Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set (4 page)

"It was fine, but I'm feeling a little tired. Do you think we could go?"

"Really?" he wondered aloud, arching his brows upward in surprise. "
You
want to skip dessert and coffee? I thought you lived for the sweets?"

Normally you couldn't have pried her away from the table before the dessert. In fact, she usually looked at those choices first to gauge just what to get as a main course. A good dessert menu meant, in her mind at least, that she would cut back on the dinner so she could leave room for the sweets. But tonight she just wanted to get home and try not to think about David's behavior, Eduardo's comments and Rey.

"I've got a headache and just want to go home."

David's mouth formed a shocked "O.”

"You mean to my apartment, right? It is our three month anniversary after all," he reminded, his inflection giving away all that he was thinking.

Bianca laid her napkin on the table and took a deep breath before replying to control her upset. "No, I mean home as in my dinky little apartment. I'm tired."

"But I thought we would finally, you know," he jumped in and looked around to see if anyone had overheard. His face flush with embarrassment, he leaned close to complete his sentence. "I thought you and I would go to my apartment and, you know. . ."

Her blood pressure must have jumped a zillion points since her face grew hot and her insides chilled as cold as ice as she answered him. "Just because it happens to be our anniversary, it doesn’t mean we’re going to get intimate."

"But it's been months, Bianca. Three to be exact," David emphasized, counting each month off on one of his fingers.

"Is that supposed to mean something, David? Is it like written in stone somewhere that this is what you’re supposed to do after three months?"

"Most people I know don't even wait that long before they’re involved," he challenged, peering at the various couples around them. "I bet most people here -- "

"I'm not most people, David. When the time is right we’ll go to the next level in our relationship."

"And when will that be, Bianca?" he shot back hotly.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I've said it once and I'll say it again. I am not, capital letters on the ‘not’, interested tonight, David."

He deflated before her eyes. He leaned back into the chair and his muscles went slightly slack. "I won't apologize for wanting you. But I didn't mean to get you angry. I just thought that since it was our anniversary and everything, that --"

" I would jump into the sack with you? Even though you've been a total jerk all night?" she said angrily.

Again his mouth formed that "O" of surprise and then his eyes lit up, as if recognition dawned. "Is it that time of month? Is that why you're so crabby?"

It was the final straw in the proverbial camel's back. She rose and grabbed her purse. "I'm going now, David. I will call you . . . "

Bianca stopped short, suddenly aware that she wasn't sure just when she would call him.

"I have to go," she finished and left him sitting there, another “O” of surprise on his suddenly not-so-handsome features.

* * *

She was lucky that an empty cab was passing by the restaurant as she walked out. Normally this area in the twenties was not that well-travelled and a cab was sometimes was hard to come by.

Tonight she slipped into the back seat, leaned forward toward the break in the glass partition, and gave the cabbie her address.

He nodded, mumbled something and quickly took off, sending Bianca flying back hard onto the seat. She grabbed hold of the handle on the door, righted herself, and rapidly located the seatbelt and slipped it on. In the relatively light traffic, the cab sped down the bumpy streets of downtown Manhattan, each pothole sending a jolt through her, but doing nothing to apparently dissuade the cabbie into slowing down.

Bianca was glad it was only about a dozen blocks to her Union Square studio apartment. The cabbie screeched to a halt and the belt kept her from sliding off the seat and against the glass partition of the cab. He turned and asked for the five dollars for the ride and Bianca opened her bag, got the money and handed it through the partition, glaring at him as she did so.

"What, no tip?" he questioned as she undid the belt and got out, but Bianca said nothing, only slammed the door shut. He should have given her hazard pay considering how he had driven.

The lights on the top of the cab flipped on to signal that he was free and he pulled away with a fresh squeal of the tires in search of another victim.

Bianca dug her keys out of her bag and entered her apartment building. She hurried to the elevator, but it sported a hand written sign saying it was out of order.

Great, she thought. Just what she needed to cap off her miserable day.

She slung her bag on her shoulder and trudged up the stairs, thankful for her regular workouts by the time she reached the fifth floor.

Entering her apartment, she laid her bag and keys on the small table by the front door and walked into a single room that served as her living room, bedroom, and kitchen. She was luckier than most in that an enclosed space barely bigger than a closet had been built against the one wall of the apartment and contained a toilet and miniscule shower stall. The other wall boasted two large windows that looked out onto Union Square.

She flipped a light on by the sofa and walked past the barely workable kitchen counter that housed a tiny refrigerator, stove, and sink. Above and below the counter were cabinets that housed only a small portion of Bianca's collection of cooking paraphernalia. A large part of her remaining hoard of pots, pans and utensils sat in boxes along the far wall of her apartment. They had been waiting for years for her to either open her own place or for her to be able to afford an apartment with a real kitchen.

As she sat on her sofa and pulled off her high heels, she thought it funny that she would be getting her own restaurant before the apartment.

Kind of like putting the cart before the horse, she thought.

At twenty-six, she had spent the last four years slaving in two different restaurants in Manhattan, including the one where they had just eaten. She might still be there if not for a sudden and surprising visit from Eduardo.

Bianca stood and walked over to the large armoire that held all of her clothes. She slipped off the chic black Dior suit, a Christmas gift from her parents, and hung it up. The white, sleeveless knit shirt she had worn beneath the suit and her bra went into her hamper as did her matching underpants and pantyhose. From a drawer she pulled out sleek, skimpy, silk pajamas. She held it up by the thin straps and realized that if Rey saw her in the revealing and expensive material it would only reinforce his concept that she was a spoiled princess.

Well, who cared what he thought anyway?

So what if she liked feminine little touches like these to offset the chef's clothes she normally wore while she worked in the kitchens. And what was she doing thinking about him anyway? she chastised. Maybe it was because of her fight with David.

As much of an ass as he had been that night, Bianca had to acknowledge that maybe David was right in a way. Most couples she knew who had been dating for several months were physically intimate. But Bianca had never taken that kind of involvement lightly. In fact, except for a long time boyfriend in high school and another brief stretch in cooking school, she hadn't been intimate with a man in a long time.

In the back of her mind she considered that maybe part of the reason was what Eduardo had mentioned earlier. Maybe deep in the recesses of her heart, she was waiting for the kind of relationship that her friends and future partners shared. One like her brother had found. A relationship filled with passion and desire, but built on respect and admiration as well.

A level she and David had yet to reach in their short relationship, not that she would admit that to Eduardo. He'd give her his smug "I told you so" kind of smile and she'd be forced to cream him with the nearest skillet. She liked Diana too much to leave her a widow at such a young age.

Slamming the door shut on the armoire, she returned to her sofa, pulled the pillows off and tossed them onto the floor. She moved the low coffee table off to the side and then yanked out the sleeper bed. It squeaked and the springs pinged in protest as she unfolded it and smoothed out the sheets and blanket. The groans of the bed grew even louder as she climbed in and reached over to snap off the light.

Beneath her back, and despite the special egg shell foam mattress she had bought for the bed, the hard wire springs and cross supports bit into her body. Like the princess and the pea. The bed, or maybe it was better to say the lack of a real bed, had been a constant irritation in her life. But she made do with the sleeper, knowing she had little choice about the bed without a better apartment. And a better apartment had been out of the question for a variety of reasons.

Even though she had secured a job at a nice restaurant immediately after her graduation from the cooking academy, she had wanted to keep her rent reasonable so that she could put aside money for opening her own place eventually. She had known it would take time and hard work, and had accepted the challenge.

That was why she had been able to join Eduardo and his wife in this new venture. Instead of spending her money on a bigger apartment, she had saved what little she could and put away a decent amount of money for just that kind of investment.

Combined with a gift from her brother Alex, she had been able to become a full partner in Eduardo's and Diane's proposed venture.

She raised her arms, pillowed her head on her hands, and stared up at the lines on her ceiling created by the streetlights and her cheap vinyl mini-blinds. The lines were at an odd angle across the ceiling.

Even with all the good things that were happening, she wondered if her life wasn't in a similar kind of state, all slightly off kilter and out of sync.

It was funny, but up until Eduardo's earlier comments and David's boorish behavior, such a thought would not have kept her awake at night. She would have said that her life was okay. Not great, not fabulous, just okay.

Up until two weeks ago she had worked at a great restaurant, had a nice boyfriend, a savings account that was growing at a reasonable rate, and an apartment that while not large or luxurious, wasn’t shared with the variety of vermin common in many Manhattan buildings.

What more could a girl ask for? she reminded herself, ignoring the answering little voice that said just two words.

Love and passion.

She added, security and stability, thinking that in the past month her world had taken an unexpected turn.

It had been pure luck that Eduardo's uncle, the owner of the restaurant they had met Rey in this morning, had finally decided that the place had sat vacant long enough. He had offered to give it to Eduardo for a reasonable price as well as a small share of whatever profits the place might make. Eduardo and his wife, Diana, had immediately jumped on the opportunity and called her to become a part of it.

It hadn't been an easy decision to make.

She loved her two friends and knew they could work well together. She'd had at least a part of the money necessary, but not enough. She had known she couldn't talk to David about it. He wouldn't understand taking a risk like this, too concerned with "financial responsibility" as he put it.

So she had turned to her best friend, her brother Alex, who had been all too willing to sit and listen to her plans and concerns. She had explained about the opportunity and he had offered his support in any way possible. She hadn't asked him for money, not wanting to be a burden, but Alex wouldn't take no for an answer.

"When my wife and I split, you, mom, and dad all pitched in to help out with Samantha. I couldn't have done it without you back then, and you never asked for a penny for baby-sitting," he had reminded her.

When she had argued that she was family and she couldn’t have ignored that he needed help, he had smiled, knowing he had won the argument.

Alex had written her a check so she could be an equal partner in the venture and after visiting the prospective restaurant site, he had also offered to help out with any manual labor that was necessary to get it ready. His newlywed wife, Maya, who Bianca had always liked, had also offered her services and whatever other support Bianca needed. It was during that conversation that the issue of Rey had come up.

Rey of the magical renovations, Maya had said, speaking in glowing terms of the work he did and how he had stayed at her house at all hours to try and finish up on schedule when other problems arose. Not to mention that he was the brother of her partner, Daisy, another woman that Bianca had met on various occasions and admired. She considered them her friends and was happy that they had offered to help out.

But being friends with Maya and Daisy didn't mean an instant pass for Rey, she thought.

With money being an issue now that the bank had refused to give them the full loan, they had to make every cent count. If Rey's bid and suggestions weren't the best, it wouldn't matter that he was Daisy's brother, a friend of Maya's, and just too damned sexy for his own good.