Love on Lexington Avenue - Lauren Layne Page 0,43

Claire realized that the song had ended. Embarrassed that she hadn’t realized the dance was over, she took the slightest step back, though Scott didn’t release her.

She raised her eyes to his, asking a silent question she was too scared to verbalize out loud. Did you come because you knew I’d be here?

Claire was too scared to ask it—but not too afraid to hope.

Scott’s brown eyes burned into hers, and Claire wondered if she had the courage to step forward, to press her lips to his in front of a hundred people. Wondered if he’d kiss her back, wondered—

“There you are!”

The moment was shattered by an unfamiliar female voice, and Scott’s hand dropped away.

Claire turned, then sucked in a breath when she came face-to-face with one of the more stunning women she’d ever seen in real life. There was little doubt in Claire’s mind that the woman was a model. The wide eyes, full mouth, high cheekbones, and waifish figure were classic supermodel.

“Hello,” the woman said with a friendly smile and a faint accent. “I’m Ivet Orlav.”

Claire recognized the name. Definitely a model. A very famous supermodel.

“Ivet, this is Claire Hayes,” Scott said. “I’m in the process of renovating her house.”

“Oh, you are so lucky!” Ivet said with a beaming smile. “He does the best work. Did he tell you I first met him in Paris when he was hired to consult on some maintenance on the Louvre?”

No, he didn’t, Ivet. There’s a lot he doesn’t mention.

Claire sucked in a quick breath when Ivet reached out and wrapped both skinny arms around Scott’s arm and brushed her lips to the corner of his mouth. “I’m always so thrilled when Scott and I are in the same city at the same time,” Ivet said, flicking a playful finger over Scott’s bow tie. “He always makes the best date to these events.”

Date. Here she was, stupidly wondering if he was here because of her, when all the time he’d brought a date.

It hurt. It hurt, and she didn’t have a clue why.

“Claire,” he said softly.

She held up a palm to stop his words but didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she walked off the dance floor, chin held high.

Chapter Thirteen

SATURDAY, AUGUST 24

There weren’t many venues in Manhattan that had a proper outdoor space, but the American Museum of Natural History was one of them. And even though the late summer night was muggy, and probably wreaking havoc on her hair, Claire was grateful for the space. She needed a moment of solitude to properly chastise herself for thinking, even for a moment, that Scott Turner had been interested in her as a woman.

After all, the extent of his compliment had been, “You look good.” Not beautiful. Not gorgeous. Not you take my breath away.

She’d never taken anyone’s breath away. Even Brayden, in their early dating days, had always told her that what he liked most about her was that she was “easy to be around.” She’d thought it a compliment at the time. Now she wasn’t nearly so sure.

Even more galling than her mistaken assumption that Scott was interested in her romantically was that for a minute, for a silly, irrational minute, she’d wanted him to be. Being in his arms during that dance had been the most right thing she’d felt in a long time, and it had had nothing to do with his startling transformation from gruff contractor into tuxedo-wearing prince of the whole damn gala. It had been him. His reluctant smiles that were all the more rewarding because they were hard-earned. His subtle, wry humor. The way she suspected he felt far more deeply than he ever revealed to the world.

And while she’d been discovering that, he’d been killing time while waiting for his supermodel girlfriend to return from the ladies’ room.

With a huff, she sat on a bench, not particularly caring if she got her boring dress dirty before she went back inside. If she went back inside. What she really wanted was to go home. She’d only come for Audrey’s sake, and now that she knew the night had all been good-intentioned maneuvering by her girlfriends, she didn’t feel the least bit bad about ditching.

“You all right?”

Claire’s head swung around in surprise at the interruption. She’d been prepared for one of her friends to seek her out to check on her, but she was a little surprised to see which friend.

Clarke West slowly closed the distance between them. Looking down at her, he flicked his wrists toward