Sharon hesitated, so Gabrielle gave her a gentle shove. “I’ll be fine. Go.” She waited until her friend was on her way to the kitchen department before she walked over to where the father and daughter stood, in time to hear the preteen extol the virtues of Gabrielle’s shoes.
She hadn’t even seen the girl checking her out.
“They aren’t Manolos, they’re Christian Louboutins,” Gabrielle heard herself say.
Two sets of eyes glanced up at her. One in awe. The other in recognition.
“Christian Louboutins,” the young girl said, shaking her head. “My mom doesn’t even own a pair of those.”
“I’m sure that will change while she’s in Paris with her new husband,” Derek said, his stunned gaze still firmly on Gabrielle’s face.
He cleared his throat. “I heard you two met at the library,” he said a little awkwardly.
“Not officially. Just long enough for me to tell her we had the same taste in books when I was her age.” Gabrielle never tore her gaze from his.
“Hey! Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Derek’s daughter asked as she dropped her armful of pillows onto the nearest counter and tugged on her father’s sleeve.
He unloaded the items in his arms, too. “Holly, this is an old high-school friend of mine, Gabrielle Donovan. Gabrielle, meet my daughter, Holly.” He gestured between the two.
“You two knew each other in high school? Wow!”
Derek met Gabrielle’s gaze.
And as his daughter spoke, about what Gabrielle couldn’t focus on, Gabrielle’s shallow breathing eased. The heat simmering between her and Derek did not.
“And you have the coolest clothes on the planet,” Holly added.
“Or at least in Stewart.” Derek laughed.
Gabrielle remembered that smile too well. She recalled what he could get her to do with that charm of his even better.
“How old did you say you were, Holly?” Gabrielle asked.
“I’m eleven and three-quarters,” she said proudly.
“When is your birthday?”
“August 15,” she said.
“I think that makes you more than eleven and three-quarters,” she said to the bright-eyed girl.
Derek nodded. “Someone has a birthday coming up next month.”
Holly grew more animated. “Ooh, I do. I need to think of a gift, don’t I?”
He laughed. “Yes, you do.”
“Clothes,” she said, drawing out the word.
“That means more shopping?” Derek asked, a mock grimace on his face.
Gabrielle met his tortured expression with a grin of her own. “What’s your favorite store?” she asked Holly.
“Different places. I got these flip-flops today at Abercrombie.” She waved her foot in the air.
“Ever hear of Isaac Mizrahi?” Gabrielle wondered if she sounded as silly as she felt, talking to a child about fashion.
Holly shook her head. “Who is he?”