Page 9 of And Then Came You

My anger flares at the mention of Carl. I’ve become very protective of this woman, and I’m not entirely sure of the reason. “Why would you even consider taking him back after that?”

“I don’t know, Sam. He spouted a good line, and I fell for it. Plus, I had to get tested for STDs, and that’s always a good time. Worst part? We haven’t had sex in two months, but who the hell knows how many women he slept with during our relationship. There was a ton weighing on my mind.”

“Not anymore.”

“Quite right, and it’s all thanks to you. What’s your story? Do you have a girlfriend?”

I tongue my lip ring, uncertain how to answer the question. Honestly, at least. “There’s this woman I’ve dated for the past few months. She’s a model based out of Milan.”

“Don’t sound too excited.”

“She’s hot as hell.”

Lexi groans, smacking her forehead. “Don’t do that. You chided me about judging a person based on their exterior, then you go and do it.”

The woman is accurate in her observation, but there really isn’t much more to Sveta. She’s a gorgeous woman, born in Russia and raised in Italy, with the ability to steal the spotlight of any room she waltzes into. But it’s not because she’s a talented orator.

Well… her mouth is talented in other ways.

Yes, I’m being shallow and vapid and all the things I hate, but Sveta is content with her lot in life. She’s paid tons of money to primp about in the latest fashion. She has men drooling after her, plying her with jewelry and luxury villas. I’m just her current flavor, and I’m not sure which of us will tire of the other one first.

Actually, I’m already tired of her.

“I don’t want to talk about Sveta.” That’s as much as I’ll concede, and thankfully, Lexi takes the hint.

“Fine,” she huffs, before giggling. “Since I know neither of us wants to discuss Carl, how about we talk about this amazing architecture?” She points up at the Flatiron, tilting her head back to take in the building. “I love to imagine the world when these buildings were new. The stories held within their walls. The tales they would tell.”

“You remind me of my grandfather.”

Her eyes widen behind her tortoiseshell frames as she plants her hands on her hips. “That may be the strangest comparison I’ve ever heard. I don’t look like him, do I?”

I chuckle at her feigned horror. “No, although you’re about the same height.”

“I’ll feel like a giant then.”

God, there is something about this woman. For the first time in my life, I feel seen. At ease. No need to perform. “Actually, he was taller than me, and I’m 6’3”, but time and brittle bones have shrunk him down.”

“How do I remind you of him?”

“Your exuberance with all the things around you. He uttered almost the same words about this very building.”

“Whew,” Lexi exclaims, wiping her brow. “For a minute, I worried I did resemble him. Do you see him often?”

“Not enough. My grandfather helped my mother raise me when my father ran off.”

“It’s your mother’s father?”

“No. My father’s father, believe it or not. He knew his son was a bastard for leaving, and he was going to ensure I had a happy childhood. I grew up on a farm in Woodstock.”

“A native New Yorker.”

“I am, although I live in London now.”

“How do you like it?”

“I like it,” I concede, “but I miss home. I miss my family.”

“Does your grandfather still own the farm?”

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