Red Carpet Romance Page 3

  “Love who? Oh, no questions, sorry, I forgot.” She sat down, took a hefty draught, and finished her drink. Jealous, in one day? Calm down, sister.

  Quinn applied the corkscrew to the wine bottle. “My sister, Maggie. She’s my secretary. I prefer to hire people I trust.” Quinn pulled the notebook out of his back pocket and tore a piece of paper out. He wrote something down and handed it to her. “This is her phone number. She’s expecting your call. Tell her what you need to take care of Junior. The audio thingy…”

  “You mean baby monitor?”

  “Yeah, yeah. That. Whatever. She’ll order it and make sure it’s delivered here.”

  “Even a rocking chair?” She lifted her eyebrows.

  “Even a rocking chair.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded. The buzzer rang. The food had arrived. She poured the wine while Quinn answered the door. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. Camping out at her sister’s apartment, sleeping on the couch, and helping with her kids, meals had been slapdash at best. A steady diet of chicken nuggets, scrambled eggs, and fast-food hamburgers made her queasy. She survived on as little food as possible to keep her stomach from objecting. She craved real food, grown-up food, a civilized meal.

  Quinn raised a large bag as he came through the archway into the kitchen. Susanna’s mouth watered. He unwrapped the food—Coquilles Saint Jacques, wild rice, and haricot verts. Napoleons for dessert. She tucked into her food, chewing slowly, closing her eyes to savor every bite.

  “You look like you haven’t eaten in years.” He popped a scallop into his mouth.

  “I haven’t eaten grown-up food in a long time. Bunking in with Annie and her kids. We ate kid food all the time. If I never see another chicken nugget…”

  He laughed. “Enjoy yourself. More?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. Quinn spooned more of the creamy scallop dish onto her plate and poured more wine.

  “Dessert on the terrace?” He asked, raising his glass.

  “The terrace?” God, he’s turning on the heat, and I’m melting.

  “You didn’t see that before? I guess not. It’s on the other side of the living room.” He took two forks, put the napoleons on a plate, and pushed to his feet. Quinn stuck his hand out, and Susanna accepted it. He led her around the corner, then opened the sliding glass doors. There was a round, wrought iron table with a glass top and four wrought iron chairs with plush cushions in a floral print with green, white, and coral.

  He placed the plate on the table and pulled a chair out for her. She sat down while her gaze scanned the view. It’s a full court press. Can I resist? “This is…incredible. This view…it’s…awesome. If I lived here, I’d be on this terrace all the time.”

  “You do live here,” he said, softly. The sky had just begun to turn pink, indicating the next day would be sunny. The air seemed fresher on the twenty-first floor, above the exhaust fumes choking pedestrians below.

  Heat flamed her cheeks. “Guess I do. At least for now. But I’d be afraid to bring Junior out here, especially when he starts crawling.”

  “Get a playpen. Do they still call those things playpens?”

  “They do. Deal. I’ll tell Maggie. A rocking chair will be nice…to soothe the baby.”

  “Better make a list.” Quinn took a forkful of the sweet confection.

  “You’re going to be investing a bunch of money for your son to have him with you for only a few months.”

  “It’s…complicated.”

  That’s what they all say. The dads who don’t want to be dads. She turned her gaze away from his handsome face and back to the park. She could see across it, though the blossoming trees were beginning to create a wall of green, limiting the view.

  “I bet you can see clear across to the cars driving on Fifth Avenue in the winter.”

  “You can. I prefer the spring and summer view. The trees, flowers, horses and their carriages.”

  “I like warm weather, too. Hate the cold.”

  “But you lived upstate, right?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “Never liked it. At least not in the winter. I prefer the city or the beach.”

  “Me, too. I have a place in Malibu. Near the ocean.” He moved his chair closer to the table.

  “Makes sense. I mean, since you have to be out there a lot, working.” She cut a piece of the napoleon with her fork.

  “Hotels add up, and sometimes I like to make a cup of coffee or have a drink when I want. Nice to have a place for my stuff, too.”

  “Place for your stuff? Reminds me of…”

  “George Carlin! Yeah!” And he burst out laughing. She joined him. The sun fell lower in the West, darkening the park, casting bigger shadows on the city. Susanna glanced at her watch then pushed to her feet.

  “Think I’ll read for a bit.” She stood awkwardly, gathering up the dishes. He opened the door for her.

  “I’ll do those. You had a long day.”

  “Thanks,” she said, handing him the dessert plate. She lingered at the doorway, uncertain what to do.

  “It’s weird to have a beautiful woman in my house who’s not here with…for…staying with me.” He blushed, casting his gaze at the dishes in his hand.

  Open mouth, insert foot, Quinn? She chuckled behind her hand before placing it on his forearm. “I know, right? I was going to say sort of the same thing. I mean, having dinner with a gorgeous guy who wasn’t going to jump me afterward.”

  He laughed, his gaze connecting with hers. “You’re here for Junior. No plans to jump you, not that I wouldn’t like to. Maybe I should just shut up.” He walked toward the kitchen.

  She snickered, heat coloring her cheeks. “Goodnight then.”

  He nodded back at her. The last sound she heard when she closed the door to her room was the sound of water sloshing over dishes and, perhaps, a small sigh.

  * * * *

  Susanna draped a short, pink seersucker robe over the foot of the double bed. She pulled down the covers and slipped her naked body between cool, high quality cotton sheets. She opened a paperback she bought at the second hand bookstore on Broadway and positioned two pillows to support her back.

  Although she tried to read, her mind kept wandering, and her gaze settled on the closed door. I’m naked in a bed in Quinn Roberts’ apartment. He’s down the hall, soon to be naked in his bed, too. I’m totally safe. He won’t bother me. And I’m disappointed.

  She switched out the light and scooted down, pulling the sheet up over her breasts. She rolled over on her side, listening to Junior’s even breathing, and let her mind wander. Quinn Roberts. Generous, sweet…but doesn’t want to interact with his son? Hunky. I want to run my fingers through his hair. I bet even one night with him would be amazing.

  She tried to banish the sexy thoughts from her head, but they kept coming back. He’s right down the hall. Damn. Before long, she fell into a restless slumber until early morning sunlight and infant cries woke her up at six.

  Susanna threw on her robe and picked up Junior. She changed him, kissed his cheek, and settled him on her hip as she opened the door quietly and crept into the kitchen, not wanting to awaken Quinn. Bustling about preparing the baby’s formula, cereal, and fruit, Susanna hummed to herself. Junior kicked his little legs and gurgled as he watched her move around. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and shoveled the first spoonful into his open mouth.

  Softly she sang BABY BELUGA, a Raffi song she used to sing to her nieces and nephew, as she fed him. Junior moved his eyes from her face to the spoon and back to her face, totally caught up in the sound of her voice. When she finished, he gave out with the loudest shriek she’d ever heard from a baby. It was a cry of delight, but it startled her, and she jumped, dropping the spoon on the ceramic, tile floor with a clatter.

  She glanced nervously at the hallway, unable to see Quinn’s doorway from the kitchen. Susanna sat still, holding her breath, but didn’t hear any noise from the other end of the apartment.

  A
nother cry and giggle from Junior brought her attention back to feeding him. She put the utensil in the sink and took a clean one. The happy child kept trying to grab it from her hand. “No, no, the spoon is mine. When you get bigger…we’ll get a baby spoon… and…”

  “Do you think he understands you?” A deep voice surprised her. She dropped the clean spoon, causing sticky food to spill on the highchair tray and the baby. Flustered, she stole a look over her shoulder as she wiped up the mess to see Quinn standing in bare feet and boxers, rubbing his face. Heat colored her chest and rose up her neck.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. I heard a scream. Movie calls start around five, so I’m not a late sleeper.”

  His gaze slid over her body, creating a tingling sensation in places hidden from his view by a very thin piece of cloth. She put the spoon down to draw the scanty robe snugly around her body and tighten the sash.

  “What do they call that fabric?” His stare followed her curves.

  “Seersucker,” she said through dry lips.

  “Oh. Pretty.”

  Pretty thin, almost see-through. Make note. Buy new robe. “Thanks,” she choked out, embarrassment lodged in her throat.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “New experience. Never had a girl in a robe like that in my kitchen who hadn’t come from my bedroom…” He laughed. “Weird. Damn weird.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never been in a kitchen at six in the morning with a man in his boxers who I hadn’t spent the night with.” She slid her gaze down his amazing chest, following the line of dark hair that led down, down, down below the waistline of his boxers, hanging low on his hips. He looked down and blushed bright red before he turned and ran toward his bedroom.

  She giggled as she wiped Junior’s face and pulled him out of the highchair. “Time to go.”

  She took him into the bedroom and placed him in his crib. He immediately started to wail. “No, no, I’m not putting you back to bed, just for a few minutes…” she said, bustling around the room, pulling clothes out of drawers. His wail turned into a full cry as she ripped the robe off and grabbed her underwear, slipping on her panties first. Before she could fasten her bra, the door burst open.

  “Susanna…I don’t know what’s bugging Junior, but…”

  With her back to the door, she turned halfway around to see Quinn standing there in jeans, his mouth hanging open, his gaze fastened on her bare breasts. She shrieked and covered her chest with her arms, Junior wailed even louder now that he had competition, and Quinn stood firmly planted.

  “Do you mind?” She yelled at him.

  “Mind? Oh. Oh my God. I’m sorry…so sorry,” he stammered, turning redder and redder.

  “The door!” She yelled, causing Junior to scream louder. “Go! Out!”

  Quinn regained his senses and turned, exiting the room quickly and closing the door behind him. Susanna fastened her bra, pulled on her jeans, and tossed a T-shirt over her head. Then she picked up the squalling, red-faced baby and hugged him. She sneaked out onto the terrace, holding Junior.

  “Look, Junior. Look at the pretty view,” she cooed. As the vast blue sky and green trees below diverted his gaze, the baby’s last two big tears rolled down his face. She swayed slightly, rocking him in her arms, talking softly to him. He rested his head against her shoulder, and his eyes began to close. She continued the steady movement until she was sure he was asleep. When he went limp against her, she turned to bring him back to his crib for a nap.

  Once again, she was startled by Quinn standing in the doorway grinning at her. “You’ll make a good mother.”

  “Think so?”

  He nodded. “Sorry about barging in on you. Again, I’m not used to having women here who require…uh…privacy. When I heard him squawk, I thought something was wrong, and so I just well, I didn’t think…I…”

  “I get it. Next time knock. I’m not one of your women and prefer a bit of formality. So if you could knock…”

  “Absolutely! I will. I promise.” He chuckled.

  Susanna moved toward her bedroom with Quinn following behind. “What’s so funny?”

  “Not funny, amazing. The view.”

  “Oh, yeah. It knocked Junior out, too.”

  “Not that view. The view in your room. Wow. I mean, just saying…I can’t ignore…what I saw…you are…beautiful,” he said, obviously embarrassing himself as his blush deepened, and he ran his hand through his hair.

  “I hope you enjoyed it because it was the first and last time you’ll see that view.” She stuck her chin out, turned on her heel, and huffed out of the room. Are you sure about that? “Oh shut up,” she murmured to herself as she put Junior down. She picked up her book, stretched out on her bed, and promptly fell asleep.

  Chapter Three

  “Good afternoon, little man.” She picked Junior up, changed his diaper, and took him into the living room. While he amused himself on the blanket on the floor with his toys, Susanna called Maggie and gave her the list of necessities. Then she went online to a site called At Your Service, an Internet New York City gourmet food service that delivered. Quinn wants lots of salad but not me. She placed an order and charged it to his account.

  Obviously, Quinn wasn’t home as the apartment was quiet. She smiled to herself. Scared him away, I guess. After gathering formula and snacks for a trip to the park, Susanna glanced at the front door for the stroller. There, sitting where Junior would, was a brand new basketball. On it was taped a note.

  Best basketball courts are in Riverside Park at 76th Street.

  A wide grin graced her face. For me? How did he know? She removed the ball, placed Junior in the seat, and strapped him in. After putting the basketball on the package platform, Susanna slipped a little purse in her pocket and headed for the elevator. You’re forgiven, Quinn. She shot a broad smile at Crash when he opened the door.

  It was a beautiful day. The sky was a brilliant blue. The air had softened and warmed to a gentle caress on her neck as she walked along the sidewalk. Dazzling sun bounced off windows to reflect on outdoor boxes of peonies and roses. Junior babbled and gurgled in the stroller as if he was having a conversation with Susanna, so she spoke to him, remarking about the day and the scenery.

  When they reached the area Quinn mentioned, Susanna lowered herself down on a bench to watch. The court was huge, with at least six basketball hoops, three on each long side. Three were being used, but there was one on the end, facing the benches, which was unoccupied.

  Still, she couldn’t bring Junior in there. Too many basketballs bouncing around. He could get hurt. A gentleman with steel gray hair, sitting on the end of the bench, put down his newspaper to eye her. She lifted her eyebrows.

  “Are you looking for something, young lady?” He asked.

  “Looking for someone to watch the baby while I shoot a few hoops.”

  “Your kid?”

  “I’m the nanny.”

  “What would that mean? Does the kid need anything?”

  She shook her head. “He just had a bottle. He’s teething, so chewing on one of his soft toys would occupy him.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “You?” Her eyebrows shot up.

  “Why? Don’t think I can watch the tyke?”

  If he had been a bird, his feathers would have been ruffled. She smiled. “Don’t doubt you for a moment. But I don’t even know you.”

  “My name is Max. Max Webster.” He extended his hand, then pulled a card out of his back pocket. “Here’s my address.”

  She looked over the card, which showed only his name and a tony address two blocks up from Quinn. “Fancy building.”

  “They don’t let serial killers in our building. They’d never get board approval,” he said with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye.

  Susanna laughed. “Susanna Barnes.”

  “Lucky kid to have a nanny like you,” Max said, eyeing her figure.

  She made a face at him and moved away an in
ch or two.

  “What did I do?”

  “I recognize a leer when I see one.” She frowned at him.

  “Hey, looking isn’t against the law, is it?” He shrugged.

  “Well, no, but…”

  “So humor me. Let me look at you. You’re a beautiful sight for these old eyes.”

  “You’re not that old.” She crossed her legs.

  “Old enough to be your father…and then some,” he laughed. “So are you going to shoot a few and leave this little one with me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I have grandchildren.” He raised his eyebrows.

  That did it. How dangerous can a grandfather be? “I’ll be right over there, watching you. That hoop next to the door. I can run out of there in a second, and I’m fast. I’ll run you down and beat you to death with this basketball if you harm a hair on Junior’s head.” Her face clouded.

  He put his hands up. “I surrender! You got me. Now what would I be doing hurting a lovely little baby like this?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t trust anyone. He’s been given to me to keep safe.”

  “Have it your way,” Max said, picking up his newspaper.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to insult you. Just that I’m responsible, you know?”

  “Go. Have five minutes. Keep your eye on me. He’ll be safe. I’m very protective. What’s his name?”

  “Junior.”

  “Junior? Really? You’re joking,” Max’s eyebrows shot up.

  “It’s the truth. All right. Five minutes.” Susanna got up slowly. She kissed the baby on the top of his head and bounced the ball along the narrow path to the court. Keeping watch on Max and the infant, Susanna warmed up. She dribbled, did some layups, took some foul shots, and ran, moving the ball up and back on the court.

  All the while, Junior watched her or shifted his big, brown eyes to Max’s face. After a few more minutes, having worked up a good sweat, Susanna returned to the bench. She broke out a bottle of water and chugged the whole thing.

  “You’re good. Damn good. Where’d you learn to play like that?” Max asked, moving the stroller back toward her.