Outside, the rain had finally stopped. We wouldn’t have been able to see the stars above New York’s glow even if they had been there, but the cool, dry air was a welcome reprieve from the dank of the bar. I was a son of this city, but there were definitely days when I felt like it would strangle me.
Nina, however, started shivering almost immediately. She was tall and slim, with the build of a ballerina, so it was no surprise that the cold passed right through her.
“Can you walk a bit, doll?” I asked Nina as she hurried on a gray cashmere coat. “Might warm us up. I need a bite to eat after all that wine.”
“I—yes, I could eat. Somewhere close, though?” She looked at her feet. “I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid these shoes weren’t made for long treks.”
“Don’t ever apologize for those shoes.”
I was rewarded with another mild blush and a murmur of something like, “I’m glad you like them.” I took Nina’s hand, and for a split second, the cold disappeared as a shock of heat passed through my fingertips. Jesus, Mary, this was some kind of electricity.
Nina started as if she’d felt it too. Her bright eyes found mine, then drifted to my lips. For a moment, I considered kissing her. I’d wanted to for hours at that point, and I was pretty sure she wanted it as well. But she had a skittish quality that reminded me of the stray cats by my house, like if I took a step too soon, she’d bolt.
Instead, I raised her hand to examine it. Her skin was so fair, almost translucent. I could practically see her pulse moving. Slowly, I pressed a kiss over the lace of veins that crisscrossed just below her knuckles.
When I dropped our hands, she had her other one pressed to her shirt, as if to hold her heart in place. I couldn’t blame her. One brief touch, and mine was practically jumping out of my chest.
“You all right there, beautiful?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, I—I just thought…”
I cocked my head. “You thought what?”
She blinked, looking a bit embarrassed. “I thought you were going to kiss me.”
I knew it.
I shrugged. “I thought about it. But I figured I’d be a gentleman and wait until you asked.”
At that, amusement danced over her glossy features. “A gentleman from the Bronx,” she murmured.
“Well, Brooklyn, now.”
“Brooklyn?”
“I live in Red Hook. Closer to work than the Bronx.”
The side of Nina’s mouth quirked. “Red Hook comes from the Dutch, did you know that? It was one of the largest ports in New York until the 1960s. My family actually ran part of it until it closed.”
I cocked my head. “A little shipping family history?”
She blushed under the streetlight. “You could say that. Sorry, it must be rather dull for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
She shrugged.
“Nina?”
She looked up, and the uncertainty there just about killed me. I didn’t understand it—one moment, she seemed to have all the poise and confidence in the world, the next she was as shy as a small child. What caused something like that?
Where had Nina Astor come from?
Tentatively, I slipped a hand around her waist and guided her closer. Her breath grew just a bit coarser.
“Just so we’re clear,” I said, “you could read the damn phone book, and it would sound like Puccini to me.”
She blinked. “Is that a good thing? A lot of people don’t care for opera.”
“A lot of people are idiots.” I smiled. “Opera is the language of love, baby. It doesn’t get better than that.”
Again, her eyes drifted down to my mouth, and I found myself staring at hers too. It was such a beautiful thing, like two rose petals waiting to be parted. I found myself wondering what they would look like painted in red. For all her chilled beauty, Nina reminded me of a blank canvas, begging to be splashed with color.
Well, I thought as I considered the way she blushed under the right conditions, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.
I leaned in. A kiss, just one kiss. Its own kind of aperitivo, a precursor of what, God willing, might come another time, another day, maybe even another hour.
“Maybe I’m not such a gentleman after all,” I growled.
But before we made contact, Nina pressed a hand to my chest and stepped away. “I—we should eat.” She sounded like she had just run a mile rather than stared at my mouth for a solid thirty seconds.
I cocked my head. “You sure about that, doll? I can think of…other…things we might do.”
But she shook her head stubbornly. “No, no. You said you were hungry. I have to take care of you too, Matthew.”
Her shy smile melted my cold, Bronx-born heart. It was easy to be disillusioned with people in this city, even more so when you knew exactly what kind of filth lurked in its sewers. Maybe that was what was wrong with me tonight. I was so used to assuming everyone wanted something. If a stranger said “Hello,” my immediate reply was, “What do you want?” Maybe I needed a face like this, a smile like this, to remind me that light still existed in New York after all.
If that were the case, I could be patient. A woman like Nina was meant to be savored. Sipped like a fine wine.
And if she wanted to take care of me too, I was more than happy to let her.
We passed several restaurants on Orchard Street that seemed fine to me, but Nina took one look at the crowded interiors and shook her head.
“You know a lot of people usually indicates good food, right?” I joked after she turned down the fourth one.
She looked slightly embarrassed. “Yes, I do know that. I only—well, I’d prefer a bit of quiet. It’s hard to have a conversation when you’re trying to shout over a mob.”
Conversation, huh? Is that what we were doing here?
But I sensed she wasn’t interested in being teased, and instead allowed her to choose a place on Rivington that had only a few patrons, dim lighting, and a full bar. Well, if she wanted privacy, that was fine by me. I’d already informed her plainly that I wasn’t much of a prince.
“Do you like to share?” I asked as we opened the menus. It was a small plates restaurant, where the food was meant to be eaten family style instead of consumed separately.
Nina nodded. “I do. I never get to, but I do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Do you eat alone a lot?”
For a moment, her face shuttered. “I—yes. Yes, I do.”
Again, her response caused another unnecessarily strong bolt of anger. This was someone who should have admirers every night of the damn week. She should have a husband, a family, a whole host of people to come home to. Maybe I was benefiting from the fact that she was lonely, but it still pissed me off. I barely knew Nina Astor, but she didn’t deserve that.
We ordered an assortment of appetizers—Nina was open to anything—and a bottle of wine pricey enough that I’d be drinking nothing but free crap at Jamie’s for a month. This place wasn’t cheap, that was for sure, and Nina plainly enjoyed the finer things in life. But it was worth it. It was worth getting to watch her close her eyes and moan with pleasure every time she tried something new.
“You like to eat,” I observed sometime later.
Nina stilled with her napkin to her lips, like she’d been caught stealing cookies. The idea made me chuckle.
“Baby, you don’t need to be ashamed,” I said, batting her hand away. “I like watching you eat.” I picked up a prosciutto-wrapped date and held it out, urging her to take a bite.
She examined the date, then me, then obediently opened her mouth. I watched, entranced by the way her lips wrapped around the small bit of fruit, by the softness of their texture when they pressed against my finger. Jesus fuck, I wanted her to do that to something else. Something a bit bigger.
I popped the rest of the date into my mouth, enjoying the way her eyes opened wide at the sight.
“I just had my mouth all over that.”
I grinned. “Well, you haven’t let me kiss you, yet. It’s the next best thing.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Nina said, then sighed. “I have a feeling that if I spend more time with you, I’ll gain ten pounds in a week.”
“And I have a feeling you’d look like a queen either way,” I replied. “What next?”
She eyed the food, then forked a couple of asparagus spears onto her plate. “How did you end up in Red Hook?” she asked as she cut herself a bite.
“Well, I’ve lived in Brooklyn for almost…shit, seven years now,” I said. “Since I first started at the DA’s office. I was able to buy my house in Red Hook about five years ago, before the market really changed.”
“Even then it was shifting. It only took you two years to save a down payment?”
I shook my head. “We all got a bit from my grandfather when he passed. That, plus the benefits of a VA loan made it possible. But the house was still a shit hole. Took me five full years to make it livable, even with renters on the bottom floor to cover the mortgage. My sister and I shared a place in Sheepshead Bay until just last month, when we were able to move.”
“Your sister lives with you?”
I nodded as I tore off a bit of bread. “Yeah, with her daughter. They’re a pain in the ass sometimes, but she helps with the mortgage, and I feel good knowing my niece has a safe place to come home to, you know? Her dad ran off a while back. She needs a good man in her life.”
“Every child needs role models,” Nina said quietly, inordinately focused on her food. “It’s good of you to provide for them. Especially when she’s not yours.”
“She’s family. That’s what families do. Good ones, anyway.”
It didn’t occur to me until after I’d said it that it was a bit insensitive, given the story Nina had told me earlier. But I stood by it. Truthfully, my big family was just as dysfunctional as anyone’s. We just happened to love each other too.
For a moment, a part of me wanted to bring Nina home. If she came from a cold place, people who would just abandon each other at the drop of a hat, I wanted to warm her up with pasta and shouting and wine and people. Watch my sisters interrogate her over her clothes and hair, let the kids climb all over her with toys and sticky fingers, then have Nonna stuff her with amarettos until the she couldn’t eat another bite. There’s peace in certain kinds of chaos. I wanted Nina to know mine. For some reason, I thought she might like it.
Instead, I used a bit of bread to mop up broth left from a bowl of mussels, then popped it in my mouth. Nina watched with obvious desire. She had enjoyed most of the things we’d ordered, but I noticed she’d passed on the bread.
“Want a piece?” I asked, offering the baguette.
She shook her head. “Oh…”
“Come on, doll. You already broke your diet for me. The broth is amazing. You have to try it.”
She sighed with a doleful grin. “You’re a terrible influence.”
I smirked. “I’m the best, baby. Now, open up.”
She did, and I delivered another soaked morsel into her mouth.
“Ohhhhh, that’s so good,” she said after she swallowed. Her eyes closed with pleasure, and again, I had to adjust my pants. Good fuckin’ God, if that’s what she did when she ate, what would she sound like when she came?
I fully intended to find out. Tonight, if possible. Again and again, if she’d let me.
When her eyes opened, Nina almost looked drunk. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve eaten bread,” she admitted.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those no-carbs people,” I said as I tore off another piece and handed it to her.
She immediately dunked it in the bowl. “Clothes don’t fit themselves, you know. I cut out pretty much all gluten years ago. And sugar. And dairy.”
“No bread? Ice cream? Cheese? No pasta?” The idea was fuckin’ horrifying. “And you did that voluntarily?”
Nina giggled. “Gluten is very inflammatory.”
“Gluten is fuckin’ delicious.” I shook my head. “You’ll pry pasta out of my cold, dead hands. That’s it. Next time, we’re eating Italian. I’ll make it for you myself, and then you can’t say no.”
Her face fell a bit at the words “next time,” but she didn’t reply. Instead, almost as if to make me happy, she ate another piece of bread drenched in the leftover drippings from a bit of pork cheek. And really, really enjoyed it.
“Happy?”
My throat was suddenly very thick. “Ah, yes. Very. Now do it again.”
So she did. And I stared like it was an Oscar winning film while my pants became stupid tight and my appetite pretty much disappeared. Well, except for one thing.
“Nina,” I said. “What do you say we get the check?”
She swallowed, then looked at her plate. “I—I’m not quite finished.”
She picked up the wine and emptied the last of it into her glass. Was she trying to be coy? Did she think there was any point? Electricity was practically jumping off the table. It was time to go.
I reached across the table and took her hand, then drew my nails up her wrist. She inhaled sharply.
“You sure about that, doll?” I asked.
Nina blinked. Then, finally, she guzzled her wine like it was water and set it back on the table with clear intention.
I raised my hand. “Check, please.”