“This time of year,” Damian said, “who’d have believed it?”
“Business goes on, no matter the weather,” Nicolo said.
Damian nodded. Then a sheepish smile angled across his mouth.
“Truth is,” he said, “Ivy read about an exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. A butterfly room, you know, one of those things you walk through and the butterflies swoop all around you? I suggested waiting until fall but she said the baby was at just the right age, so—”
“I know what you mean,” Nicolo said. “Aimee found out about a baby tiger at the Bronx Zoo. I said, great, we’ll fly over when the weather cools. She said yes, but the tiger would be bigger then and so would little Nickie.”
“Priorities change,” Damian said softly.
Nicolo nodded. “And for the better.”
The two men grinned at each other. Then Damian turned to Lucas.
“But not for our hold-out.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Hold-out?”
“Lucas Reyes. Our perennial bachelor-in-residence. Still haven’t found the right woman, huh?”
“You mean, I still haven’t been trapped. Not that you two were,” he added hastily. “I just meant that marriage isn’t for every man.”
“That’s what I thought,” Nicolo said.
Damian smiled. “Same here, but I was wrong.” He took a long, cool swallow of his ale. “So, Lucas. What brought you to the city?”
“Business.”
“Ah. I thought maybe it was a woman.”
“Why would it be a woman?”
“Just a thought.”
“Business, is why I’m here.”
“Yes. So you—”
“There’s not a woman in the world I’d come all this distance to see.”
Nicolo and Damian exchanged quick looks. Was Lucas’s tone just a little grim?
Nicolo shrugged. “Of course there isn’t. As Damian said, you’re our perennial bach—”
“I’d never get that deeply involved.”
His pals shared another glance.
“No,” Damian said, “we understand that.”
“I’m finalizing a deal with a banker. Very hush-hush. He wanted some verbal hand-holding. He suggested flying over to Spain.” Lucas reached for his ale, saw that the bottle was empty and signaled for another. “But I said, why go to all that trouble? I can be in New York in just a few hours.”
“Absolutely,” Nicolo said carefully. “Far better to hold your meeting here, where you could fry an egg on the sidewalk, than to sit on the patio at Marbella enjoying a breeze from the sea.”
Lucas looked up, his eyes flat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s only an opinion.”