If the Ring Fits... Page 3

  Tony grinned at her from the opposite side of the glass. The weather was more hospitable today. He had no need for a trench coat. In fact, he wasn’t wearing a coat at all. Rather, he had on a thick wool sweater that fit snugly over his broad shoulders and chest. He looked plenty warm. Hot, in fact. Rachel broke out in gooseflesh again.

  “Mr. Salerno.”

  “Tony,” he stressed.

  “I was just thinking about you,” Rachel said as she ushered him inside.

  Even though it was true, she realized immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. A bedroom smile creased his cheeks and she swore his hazel eyes turned smoky.

  “That is exactly what a man hopes to hear from a beautiful woman. Tell me, carina, about these thoughts.”

  Briefly, she considered flirting back. It wasn’t only the fact that Tony was a client that stopped her. She was too out of practice.

  “I, um, your necklace is almost ready. Did you come by to see it?”

  “What if I said I came by to see you?”

  She smiled, not sure how to respond. He said things such as this to the women who worked for Rachel, so she knew he didn’t mean anything by it. Still, it had her flustered and tongue-tied. A fresh onslaught of hammering started upstairs and saved her.

  “Santo cielo! What is that racket?”

  “I’m having some renovations done.”

  “You’re adding a second story to the shop?”

  She shook her head. “Actually, I’m having the bulk of the square footage turned into an apartment, leaving a small storage attic for the shop.”

  “This is an older building with a lot of charm and a good location, especially for a young professional. You should have no problem finding a renter.”

  “I already have one lined up.” At his raised eyebrows she added. “Me.”

  Tony pointed toward the ceiling. “You plan to live there?”

  “I do. As soon as the renovation is finished, which should be before spring.”

  “It cannot be very big.” He grimaced. “Forgive me. That was rude.”

  “That’s all right. As for the apartment, it doesn’t have to be big. It will just be me.” She shrugged. “And maybe a cat.”

  “A cat?” He shook his head. “No. Dogs are much better company.”

  “Oh? Do you have a dog?” she inquired.

  Tony shook his head. “No. Unfortunately. I am away too much of the time to have one now. But I did when I was a boy in Italy. A Bracco pointer.” At her puzzled expression, he added, “It is a breed of hunting dog that is quite popular in Europe. My father spent months training the dog to spot game birds.”

  “So it was a good hunter,” she guessed.

  “I do not know.” A shadow passed over his face. “My father died before he was able to hunt with her.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  The corners of his mouth turned down and he shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

  Which she took to mean he didn’t want to talk about it. She understood perfectly. Her father had deserted her a long time ago, too, but time hadn’t healed that particular wound, not completely anyway.

  “Well, dogs need a yard and I won’t have one living here. Cats are more independent.”

  “Which is why dogs make better pets. That is, if companionship is what you seek.” Just that quickly, his smile changed from charming to seductive.

  “I—I—I really haven’t decided on a pet. Just thinking aloud,” she explained hastily.

  Overhead, the pounding crescendoed, followed by a thud that shook the rafters.

  “Pazzesco! Is it like this all day long?”

  “In the evenings only. I’ve asked the contractor to save as much of the noisy work as possible for the off-hours. Construction doesn’t make for good background music,” she added wryly.

  “I would have to agree.” He glanced toward the ceiling again before turning his gaze on her. “Will you have a design studio up there or will you continue to work on your jewelry down here?”

  Rachel frowned. “I guess I hadn’t really given that much thought.”

  Mal hadn’t liked her to bring work home, so she’d never followed through with her plans to turn one of the spare bedrooms of their house into a design studio. But she could do that here. It would be her decision. Her choice. She liked knowing that.

  “Would you mind showing me the space? If it would not be too much of an imposition, of course. Just to satisfy my curiosity,” he added with an innocent smile.

  Rachel could find no reason not to grant the request. She wasn’t living there yet, so it wasn’t as if she were inviting him into her home. Besides, they would have chaperones. Even so, she hesitated.

  “It’s dusty,” she warned with a meaningful glance at his impeccable attire.

  Tony, however, was unconcerned and undeterred. “If my clothes get dirty they can be washed.”

  More likely dry-cleaned, but she shrugged. “All right. Follow me.”

  She led him to the back room. Just to the right of the rear entrance was a narrow staircase that led to the second story. The treads were made of wood and not covered with a runner. The stain’s finish was scratched and worn off completely in the center. Like the rest of the building, they had a lot of years behind them. They creaked and groaned as Rachel and Tony started up them.

  “How old is this building?” Tony wanted to know.

  “It dates to the late 1880s. It started out as a mercantile, and it was a card shop before I bought it. Rumor has it that the downstairs was a speakeasy during Prohibition.” She sent a smile over her shoulder. Tony was studying her butt. Despite being caught in the act, he smiled.

  “A checkered past. I like that. It lends a little spice.”

  She nearly tripped on a tread. His hands went to her waist immediately, staying a little longer than she thought necessary. “I s-suppose.”

  They reached the top. A heavy plastic tarp cordoned off the work site in the hope of keeping as much of the sawdust upstairs as possible. Even so, the air was thick with it. She sneezed. Tony offered her a neatly folded square of linen from his pocket. It was monogrammed with his initials and seemed too pretty to wipe her nose, but she did so as discreetly as possible. Rachel tucked the handkerchief into the pocket of her pants. She would have it laundered before returning it.

  “Of course, the late 1880s would be considered modern in parts of Italy,” he remarked conversationally.

  “That’s one of the things I admire about Europe. All of that lovely old architecture and so much of it has been preserved. My goal with this renovation is to keep as much of the original finishes and charm of the building as possible, but safety and modern conveniences are a priority, too.”

  “Form and function.”

  “Exactly. The previous owner did some updating before I bought the building, but the electrical, plumbing and ventilation systems will need to be modified to accommodate an apartment.”

  She reached for the tarp, but Tony pulled it aside for her and waved her ahead of him.

  “When the work is complete, the entrance to the apartment will be reconfigured so that it will be accessible from outside the store. The original stairs will lead to a storage unit here.” She pointed to the right where boxes of varying shapes and sizes were protected under more plastic sheeting.

  “Eventually, once I no longer have need for it, I plan to rent out the apartment.”

  “Any thought on where you would like to live?” he asked.

  “Not really. Except that I’ll want a house again.”

  “For your dog.” He smiled.

  She laughed. “For my dog. Still, this and a cat are a good solution in the interim. And I certainly can’t complain about my commute time.”

  In addition to the hammering, a radio blared vintage rock. The workers stopped what they were doing when they spied her and Tony. There were three of them, all of them outfitted in denim and T-shirts whose holes and wear patterns were the result of serious lab
or rather than fashion.

  “Hey, Mrs. Palmer. Sorry we’re making so much noise,” the crew’s foreman, Will Daniels, said after switching off the tunes. “We should be done with the framing by the weekend, if it’s any consolation.”

  “Oh, that’s not a problem, Will. My…um, client, Mr. Salerno, was curious about the layout, so I brought him up to see. I hope that’s all right?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” He rested a pair of meaty hands on his hips. “Me and the guys were thinking about knocking off for fifteen anyway.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tony stepped forward and stuck out a hand. “I am Tony, by the way.”

  The foreman seemed a little surprised. He wiped his palm on the leg of his jeans before shaking Tony’s hand.

  “Will Daniels.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “And these are two of the best framers in the business.”

  Tony shook each of their hands in turn before glancing around. “There is much to do here, but I see the potential.” To Rachel, he said, “It is bigger than I thought it would be, even cutting off a portion for storage.”

  “The ten-foot ceilings help, as does the fact it is so open,” Rachel said.

  “Will it remain that way?”

  “Pretty much. It’s going to be a studio apartment when they’re finished.”

  “Can you show me around?”

  His smile was too charming to refuse. While the workers opened their waters and stood a discreet distance away, Rachel walked Tony through the room, her imagination turning studs and subflooring into a finished, furnished and, most importantly, a highly colorful and textural, home.

  “This is going to be the kitchen. It’s small, but it will have everything I, and whoever the tenant is after me, will need.” She pointed to an outside wall. “The sink will be under the window, with cabinetry on either side.”

  “The finish for the cabinetry?”

  “Cherry. I like the richness of the wood.”

  He made a humming sound. “And the brick, will you leave it exposed?”

  “In a section of the main living space, yes. I love the look of it, but for insulation purposes, I’m going to have the rest covered in drywall. Otherwise my heating bill will be through the roof.”

  “A practical compromise, then.”

  “Yes.”

  He followed her to the far wall, where a couple of tall windows faced south.

  “The light here would be ideal for a work area.” He motioned with his hands as he continued. “It could accommodate a desk here and some storage cabinets there. You could make use of the vertical space by putting in shelving.”

  Rachel felt her creative juices begin to flow just thinking about it. She could picture the work area Tony was talking about. She liked it…with a little tweaking, of course. With a finger pressed to her lips, she turned in a semicircle.

  Half to herself, she said, “I guess I could skimp on the master closet to free up more floor space.”

  “Am I in your bedroom, signorina?”

  Ridiculously, she felt her face heat as she watched Tony’s mouth curve. Oh, she knew that smile.

  “Actually, you’re in my closet, right about where I was planning to put my shoes.”

  He was undeterred.

  “Do you have any stilettos, carina? In red perhaps?”

  “Sorry. None.”

  He made a tsking sound. “You need to buy some. They do wonderful things for a woman’s legs.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “And now?” He stepped toward her, close enough that she could smell his cologne. “Where am I standing now?”

  They were where her bed would be. When she said nothing, Tony chuckled softly. “You will look lovely here in the morning light.”

  The air backed up in her lungs. It took a moment, but she managed to exhale. Pointing to the right, she said, “The bathroom.”

  “Hmm?”

  “The bathroom. It will go here.” She stepped to where the construction crew had already framed in the walls with two-by-fours.

  Tony wasn’t smiling. In fact, he was frowning. “But there is not enough room here for a proper tub.”

  “It will have a shower only,” Rachel agreed on a sigh. What woman didn’t like the indulgence of a long, languid soak?

  “You are always welcome at my home. I have a big tub.” That sinful smile spread over his face once again when he added, “Big enough to accommodate two.”

  He was just flirting, she reminded herself. He didn’t mean anything by the words. Even so, she wanted to be sure he understood one thing clearly. She didn’t condone cheating. Having been the one cheated on, she wasn’t about to turn around and become the other woman, even if Tony and Astrid weren’t married or, for all she knew, exclusive. She turned to face him and said pointedly, “Perhaps you should be inviting Astrid to join you, then.”

  “Astrid.” He studied the ceiling a moment as if considering, then shook his head. “Astrid and I are no longer seeing one another.”

  Rachel knew her mouth was gaping open, but it took her a moment to snap it closed after mumbling, “Oh.”

  “Yes. Oh.” He tapped her nose.

  Was he laughing at her? Rachel decided to concentrate on business. Did he still want the necklace? “Is this a recent development?”

  “Not really. We said our official goodbyes in Stockholm.”

  “But that was—”

  “Prior to me returning to the States. Yes.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” She flushed even though he hardly looked broken up about the relationship’s demise.

  He didn’t shrug, but his words were the verbal equivalent when he said, “We enjoyed one another while it lasted, although never in my bathtub. These things happen.”

  “Yes, they do.” Rachel’s tone was sharper than she intended.

  This time, it was Tony who apologized. “That was an insensitive remark given your current circumstances.”

  “At least you didn’t cheat on her,” Rachel replied without thinking.

  “I never cheat, carina. Never.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed him. Regardless, he wasn’t the sort of man who settled down. He was…the perfect rebound. She sucked in a breath and tried to shoo away the thought.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Fine. I…I’m just surprised about the necklace. I assumed it was for a special occasion.”

  “It is. A parting gift as well as a way to wish her luck with her career.”

  “That’s very generous of you.” And no doubt it would ensure Astrid went on her way without any fuss or acrimony.

  He did shrug this time. “I can afford to be generous. Because that is the case, women want things.”

  Rachel frowned. “I’m offended on behalf of my gender.”

  “Everyone wants something, carina.”

  His level gaze left Rachel to wonder exactly what Tony wanted from her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “THE house has been sold?” Stunned, Rachel plunked down in the chair in her office. The leather seat groaned even as she did.

  On the other end of the telephone line, her real-estate agent, Flora LaBelle, was saying, “I’m just as surprised as you are. Of course, technically, both you and Mal have to accept the offer in order for the sale to go through, but I think you should. It’s a pretty decent one, especially for this soft market.”

  “How decent? Full asking price?”

  “Well, no. A little less than that.”

  “By how much?”

  Flora cleared her throat. “By about ten thousand dollars give or take a few hundred.”

  “Oh.” And damn! This was not what Rachel wanted to hear. She’d hoped to get as close to the asking price as possible since she would have to split the equity with Mal. She needed every penny.

  Flora wasn’t done. “The buyer also wants you to pick up the closing costs.”

  That would be several thousand dollars more out of pocket. “Gee, is tha
t all?”

  Despite Rachel’s sarcastic tone, Flora continued. “And the buyer is requesting that all of the kitchen appliances stay with the house.”

  “The appliances? They’re brand new.” Indeed, stainless-steel beauties that Rachel had picked out herself just before learning of Mal’s infidelity. “I was hoping to keep those.”

  She and Mal had agreed on that in the settlement. Rachel had planned on them for the apartment’s kitchen to keep down the renovation costs.

  Flora sighed. “You can buy new appliances, Rachel. I have other listings that have been on the market for months without so much as a nibble. You would be foolish to quash the sale over appliances.”

  “Can’t we at least counter the offer?”

  “Mal doesn’t want to,” Flora said.

  “Mal? You’ve already talked to Mal?”

  “I… Yes.”

  “And he doesn’t want to at least see if we can get out of paying the closing costs?”

  “He thinks the offer is fair.”

  Which put the ball back in her court.

  Flora was saying, “It could be months before another offer comes along, and even then it might not be as good as this one. It’s hard to say which direction the market is heading, Rachel. In the meantime, you’ll be making mortgage payments and the winter taxes are coming due. And Mal said the furnace is getting old.”

  “I get it,” Rachel said, figuratively throwing up her hands in defeat. It was a game of roulette, one with a high cover. She couldn’t afford to take the risk.

  “On the bright side, the buyer has agreed to forego a home inspection and take the house as is.”

  “Thank God for small miracles. So, what do I need to do now?”

  “I can swing by your shop in half an hour for you to sign the purchase agreement. Then I’ll get all of the other paperwork in order.”

  “Terrific,” she muttered. “Assuming the sale goes through, how long before we close?”

  Flora coughed again. Rachel was coming to dread the sound. “That’s another thing. The buyer is in a hurry to take possession.”