Page 29 of An Heir For Her Enemy

“How fun.”

“Not really. As you know, events like that aren’t my cup of tea…”

“But you need to fit in so that people will trust you with their money,” Delaney finished.

“Exactly.” Logan pointed at her. “Hey, you should come.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d fit in with that crowd.”

“Maybe not, but I’ll have a few nice pieces, and it could be a good way for you to look for investors for your gallery.”

“I don’t need investors right now. I’ll already have the money I need to get started.”

“You always need investors.” Logan took a sip of wine. “You don’t have to come, but promise you’ll think about it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

The waiter arrived with the next course, a plate of spaghetti with fresh seafood, and took away their plates of watermelon salad. Delaney and Logan thanked him in Italian, Logan speaking confidently and Delaney blushing her way through.

The rest of dinner passed easily in a blur of delicious food and good conversation. Delaney was reminded of the first night they met, when everything had felt so easy, before so many things got between them.

After a delicious dessert of pastries so delicate they looked more like art than food, Logan insisted on paying the bill and they left the restaurant.

“Shall we walk a little, or do you want to get back?” Logan asked.

“Let’s walk.” The air was cool but fresh, and it was a welcome change after the warm restaurant. Plus, Delaney wasn’t quite ready for the evening to end.

They strolled along the sidewalk, admiring historic buildings and discussing the trip.

“It feels a little strange that we’ll be going back home tomorrow,” Delaney mused. “It’s been so nice seeing some of Rome.”

“It has. Hey, we should celebrate after the authentication tomorrow.” Logan nudged her with his shoulder, just as he’d done that first night.

“What if the painting isn’t authentic?”

“Well, whether it’s a Botticelli or not, we can celebrate a nice trip together and being on good terms again.” Logan glanced down at Delaney, who was very aware of how closely together they were walking. “Even though a relationship isn’t on the cards for us, I would very much like us to be friends.”

Friends. Delaney wasn’t sure she could be friends with a man who both annoyed her and made her smile, who thought about things in such a unique way and who believed in her, but who also thought art should be used as a stepping stone on the path to wealth and success. A man who made her heart race and her knees weak. A man whose kiss was burned into her memory indelibly.

“I’d like that,” she said.

“Good. So, how should we celebrate?”

“More pizza,” Delaney suggested. “I think we need to take advantage of all the pizza we can eat here.”

“What, you don’t like New York pizza?” Logan winked and Delaney laughed.

“Of course, New York pizza is amazing, but it’s nothing like the pizza here. It’s like comparing… I don’t know, homemade cookies with store-bought ones.”

Logan chuckled now. “I don’t think I want to know how New York pizza fares in that comparison.”

“As a New Yorker, you probably already know.” Delaney nudged him playfully with her shoulder.

“I do. I remember when I first came to New York. I was staying in a little room in a boarding house, and the very first thing I saw when I arrived was a rat running by on the street outside. And not a little rat. This must have been the size of a small dog.”

“Oh, I know the rats well. There used to be one that lived near my first place, which was a room in a shared apartment in Brooklyn. I saw it so often that I named it George the Rat.”

“How did you know it was the same one?”

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