed. I’m sure she’ll be happy for me to extend an invite on her behalf.”

“As your date?”

He blinked. “No. I’ll bring a date.”

“Oh. Right.”

He was still looking at me expectantly.

“Sure, I’ll be there.” I lied.

‘Teddy’ would disappear into the mist after tonight. My work was done. But I couldn’t tell him that.

He nodded, and with a tight smile, left.

The door slid shut and only the snoring elderly woman and I remained. I let a long breath out through my lips and started picking up the chess set, thinking.

I’d known Chase Sanford for only a few hours, and he didn’t even know my real name, but for one fleeting moment, when he thought a chandelier was going to make a pancake of me, I’d experienced the unique pleasure of his embrace. It hadn’t been a cursory hug, like friends gave each other in greeting, or even a congratulatory hug, like after a show. Chase had held me like I was special, precious.

Not Summer, not Teddy.

Me.

CHAPTER 7

CAROLINE

The next dayGerard finally called and I relayed my success at the gallery.

“See, Kiwi? I told you it would be easy,” he said smugly.

I rolled my eyes. Easy forhim.

It was mid-afternoon on a sunny weekday, and I was sitting on a bench in Washington Square Park with a fistful of fresh peonies. As I’d waved my card at the bodega to pay for them and the bag of flour Lyssa needed for something she was filming, it felt like spinning a roulette wheel to see if the transaction would clear. It did, so I was in an excellent mood. I refused to let financial fear obsess me more than was absolutely necessary—showgirls didn’t do anything so gauche as worry! They held their course.

That was my NGU gene again.

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