Page 32 of A Millionaire for Cinderella

“She must be devastated to have to cancel.”

“Not as much as you’d think. Last I heard, Ethyl was moving the event to the rehab hospital.”

Patience envisioned Ana, Ethyl and the others invading the rehab terrace with their catered dinner and cocktails. “Maybe I should be devastated on behalf of the hospital.”

“Don’t be. I’m sure there’s a donation involved.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was the longest and closest they’d been together since the dance. Patience studied the hands clasped between his legs. All too clear was the memory of those hands holding her close. Fingers burning a hole in the fabric of her dress. She turned back to the underwear drawer.

“Sorry I haven’t been around much lately. Work has been slamming,” he said.

Even the weekends? “You don’t have to explain your schedule to me.” Or make excuses, for that matter.

“I know, but...” The mattress made a settling noise, and she imagined him shrugging. “But I didn’t want you to think that after the other night, I was...well, you know.”

“Yeah.” She knew. She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she knew.

“Anyway, I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow.”

Patience’s stomach dropped. He was going to tell her he was hosting some kind of event himself, wasn’t he? If she wanted a distance reminder, being asked to wait on his friends would certainly fit the bill. “It’s a normal paid day off,” she told him, “but if you are planning something...”

“Actually, I was wondering if you would mind checking out a condominium with me.”

“What?”

“You know the new luxury tower they built near the Leather District? One of our clients is the developer. Sounds like a pretty awesome property.”

“I’m sure it is.” Weren’t most million-dollar properties? Patience tried to ignore the pang in her chest. From the very start, Stuart had said this living arrangement was temporary. Now that Ana was close to being discharged, there was no reason for him not to look for a place of his own. What did the decision have to do with her, though?

“I was hoping you’d check out the property with me. Give me your opinion.”

“The housekeeper’s point of view?”

He grinned. “I was thinking more of a female point of view, but if you want to weigh in on how difficult the place will be to keep clean, feel free. Don’t feel like you have to though. I know it’s your day off, but if you do say yes, I’d make it worth your while.”

“Worth my while, eh?” Talk about loaded language. She shivered at the potential prospects. “How?”

“I will personally show you the best seat in all of Boston for watching the fireworks.”

Patience chewed the inside of her mouth. Goodness, but it was impossible to say no. Especially when the idea of sitting with him beneath the stars was so seductive.

“Sure.” There’d be plenty of time to kick herself for the decision later. “What time?”

“After lunch. I figured we’d go see Ana, then meet up with Nikko. He’s the developer.”

“It’s a—plan.” She almost slipped and called it a date. Luckily she caught herself at the last moment.

What she should have been trying to catch was Nigel. Tired of being ignored, he leaped from the bed to the bureau. Problem was, he miscalculated the distance. His front paws connected with the box she’d set on the bureau, flipping it end over end. Off flew the cover, sending the contents flying.

“Bad kitty,” she said. The admonishment was useless since Nigel had already bolted from the room in embarrassment.

“Here, let me help you.” Stuart crouched by her on the floor, his unique Stuart scent filling the space between them. Patience had to struggle not to close her eyes and inhale. “The box was in Ana’s drawer,” she explained. “Nigel started chewing the cover so I moved it to the bureau.” To keep it out of his reach. So much for that idea.

“Looks like a bunch of photographs.”

Mementos was more like it. Patience spied newspaper clippings, tickets, playbills, what looked like drawings scribbled on napkins. Piper had kept a similar box when she was a kid.

She picked up one of the newspaper clippings. The article was written in a foreign language.

“French,” Stuart said when she showed him.

“Don’t suppose you can read it?”

“Sorry. Russian.”

And she’d barely made it through Spanish. “This is where we need Piper.”

The date said it was from the early fifties. Ana would have been just out of high school. Patience couldn’t help wondering what had made her hold on to the article. The photo accompanying the article featured a trio of men standing together in front of a painting. Nothing very exciting. She was about to put the clipping in the box when one of the names jumped from the page.

---