going to try to talk to her anyway.”
He thrust his fingers in his hair. “Which will only set him back. Leaving him loose may be the best strategy at this point. Our strategy is to talk to her tomorrow, when she’s clear headed.”
Maybe he was right. “What should we do?”
He linked his arm to hers. “We enjoy the party.”
“Alice! Where did you find this dress?” Cassandra, who wanted to buy a couple vintage pieces from Viola’s extensive jewelry collection, asked. “It’s divine!”
Alice let go of Lorenzo’s arm. God. Was she supposed to say she didn’t find one in her size? “It’s a collaboration. Dolce & Gabbana & Sommers.”
Cassandra threw her head back and let out a laugh. “Nice work, darling. You watch out for this one, Lorenzo.” Cassandra, who obviously had had one too many drinks, nudged his elbow.
“That’s what I’ve been doing,” he answered, but he contemplated Alice in such a way it pierced right through her skin and squeezed the air from her lungs.
Oh God. What the hell was she doing? All of this mess would end in less than twenty-four hours. There was so much she wanted to do, to say—
And she’d never get the chance. Not if she knew what was good for her.
She tried to trap Joshua into a relationship he wasn’t ready for. And he had never been married and had no kids. Changing Lorenzo’s stubborn ways would be a task not even a team of Freud-trained shrinks could master. Nope. The man was a sexy stick-in-the-filthy-mud.
Besides, did she really want the false hope of him being genuinely interested in her? Beyond the sexual attraction and her nanny skills? What good would that do?
“Alice,” he called, his rich voice yanking her from her thoughts. She realized Cassandra had moved on to talking to someone else.
“Yes?” She blinked. The salon exuded a completely different atmosphere than the previous night. Several shades of red colored the accents in the area, from the lush table linens to the heavy drapes and the candles. She breathed in the scent of spiced apple and sighed. “This is beautiful.” Like Valentine’s Day on acid.
Lorenzo rested his hand on the small of her back, his warmth seeping through the fabric. “You know, Cassandra wasn’t the only woman to compliment your dress tonight. You did a great job.”
She shrugged. “Thanks.”
A waitress came their way with a golden tray filled with flutes containing a sparkly red liquid. While Lorenzo shook his head, she accepted one of them. No matter what he had said about working things out the next day, her nerves were still on high alert.
“Have you ever considered studying fashion, or trying for an internship or something?”
She lifted the drink to her lips and marveled at the fancy booze coating her throat. A spiked cherry lemonade. Tangy and fruity, with a dry finish. “I had to quit college to help out at home.”
He stretched to his full height, taking his hands off her. “Is this how the rest of your life will play out? You always putting your family first?”
“Why does it matter to you? You’ll be packing up to leave.”
“You should do the same. Alice, New York is the mother of fashion. I’m not a stylist, but I know a lot of influential people with contacts.”
“How can you encourage me to move to New York City to be your nanny and try a completely different career at the same time?” Something didn’t add up. Why did he act like she mattered so much to him at times—like her life and her future also mattered—then remind her with capital letters that she was just the nanny?
“It may take a while for you to get acquainted with the industry. You can study and hone your craft while Cara is in school. By the time you land yourself a job in the city, we’ll be better settled. And Cara will be at school, with friends, more adapted. It will be easier for her to say good-bye to you.”
How thoughtful. He would move her all the way to New York City to get Cara settled, and then say good-bye. How about for her? How hard would it be for her? “You tell me my family runs my life, but aren’t you trying to do just the same?”
“This is different. A win-win.”
Her purse buzzed. She retrieved her cell and found eight missed calls from Mom, and two from Georgia. She listened to the voicemail, a strange sensation in her gut spreading acid in her stomach.