Tempted in the City (14 page)

They'd even taken a walk by the bay. It had been a great stroll. Nothing better than draping his arm around her shoulders while she slipped her left hand into his back pocket.

She'd found the winery on her cell phone, and they'd decided to stop at the gorgeous old place in Cumberland, Rhode Island. She'd discovered how much she liked their pinot noir, and before he knew it, he was putting a case in the trunk.

Then it was time to hit the interstate again, heading toward one more stop before they returned to Little Italy. Another surprise. One he thought she'd like a lot.

In fact, when he turned into the big ironworks in New Haven, Connecticut, Catherine gripped his arm so hard he thought she might leave bruises. “Iron Works?” she said, her voice starting the question in one pitch, but ending somewhere completely different. “This is the metalworker. Your friend who's going to help with my house.”

Tony nodded. “Dave has a few drawings he wants to show you before he comes down to do the measurements.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out for a minute. “This has been the best surprise trip ever.”

“I don't know about ever, but I think it worked out pretty well.”

“You put so much thought into it. I don't know that anyone's ever tailored a getaway to my tastes so perfectly.”

“It's my pleasure,” he said, meaning every word.

“Are we going to actually order things today, or is this just a fact-finding mission?”

“Well, they're not technically open today, although a few of his guys are working. But I suppose if you wanted to order some things, it would be fine. I told him about your place and sent him pictures. I know he's drawn up a few things so you'll see how we can best match your vision.”

They parked near the entrance to the large building, and Catherine jumped out as soon as Tony turned off the engine.

She was next to him quickly, grabbing his hand with both of hers, but she let go just as fast. “Wait. Am I supposed to be a client and nothing more?”

“You be whatever feels comfortable,” he said, just as his friend, Dave, met them at the door. He was a big man, muscled from his work at the forge. As he shook Catherine's hand, Tony said, “Dave's taken over this business from his father.”

“And grandfather,” Dave said, giving Tony a slap on the back. Thankfully, Tony was used to the greeting. First time he'd been at the receiving end, he'd nearly fallen flat on his face.

“I like your house,” Dave said, turning to Catherine. “My office is upstairs. I'll show you some of my drawings. You tell me what you like, what you're not crazy about. Then I'll take you through the gallery, so you can get a good look at some alternatives, and we'll see what comes of that. You have a camera with you?”

“My cell phone.”

“It'll do fine,” he said, leading them inside.

The space was well ventilated, but it still smelled like fire and something very primal. Tony knew Dave and his crew worked in steel, iron, aluminum and probably other mediums, and it was that primal scent that made him take a deep breath. The clang of a hammer on metal resonated through the whole structure.

She was all eyes and wonder as they climbed up to the office. In minutes they had settled in comfortable chairs around a table, coffee mugs in front of them, with Tony able to watch Catherine's expressive face.

“Look,” she said, beckoning him to lean in to see the drawings for the staircase. Dave had really listened about the art deco style she liked, and what he was showing her blew them both away.

“They're gorgeous. I want them all, but I think I like the idea of the wavy design with the walnut handrail best. God, the twisted balusters are stunning. Although, what you did with this other one with the painted mural...” She ended with a sigh.

“I'll make copies of the drawings, all of them, then when you go back home, you can decide.”

Tony could tell she wanted to be teleported home right that moment. Although he could easily see any of the designs would work well. They went on to look at Dave's designs for the fireplaces, the front stoop and a private exterior spiral staircase up to the roof.

It took them almost two hours to finish with Dave and to load the standing lamp, the wall art and bookends Catherine had purchased into the trunk of the car. Dave seemed a little surprised by her hug at the end. Tony was, too. She wasn't a hugger. But the man had brought the goods.

She slid into the passenger seat, and halfway down the driveway, she made Tony stop the car so she could kiss him. It was all he could do not to tell himself to turn around and go back to the hotel, the hell with work.

God, he liked this woman. Too much. Far too much.

15

T
ONY
SLOWED
HIS
STEPS
as he realized just how much he'd rushed since getting off the subway near Catherine's. No need to bring more attention to himself than he was already getting from the neighborhood gossips. It was just that he'd seen her only once in the week since they'd gotten back from their getaway, and while they'd finished replacing the tiles on both fireplaces, they'd both been too exhausted to make love, and, well, he'd fallen asleep. She'd shaken him awake at about one in the morning and sent him home.

Today was different. It was Saturday, and while they were going to work on the sconces, he planned on doing his best work once they got into bed. He'd missed her.

Just as he arrived at her front stoop, his cell phone rang with her tone. Confused, he hit the button and said, “Catherine?”

“Am I interrupting?” Her voice was like auditory sex, low with just the perfect amount of huskiness.

“Not at all.”

“I was wondering what you were doing for the next couple of hours.”

The next...
Ah.
He recognized where this conversation was going. “Working on your house?”

“Can I get you to change your mind?

“Depends on the alternative.”

She laughed. “Look up.”

He saw her, standing at her second-floor window. Her grin lit him up inside.

“I'd like to take you somewhere.”

“You realize I'm in my work clothes.”

“Doesn't matter. You still look hot as hell.”

Tony smiled. “Don't know what to say to that.”

“Oh, that's fine. I'm perfectly okay with you just being arm candy.”

He let out a laugh, catching the attention of two little girls playing hopscotch on the sidewalk.

“Stay right there. I'll be down in a second.”

It was more than a second, but he didn't mind. She looked happy and gorgeous in worn, tight-fitting jeans and a dusky pink blouse, and the only part he didn't like was that he couldn't kiss her. The whole block of busybodies would probably implode.

“Let's go,” she said, almost taking his hand before she caught herself, and all he got was an apologetic smile instead of that kiss he wanted.

“Where to?”

“Not far.”

“You have me intrigued, Ms. Fox.”

“Good. That's right where I want you.”

“Oh, I have someplace completely different in mind,” he said, lowering his voice and giving her a heated look that made her blush.

“Stop it. There are kids playing around here.”

Tony smiled and nodded at one of the neighborhood boys coming toward them on a skateboard. “Hey, Mickey, you get that for your birthday?”

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“Nice, but watch you don't get too close to the street, huh?”

“I won't, Mr. Paladino,” he said, clearly not interested in the advice.

Catherine gave Tony a particularly sweet smile.

“What?”

“Nothing. It's just—it's nice that you look out for the kids, that's all.” she said, shrugging. “You know everyone, don't you?”

“I'm sure I've overlooked a few people.” He took in her flushed cheeks and shining blue eyes and wondered if he'd ever felt this damned happy just walking down the street. Not a clue as to where he was headed. And not giving a shit, either. “I wonder what would happen if I took your hand and held it all the way to...” He frowned. “Wherever the hell we're going.”

“Well, I'm guessing I'd get a lot of street cred. You, however, would get a call from your mom in, oh, about five minutes.”

“Five?” Tony laughed. “You underestimate the grapevine.”

As if to illustrate the point, three ladies, older women Catherine didn't recognize, moved right in front of Tony before they made it to the corner. “Tony,” the taller one said. “You're working today?”

“Yes, Mrs. La Bianca. This is my friend and client, Ms. Fox.”

The woman barely nodded. “I hear you moved next to Ida Masucci.”

“You did?” Catherine gave her an innocent smile.

“I hear things,” she said. “This is a very close neighborhood. We've all known each other since we were born. Our families have lived here for generations.”

Before Catherine could respond, the woman with the white hair said, “I understand your Angie is still single. Working outside the neighborhood. Such a shame. You were such a happy couple. But then, she's like us, a part of the community.”

Tony wasn't going to let this continue. He touched Catherine behind her elbow. “I don't want to be late,” he said, stepping around the rude
pettegole.

Catherine didn't say a word, and it took him the rest of the block to calm down. They got to Delancey and Orchard, managing to keep a polite distance from each other. But all he wanted to do was take her away again. As far as necessary.

At this point he wasn't worried about their business relationship. He was handling that part just fine. Not one client or job had suffered while he took a little time to have a life. It was subjecting Catherine to her nosy, judgmental neighbors that stopped him. He couldn't think of a quicker way to send her packing, and he couldn't bear the thought.

She came to a stop in front of the bookstore on the corner. “It's okay, Tony. I know your ex was part of the community. The comments make sense. I don't mind.”

“You have every right to mind like hell. That was intolerably rude.”

“You handled it very well, and now we're here, and I want us to have a good time. You think we can?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Of course we can.”

“Good. I hope you're not disappointed. I realize you've probably been here dozens of times.”

“The bookstore?”

“No, the museum.”

He looked again at what was directly in front of him. “Right. The Tenement Museum.”

“Do you mind going again?”

“To be honest, I haven't technically been here before.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Technically?”

“Paladino & Sons are sustaining donors. Have been since the first year, before it even opened. But, I don't know. It's like that old saying, ‘The cobbler's kids have no shoes'? No, wait, I didn't mean that one.”

“It's all right. I get your point. So, interested in seeing it now?”

“With you? Sure.”

Her hand moved to take his, but she switched it up at the last minute, as if she had to cover a cough. Jesus. The charade was getting old. They entered the museum shop and joined a group of tourists listening to a spiel about the rules. Tony had to keep his thoughts to himself when the rule about no touching came up. They meant the rooms, the displays, of course, but all he could do was look at how beautiful Catherine was with her hair pinned up. He loved it the other way, too, but this showed off her long graceful neck, and damn, he wanted a taste. Right now. Screw everybody.

“Tony?”

He met her gaze. “Yeah?”

“We're starting now.”

“Right. Sorry. Got caught up thinking.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? It won't hurt my feelings if you don't.”

“I really do.”

“Then come on. I don't want to miss anything.”

They caught up to the group a minute later. There were fifteen people, most of whom were German tourists. As the museum employee told them about the time frames of the great immigration movements from Europe during the late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth centuries, Tony watched Catherine. She was captivated. Unguardedly joyful. Every part of her was present in the way that few people in his life were. Most people listened with half an ear, waiting for their phones to ring. Not Catherine. She was all or nothing. It felt as if the only time he could focus his thoughts on a single topic was when he was with her.

Although after each visit, the jolt back to his regular life was becoming more difficult.

It had been risky to engage in an affair with a client. Let alone when he'd just taken over the business. He'd felt guilty about it in the beginning, but not anymore.

He had to admit, he was dreading the day when she realized she would never belong to the private members club that was his neighborhood. If he could, he'd protect her from that forever. But she wasn't one of the new crop of tenants who didn't give a crap about Little Italy. To most of them, the idea of the old neighborhood had overstayed its welcome years ago. Just her bad luck that she'd bought one of the very last single-family homes in the whole area, probably the most coveted house in the Lower East Side.

It had always bothered him that he and Catherine couldn't be openly together, but now it was becoming a steady ache. If it was just him who'd be affected, Tony would have told them all to go to hell. Catherine, though... He cared a lot that she'd be considered even more of a pariah than she already was.

The tour reached the second floor, the one-time apartment of the Baldizzi family. He didn't recognize the name, but he knew if he went back to the archives his family had collected—copies of census forms, birth and death records, anything they could gather from the time period—the Baldizzis would be there. It was this world his great-great-grandparents had occupied, in a building just like this one.

His brilliant great-great-grandfather, who'd seen the future, had invested every penny he and his brothers had earned into real estate. Tony had mentioned something about it to Catherine when she'd asked about his parents' home. But he'd been careful. No one who wasn't family could know about the trust. About the buildings the Paladinos owned in and around Little Italy.

It was just another barrier between the two of them.

The tour was on the move again, filing from the preserved tiny kitchen into a room that had been modified as New York had passed laws to make these horrible squats more bearable.

He turned to Catherine to tell her about what it had been like before indoor plumbing, but the educator got to her first.

“Hey, Catherine,” the guy said.

“Hey, Vito,” she said. “Great tour, as always. You do such a wonderful job.” She looked to Tony and told the museum employee, “By the way, this is my friend Tony Paladino. He's lived here all his life but he's never been to the museum before.”

The guy, who looked to be a few years younger than Tony, held out his hand. “Nice to meet you in person. We all appreciate what the Paladino family has done for the museum. Catherine's a regular here. I hope you'll become one, as well.”

Tony just nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable to be singled out. Good thing he'd already mentioned his family's involvement to her, not that it was a big deal...

“Well, we both love the history of the Lower East Side,” Catherine said. “And I learn something new every time I'm here.”

“You could be giving the tours already. Hey, you know, you should really think about volunteering. Anyway, just wanted to say hello. I need to...” He pointed his thumb behind him, at the group.

“See you soon,” she said.

“How many times have you been here?” Tony asked.

She turned to him, jumping a little when she realized how close he was standing.

He hadn't realized he'd moved, much less that he was close enough to her to feel her breath on his chin. Her lips were parted, her eyes alive with excitement, so he stayed right where he was and took her hand in his. “There's nothing decorative that you could use for your home in here, is there? I mean, the walls are covered in burlap. The floors are new, the window coverings, too, I think.”

“It's not about finding things for my place. I truly do love this area, and I want to know as much as I can about it. Besides, they have several tours, not just this one. The things they've unearthed from so many decades ago are amazing. It's one of my favorite places.”

“Huh. I learn something new about you every time I see you.”

“Every time?”

“Just about.” It would be so easy to lean down and kiss her. The temptation was so great he wasn't sure he would be able to resist.

“We don't have to stay, if you don't want to. It's a long tour.”

“No, I want you to enjoy yourself. I'm having a good time.”

She looked down at their joined hands. “Is this a wise idea?”

“Everyone here is a tourist.”

“Not everyone.” She glanced over her shoulder at Vito. “He lives off Bowery. Knows a lot of people. Part of the reason I come here so often is because of the volunteers. Not all of them live in the neighborhood, but, like Vito—” she lowered her voice, even though she'd been whispering “—like Vito, they've been very welcoming.”

“You still haven't met your next-door neighbors, have you?”

“Not officially. Although I have run into them a few times.”

Tony let go of her hand. It was shitty that no one had dropped by to officially welcome her. Naturally, he'd known the two old ladies wouldn't say boo to her, but he'd figured Deanna, Mrs. Masucci's daughter, might stop by. Or maybe Isabel from across the street, even if only to indulge her own curiosity. He hated that Catherine would end up so disillusioned.

Maybe he should have warned her that first day they'd met. Although if anyone had a chance to win over some of these archaic, narrow-minded folks, it was Catherine.

“We should go,” she said, taking hold of his shirtsleeve and pulling him back from the latest exhibit.

“Why?”

“You don't look like you're having a good time.”

“I am,” he said, his voice loudly interrupting the lecture. He winced and held up an apologetic hand, then let Catherine lead the way out.

On the stairs, out of hearing range, he stopped her. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spoil this adventure. I was enjoying it.”