“Excuse me, miss.” The cheap suit guy is practically on top of Ava when I reach her. “There are no free tables. I was wondering if I could sit with you?”
“No,” I say succinctly. “You can’t.”
He shoots me a look. “Says who?”
I cock a brow. “Me. I literally just said it.”
Ava chuckles as her finger darts in the air. “I see a table opening up over there. Why don’t you grab it?”
The persistent schmuck staring at Ava jerks a thumb in my direction. “Are you talking to him or me?”
“You,” she answers. “Harry stays. You go.”
“What does Harry have that I don’t have?” He chuckles his way through that question.
“My attention,” Ava answers him. “You better hurry, or your table will be gone.”
He turns and walks away, muttering something about missing his chance.
Placing the shopping bag on the table, I sit on the empty chair next to Ava. “Thanks for the coffee, London.”
Her blue eyes sparkle when she smiles. “It’s my pleasure. You look nice today.”
I’ll take it and offer a compliment back because politeness is a thing we should all strive for. “Red really is your color, Ava.”
Her hand pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Can you stay for a bit, or do you need to take your coffee to go?”
At least a dozen things require my immediate attention, but I’m not going anywhere. “I’m staying.”
Her smile tells me that’s the correct answer, so I unbutton my suit jacket and take a sip of the coffee, never tearing my gaze from her face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ava
“Do you like being back in New York?” Harry asks as he takes a sip from the coffee I ordered for him. “Has the city changed much since you left?”
I sigh. “It’s nice to be back. It’s always changing, isn’t it? Last night I tried to order pizza from my favorite place, but their phone was disconnected. When I checked online, I found out that they went out of business two years ago.”
His brow furrows. “That happens too often.”
I nod. “I ended up ordering from another place, but it wasn’t good.”
“No?” He tilts his chin up. “There’s no pizza like a homemade one.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “That’s never on the menu. I can handle easy dishes, but something like pizza is out of my league.”
A chuckle falls from his lips. “I’ll make you a pizza sometime.”
It’s an empty promise tossed out during an innocent conversation. Since I left his house the other night, I’ve realized that he views me strictly as Sean’s sister. The best-case scenario is that there’s a friendship blossoming between us, but that’s all it is or will ever be.
I will myself to accept that as I inhale another breath and take in the scent of his cologne.
It’s as masculine as the rest of him, right down to the sharp cut of his jawline and the size of his hands.
I tear my gaze away from him and look into my coffee cup. “I was surprised when Sean mentioned that you own Food Harmony. I thought you were into software or something.”
He smiles. “I am, or my grandfather was. The doors are still open on the stores he founded and the software company. I have a few other things on the go too.”
“Like what?” I ask without hesitation.
He bites his bottom lip to hold in a smile. “Nothing exciting. I co-own a vineyard and a cruise ship line. There’s a chain of pet supply stores in my portfolio and a few miscellaneous small enterprises.”
It’s impressive to me, but he seems uncomfortable with the admission.
“What about you, Ava?” he seamlessly changes the subject, shifting the focus to me. “Sean mentioned you’re attending school in London.”
“I was,” I admit. “I’m on break now.”
Without shifting his gaze from me, he drinks from his cup. “You’re something of a piano prodigy, aren’t you? I recall Sean boasting about that from the moment I met him. In case you’re wondering, he hasn’t stopped with that.”
I smile, thinking about all of Sean’s encouragement when I was younger. Each time I had to perform in a recital, he was there to tell me how great I would be. It didn’t matter what was going on in his life, he made time to be seated in the front row. Almost always, Declan was by his side.
That changed when I moved to London, but I expected as much. The days of the Sunday afternoon recitals were behind me, and they had a growing business in front of them.
“I wouldn’t say that.” I look into his eyes. “I’m good at it. It comes naturally.”
He nods. “And you enjoy it?”
I agree with a hum before I take a drink of my coffee.
“Did you ask to play the piano when you were a kid, or was it pushed on you?”
I wasn’t expecting the question, but the answer comes easily. “I wanted to learn how to play. I saw a man in Times Square playing piano when I was five. I was completely enthralled. That day I asked my mom if I could take lessons. I had my first one the very next day.”