A Millionaire for Cinderella(19)

“I’m not?” Impossible. She’d spent years cultivating her stone face. She knew how to block out the audience with the best of them.

However, she had been off her game since Stuart moved in. Did that mean he knew how badly she’d been struggling to keep her attraction at arm’s length?

Luckily, Stuart couldn’t see her face or he’d really be able to read her feelings. The overheated cheeks were a dead giveaway.

“How else do you think I figured out you were keeping secrets? Your eyes gave you away. They always do,” he said. “I see it all the time in depositions. Body language is a killer. Although in this case...you weren’t exactly hiding your enthusiasm.”

“I did gush a little, didn’t I?”

“A little?” Patience didn’t have to be a body language expert to read the amusement on his face.

“Okay, a lot,” she conceded. “That didn’t mean you had to buy the place. I don’t think I could be that impulsive.” She had trouble buying anything on a whim. What if you needed the cash later on?

“I told you, I had already decided—”

“Before we got there. I know what you said, but this afternoon was still the first time you saw the place. That, to me, is impulsive. How do you know you got the best place?”

He shrugged. “It’s just a condominum.”

“Just?” His comment made it sound as if he was settling, and while Patience wasn’t expecting him to gush about the place like her, she had expected him to at least care about where he lived.

“I work seventy to eighty hours a week,” he explained. “I’m hardly ever home. As long as the place is close to my office and can fit a bed, that’s all I care about.”

So he was settling. Patience wasn’t sure what saddened her more: that or how little he had in his life. Something Karl Tischel said at the dinner dance popped into her head. The one whose girlfriend dumped him. Was work the reason? Or did he work because he’d been dumped? Either way, his life sounded lonely. Correction. He sounded lonely, Patience realized.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t hide her emotions.

Even so, she shouldn’t want to reach out and comfort him the way she did. Certainly not after watching him spend a million dollars without blinking an eye. What more proof did she need that they were from different worlds?

And yet his loneliness spoke to a place deep inside her, making her feel closer to him than ever.

“What’s with the take-out bag?” In Stuart’s hand was a large white paper bag with handles. On the way home, he’d insisted they stop at the local market. He made her wait outside while he went in, only to return a few minutes later with a bag of food. Patience had been curious then, and she was doubly curious now. She leaped on the topic as the perfect change of conversation.

“Dinner,” he replied. “I seem to recall promising you a picnic and fireworks.”

“Yes, you did. The best seats in Boston, you said.”

“Trust me, they are.”

Nigel sauntered into the kitchen and crouched by his empty food dish, waiting for Patience to fill it. The minute Patience crossed his path, he began weaving around and between her legs. “You’re lucky we aren’t on the stairs,” she told him.

“Don’t you mean you’re lucky?” Stuart replied. “As far as I can tell, Nigel isn’t the one who gets hurt.”

“True.” Patience thought of the photographs they’d found yesterday. Ana had once said Nigel had a “Nigel personality.” If the original was as pesky as his namesake, that might explain why he wasn’t around anymore.

Behind her, Stuart was unpacking the tote bag. She saw containers loaded with potato salad, fried chicken, fruit and chocolate cake—enough to feed a full army. “So where is this awesome picnic spot?” she asked. “Near the Boston Esplanade?”

“Nope. The roof.”

“Ana’s roof?”

“Sure. That’s why the humane society insists she throw the summer barbeques here. You won’t find a better view, not even on the Esplanade.”

He pointed to the utility closet in the corner of the kitchen. “Is the portable radio still on the shelf?”

“I think so.”

“Great. Grab it and a couple of glasses, will you? I’ll go set up the table.”

The rooftop deck had been something of a marvel to Patience. Before her accident, Ana had ocassionally taken afternoon tea up there. In Patience’s old neighborhood, a deck meant a place to keep a couple plastic chairs or small table for eating outside, but Ana’s deck was an outside living room. No plastic chairs or cheap furniture here. Instead, there was a love seat and matching chairs. Floor lamps, too. Four of them, one in each corner so as to light the entire space once the sun went down. Potted evergreens and other plants brought nature into the arrangement while a pair of heaters added warmth in the colder weather.

One of her first major housekeeping projects had been to bring the cushions indoors and cover the furniture. Then, as she did now, she found herself in awe that such a beautiful room could exist outdoors.

It was a perfect summer night, made for sitting under the stars. A three-quarter moon hung high and yellow in the cloudless sky. Before them a mosaic of rooftops and lights spread as far as the eye could see. The beacon atop old John Hancock Tower glowed blue, telegraphing the beautiful weather to anyone who needed reminding.

Stuart was opening a bottle of wine when she arrived. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked her. “If you’d rather, there’s water...”

“No, wine would be great.” Even if it did make the atmosphere feel more date-like. “After all, it’s a holiday right?”

“Right. What’s Independence Day without a toast to freedom?”

Walking over to the edge of the deck, Patience looked out across the city. “I can see your apartment building from here, I think. Over there.” She pointed to a tower in the distance. “I can’t remember if I could see Ana’s roof from the terrace or not.”

“We’ll have to stand outside and wave to each other someday to find out.” He appeared at her elbow, carrying a glass of wine in each hand. Handing her one, he raised the other. “To freedom.”

Patience gave a slight smile as she raised hers in return. “One of us achieved freedom today. How long before you move?”

“The end of the month, I think. I want to make sure Ana’s mobile enough before I go, so as to not put all the burden on you.”

“That’s sweet of you.”

“I want to.” Perhaps, but Patience didn’t harbor any illusions. He was looking out for Ana because he loved his aunt, not her.

Not that love had anything to do with anything.

“Did I say something wrong?”

And here she thought staring at her glass would keep her eyes from giving her away. “Just thinking a month wasn’t that far away. Ana will be sorry to see you go.”

“Ana?” He moved in tighter, giving her little choice but to turn and meet his gaze. Questions hung in the back of their blue depths. He knew she meant both her and Ana, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it.

“Don’t be silly. You know she adores you. It has to be killing her to be in the hospital while you’re here in the brownstone.”

“It’s killing me,” he replied. “Seeing her laid up reminds me of how old she’s getting. And how frail.”

“Part of me wants to think she’ll be here forever,” he added, contemplating the contents of his glass.

Patience could feel the regret pressing down on his shoulders and rushed to reassure him. “We always want to think that the people we love will stay forever. I’m as guilty as you are. I want to believe Piper will be part of my world forever, but someday she’s going to have a life of her own. It’s already started.”

“You make it sound like she’ll forget you exist.”

“Forget no, but she’ll have other priorities beyond her big sister.” The way it was supposed to be. She hadn’t sacrificed in order for Piper to stay by her side.

“Maybe you’ll be too busy having a life of your own to notice.”

Doing what? Cleaning? “Oh, I’ll have a life, but I want more for Piper. I want her to have everything. Love, family, a home.”

“Who says you won’t have those things, too?”

She’d love to have them, but they seemed too far out of reach. Easier to wish happiness for Piper. “Maybe someday,” she said, speaking into her wine. “At the moment, I’m happy where I am. Working for Ana.”

“You know you deserve more, right?” His fingers caught her chin and turned her face toward him. “Right?” he repeated.

Patience wanted to tell him to stop being so kind. Things were easier when he’d been suspicious. At least then she knew the dividing line. Attraction bad, distance good. When he was sweet and tender like this, the line blurred. She could feel the cracks in her invisible wall growing bigger. Pretty soon there would be no wall at all to protect her.

But she couldn’t tell him any of that—not without admitting his growing hold over her. “Maybe someday,” she repeated with a smile. Stepping away from his touch, she looked to the Esplanade, the long expanse of green lining the Charles River. “You’re right, this is the best picnic spot. You can see the Hatch Shell,” she said, jumping once again to a safe topic. The area around the open-air stage glowed white from all the spotlights and television trucks. “I swear I can hear the music.”