Page 24 of The Awakening of Nina Fontaine

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She was still thinkingabout him when she let herself into the lobby of her building after work. She’d spent the afternoon working her way through the organizational tasks Edmonia had left for her while replaying her conversation withLiam.

She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. Did he think she was a cougar? If so, he was going to be sorely disappointed. She wasn’t exactly inexperienced, but after so many years married to Peter, she had all the sexual prowess of akitten.

On the other hand, dinner didn’t necessarily mean a date. It was possible he just wanted to be friends, a possibility she finally accepted as the most likely scenario, if only to keep from making herselfcrazy.

“Fontaine!”

Nina turned around to see Salvatore, the building’s superintendent, staring at her from the door of his ground floorapartment.

“Hi,Sal.”

“Don’t ‘hi, Sal’ me,” he said. “Just tell me this isn’t going to be ahabit.”

She turned around to make sure she’d shut the front door behind her. “Did I do somethingwrong?”

“It’s not against the rules,” he said, “but I”m not always gonna be around to take delivery like your personal valet, you know what Imean?”

The last five words rantogether.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t order anypackages.”

“Tell that to the three giant boxes sitting in my living room,doll.”

She moved toward him. “There must be some kind ofmistake.”

“Mistake or not, you want to get them out of my living room before Mister Twinkle pisses onthem.”

Mister Twinkle was Sal’s terrier, a tiny thing with a gray beard and a bark that could curdlemilk.

She followed Sal into his apartment and tried to make nice with the dog while he yipped at Nina’sheels.

Sal’s apartment was laid out the same as Nina’s, but that was where the resemblance ended. Where Nina’s place was still spare, more like a hotel than a home, Sal’s was packed full of old furniture, books stacked on every surface. Piles of newspapers stood next to the sofa, and yellowing doilies sat under the fringed table lamps flanking thecouch.

The place smelled like burnt coffee, bacon, and something astringent that might have beenvinegar.

“Mister Twinkle! Hush, now!” Sal half-heartedly scolded the dog as he moved around behind thecouch.

He lifted a giant box over the back and set it on the sofa cushions. “This isone.”

Nina shook her head. “There must be some kind of mistake. I didn’t orderthis.”

“Well, there’s two more where this one camefrom.”

He lifted two more boxes onto the couch where they joined the first one, three cardboard soldiers standing at least four feet tall and three feetwide.

Nina stepped around a wing chair that was too big for the room, then worked her way around a glass coffee table piled high with oldmagazines.

Now that the boxes were right in front of her, she realized they weren’t standard shipping boxes. One was black with whitelettering.

Dolce andGabbana.

Whatthe…?

She leaned into the second box, glossy red, the initials CH emblazoned on thefront.

The third box was a pearly taupe, the words Jason Wu printed on the front in a shimmery palepink.

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