He turned to her and breathed in her clean floral scent.
In actual fact this was a speech he never actually had to give—not in so many words. It was always understood that, whilst he might thoroughly enjoy a woman’s company, it would be a mistake for her to start building castles in the sky. The women he dated generally got the unspoken message.
‘Which,’ he continued carefully, ‘isn’t to say that it necessarily means anything.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean...put it this way...you told me that you favoured optimism over realism...’
‘I said I favoured optimism over cynicism. What’s the point in being cynical? How can you ever look forward to what life has to bring if you’re busy seeing everything from a gloomy angle?’
Sergio was temporarily distracted. He thought, in passing, that she had amazing eyes—a curious shade of brown, milk chocolate in colour, and fringed with lush, dark lashes... And the tiny mole on her cheekbone was pretty cute as well.
‘It’s extraordinary that you can face each day brimming over with optimism when you live here...’
‘That an incredibly snobby thing to say.’
‘You’re probably right.’ He flushed darkly. Stanley had said more or less the same thing to him, earlier in the evening.
‘You can come from money and still empathise with people who haven’t got any...’
‘Of course I empathise with people who don’t have money... Not that it’s particularly relevant, but Stanley, my driver, doesn’t come from an exalted background!’ He raked his fingers through his hair and wondered how they had ended up down this blind alley.
‘That’s not empathising—that’s recognising...there’s a difference. Although...’ she relented and met his eyes squarely ‘...it’s pretty cool what you did for him.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘He told me. About you helping him get back on his feet after he’d spent time in prison. He said that he pretty much wouldn’t have known what to do if you hadn’t stepped in and rescued him from himself.’
‘Stanley told you that...? He never talks about his past. For God’s sake—he was supposed to deliver you back to your apartment, not launch into an explanation of his life experiences. I’ll have to have a word with him. Discretion is always—but always—the better part of valour when it comes to the business of being a chauffeur.’
‘Please don’t! People confide in me... I’ll be mortified if you go to him and tell him off for opening up...’
Sergio could scarcely believe that his driver had ‘opened up’. He wasn’t the opening up kind. ‘People confide in you...?’
‘It’s one of the things I do really well. I make people feel comfortable...’ She laughed self-consciously. ‘It’s one of my few talents.’
‘How did we get on to this?’
‘I don’t know. You were telling me... Well, actually, you were telling me that the fact you showed up here doesn’t mean anything.’
She couldn’t bear the thought of hearing him inform her in that dark, bone-melting voice of his that he’d had his fill and it was time to say goodbye. Maybe he would tell her that she was worth every rose he had sunk his money into.
Had he said anything when she had jokingly told him that she’d help stick them in vases at his apartment because he would have to take most of them away? She couldn’t remember. Her brain felt fuzzy, caught up with trying to predict what he was going to say.
‘I know it doesn’t,’ she said lightly, because it seemed a better idea to take the bull by the horns than to wait for it to destroy the shop.
‘It doesn’t. I’m not interested in forging a relationship with you, Susie.’
‘I know. I’m not your type,’ she interjected quickly, before he could really get going on something truly hurtful.
‘Even if you were...’
‘You mean, even if I was one of those high-powered, my-career-is-everything types?’
‘If you want to put it that way... Even if you were one of those, I still wouldn’t be interested in any kind of relationship.’