They had Jennifer send the red dress to her hotel and left the boutique for a restaurant.
The snow from the day before had been shoveled away, but steam rose from the grates in the sidewalk, mixing with the frigid air and swirling toward street vendors who stood huddled by food carts.
“Where do you want to eat?”
She pointed at one of the carts. “A hot dog would be fine.”
“No. Dean said to get you a proper meal.”
Kristen laughed. “He’s probably the bossiest guy I’ve ever met.”
Stella snorted. “You don’t know the half of it.” She pointed at the door of an Italian restaurant. “Do you like Italian?”
“Everybody likes Italian.”
“Great.” They took the three steps down into the lower-level restaurant and found there was no wait.
Seated at the round table, holding her menu, Stella said, “So you’re okay with another date?”
“Are you asking for Dean or are you curious?”
Stella leaned forward. “Dean sounded as if he believed you were perfectly happy with tonight’s dinner. That’s what makes me curious.”
“The dinner is actually for me. Mrs. Flannigan wants to talk about my charity.”
Stella peered over her menu. “Well, good, then. Dean’s a difficult man even for pretend dates. I’m glad to see you’re getting something out of this deal.”
“You mean aside from a gown, two dresses, a sweater, jeans, boots, a black coat and two pairs of black heels.” She paused, then cursed. “Damn it! He still hasn’t taken back that bracelet.”
Stella laughed. “Lighten up. To Dean that’s not even pocket change.”
The waiter, a short Italian man who must have come directly from Italy because he spoke with a wonderful accent, took their orders.
As he scampered away, Kristen refused to let the subject of the bracelet die. “I’ve got to get that bracelet back to him.”
Stella leaned forward again. “Why do you care? The man’s a surly bastard. He fires employees and drops lovers like the rest of us change shoes. The only person he really talks to is Jason.”
“He talks to me.”
Stella gasped. “Oh.” She considered that for a second, then gasped again. “Oh, no! I think I see what’s going on here.” She shook her head fiercely. “Sweetie, do not let that man get his hooks into you. You are too nice of a girl. And if you really want to start that charity you told me about the other day, you can’t have your reputation sullied by having dated Dean.”
Annoyed, Kristen said, “First of all, he’s not that bad. From what I saw at the Christmas party and our lunch with his friends, he talks when he has something to say. At yesterday’s lunch he was a virtual chatty Cathy. Second, dating one guy isn’t going to ruin my business reputation.”
Stella put her elbow on the table and rested her head on her closed fist. “Okay, I take the reputation thing back. And change it to the reality that he could ruin you with a broken heart. He is as hard-nosed as a businessman gets. Do not let a few nights out fool you into thinking he’s nice or he likes you.”
Fiddling with her napkin, Kristen said, “I’m not that stupid.” But she’d wanted him to kiss her the night before. Really wanted it. And from everything Stella was saying, she didn’t know him. She had been dealing with a guy who was at first grouchy, then standoffish, then nicer and nicer, more open, willing to take a risk ice-skating. A guy who was either growing comfortable with her or changing...or something.
The picture of Dean, sitting in the limo beside her, saying, Maybe you bring out the best in me, popped into her head.
What if she did bring out the best in him?
But what if she didn’t? What if he really was a snarky guy who needed her, so he was acting the way he had to, to keep her here in New York, available for appearances at his beck and call?
Oh, that made so much more sense than to think a farm girl from Grennady could tame the New York City genius superstar.
* * *
When Dean came to Kristen’s hotel room to pick her up at seven, she was ready to go. Wearing a red lace dress, with her yellow hair swirling around her in big, loose curls, she looked amazing.