Looking Inside

Alessandra and Jimmy made up for Trey’s surliness and Eleanor’s shock by filling up the silence. Alessandra talked about her glamorous job as a BBC television presenter and Jimmy was describing his job at the museum. When the drinks came and Eleanor and Trey had only said twenty words between the two of them the entire time, Jimmy launched into an enthusiastic description of their newest exhibit. Jimmy was a good friend. He knew what a crush Eleanor had had on Trey for over a year now, and sensed how awkward the situation was. He responded by trying to talk Eleanor up, bragging about her coup in negotiating a trade from the Smithsonian for Mary Todd Lincoln’s wardrobe and jewels.

“You told me you were in charge of membership and donations at the museum,” Trey interrupted bluntly.

“Everything we do at the museum is ultimately geared toward expanding membership. It’s the cold, hard reality of life,” Eleanor managed with a brittle laugh. Jimmy opened his mouth—undoubtedly to ask her what the hell she was talking about. Eleanor kicked him under the table. It was the best she could do to shut him up. He wouldn’t understand why Eleanor hadn’t wanted Trey to know she was a basement-dwelling, mousy conservation librarian. I mean . . . look at the kind of woman he’s used to dating, she thought, staring at Alessandra and

repressing a frown.

“How long have you two been dating?” Alessandra asked, taking a sip of her martini and looking annoyingly glamorous.

“We’re not dating. Eleanor and I have been good friends for years, ever since we met doing summertime work during college, restoring paintings at the Art Institute. It’s not exactly thrilling work, so we had to keep each other entertained,” Jimmy said, smiling at Eleanor.

Jimmy had probably heard her try to deny it earlier when Trey assumed they were dating, and was trying to set the record straight. But at that point, Eleanor would rather have just assumed Trey did believe she was on a date, since he was on one. Jimmy’s friendly words seemed to hover in the air over their table. Alessandra frowned and glanced furtively at Trey.

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood. I thought you two were together,” Alessandra said. She reached beneath the table, and Eleanor’s stomach lurched. Alessandra had just put her hand on Trey’s thigh beneath the table. “Trey and I met in London. Six months ago, right, honey?” she asked, staring up at Trey’s stoic profile.

Suddenly, Eleanor couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed back her chair.

“Excuse me for a minute,” she murmured awkwardly.

—

Trey tracked her progress through the crowded bar, annoyance building in him. Why is it I’m always watching her while she makes an escape? The jeans she wore looked like they were painted on. Her long, wavy hair swayed sexily just inches from the top of her ass as she motored across the room. The red heels with the ankle straps that she wore were killing him. Despite the jaw-dropping rear view of her before she disappeared down a hallway, it was the anxiety in her large eyes and the blank immobility of her usually animated face that remained burned in his mind’s eye.

He’d been stunned when he’d woken up alone on Wednesday morning, and then increasingly pissed. Maybe that was cocky of him, to be put out because a woman snuck away from his bed. But the truth was, he couldn’t remember it ever happening before in his life. What made the experience even more annoying was that he felt particularly robbed, because it’d been her.

He’d wanted to wake up next to that fresh, unexpected, puzzling, mind-blowingly sexy woman. He’d craved uncovering more of her secrets.

Yes, he’d told her he wanted to keep things light and casual. True, he had no right to be irritated at her escape.

That didn’t alter the fact that he was.

“Excuse me as well,” he said presently. He ignored Alessandra’s tightened, clawlike grip on his thigh and her calling his name in a petulant query. He plunged into the crowd around the bar. Damn Alessandra.

Damn this whole asinine situation.

Okay, it was partly his fault. He’d completely forgotten about Alessandra’s text, inviting him to meet her for some no-strings-attached sex. They’d had dinner at Gold Coast a few times, and drinks a few more, so apparently, that qualified in her book as making it their place, even though he’d never designated it as that in his mind. He’d never responded to her text, and in truth, hadn’t even thought about her invitation until he’d seen her standing in that doorway twenty minutes ago, looking for all the world like she’d been expecting him.

In fact, he’d come home early from Rockford because he’d been distracted while there. He wasn’t the only one who’d seemed out of sorts at his parents’ house. His brother, Kevin, was in a pissy mood and refusing to talk about it with his usual confidantes: their mom and Trey himself. His sister, Kacy, and Kevin had a long-term rivalry. Kevin’s bad mood filtered over to Kacy, making her irritable as well. Add in the fact that Jason, Kacy’s son, was suffering from a bad cold and being unusually whiny and demanding, and Kacy was worth avoiding over Thanksgiving as well.

Trey himself was uncommonly on edge, put off by the abrupt ending of his tryst with Eleanor. The simple fact was he wanted to see more of her. Had Eleanor left without waking him because she’d lost interest now that she’d achieved her goal of sleeping with the man she’d been spying on?

He’d tried to recall if she’d ever said if she planned to stay at her parents’ for the entire weekend, or if she was coming back to the city after the holiday. No, she hadn’t mentioned it. He would have remembered if she had specified. Why hadn’t he asked, damn it?

Because I thought I’d still have time left with her to find out.

Evanston wasn’t far. If he left Rockford early, maybe he could nudge Ralph into convincing Eleanor’s doorman to get him her number? Maybe there was a chance of seeing her this weekend.

That’s precisely what he’d been in the process of doing when he’d glanced over his shoulder and saw Eleanor herself, dressed to kill and looking gorgeous, rushing into the lobby. It’d taken him a few seconds to come to the ugly realization she was meeting up with the tall, good-looking, dark-haired guy standing at the entrance of Gold Coast.

Trey was leaning against the wall, waiting in the dim hallway when Eleanor came out of the bathroom a minute later. She started when she saw him and came to an abrupt halt.

“How come you left without waking me up the other morning?” he demanded without preamble.

She appeared taken aback for a second before she rallied. Her chin went up.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to. You were sleeping. I was trying to be considerate. I was trying to keep it light.”

He pushed himself off the wall and stepped toward her, until they were only inches apart. She wavered in the sexy red heels she was wearing, like she wanted to back up, but she held her ground. She looked up at him, the mixture of trepidation and defiance on her face making him grit his teeth. Hard. He might have relived moments about their night together a lot more than he cared to admit, but memories didn’t match up to the reality of her eyes. She had to have the most amazing, expressive, sexy eyes he’d ever seen.