“Can I steal Eva away for a moment?” I ask as I place my hand on her lower back.
“She’s all yours. I’ve gotta go check on the demo crew anyway.”
I lead Eva off to the corner of the room, not sure what I’m going to say next. She spins around and stops before we make it all the way, placing her hand in front of her, which forces me to halt.
“Care to explain what that was all about?”
There is no warmth on her face. No hint of the woman who laughs too loud or rolls her eyes at me with a grin. I always thought it didn’t matter whether someone liked me or not. Eva is the exception to that.
Seeing her look at me like she’s done giving me the benefit of the doubt, like I might not be able to come back from this, it cracks something inside of me.
“I just don’t want to see my project manager distracted by a beautiful woman at work. This is the most important renovation of his career. He needs to focus.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “What makes you think he was distracted?”
My shoulders knot up near my ears. She must know he’s flirting with her. I’ve seen him interact with plenty of people, male and female. He doesn’t look at any of them like he does her.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Eva. I know you’re smarter than that. He flirts with you, and from what I can tell, you flirt back.”
She holds her chin up high. “What if we were flirting? Are you telling me that it bothers you?”
“If you have something to say, just come out and say it. I don’t play games, Eva.”
“Fine. You want to know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking you all but pushed me out of your apartment last night, afraid you might feel something, and now you can’t handle the fact that you might actuallylikeme.”
Her honesty creates a slight crack in my armor. “It’s not about that at all,” I reply, not ready to admit the truth to her or myself. “All I’m concerned about is making sure my employees are acting professional and staying focused on what I’m paying them to do.”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead. Her eyebrows narrow, and her nostrils flare.
She pulls her shoulders back and holds her head up high. “I apologize, Mr. Bertini. I assure you; this project has my full attention.”
With that, she walks away and opens the door to the construction zone after she puts on a hard hat.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Last night was a mistake. I can’t let it distract me from this project. I came here to see how it was looking, and then I need to head to the office. The moredistance I put between myself and the construction, the better. The time away from Eva could give me the clarity I desperately need now.
Chapter Sixteen
Eva
It’s been weeks since I’ve seen Roman. Ever since he confronted me in the lobby and basically accused me of flirting with Drew. We’ve texted and emailed regarding matters of work, but we have not spoken about what happened between us.
I know he’s avoiding me, and I’m not going to tolerate someone running from me. If he doesn’t want to admit that he has feelings for me, that’s on him.
Meanwhile, I’m doing what I can to distract myself. Drew and I have been working closely together the last couple of weeks to get the schedule laid out for our construction phases. I’ve begun ordering the furniture that will take some time before it can be delivered.
Is Drew a bit of a flirt? Sure. But I honestly don’t think it would be any different if it were any other woman standing in front of him. He’s funny, and I like being around him.
He’s not like Roman, who can only let loose behind the closed door of my apartment. My chest tightens at just the thought ofRoman. Drew might be the funny, laid-back one, but he’s not the one who makes my heart beat faster when I think of him. Roman can make my body feel things I didn’t know were possible.
I shake my head in frustration.
“What’s happening?” My mother waves her hand at me. “I lost you.”
I look around at my parents’ home, decorated perfectly. Although Ma would never let me decorate it for her. She still doesn’t take my work seriously. I’ve never confronted her with just how much it hurts.
Pamela Harlow, a woman of considerable prestige, disapproves of her daughter working like the average woman in society. She thinks we’re above the working class. So, she’d rather have another woman, one she thinks less of, design her home than her own daughter.
I smile softly at her. “Sorry, Mother. I was just thinking about …” I pause, but she cuts me off.