Vivian leaned toward him too, and for a moment she saw his gaze drop toward her lips before it jumped back up to meet hers. “Not a bit hard to believe,” Vivian said, smiling at his surprised expression. Their faces were only inches apart, and she dropped her voice until it was barely above a whisper. “I’mverylikable.”
“Far as I can tell, your Ms. Huxley thinks so,” Leo said quietly. Vivian was about to pull away, but he put a careful hand over hers. “I can’t really blame her for that,” he murmured. “And I think you must like her a bit too. But here’s the thing, Vivian.” He leaned forward again, until Vivian was sure he was going to kiss her, then stopped, so close she could almost feel his lips moving. “I think you’re starting to enjoy spending time with me too. And you know what happens when you give a fella reason to hope?”
Vivian bit her lip. “What?”
“He hopes.” Leo sat back slowly, smiling. “And he asks you to leave these boring gossip papers and come dance with him.”
The sudden chill where the heat of his body had been made Vivian long to go after him. But if he was playing games, she could too. She pursed her lips, pretending to consider his offer. “All right. Since youarea swell dancer.”
“I’m pretty darn handsome too,” he said, winking.
Vivian laughed at the naked confidence, but she didn’t argue with the statement as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Time for us toget out of here, anyway, if we don’t want Honor to catch us poking around her things.”
“Hey, you’re the one doing the poking,” Leo protested. “I’m just keeping you company.”
“I’d tell her it was your idea,” Vivian said, unable to resist teasing him.
He pretended to look hurt. “You’d do such a terrible thing?”
Vivian shrugged. “Maybe I’m a terrible girl.”
“Terribly pretty,” Leo said, grinning up at her as he leaned over to let his head loll against her shoulder.
Vivian pushed him away, ignoring his yelp as he lost his balance and toppled to the floor. She began shuffling the papers into a stack to tuck them back into their basket.
“I hope you don’t think you can get all—” she began, then fell silent as one of the photos of Willard and Hattie Wilson caught her eye.
“Get all…” Leo prompted, but Vivian wasn’t listening.
Eagerly, she grabbed several more issues that had mentioned the Wilsons, flipping through the pages for photos. This time around, she ignored the faces, staring instead at the dresses that Hattie was wearing.
She recognized them. Some of them she had even done the beading on herself.
They were all dresses made in Miss Ethel’s shop.
If Hattie Wilson bought her clothes from Miss Ethel, then odds were she had placed another order in the last two days. A woman whose husband had just died needed new clothes. And Miss Ethel always had dresses delivered directly to her customers’ homes.
“Is something wrong?”
Vivian glanced up, startled, then quickly shoved the papers back into the basket. For a moment, she had forgotten that he was still there. “Just fine,” she said, picking up the basket and returning it to its spot behind Honor’s desk. “Had an idea, is all. I’ll talk to my boss about it tomorrow.”
“Tell me more about being a dressmaker,” he said, holding out his hand.
Vivian didn’t object as he led her from the office, though she remembered to turn the lock before she left so that the door latched behind them. “It’s not that interesting. I spend my whole day hunched over fancy clothes for rich people.” She glanced sideways at him as they went down the stairs. “What do you do?”
“Used to do illegal things in Chicago,” he said, laughing at her surprised expression. “What, did you expect me to lie about that? You already guessed, so there’s no point pretending.”
“And now?”
“I actually came back to New York to work for my uncle. My dad’s retired out on Long Island, and he’s thrilled to have me here again.”
“Is your uncle a bootlegger too?” Vivian asked, worry creeping over her again.
But Leo shook his head. “Far from it,” he said. “Takes some getting used to, I can tell you that. But I’m glad to be back in the city.” His face softened. “I missed my dad while I was in Chicago.”
The quiet, easy way that he said it, as if he took for granted both having a father and the feeling of missing each other, sent a spike of envy through Vivian’s chest. To cover up the feeling—it wasn’t Leo’s fault he had family who wanted him around and she didn’t—she laughed. “You’re a big softie.”
He winked at her as they reached the end of the hall. “Don’t tell anyone.”
