Cat nodded, fighting to sustain an air of indifference.
One corner of Hank’s mouth curled upward.
He can see right through me.
He cocked his head to the left as he spoke softly. “I have plans, but not with Amy.”
His evasive reply piqued Cat’s curiosity, but she resisted pressuring him further. Maybe because the shallow dimple in his left cheek distracted her. But more likely because he seemed to read her too easily.
If she planned to get involved in a business relationship with Hank, she had to rid herself of these schoolgirl feelings, or learn to manage them better. When she’d said she needed a new challenge, she hadn’t imagined this being one of them.
Five excruciatingly awkward minutes later, they entered her building and nearly ran into Esther, who was struggling out of the mail room with the aid of her walker.
“Hi, Esther!” Cat waved. “Need help?”
“Cat, dear. Don’t you look lovely!” Esther’s New York accent inflected her warble. Her posture straightened a bit when she caught sight of Hank. Flashing a grin too coy for a woman her age—a grin that added several creases to her wrinkled face—she asked, “Who’s this handsome young man?”
“Oh, this is Hank.” Cat stepped aside. “Hank, this is Esther Morganstein, my neighbor and friend.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Hank shook her hand and used the opportunity to relieve her of her mail. “Let me carry these for you.”
“Thank you.” Esther smiled. Cat could’ve sworn Esther purred. As the threesome gradually made their way toward the elevator, Esther turned to Hank. “You look like a nice young man. Be sure to treat my Cat with respect.”
“Of course—” Hank began, but Cat interrupted him.
“Esther, Hank and I aren’t dating. He works for my brother. He’s just here to help me sort out my storage problems.”
“Oh, honey, I told you the solution. You have too many things. Get rid of half and you’ll still have too much.” Esther’s fragile chuckle made Hank grin. Cat had to admit he looked damned handsome wearing a grin. Esther pointed a bony finger at Hank. “You’ll see. Too many things!”
“I’m sure yours is the easiest and most practical solution, Mrs. Morganstein.” Hank cocked his head, eyes twinkling, as he continued. “But she likes having lots of options. One never knows what the weather will be like, or what kind of mood she might be in from minute to minute.”
Cat dipped her chin and narrowed her eyes, remembering having uttered that exact rationale to defend the many suitcases she’d brought to Block Island.
“Hmph. I think you’re secretly jealous of my fashion sense.” She let her eyes deliberately graze the length of him. As usual, he wore a fitted, collarless, cotton T-shirt that hugged each sinewy muscle in his chest and shoulders. Low-slung cargo shorts showed off his trim waist and narrow hips. His orange-and-tan Merrell sandals were practical, if unattractive. They say clothes make the man, but in his case, it simply wasn’t true. Not that she’d let him know it. “Clearly, you need pointers, Hank,” she said with a grin.
“Touché,” he replied, while winking at Esther. Cat noticed his comfortable familiarity with the old lady. He seemed relaxed and at ease in a situation most men might find awkward at best.
They followed Esther to her door, where Hank handed her the mail.
“Don’t forget to call me with your grocery list, Esther,” Cat reminded her. “I’ll be by tomorrow around two o’clock.”
“Thank you, dear.” Esther turned to Hank with a flirtatious look in her eyes. “I hope this isn’t the last time I’ll be seeing you.” Esther waved her bony hand at Cat’s shocked expression. “Well, I’m old, but I’m not blind!”
Hank chuckled aloud as Esther closed her door. Looking at him standing there—a green-eyed, golden-haired hunk of testosterone—Cat couldn’t blame Esther for her reaction. Cat wasn’t blind, either.
Mom,
It’s strange to consider how much David and Vivi’s lives (and mine) have changed in just two weeks. They’re married, embarking on a sparkly new life together—maybe considering starting a family. Then there’s me, facing a childless future and fading career.
When I’ve felt blue, I’ve relived parts of the wedding weekend—the flowers, Vivi’s constant smile, David’s tender glances, Dad’s toast, and Hank playing my hero (if somewhat reluctantly). I’m grateful he whisked me away from those jerks, and that he refused to take advantage of my drunkenness (although maybe I could have forgiven him for taking a little advantage, if you know what I mean).