“The big ones offer some decent exposure,” he said. “I used to do quite a few before I opened the shop and built up the custom business. Had it down to a science.”
Kat hated the whole art-fair scene—the set-up, hauling her work around with the possibility of damage, the unpredictable weather and turnout, and the potentially low return on investment. Besides, a lot of people went to art fairs for cheap entertainment or to walk their dog, not because they were seriously interested in buying art.
She smiled and changed the subject. “Your appointment tomorrow is at nine or ten?” They’d texted back and forth several times, but she didn’t remember all the details as well as he apparently did.
“I got lucky on that,” he told her. “Ten o’clock. I had to book flights before I found out my time slot, though.” Pausing, he cleared his throat. “So, I’m heading out tomorrow evening.
“Ah, too bad,” Kat said. “That’s such a waste. You could’ve spent the whole weekend in New York.”
“Believe me, had I known you when I made the arrangements, I would’ve made different plans.”
Kat’s breath caught in her throat. He was direct. The unexpected admission sent her thoughts spinning. All signs said he was enjoying getting to know her as much as she was enjoying getting to know him.
They decided to skip dessert, but in the silence that hung between them after the waiter left the table, Kat grew nervous. What next? She was reluctant to end the evening, but should she invite him over?
“Where to?” Nick asked suddenly. “There’s a nice bar in the lobby of my hotel. Or we could head over to Times Square. Maybe find someplace with live music? Or do you need to make it an early night?”
She appreciated the “out” he extended, but she didn’t need it. “It’s too cold to be wandering around outside. Let’s go to my apartment. I’ve got some good chocolate that pairs nicely with coffee or wine. Would that work?”
“Sounds great.” He reached for the check.
Kat was still mulling their conversation as they left the restaurant. Could she take tomorrow afternoon off? Spend it with Nick? He hadn’t mentioned any plans, and she’d already put in a few extra hours earlier in the week to catch up from the holiday time off.
When a sharp blast of wind swept around them, Nick turned to her. “Why don’t you go back inside and stay warm while I flag down a taxi?”
“No, it’s fine,” Kat assured him. “It won’t take long to get one.”
She hadn’t meant anything other than she would stay with him, but he put his arm around her, pulling her close, presumably to keep her warm. It worked. She could feel the heat radiating from his body through their coats. Turning slightly, she inched closer.
Was it her imagination, or were temperatures rising?
ChapterSix
Fifteen minutes later, Nick gazed around the apartment. Taking in the limited size as well as the eclectic mix of furniture and decoration, he satisfied many hours of curiosity about its adorable resident. It suited her.
With one wall painted the reddish-orange of a fall leaf, the room had personality. He looked closely at three small pastel works framed and hanging on one wall. They were similar in subject and style—bright details of flowers in a whimsical style that practically moved on the paper. A fabric tapestry dominated another wall, and above the sofa hung a landscape of rolling hills and colorful sky. No doubt an artist lived here.
He smiled inside. Kat Andrews was such an intriguing surprise. He knew she came from money, but nothing about the apartment screamed wealth. Relieved, he glanced back her direction. Sure, he’d found her attractive when they met at her parents’ house, but tonight…he felt a tug deep in his gut. She looked like a model, or maybe a ballerina, with her hair swept up in a haphazard fashion that left delicate wisps of honey-colored curls along her beautiful, swan-like neck. He hadn’t noticed the graceful flow of her neck into her shoulders before.
Tonight, she was stunning in a deep rose dress and textured tights. The flats she’d worn in Denver were replaced with short boots sporting three-inch heels. The cute Midwestern girl he’d met earlier had been replaced by a sophisticated city-girl bombshell. The scooped front of her dress exposed delicate pink flesh, and a row of tiny buttons drew attention to the shadow of cleavage peeking just above them. He’d hardly been able to do anything but stare at her throughout dinner.
His visual tour of the apartment was interrupted when a large orange tabby appeared at his legs.
“You don’t mind cats, do you?” Kat asked.
“Not at all. Who’s this?”
“Winslow.”
With a chuckle, Nick kneeled to scratch the cat. “Great name. One of my favorite artists.”
“Mine, too,” she told him.
He gestured around the room. “Cozy place. Which of these pictures are yours?”
“I did them all, except for the quilt.”
He moved in for a closer look at the landscape. “This is great. “You’re going to be famous someday.”
