And once they walked outside together, this thing between them would be public. The Travati men were hot commodities, and the number of available brothers was dwindling. Two were taken, and with only two remaining, the single ladies of Manhattan (who was she kidding, the entire world) were on the march to try to snag one of them.
Photographers and gossip pages knew all about this female obsession—a good shot of a single Travati brother attracted eyeballs and sales. Sure, if a picture of her and Leo together went public she could slough it off to the uninformed as her working with him on a charity event. But Aubrey, Shelly, and even Nina wouldn’t buy it. One photo of Leo and her together, followed by a question from any one of them, and Gwen would crumble like a seven-day-old cookie. Nope, she wasn’t a good liar, and not particularly good covering up her feelings and emotions. She’d faked it with Leo, with difficulty, but she doubted she could do it again. She’d pulled it off by using his own desires against him, his own modus operandi, and even then he had figured out her true feelings before she admitted them. She hadn’t been able to hide, even for two weeks, that his idea of a “convenient arrangement” wasn’t her.
“How about we go to my place and I’ll cook for you?” she suggested.
“Real food? Without an oven fire?”
“I can guarantee it.” This seemed a simple solution to a problem she didn’t want to deal with today.
“I like the way you think, Miss Fleming,” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. “I’m going to take Renley for a quick walk, want to come?”
“Hmm, cozy apartment or ten degrees with snow? I’ll wait here.”
“Smart lady. We’ll leave in about twenty minutes, that work?”
“It absolutely does.”
Leo left. The anxiety that had built in Gwen’s chest about the possibility of having to go out in public with Leo dissipated like air from a pinpricked balloon. She pulled on her sweater and jeans and padded toward the living room. Her purse lay beside the couch and she pulled out her phone. A row of text notifications filled her home screen. She scrolled. So many. What the heck was going on? Why so many messages?
Milan, the bridezilla she’d taken on as a favor, was on a rampage. Text after text after text. She’d apparently discovered that the videographer she desired was already booked. Gwen could picture her stomping her foot as she texted her fingers to the bone.
Gwen sighed and texted:
No problem, have worked with a dozen that I love. Will send you ideas with links to their work.
Milan didn’t respond. Gwen wasn’t surprised. She had discovered that often, the more difficult the person, when you presented a solution without getting worked up, they didn’t know what to do with your positive energy. It was almost as if Milan wanted Gwen to flip out with her.
Gwen continued to scroll. Really? Aside from the videography freak-out, Milan had sent thirty texts about flowers. And the wedding wasn’t until June next year? Oops. She almost overlooked a text and a voicemail message from Aubrey. Gwen pressed her number and put the phone to her ear.
“Hello,” Aubrey’s breathing came in quick pants, as though she’d been running.
“Hey, just ringing you back. You okay?”
“Uh, of course, yes. I mean—” Justin laughed in the background. “Fine here.”
Hmm, Aubrey wasn’t supposed to be out of bed. What could she possibly be doing that would leave her breathless… Oh. Oh my.
“Want me to call back?” Gwen offered quickly.
“Uh, no. It’s good. Now is a good time.” Aubrey took a deep breath. “We wondered if you might want to come over and grab dinner tonight. Just getting absolutely stir-crazy, and not even my husband is enough for me right now.”
She heard Justin mumble something in the background.
“Uhm,” Gwen glanced around Leo’s apartment. It was already one o’clock. By the time they made it to her place and she fixed a late lunch—“I’m not sure if—”
“Oh my God.” Aubrey’s voice lowered. “Are you still on your date?”
“Well…”
“You are! You spent the night.”
A smile curled over Gwen’s lips and heat flushed her neck. “We’re actually on the way out to have lunch and—”
“Bring him to dinner.”
Panic quickened through her blood. “Ooo.” Gwen shook her head. “Noooo, I don’t think that’s a good idea. At least not yet. I mean, we’re not quite at the ‘let’s meet your friends’ kind of place.”
“Hmmm,” Aubrey said. “Okay. I get it. Well, if something changes or he has to leave or if you change your mind about introducing him to your pregnant friend, we’ll be here. I think Justin is ordering Chinese tonight. Maybe Mr. Chow.”