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  I place my hand over hers. “Five minutes, Sheryl. I just want five minutes to hand her the flowers and see the smile on her face.”

  She heaves a breathy sigh. “She’s at the Liore boutique in Tribeca.”

  “I’ll make my way over there now.” I take a few steps before I turn back. “Let’s keep this between us. I want Olivia to be shocked when I walk in.”

  “I won’t say a word.” She shakes her head. “ Ms. Hull doesn’t have enough romance in her life. I’m not going to ruin this for her.”

  Chapter 8

  Olivia

  I should fire Sheryl.

  “Mr. Donato,” I whisper his name. “What are you doing here?”

  He stares at me. “I came to thank you.”

  I skim my hands over the wrinkled skirt of my red dress. My hair is a mess. I’ve spent the better part of the last thirty minutes in the stock room rummaging through a box of satin boy shorts that were sent to this store by mistake.

  The shipment was destined for our competitor who just opened a new location a block from here.

  Trying to locate the purchase order that was tucked into the box with the hundreds of pair of underwear wasn’t an easy task.

  The manager of this store called me in a panic right before lunch because she assumed this shipment was part of our winter line and she had no record of the order.

  She wanted to know the unit number for the shorts in our point of sale software program.

  I couldn’t find it so I told her I’d come down to sort things out.

  I asked her repeatedly if the box was addressed to this Liore location. She assured me it was.

  I didn’t realize until I looked at the shipping label that the delivery person is the one who made a mistake.

  “These are for you.” Alexander pushes a large bunch of flowers toward me. “Thank you for what you did for my nephew.”

  I brush the bouquet away with a swat of my hand. “This isn’t necessary.”

  A gasp from a woman standing near us turns both our heads. “How ungrateful,” she mutters under her breath.

  “It is necessary.” Alexander shifts his gaze back to my face. “You did something special for my nephew. I appreciate that.”

  My first instinct is to deny that I’m the person responsible for the replacement jersey for his nephew, but he’s so sure of himself. Buck must have let it slip that I’m the one who went to Trey.

  “You should thank Buck, not me.” I glance around the boutique and the dozen or so customers who are now staring at the two of us. I drop my voice to barely more than a whisper. “He’s the one who broke his promise to me.”

  Alexander’s gaze follows mine. “Is there somewhere more private that we can talk?”

  I run a hand through my hair. “There’s an office in the back. We can talk there.”

  I lead the way, feeling every set of eyes in the boutique following each move we make.

  ***

  “Don’t blame Buck,” Alexander says as I close the door of the office. He turns his phone screen toward me.

  I stare at the picture of Trey and me in matching baseball jerseys and caps.

  Dammit.

  I remember the day that picture was taken. It was last spring, and we were having lunch in Boston on Mother’s Day.

  Trey thought our moms would get a kick out of the two of us dressing alike.

  They did.

  My mom was the one who took the photo using Trey’s phone. He sent it to me, but I had no idea that he also uploaded it to his Instagram account.

  “The only clue he gave me was that a female relative of Trey’s told him about my stolen jersey.” He shoves the phone back into the pocket of his gray dress slacks.

  He’s wearing black shoes and a black V-neck sweater.

  His dark hair is tousled in that sexy way that only men who look like him can pull off.

  Get a grip, Olivia. He’s not your type.

  Since I’m standing in silence, he goes on. “I thought it was a long shot when I started going through Trey’s old Instagram posts, but I struck gold when I found that picture of the two of you.”

  I tug on one of my earrings, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how I looked in the picture and how I look now. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here to thank me.”

  He pushes the flowers toward me again. “I wanted to give you these to thank you for what you did for Alvin.”

  “Alvin?” I repeat the name back. “Is that your nephew?”

  His phone is in his palm again. He shows me the screen and an image of a young blond haired boy with big blue eyes. “He’s my sister’s kid. Your cousin is his hero.”

  Any lingering reservations I had about going to Trey to ask for a signed jersey, disappear at the sight of that boy’s smiling face. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “You did more than help.” He stares intently into my eyes. “Alvin is going to meet Trey. He’s going to watch the first game of the World Series from one of the best seats in the house and that’s all because of you.”

  “Trey loves his fans.” I try to shift the focus of his gratitude to my cousin. All I did was ask for a jersey. “Trey and his agent came up with the idea for the game tickets and the meeting. I can’t take any credit for that.”

  “You’re the one who got the ball rolling.” He moves the flowers closer to me. “Please accept these as a small token of my appreciation.”

  I begrudgingly reach for the bouquet, knowing that every employee in this boutique is going to question me about the flowers and the handsome man who gave them to me.

  I clear my throat. “Thank you. They’re lovely.”

  “Have dinner with me.”

  Dumbfounded, I fumble with something to say. I didn’t expect a dinner invitation. Hell, I didn’t expect him to come down to the boutique today. “No…I won’t…I mean, I can’t…”

  If he’s offended, it’s hidden behind the brilliant smile on his face. “You can’t or you won’t. Which is it?”

  “It’s not necessary,” I clarify, not wanting to look like a fool because I instantly assumed that the invitation was for a date, not a thanks-for-making-my-nephew’s-dreams-come-true dinner. “The flowers are thank you enough.”

  Confusion knits his brow. “The flowers are a start.”

  “They’re enough,” I argue.

  “Hardly,” he spits back. “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Hull.”

  “Why?” I ask as he starts toward the office door. “I did you a favor. You thanked me. That’s the end.”

  “I’m in your debt.” He stops to look me over. “I always repay my debts.”

  Before I can say anything else, he turns on his heel, opens the door and disappears into the crowded boutique, turning every female head he passes.

  I have no idea what the hell just happened between Alexander and me but he’s wrong, he doesn’t owe me a thing.

  Chapter 9

  Alexander

  “I don’t even care that they lost,” Alvin says through a laugh. “This was the best night of my life, Alex.”

  It ranks up there with one of the best of mine too.

  When I told him yesterday, at his birthday party, that we’d be spending a good part of Sunday night cheering on his favorite team from the stands, his face lit up.

  The tears started when I added that he’d be meeting Trey Hale.

  Phoebe told me that he didn’t sleep a wink last night. I can see that in his face now.

  He’s crashing hard from the excitement of this weekend and that unforgettable moment when he hugged his hero.

  Trey couldn’t have been any more gracious.

  “You ready to head home?” I ask as I pick up the team jacket, pennants and ball that Buck handed us when he brought us to our seats after the meet and greet.

  Alvin has been wearing the autographed jersey since Trey presented it to him under a barrage of camera flashes.

  Phoebe was fine with Alvin’s face being plastered all over
social media and television. She signed the release form Buck forwarded to me without question.

  I only wish I could have brought her along to witness this.

  I look out at the emptying stadium and the star-dotted sky.

  Life is good. It’s so damn good right now.

  “I want to stay here forever.” Alvin’s hand reaches for mine. “I’ve never been to a game before. Do you think we can come back sometime?”

  I look down at the sight of his small hand in mine. “You bet. I can’t promise the same treatment next time, but we’ll…”

  “I can.”

  Alvin’s head snaps back at the sound of Trey Hale’s voice behind us.

  I turn to see him, still dressed in his uniform, standing next to Buck.

  “Trey.” Alvin rushes toward him but stops a foot short of him. “Good job out there tonight.”

  Trey’s expression softens as he tugs the ball cap from his head and places it on Alvin’s. “We’ll do even better next game.”

  Alvin’s fingers skim the brim of the cap. “I’ll be watching with my mom at home. She’s a big fan too, but she doesn’t know all the stats the way I do.”

  “Those two seats are empty for tomorrow night’s game.” Buck motions to the seats Alvin and I occupied. “You think your mom would want to bring you back to watch Trey win?”

  “Hey now.” Trey elbows him. “Let’s rephrase that. Do you think your mom could bring you tomorrow to watch us play our hearts out?”

  Alvin scratches his cheek as he turns to look at me. “What do you think, Alex? If mom can’t bring me, will you?”

  “Your mom will make the time,” I say without any doubt in my voice. I know my sister. She’ll jump at the chance to sit next to her son tomorrow night. “We’ll tell her about it as soon as we get to your place.”

  “I’ll have two passes waiting for them at the box office,” Buck says before looking down at my nephew. “Do you need another soda to take with you for the ride home? Maybe a candy bar?”

  “Yes, please.” Alvin’s voice vibrates with excitement.

  “Let’s go pick something from the concession stand before they close it up for the night.” Buck glances at me. “There’s a car waiting to take you back to Queens.”

  “Thanks, Buck.” I smile when I spot the look of pure contentment on Alvin’s face. “I’ll be right there, Alvin.”

  “I’m not in a hurry.” He turns his attention to Trey. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

  “You know it.” Trey pats his shoulder before Alvin takes off on Buck’s heel.

  I move toward Trey with my hand outstretched. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. As you can see, you’ve not only made Alvin’s night, you’ve made his life.”

  He lets out a laugh as he gives my hand a firm shake. “I was his age once. I loved the game too. I know what it means to sit in these stands.”

  What he’s given to Alvin can’t be measured on any scale. We both know it. I don’t need to explain that to him. “I’ll have to thank Olivia again for her part in this.”

  “You know about that?” Trey crosses his arms over his chest. “Did Buck fuck up and let it slip?”

  I chuckle with a shake of my head. “He only gave me a clue. He said it was a female relative. I pieced the rest together myself.”

  “Olivia knows that you know?” His brows lift.

  “I gave her flowers last week to thank her.” I’m mildly surprised that he didn’t hear about that, although I have no idea how close they are.

  I wouldn’t know any of my cousins if I passed them on the street. My family is separated, not only by physical distance but emotional vastness.

  “Good.” He jerks his chin. “She’s a great person. She’s always looking out for everyone else. I’m glad to hear that you took the time to send her flowers.”

  “I hand delivered them.” I glance over his shoulder to where Buck is standing next to Alvin. “She was working at one of the boutiques that day.”

  “Working too hard, no doubt.” He steals a glance behind him. “Olivia’s the hardest working person I know. I’m surprised she showed up tonight.”

  “Olivia was here?”

  “Front row.” He gestures to the field. “She always comes out to the first home games of the season and the series if we make it. It’s tradition.”

  I want to ask if she came with someone, but her relationship status is none of my business. I hadn’t even considered it until this point.

  Maybe that’s why she had such a strong reaction to my question about dinner. She’s involved with someone.

  I glance over at Alvin again. “I should go. I need to get my nephew back home before the stroke of midnight, or my sister will never forgive me.”

  Trey laughs. “It was good to meet you, Alex. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

  “You bet,” I say as I brush past him.

  Something tells me that this won’t be the last time I see Trey Hale.

  Chapter 10

  Olivia

  I watch as another flower petal drops onto my desk. The bouquet that Alexander gave me almost two weeks ago isn’t technically a bouquet anymore. It’s a bunch of stems with withering petals in a tall vase sitting in an inch of yellowed water.

  It’s a testament to how often I receive flowers.

  I’m holding onto these until the very last petal has fallen and the stems have dried up. Only then, will I let Sheryl take the vase away.

  She pokes her head into my office in another attempt to wrestle the dying flowers from my grasp. “Are you sure you don’t want me to dump that vase, Olivia?”

  “No.” I look over a blank piece of paper in front of me. “When the time is right, I’ll take care of it.”

  She sighs. “I can stop by the market on my way to work tomorrow and pick up a fresh bouquet. Consider it my treat to you.”

  Is that pity in her green eyes?

  The only flowers that are ever delivered to the office for me are on my birthday and those are from my mom.

  The card bears the same message every year.

  To my daughter on her birthday.

  Love, your mother.

  My mom loves me more than anything, but heartfelt messages are not her way of showing it.

  “You don’t have to do that.” I lean back in my chair. “I appreciate the thought.”

  “Cathleen stopped by earlier looking for you.” Sheryl straightens and takes a step into my office. “She said it wasn’t urgent.”

  If my boss wants to talk to me, that takes precedence over everything else.

  Cathleen Dickerson is the person who gave me this job. She was the one who encouraged me to pursue a degree in business and once I earned it, she promoted me by making me her junior assistant.

  I’ve worked up the ranks since then, always with her encouragement and support.

  “She didn’t say what it was about?” I ask for clarification since Sheryl isn’t quick to offer every small detail of her exchanges with other staff.

  “Nope.” She moves closer to my desk. “I’ll call her and ask if she has a minute to see you now.”

  I push back from my desk and stand. “I’ll run up to her office and see if she’s around.”

  Sheryl gives me the once-over. “I love that pencil skirt on you, Olivia.”

  I glance down at the black pencil skirt and white blouse I’m wearing. It’s my go-to outfit whenever I can’t decide what to wear. “Thanks, Sheryl.”

  “Do you need me to take care of anything while you’re gone?” She points at the dying flowers.

  “No.” I usher her out of my office with a brush of my hand against her elbow. “You can email Steph about the new bra line that’s launching in the spring. Tell her I’ll drop by with samples later this week.”

  “That I can do.” Sheryl turns to look at me. “Have I told you lately what a great boss you are?”

  “Twice today, but I’m listening.” I laugh as I start down t
he corridor toward the elevator. “By the way, you’re an amazing assistant, Sheryl. I’ll be back right away.”

  “Take your time,” she calls after me. “Have fun up there with the big shots.”

  I laugh even though I hope one day, I’ll have an office on the top floor of this building.

  ***

  Lowering myself into one of the chairs facing Cathleen’s desk, I wait while she shuts her office door.

  My heart is thumping out a beat that I can feel in my toes even though I know I haven’t done anything to warrant a warning. The smile on Cathleen’s face when she saw me approaching her office was reassuring.

  She ushered me past her assistant without a word.

  “Sheryl told me that you stopped by my office,” I finally speak as she rounds her desk to take her chair. “I thought I’d come up and see what you needed.”

  “Two tickets to Alexander Donato’s opening night.”

  “What?” My eyes widen as my pulse picks up even more. “I think I misheard you.”

  “You didn’t.” She leans back in her chair. “From what I’ve heard, the man has been following you around Manhattan.”

  If he has, he’s damn good at hiding it. I haven’t seen him since the day he popped into the boutique in Tribeca and handed me the flowers.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I say genuinely, wondering if this is indeed what she came down to my office to talk about. If it is, I’m disappointed. I was hoping it was about my stellar work.

  “I’m joking, Olivia.” Her lips smooth into a smile. “I heard that he was in the building looking for you a couple of weeks ago before he showed up at the Tribeca boutique.”

  “I helped him with something,” I offer. “He just wanted to thank me.”

  “He was here earlier.” She glances at the closed door of her office. “He spent some time with Gabriel.”

  Gabriel Foster. He’s the man in charge.

  He’s the CEO of Foster Enterprises. His family owns Liore Lingerie, as well as several other clothing companies.