In truth, if he'd been anyone else, it might have been kind of...sweet. His concern for her.
As it was, though, this was probably just a ploy to set their deal in motion.
But if he was staying for pizza, that didn't mean she had to fall into his clutches. Pizza could just be pizza. Friends could just be friends. And she and Brooks...
Well, they could stay passive enemies for the rest of their days if she so desired.
The first step was to put her game face on. And the second was to put on some clothes.
* * *
After he ordered, Natalie disappeared into her bedroom to change, and Brooks stayed in the kitchen, staring around the little place and waiting.
It was much nicer than he might have expected. On a secretary's salary (though, admittedly, he had no idea how much that was), he thought it would be nice, but modest. Sure, the rooms were small, but the things inside were...surprising.
The pots hanging from the rack in the kitchen were beautiful copper-bottomed things, almost like the ones his housekeeper had bought for him in France.
The living room was even more mysterious. Mixed in with the People magazines and stacks of books were pictures of Natalie in cities all over the world.
Paris, Amsterdam, Beijing, Tokyo...
How the hell could a woman her age have gone to so may different places? And how--
The door on the far side of the room opened and Natalie reappeared, this time dressed in a pair of sinfully sexy jeans and a tight T-shirt. Her brown hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail.
It was probably the sort of thing she thought was safe--what someone might wear to the mall. But on her? On her, the outfit made his throat go dry and his heart pound a little harder.
He sat back on the couch, then patted the space beside him. Hopefully, he could get that red blush of anger to take over, but instea
d she rolled her eyes and sat as far away from him on the couch as she could.
"So, this is quite a place you've got here," he said.
"It's the best I could get on the scraps I get for pay." She smiled and he resisted the urge to smile back. It was too early to show his hand.
"You could always ask your dear old friend Franco for help. Maybe he'll buy you a house."
She pshawed, but didn't offer up any more details. Which, strangely, made that kernel of jealousy in his chest flare up and grow. "What's the deal there? You said—"
"I said it was none of your business. And I stand by my word. Now, would you care to play some Jeopardy while we wait for this pizza, or are you too chicken?"
Avoiding him again. Dammit. Maybe if he could change the subject to those damned flowers—
"Well, are you in or are you out? The second round is about to start." She raised her eyebrows.
"You sure you want to play Jeopardy against me?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"You're on."
The final commercial for AARP or the like ended, and then Alex began introducing the categories. After each, Brooks was careful to glance toward Natalie and gauge her reaction, but her poker face was better than expected.
The contestant chose the etiquette category, and Brooks glanced at Natalie again as Alex read the question: "In this country, it is considered rude to cut your potatoes."
"Germany." The answer shot from her before he'd had the opportunity to open his mouth.
"How the hell would you know something like that?" he asked.