“There’s lots more, but maybe he’ll decide I’m not the girl for him. So far, we’re doing fine, and I’m not going to worry about what tomorrow might bring. I’ll do my best to get you some free shoes from Lamoreaux. Will that make you happy?”
“Free shoes would be nice. I wouldn’t refuse them, but you don’t want to give him the wrong impression.”
“Believe me, I won’t give him any ideas.” She threw the apple core in the kitchen trashcan and went into her bedroom to shower and dress. She loved wearing Alejandro’s scent and hated to wash it away, but she wanted nothing on her mind other than business that afternoon.
Ana met Paul at his office, and they drove to the five-star restaurant Lamoreaux had selected. The shoe designer gave the contract Paul had prepared only a careless glance before signing. He ordered an expensive bottle of wine for them to share, but Ana took only a sip. Lucien made conversation easily but directed all his comments to her. Such unbridled admiration made her uncomfortable.
“Tell us about yourself,” she encouraged. “Do you have a wife and children?”
For the first time that afternoon, he looked away. “I’m a widower. My two sons are grown—a doctor and an attorney.”
She had meant to remind him of his wife if he had one, not depress him. “I’m so sorry for your loss. You must be very proud of your sons.”
“Of course, but I would have loved to have daughters as well.”
His sly glance promised he was open to remarrying and having a second family, but she wouldn’t encourage his interest. Something about him set her on edge, and she was relieved when Paul steered the conversation toward business.
“Our single Lamoreaux store here in Barcelona is doing exceptionally well, and I hope to expand to other locations soon. A photographer with the French advertising firm that usually does our ads will be coming to Barcelona for the shoot.”
“I always enjoy working with someone new,” Ana offered. It would also be an opportunity to learn from another photographer. Alejandro was right, though. She really did need to assemble a portfolio of her photographs for tangible proof she intended to change careers.
“The women in Paris walk everywhere,” Lucien observed, “and continually need new shoes. It’s a commodity that’s always popular. The women in Barcelona also appear to enjoy walking.”
“It’s excellent exercise,” Ana added. She could have mentioned how much her housekeeper admired the black heels he’d sent her, but the words stuck in her throat. The salad she’d ordered was very good, but she had little appetite and merely rearranged the chilled vegetables on her plate.
“You’re not hungry?” Lamoreaux asked. He refilled her wineglass. “Let’s order something else for you.”
“No, this is fine.” She scooped up another forkful. “I love the way they’ve sliced the carrots and beets.”
“It’s a colorful salad,” he agreed. “But something’s wrong. Don’t you want to work for me?”
Ana flashed her most charming smile. “I love your shoes, and I’m looking forward to doing the ads. Forgive me if my mind wandered.”
Lucien nodded. “I’ve seen the tabloids. I’m sure you’re not involved in Jaime Campos’s murder, but it must weigh heavily on you. Let’s order something for dessert with piles of whipped cream. It should make you feel better.”
Whipped cream would work as well as frosting, and this time, her smile was genuine. She thought of Alejandro with every bite and not once of gorgeous French shoes.
Chapter Ten
Alejandro took her to dinner at a new place located atop one of Barcelona’s tallest buildings. Seated beside a floor-to-ceiling window, they had a beautiful view of the city from a near-dizzying height. “This is as close as
I could get to a tree house for tonight.”
Ana reached across the table for his hand. “The lights are so pretty, but I’m afraid to look down. I’d like a tree house I could jump out of easily without needing a parachute.”
“I won’t give you any reason to jump,” he promised.
He had such a sexy smile, and she knew he meant it. She urged him to talk about his classes while they ate. He had one particularly amusing instructor, and his fellow students ranged from extremely serious to comical. “You’ll be finished soon, won’t you?”
“In a couple of weeks. I’ve interviews set up, but few firms are hiring.”
Last night, he’d been free with his advice, but she wanted only to offer encouragement. “That doesn’t mean they won’t hire you.”
He refilled her wineglass. “No, it doesn’t. I shouldn’t have given you career advice while I’m out of work.”
She appreciated his apology without gloating. “Your ideas made sense. Has your father given up on your working for him?”
“As long as I’m breathing, he won’t. Do you want to stay for dessert? Or we could go to my place and play with frosting. I bought both vanilla and chocolate.”