“It’s not anything serious,” I reassure her with a weak smile. “I was doing some work at one of the boutiques today and a man came in with a pair of panties that a woman had left at his place.”
She crosses her legs, angling them toward me. She’s dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and an oversized red sweatshirt that’s the same hue as the T-shirt I have on. We both opted for comfortable tonight.
“I’m dying to find out what part of this you need advice on.” She laughs. “Unless you know the guy with the panties. He wasn’t an ex of yours, was he?”
I shake my head. “Hell, no.”
“So what happened?” She blinks.” What did he want?”
“The names of all the women who have bought a pair of black panties from Liore in the last few days.”
Her hand darts into the air. “I bought a pair from the Charming Collection at the boutique in Tribeca last Monday.”
Smiling, I narro
w my eyes at her. “You didn’t hook up with a man last night and steal his autographed Trey Hale baseball jersey, did you?”
“I wish.” She shoots me a look. “I wish I had hooked up with a man and I don’t need to steal a Hale jersey. If I want one, all I have to do is ask you to get one from your cousin for me.”
I glance at the television. “The autographed jersey was for the guy’s nephew. It was going to be a gift for his tenth birthday, but his one-night stand took off with it and left behind her panties.”
“I get it,” she says with a jerk of her chin. “You’re wondering if you should call Trey and ask for a new jersey for the nephew’s birthday. Is that it?”
“I don’t know this man.” I sigh and lean my head back on my plush vintage blue velvet couch. “He was so arrogant and rude. He threatened to go over my head at work because I wouldn’t help him track down his one-night stand. Part of me is wondering why I’m even considering doing him a favor.”
She taps my knee to get me to look at her. I do.
“The other part of you is thinking about how that boy will feel when he opens his birthday gift and finds an autographed Hale jersey.” She turns back to face the television. “You’re not doing Mr. Arrogant a favor. You’re making a ten-year-old crazy happy on his birthday.”
She’s right. I’ll find a way to get a new jersey to Alexander Donato. He never has to know that it came from me.
Chapter 3
Alexander
“When’s Monte due back in New York?”
My sister, Phoebe Costa, rolls her eyes. “Why do you insist on asking that question every time I invite you over for dinner?”
I push the empty plate in front of me to the side. “Why do you insist on avoiding the question?”
She’s twenty-eight-years-old, a mom, and a third-grade teacher, but my sister still knows exactly how to annoy the hell out of me. Her tried-and-true approach of answering a question with a question irritates me, which is why she’s become an expert at it.
“I don’t want Alvin to overhear this conversation.” She glances over her shoulder at her son’s closed bedroom door. “Imagine you’re an almost ten-year-old kid and your father can only carve out two days a month for you.”
I can’t imagine it. I don’t want Alvin to live it, but his dad is a truck driver. He’s on the road constantly to help put food on the kitchen table in this two-bedroom house in Queens.
Phoebe was pregnant before she graduated from high school. Monte never wavered in his commitment to her and their baby.
They got married at city hall, Phoebe pushed back her college start date by a semester and with the help of Monte’s family, they flourished.
I wasn’t around.
I was in Europe studying piano and cello. That morphed into a passion for conducting which took me on a whirlwind tour of the globe.
I offered my support in the form of birthday and Christmas gifts sent from wherever I was.
Getting to know my nephew is my priority now that I’m renting an apartment in Manhattan.