This was not being overly pervy. He had a task to do. That was all. He grinned again, without apology.
"I feel like I'm trying too hard. It's not too much?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her waist as if trying to hide from inspection.
The dress was actually conservative by many women's standards. Even though it clung to her body, it wasn't overly tight, or too short, hitting just at her knees, and the neckline stopped in a V that revealed an enticing amount of skin, but no real cleavage.
"I think this is exactly what you need. It's classy but also sexy. And Dr. Seeley won't know what hit him. I promise. Now I think all we need is a few pairs of nice, tailored slacks that you can wear at the office and maybe a pair of shoes that don't say, ‘geriatric grandma,' and you'll be set."
A little over an hour later, Benny had just paid for her clothes when Ella pulled on Henry's arm. "I'm hungry. Can we stop at the place with the funny hats and get corn dogs?"
It was about that time, he supposed. Henry, however, hadn't had a corn dog in God knew how many years, and he wasn't sure he wanted to break that record just yet. "We definitely should eat. But is a corn dog really what you want? The Cheesecake Factory is right around the corner and-"
Ella scrunched up her pert nose. "It always stinks in there, and it takes forever to get our food. Please, Uncle Henry? I just want a corn dog." The kid's voice had taken on a high, whiny tone that was drawing a few heads turned their way.
Benny took the receipt and dropped it in the bag. "Seriously? Are corn dogs beneath Henry Ellison? Ella, for being such a good sport, how about I take you to the food court and buy us each a corn dog while your uncle goes and waits for a table for one at the restaurant."
"Yes!" the little girl shouted. "And can I have an Orange Julius, too?"
"Don't push your luck, Ella," Henry interrupted. "But I can see I've been outvoted. To the food court we go."
Ella apparently knew the way and skipped ahead. Benny followed, dressed in a new pair of jeans and a pretty white blouse with some embroidery along the neckline. He took a moment to appreciate the wider hips and backside she'd been hiding away under bulky cotton fabric before he caught what he was doing and settled on the back of her neck and that darn scruffy ponytail.
Over corn dogs and too-sweet lemonade, Ella chattered away about her excitement at starting school next month and the friend she'd already made. "Will my mom be there my first day?" she asked wistfully and peered up at him.
Benny shot him a curious look but didn't say anything, just sipped from her straw. "I'm sure she'll try her hardest."
"Yeah." But Ella didn't sound like she believed it, the sadness almost heartbreaking. He really needed to have a long-overdue talk with his sister. Soon.
"And if for some reason she can't be, how would you feel if I took you myself?" he offered. "Would that make you feel better?"
She smiled, her baby teeth shining back at him. "Of course, Uncle Henry."
Ah, she could really tug at his emotions. He glanced up to find Benny still sucking her drink through her straw, but this time her eyes as she looked at him were curious and almost soft.
Before he said anything else to embarrass himself, he bit into the greasy corn dog, and looked away.
Benny had been home about two hours, all her new purchases hung or folded nicely and a glass of wine in hand, when someone knocked on her front door.
She glanced down, realizing that for once, the soft fabric of the jeans hadn't bothered her enough to require that she tear them off and slide into her usual pajamas or scrubs, and that she was still in them. And presentable.
"Wow. Can't get enough of me, huh?" she asked when she opened the door to Henry's handsome face. "I'm kind of too beat to go over the fine art of flirting with you tonight."
"It's Ella," he said, and she instantly dropped the teasing and went on alert. "She was only asleep for maybe an hour and woke up screaming. She wants her mom, and no amount of talking with her has calmed her down."
"Have you tried calling her mom?" Benny asked, already pulling the door behind her, making sure it was left unlocked, and followed barefoot down the hall.
"No answer," he said tightly. "Then she wanted you."
How could Benny's heart not twinge just a little at that?
They entered his place, and the first thing she noticed was the soft lighting and Dean Martin playing through the speakers. Then she heard the faint sound of crying. Henry led the way, and she realized as they passed his decked-out kitchen-and she'd thought hers was nice-and two closed bedroom doors that his place was much bigger than she'd thought. Enormous, actually, compared to her one bedroom. Which wasn't surprising if she considered the fact that other than hers, there were no other units on this end of the tenth floor. His took up almost half the floor.
Ellie sat up when she appeared, and Benny barely processed the navy and taupe décor of the room-nice but not particularly homey or comfortable for a child-before rushing to the little girl's side. She gave Ella a big hug before leaning back to tuck some hair away from the girl's damp and flushed face. "Maybe while your uncle gets you a glass of milk, I can tell you a story. Would you like that?"
Ella nodded and clung to Benny's hand before snuggling farther back in bed.
Since Benny's own nieces and nephew had moved back permanently nearly a year ago thanks to their dad skipping out on Daisy, Benny'd had to brush up on her storytelling skills, and after reading one particular book dozens of times-kids really liked repetition-she figured she could probably remember the gist of the tale about the bunny and her first day of school.
By the time Henry returned with the glass of milk, Ella had already nodded off. Holding her finger to her mouth to stop him from speaking and waking his niece up, Benny tucked the covers around Ella's small shoulders and turned off the light. Henry waited outside the door, still holding the glass of milk.
"That's it? You already got her back to sleep?"
"What can I say? I'm good."
She headed back down the hall and into his living room, where another bluesy jazz song was now playing.
"Would you mind sticking around for a few more minutes? Just to be sure she's asleep?"
She imagined that angelic face waking up in terror again and nodded. "Yeah. I guess."
"I'm having a drink. Can I get you something? I have red wine, if that's your preference." He smiled, and she wondered how he knew what she liked when she remembered the open bottle still on her kitchen counter and the glass waiting for her at home that he must have seen.
"Sure."
She took a seat on a leather sofa and brought her bare feet up to tuck underneath her. With the lights dimmed like this, she was able to see the downtown skyline and the city before them. No wonder he was so popular with the ladies. All he needed was to plop himself down in front of that piano and hit a few keys and the women would be tossing their panties at him.
She was dang close herself.
"What's with the piano? Do you actually play?"
He didn't even look at the instrument, just carried the two glasses of wine over. "Not anymore," he said vaguely and handed her a glass before sitting opposite her. "Thanks for your help tonight. I was at my wits' end, and when her mother didn't pick up, I was seriously considering giving her some of the Benadryl packed in her bag just to try and get her back to sleep."
For someone who had apparently been at his wits' end, Henry looked alarmingly suave and sexy, not a hair of that sleek and perfect blond coif out of place. His white linen shirt still crisp, and the way he sat back, so casual but poised reminded her of some commercial for men's cologne.
"It's fine, really. But what's going on with her mother? Anything serious?" She didn't want to be intrusive-maybe the woman was sick and was in the hospital, for all Benny knew-but she was curious for Ella's sake.
Henry shook his head and took a drink of whatever was in his glass, something dark and caramel in color. "No. Other than forgetting what it's like to grow up with an absent mother whose first and only loyalty was to her career, she's just fine."
Huh. Benny didn't really know too much about Henry Ellison other than he was likely worth millions alone because of his family's company, he held late-night parties, and he was pretty good at his job at an ad agency. But it sounded like maybe growing up, his life wasn't as charmed as she'd have thought.
"Before you think you know my life," he interrupted, as if reading her thoughts, "why don't we stick to what we've joined forces to accomplish. Getting you the date with Mr. Right and getting you out of my hair." He took another sip. "What can you tell me about this guy? Other than the fact you can't string together a sentence longer than two words in his presence. It might help us figure out the best way to approach him. Work into his good graces."
She took her own drink, enjoying the heady flavor of the wine that was clearly triple the quality-and price-of her own choice at home. "He went to school in Portland, graduated with top honors, has been working at the practice for six years. Thirty-six years old, and as far as I know, never married. No kids."
"I need more. How about sports? Music? Do you know what team he roots for? Does he prefer the symphony to rock concerts? That sort of thing."