Page 47

“What?” she says. She puts down her book and reveals a horrified look on her face at the thought of feeling the semi-fresh air of New York’s streets, which is adorable.

“Out. Of this apartment.”

“We’re bed rotting,” she says, as if that’s all the answer I’m going to get.

“I know. But we need to eat.”

“You’re a Cordon Bleu chef and you make a mean omelet. We don’t need to go out to eat.”

She’s right of course, but I want to take her somewhere. “Come on,” I say. “Throw me a bone. I have to get the opportunity to wine and dine you.”

She narrows her eyes at me like I’m asking her to dance naked in the snow. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

I thought that might be an excuse she used to avoid spending time with me. “Funny you should mention that.” I leap out of bed and head into one of the other guest bedrooms. I come back pulling the rack of clothes I had delivered the morning she moved in.

“What is that?”

“Things for you to wear.”

She scans the rack. “That’s not for me.”

“You left your dress here, so I know your size. Plus Bergdorf’s is good at its job. So now you have no excuses. You have plenty to wear.”

She turns back to the television. “I’m not wearing any of that.”

“Well, that’s not very polite.”

“Ben, I’m a fully grown woman. I don’t need you to dress me like I’m a child.”

I wince. Shit, this is her thing with her brother. She’s trying to prove to him that she can succeed on her own, stand on her own two feet and I’ve just treated her like she’s incapable of buying her own clothes. This is going to be a tricky line to walk.

“I’m sorry. That’s not how this was intended. It was thoughtless when I was trying to be anything but. I know you can buy your own clothes. And I know you’re not a child and have your own mind. I was trying to do something nice. Nothing more.”

Slowly, she turns her head to look at me. “I’m sorry. I know you were being nice. It’s just…”

“I get it.” I reach out and squeeze her arm.

“Worth is being nice too. He’s honestly the best brother and I love him, and without him, I wouldn’t have the life I do now. He protected me from so much. He’s given me so many opportunities. Sometimes when I think about wanting to prove myself on my own, wanting to have Boston to succeed or fail because of me, I feel so ungrateful. I don’t mean to be.”

“Does Worth know how you feel?”

She shakes her head. “I could never tell him that sometimes I feel incapable around him and Poppy.”

“You’re anything but incapable. You’re so independent. Clever. Ball-busting.”

She pulls in a breath and gives me a small smile. She’s trying to placate me, but she doesn’t believe a single word I’m saying.

“Let’s go like this,” I say.

“You really want to go out to dinner, huh?” she asks.

“I want to show you my favorite place in New York.”

She nods. “Okay. But I’m not turning up in shorts and a top knot to your favorite place in New York.”

“It’s not fancy,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure.” She clearly doesn’t believe me.