Chapter 6

 

 

At home, Ramsey followed up on emails while eating pretzel chips and fresh guacamole dip made by Carson, his butler whom he liked to refer to as his personal assistant. He didn’t want to indulge in a full lunch since he’d planned on eating dinner with Gianna this evening.

He glanced at the clock. The time was 1:45 p.m. and she still hadn’t called him. Given her shy nature, he didn’t expect her to but it would’ve been nice if she had pushed herself beyond her own limitations to make an effort to talk to him. At least then, he’d know she was interested. Now, he had to sit and wait until 3:30 since he’d already made up his mind that if he didn’t hear from her by then, he’d be right back at the bakery. The bakery closed at 7:00 p.m. and was a forty-five-minute drive away from his house. That would give him at least two hours to spend with her.

To pass the time, he replied to a bunch of emails. He followed up with Ralph and Gilbert about the University City excavation. Ralph reassured him that the new crew would start on Monday. He set an appointment reminder on his phone to be at the site Monday morning.

The ringing of his cell phone took him out of his email-answering marathon. Could it be her? Hoping that it was, he picked up the phone and looked at the display. He sighed. It wasn’t her. His brother, Regal, was the caller.

His brother!

He was supposed to pick up Regal from the airport two hours ago. Regal had been in Paris finishing out their business there – meeting with a company who wanted to hire St. Claire Architects to design a new twelve-story structure in the United States for their unique fashion line, and they wanted the business based in Charlotte. Picking Regal up from the airport would’ve given them time to talk face-to-face about the project, especially since they still hadn’t decided whether or not to take the Paris gig.

“Regal,” Ramsey answered. “I completely forgot to pick you up.”

“And this is the very reason I told you we need to hire drivers. We’re at that level now, Ram. It’s not like we can’t afford it. I had to take an Uber home.”

Ramsey grinned. “You called an Uber?”

“I did. It’s a good service to use, especially when your brother—the one who’s so anal, he usually never forgets anything—forgets to pick you up from the airport.”

“Why didn’t you remind me, man?”

“Because I usually don’t have to. What’s got you so preoccupied?”

Ramsey frowned a little. He had been distracted by Gianna, but that was a good distraction. It was the nonsense with Wedded Bliss that had him off balance in addition to the delays with the University City project. “It’s nothing, Regal. I’m good.”

“Are you sure about that?” Regal asked.

Out of all of his brothers, he was the closest with Regal and Regal always seemed to know when something was up. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Some of the guys from the office said you were on a warpath.”

Ramsey blew a breath. “Yeah, well they ain’t seen a warpath yet. If they would do their jobs, they wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“What happened this time?”

“I’ll tell you about it later. Then you can catch me up to speed with the Paris deal.”

“Alright. Hit me up when you get time.”

“Yep,” Ramsey responded. He ended the call, placing the cell phone on his desk.

With a folded hand, he held up his chin while looking at the phone, tapping his fingers on his desktop. Cupcake lady hadn’t called yet, and he was growing more frustrated by the passing seconds. He couldn’t roll up to the bakery with this level of frustration, so he decided to go for a run to burn off some stress. He’d normally work out in his scenic home gym, but the sunshine beckoned him outside, so he obeyed and went. Running would give him time to think about his out-of-nowhere obsession with Gianna.

While he ran, he thought about how she wasn’t necessarily the type of woman who’d capture his attention. It was true what he told Felicity – he didn’t have preferences per se – especially superficial ones – because he preferred to know a woman inside before ever analyzing whether or not he liked the outside which was usually a given had she passed his inner examination. But since losing Leandra, he never had a draw to examine a woman’s heart or get to know her the way he wanted to know Gianna. And she had behaviors that would annoy him under normal circumstances. She was timid and jumpy—easily flustered and somewhat scatterbrained. And there were things about her that he couldn’t quite understand. Like why would a woman who owned a struggling bakery just hand away cupcakes? There was no business sense in giving away goods whether you were struggling or not. And where was the company’s website, Facebook page or Instagram account with mouthwatering images of her cupcakes? Cupcakes that, in his opinion, were sorely underpriced? How could she not know the value and true worth of her product? Then there was the woman herself. Who was she? He needed to know more to help him understand why she had consumed his thoughts from the moment they’d met. The connection was instant, only she hadn’t felt it. But he had, and he still did.

 

 

By the time he returned home, he had just enough time to take a quick shower. Then he dressed in a pair of jeans and a burgundy polo.

“Shall I expect you home for dinner, Ramsey?” Carson asked. The fifty-five-year-old black man with a head of gray-black hair was a little shorter than Ramsey and knew how to do it all when it came to the maintenance of the house and caring for menial tasks that Ramsey didn’t have the time or patience to concern himself with. And Carson cooked the most delicious meals. Now that he knew and understood Ramsey’s eating habits, likes and dislikes, he would prepare whatever he chose without having to ask Ramsey what he wanted.

“No, Carson. I’ll eat dinner before I return.”

“Are there any pertinent matters you need handled before your return?”

“Yes. This isn’t pressing but can you arrange to have all the windows cleaned inside and out? I know it was just done a week ago, but they don’t look clean enough for me. Try a new cleaning agency this time. Any day of the week is fine with me.” Ramsey was a stickler for a clean house. For overall organization period.

“Yes. I’ll get right on it. Enjoy your evening, Ramsey.”

“You do the same, Carson.”

On the way to the car, Ramsey checked his phone again. Still, no calls from Gianna. He didn’t get it. Normally, women jumped at the chance to call him. Women jumped at the chance to do anything concerning him, but Gianna hadn’t bothered. Now, she wouldn’t have to.

 

* * *

 

He pulled up at the bakery and through the front window, he could see that the place was barren. Bad for her. Good for him. It would give them more time to finish where they’d left off this morning.

When he walked in, the annoying doorbell tinkled but she was nowhere in sight.

“Hello? Anybody home?” he called out.

“Just a sec,” she yelled from the back.

He couldn’t see her, but he heard her. And then she came strolling to the front still wearing the black, flour-dusted apron from this morning, carrying a large box of cupcakes.

When Gianna looked up and saw that it was Ramsey, her breath caught in her throat and she lost all control of her own body. Her hands joggled, and the box slipped right through her fingers, crashing to the floor.

“Crap!” she yelled. She stooped down to clean up the mess. Lemon cupcakes spilled out everywhere.

“Here. Let me help you with that,” Ramsey said, coming to her aid by inviting himself behind the counter.

“No, I got it,” she said irritably. Frowning, she asked, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“What are you doing carrying two dozen cupcakes?”

“It’s my job. It’s not like they’re heavy.”

“Then why’d you drop the box?”

Because you make me nervous. That’s why. “Because you startled me.”

“How did I startle you when I announced my arrival?”

“I thought you were the customer coming to pick them up. That’s why I was bringing the box to the front,” she said, tossing more ruined cupcakes into the box that she now had to throw away. “Now, I have to rush to frost another twenty-four cupcakes before my customer arrives, which is any minute now. I hate rushing…I can’t stand feeling anxious. Every single day of my life I’m a mess and now you come bothering me all the time. I need to work. I need to focus. I can’t focus with you around,” she said tossing the last cupcake inside of the box.

Ignoring her, he said, “I’ll help you frost more cupcakes, okay. Just show me what to do.”

Gianna sighed heavily with reddened, clammy cheeks. “I got it.” She took the box of mangled cupcakes to the trash, then washed her hands and began frosting the extras she’d baked. Thank goodness she had. Otherwise, she would have a disappointed customer and with business already slow, she couldn’t afford to lose any of her catering customers.

Walking up behind her, Ramsey said, “Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Oh, goodness,” she said, her pulse quickening since she was unaware that he was standing so close to her. “Okay. If you want to help, can you clean up that mess?” Gianna asked, pointing to the yellow icing on the ceramic tiled floor.

“Sure,” he said. “I’m really sorry about this.”

Ramsey found his way around the kitchen, grabbed paper towels and cleaned up the frosting from the floor.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Gianna told him. “I mop the floors before I leave.”

“Okay,” he said, but continued cleaning up the area until it was no longer slippery. He threw the dirty paper towels in the garbage and washed his hands. Then he stood a few feet away from Gianna, watching as she rushed to add lemon frosting to more cupcakes while holding something that looked like a bag with a metal tip on it, squeezing the frosting out. He could see that her hands were still unsteady, but she was forcing them as steady as she could hold them in order to finish adding the frosting.

“Why did you drop the box, Gianna?” he asked.

“I told you…you scared me. I didn’t expect to see you here, at least not during this time of the day. And you have on normal clothes.”

His forehead creased. “And that scared you?”

Ugh. Leave me alone and stop asking so many questions so I can concentrate. “I told you I’m a train wreck. Why are you here, anyway?”

“I knew you wouldn’t call me. That’s why I’m here.”

She glanced over at him, her darkened eyes filled with irritation. Had he stayed home or wherever he was before deciding to show up here, she wouldn’t have to work twice as hard for the same amount of pay. “Well, I have to finish up this order and customers are not allowed in the kitchen.”

Ramsey threw his palms up. “Okay. Fine.” He strolled back to the front and sat at his usual table when a woman came inside.

Gianna hoped the bell was the sound of Ramsey leaving. When she peeped and saw a customer standing at the register and Ramsey sitting at a table, she sighed. She walked to the checkout counter.

“Hey, there,” Gianna said, greeting her customer.

“Hi. I came for the six-dozen, lemon cupcakes.”

“Okay. I’m actually frosting the last dozen.”

“Oh. I thought they would’ve been ready by now.”

“Almost. Just five more minutes, okay. I’m really sorry about the delay.”

“Okay. Not a problem.”

Gianna returned to the kitchen to resume frosting the last few then carefully began placing them all in a new box, two at a time. She brought two boxes to the front counter, followed by the third one she had to remake thanks to Ramsey.

“Okay,” she said sounding breathless. After plugging the figures in the cash register, she said, “With tax, your total comes to $199.53.”

Holding her wallet in her left hand, the woman slid out a credit card and handed it to Gianna.

After swiping it, Gianna handed it back to her, then gave her a pen so she could sign the receipt. “Thank you, and again, I apologize for the delay.”

“No problem, dear,” the woman said, placing her wallet back inside of her purse.

“Can I help you take these out to your car?”

“If you don’t mind,” the woman responded.

“No. Not at all.” Gianna picked up one of the boxes again.

Ramsey tried not to stare, he really tried, but he couldn’t help himself. She already looked nervous and her hands were shaking again. To ease her nerves, he stood up and walked to the door, holding it open for the women. Then he followed them outside and down the sidewalk to the woman’s car.

“You got it?” he asked Gianna, walking directly behind her.

“Yes. I got it this time,” she replied.

The customer unlocked the doors to a silver, Toyota, RAV4.

“I’ll get the door for you,” Ramsey said. “Front or back?”

“I’m just going to sit them on the back seat,” the customer responded.

Ramsey opened the back door and the woman lowered two boxes on the back seat. She looked at Gianna and asked, “It is okay if I stack them, correct?”

“Yes. The boxes are sturdy. They won’t give.”

“Perfect,” she said as Gianna handed her the third box. “Thank you so much. The kids are going to love these.”

“You’re welcome,” Gianna said. “Have a good evening.”

“You do the same.”

With that, Gianna walked back toward the bakery with Ramsey falling in stride beside her.

“I can’t get a thank-you-for-helping-me, Ramsey?” he asked her.

He was the one who caused her this extra work and stress. Now, he wanted a thank you? Seriously? She rolled her eyes. “Thank you for helping me, Ramsey,” she said, reaching for the door handle until he clutched her dainty wrist and lowered her arm.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He snatched his hand away from her. “Sorry for touching you. I just wanted to open the door. When a lady is accompanied by a man, she’s not supposed to open her own door.” He pulled the door handle then said, “After you.”

“Thanks.” She stepped inside and glanced at the clock: 4:50 p.m. She had roughly two hours before closing. She walked behind the counter and put her customer’s signed receipt in the correct compartment of the cash register.

“Am I still not allowed back there?” Ramsey asked.

“No, you’re not,” she said, trying to keep an even tone and expressionless face so Ramsey wouldn’t know he was actually getting to her.

He leaned against the checkout counter. “Your hands are not steady,” he said.

“I’m tired. I’ve been on my feet most of the day.”

“Have you had anything to eat?”

“Uh…I don’t typically eat breakfast and I was so busy at lunch, I just skipped it.”

“Well, you need to eat and since you won’t go out to dinner with me, I’ll bring dinner to you.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I—I have closing work to do here and I don’t have time to have dinner.” With you.

Ramsey checked his watch. “You close at seven, right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s only five o’clock and don’t worry about your closing work. I’ll help you out.”

“I don’t need your help, Ramsey.”

“I’m going to help you, anyway.”

Exasperated, Gianna asked, “Will you stop?” She looked up from the register and connected her gaze to his. “Why are you harassing me?”

He frowned and darted his head back. Was she serious? “I’m not harassing you. I’m offering my help to you.”

“Well, I don’t need your help. I didn’t ask for your help. This is my bakery. Mine. And I do not want to have dinner with you. I don’t know how much clearer I can be.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then silently turned and walked away.

Finally, Gianna thought, trying to steady her beating heart while breathing a sigh of relief. After a long, stressful day, she didn’t want to feel her nerves being wrecked because of his unwanted attention. It was bad enough she didn’t know how to behave around him. Around any man for that matter. She’d never had to concern herself with this kind of attention before and she didn’t want to do it now.

Returning to the kitchen, she packed up the leftover cupcakes to drop them off at the homeless shelter. The ones in the display case would remain there until closing just in case she had any more customers. If not, she’d pack them up as well. She never carried cupcakes over to the next day. Each day, she made a fresh batch.

As she finished packing up the final box, two dozen total of all different flavors, she heard the doorbell again. She walked to the front to greet the customer when she saw that it was Ramsey again. He placed a white, plastic bag with two takeout containers on the table – his favorite table. Her stomach bottomed out when he looked at her with dark, deep black eyes and smiled.

“Do you not understand the meaning of the word, ‘no’?”

“I understand that you haven’t eaten, which means your blood sugar is lower than what it should be. That’s why your hands are unsteady. Why you’re moody.”

“I’m not moody.”

“You are. You said you’ve been on your feet all day. I’m giving you the opportunity to sit down and have a meal with me.”

Gianna pondered his reasoning. He took it upon himself to bring her some dinner and she didn’t want to be rude. Still, she was annoyed. “Fine.” Reluctantly, she walked over to the table and sat down.

Ramsey took a takeout tray from the bag and set it in front of her.

“It smells good. What is it?”

“It’s Vietnamese food – noodles, pork spring rolls, and grilled shrimp. I got it from that Vietnamese restaurant right across the boardwalk bridge.”

“The bridge by the Hilton Hotel?”

“No. The bridge by the paddle boat rental. It’s called Saigon Bay. Have you ever eaten there?”

“No. I’m not all that adventurous when it comes to food or anything else. I stick to what I know and leave it at that.”

“Well, that’s no fun.”

When she heard her phone buzz, she took it from a pocket on her apron and saw the text from her sister.

 

Gemma: No need to rush home. Felicity brought me some soup.

 

Gianna smiled, relieved. Still, she couldn’t wait to get home and check on her sister. She glanced up at Ramsey. “Excuse me a moment.”

“Take your time,” he said then leaned back in the chair watching her as she texted. He wouldn’t touch his food until she put her phone away. He wanted her full attention.

 

Gianna: Good. Are you feeling okay?”

Gemma: Yes, for the 10th time today, Gianna. I think this is a new record. Stop worrying so much.

Gianna: It’s my job to worry!! I love u 2 pieces.

 

After inserting an emoji face blowing a kiss, she sent the message and placed her phone back inside the pocket on her apron and looked up at Ramsey. He was staring at her intently, so much so that she shied away.

“Everything alright?” he asked. He couldn’t help but wonder who she was texting.

“Yep.” She opened the tray and tasted the food. “Mmm…good,” she said after trying the shrimp, eating faster to ease hunger pangs.

Ramsey purposely didn’t say a word. He wanted her to eat to her satisfaction before conversation ensued.

“Did I thank you for bringing this?” she mumbled with a mouth full.

“No,” he answered, biting into a pork spring roll afterward.

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Gianna,” he told her. This early dinner was going to be an awkward one if he couldn’t get her to open up to him, or at the very least have a conversation that involved more than a few words here and a few there.

“And, FYI, your whole low blood sugar theory is not why I dropped that box,” she said.

His eyebrows raised. “It’s not?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you drop it?”

“I told you why. It’s because you make me nervous.”

“Explain,” he said. His dark eyes narrowed in anticipation of her response. He knew very well what his presence did to women. It happened too often for him not to recognize it.

“I don’t know how to explain it exactly. It’s just your presence. Your intense dark eyes. Your lips. Your smell. Your everything. You make me nervous. Being around you makes me uneasy. You’re very intimidating, Ramsey, at least to a woman like me, but somehow I’m sure I’m not the first woman to tell you this.”

“Actually you are,” he said wiping his mouth with a white napkin.

“No way.”

“Way. Other women may think it, but they’ve never come out and just said it, like you.”

“Oh. Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth closed, then.”

“No. Your honesty is refreshing. What else don’t you like about me?”

She giggled. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

“You certainly didn’t say that you did.”

“I know…I guess what I’m saying is, it’s a lot easier for me not to be around you. I’m not used to this much attention from a man.”

“Now that I don’t believe. You mean to tell me men don’t try to get your attention?”

She smiled. “I’m flattered, Ramsey. Really. But take a good look at me. Have you ever heard the expression ‘hot mess’?”

He grinned. “I have.”

“Well, that’s me. I’m a mess. This is what I look like six days a week.”

Staring at her, he couldn’t see her point. There was something there…something that he could almost feel deep within her that made her the sweet, beautiful woman he wanted to know.

“Ramsey?”

He blinked. “Sorry. I was lost in thought. But, as I was saying…you can’t convince me that men don’t try to come on to you.”

“They do. Men come in here all the time—handsome men, businessmen, blue collar workers—but none of them has ever made me as anxious and nervous as you make me.”

A curious glow shone in his eyes. “Why do you think that is?”

Gianna shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She glanced up at him, catching the straight line of his nose and his perfectly shaped mustache before looking back down at her plate.

“So, that’s why you won’t go out to dinner with me?”

“Yes. Part of it.”

“What’s the other part?” he probed, closing his takeout container.

“I have obligations.”

“The bakery?”

“Yes, and more.”

“Like what?” he asked and didn’t care if she heard the desperation in his voice. “Do you have children?”

Gianna snorted then covered her mouth with her hand while she laughed.

Ramsey’s gaze narrowed. “No?”

“Definitely not,” she said, amused. “You have to have sex to have children and I’ve never—” Her voice faded, and she stopped speaking when she realized she’d said too much.

Ramsey frowned not believing what she said, or was about to say, but why would she have a reason to lie about it? “So, no children?”

“No. No children,” she said, although Gemma felt like a child at times. She’d been taking care of her for as long as she could remember.

“Then what other obligations do you have? Your sister?”

Gianna grimaced. Was he reading her thoughts or what? He was staring hard enough to be able to.

Ramsey knew he’d hit a nerve. Something was up with her sister. He wanted to know what it was. “Gianna?”

“Um…it’s personal.” Diverting, she said, “I don’t understand why you want to have dinner with me. And I don’t get why you’re here like you have nothing better to do with your time.”

“I own my own business. I decide how I spend my time. Right now, I’m spending it with you.”

“Why?” she asked then nervously chewed on her bottom lip.

His eyes settled there and he couldn’t help but wonder if those lips had ever been kissed. If they felt as soft as they looked. Forcing his gaze away from her lips to her eyes, he responded, “Because I find you interesting, Gianna.”

Gianna shook her head. “I’m not all that interesting. I bake cupcakes. Nothing about that is proprietary and definitely isn’t appealing enough to interest an architect who owns and operates a million-dollar company.”

Ramsey’s narrowed gaze turned into a glare. He just wasn’t accustomed to being talked to this way, but she could get away with it. And he did owe her an explanation so he said, “Okay. I’m here because there’s something about you—some force pulling me to you for some reason.”

Gianna lifted a brow. “Say what?”

Explaining further, he said, “From the moment I met you yesterday, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I wasn’t supposed to walk into this bakery, but on my way to a property, I drove here, parked out front and walked right into your bakery. Now, usually I would just run through the drive-thru at the Starbucks down the street for coffee, but I came here, parked and got out.”

“You must’ve come to the boardwalk for a specific reason.”

“No, I didn’t. That’s what I’m trying to explain to you. When I stepped out of my car, I saw the coffee sign on your window, so I came inside and a feeling came over me. I saw you on the phone and when you turned around, when my eyes connected with yours, that feeling intensified.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. You don’t believe the universe has a way of making sure certain people connect?”

“Yes. It’s called Facebook.” She grinned.

Smiling, he said, “You know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean, but uh—” Gianna stammered, not knowing how to answer his question. If the universe did have a way of making sure people connected why was it him being connected with her?

“Well, I do. I’m here for a reason. I want to find out what that reason is, Gianna.”

“I—I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“A lil’ bit,” she admitted, cracking a small smile. “Um, wow. Okay.” She stood up. “I have to get this place cleaned up so—”

“I’ll help you,” he said standing, gathering their food trays and napkins. “What do you need me to do?”

She smiled. “Ramsey, I can handle this. I do this every day.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Okay, since you insist…can you flip the sign on the front door to Closed and lock the door for me?”

“Sure.”

While he handled that task, she took their trash and disposed of it in the garbage can in the back.

She checked the ovens, making sure they were turned off. She wiped down the counters and took the dishes from the dishwasher. Holding a pot in her hand, she turned around to see Ramsey standing immediately behind her. The pot slipped from her grasp and he caught it before it hit the floor.

“How long were you standing there?” she asked, her heart beating out of control.

“For a few minutes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I like watching you work. Where does this pot go?”

Gianna pointed to the hook on the wall.

Ramsey hung it there, then looked at her. “I don’t like you being so nervous around me.”

“I don’t know you that well.”

“And you won’t get to know me if you refuse to talk to me,” he told her.

“We just had an hour-long conversation.”

“Yes, but I need more time with you.”

“More? I don’t have time for anything more.”

“What do you want me to do, sweet thang? Beg?”

She grinned knowing he got the ‘sweet thang’ nickname from Jerry. “You look like the kind of man who doesn’t have to beg for anything.”

“You’re right, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

Gianna shook her head.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night, Gianna, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

She chewed on her lip again.

“Say yes,” he whispered, his sable eyes fixated on her mouth.

“Okay,” she said. “Yes.”

“You’re not just saying that to get rid of me, are you?”

She smiled. “No. We can have dinner tomorrow.”

“Good.” He took out his wallet and removed two one-hundred dollar bills, placing it in her hand. “This should cover the box of cupcakes you dropped.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary, Ramsey,” she said, handing it back to him.

“It is. You’re running a business, and since it was my fault you dropped the box, I owe you.”

“But—”

“I’m not taking it back,” he cut her off to say.

“Okay,” she said, sliding the bills in the front right pocket of her pants. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else you need to do before leaving?”

“Yes. I need to sweep and mop the floors.”

“How about I sweep and you mop?”

Gianna smiled. “You’re going to sweep?”

“Yes. I know how to sweep.”

“I don’t doubt that. You just look like the kind of man who doesn’t sweep.”

“I don’t, usually, but I’ll make an exception for you. Now, do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

Ramsey took the broom and dust pan to the front and when he was done, Gianna mopped the area.

After sweeping the kitchen, Ramsey took it upon himself to take out the garbage while Gianna finished mopping.

“Is that all, boss?” he asked jokingly.

“Yes. That’s all. You can exit out the back with me and walk around the corner to your car.”

“That’s fine. In fact, I’d prefer to walk you to your car.” He headed for the door and opened it, allowing her to exit first.

Once he was outside, Gianna locked the rear door and made sure it was secure.

“Where are you off to now?” he asked, sliding his thumb inside the pockets of his jeans.

“I’m going home. What about you?”

“I’ll probably swing by my brother’s place.”

Her eyes lit up. “You have a brother?”

“I have three brothers, actually.”

“Older or younger?”

He smiled. “See, this is why we need to see each other again. You want to know more about me, too. I don’t know why you were trying to front like you won’t feelin’ me.”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks. “I just asked a simple question.”

“They’re all younger than me,” he said, answering her question. “What about your sister? Older or younger?”

“She’s younger.”

“What’s her name?”

“Gemma.”

“Gianna and Gemma,” he said. “Sounds like a pair of troublemakers.”

She smiled. “We’re everything but—” she responded, looking down at her shoes feeling somewhat embarrassed by the ability he had to make her blush so hard. “What about your brothers? What are their names?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re at dinner.”

Her mouth fell open. “No fair.”

“It is fair. It was like pulling teeth to get you to say yes to dinner. Now, we have something to talk about when we get there, you know, so it’s not awkward for you.”

“I guess,” she said.

“I need your number,” he said, handing her his phone. “Key it in for me, please.”

She did and pressed send afterward. Then her phone rang. “There you go.”

When she handed him his phone back, Ramsey saved her number under ‘Cupcake’ in his contacts, smiling after he did so. “I probably won’t get a chance to come by here tomorrow. I have a thing with the folks, so—”

“Oh. No need to explain.”

“It probably comes as a relief to you anyway, huh?”

She grinned. “Yes. It does.”

He laughed at her honesty.

“Anyway, I have to get going now. Thanks for your help today, Ramsey.”

“Anytime, Gianna.”

They stood facing each other awkwardly for a few seconds until Gianna turned away to unlock her car door.

Ramsey reached around her to grasp the handle, opening it for her. “I’ll call you later,” he said.

“Okay,” she replied as she sat down.

“When I do, I want you to answer.”

She smiled harder. “I will.”

“Promise me.”

“What?” she asked, looking up at him.

“You seem like a woman of your word. Promise me.”

“O-kay. I promise. I will answer the phone when you call.”

“Alright. Drive safe.” Ramsey finally closed the door, then watched her start the SUV and drive away.