Moonstruck In Manhattan. Cara Summers

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СКАЧАТЬ reached for her hands. “I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful, Aunt Miranda. I know that you really had to go to bat for me with the board. They can’t have liked all the job-hopping I’ve done since law school.”

      “You don’t need to thank me. What might look like job-hopping to some looks entirely different to me. I’m sure that while you were consulting for those newspapers in San Francisco, Chicago and Atlanta, you were gaining experience and making contacts that will prove very valuable to Metropolitan.”

      Zach’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. “What makes you think that?”

      Miranda squeezed his fingers before releasing them. “I’ve known you since you were a little boy. Even then you were a planner—never making a move until you weighed all the options. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve planned for the magazine. It’s been going downhill since your father became ill, I’m afraid.”

      “I’m going to make changes—in the focus, even in the intended audience.”

      Miranda threw back her head and laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

      Zach leaned toward her. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, but Dad would never have allowed it. He always thought power lay in the hands of the government. But the real power is in ideas. I want Metropolitan to become a forum where the respected writers and thinkers of our time can discuss ideas.”

      Miranda lifted her water glass in a toast. “Then go to it. And see if you can catch the eye of our waiter. We should be toasting this with the drinks we ordered.”

      Zach shifted his gaze to the bar and stared. The bartender had his hand up the woman’s skirt again. “Look at that. Someone should put a stop to it.”

      “TURN ONCE MORE,” Daryl said, fastening a final piece of tape in place. “There. That should do it.”

      Taking a step back, Chelsea glanced from Daryl to Ramón. “What do you think?”

      “I need to get back to my soufflé,” Ramón said.

      “I think I’m falling in love,” Daryl said.

      Chelsea stared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t.”

      “Not with you, sweetie. It’s this fabric. It’s quite unique. It looks black at first, but there’s a thread running through it that reflects the light.” He rubbed the material between his fingers.

      Chelsea heard someone draw in a deep breath. Raising her eyes, she saw that Pierre, the maître d’, had raised his hand to his chest as if he’d just taken a blow. He was still staring at her with a bemused expression on his face. “Miss, I…”

      Just then, she felt Daryl lift her skirt again. Glancing down, she saw that his head had disappeared beneath it.

      “Daryl! What are you doing?”

      “I have to know what material this is.” Daryl’s voice was muffled. “There has to be a tag somewhere with care instructions.”

      “Enemy approaching at one o’clock,” Ramón announced.

      Chelsea glanced up to see that Pierre was still staring at her. Beyond him, the scowling man was doing more than stare. He was striding across the bar toward them.

      Quickly, she reached out and grabbed her coat from the stool. “Get up, Daryl. I don’t want to get you and Ramón in trouble.”

      Daryl pulled his head out from beneath her skirt and made a quick assessment of the situation. “I think I’ll stay right here. It’s harder to hit a man when he’s already on his knees.”

      Daryl had it right. The tall stranger certainly looked as if he wanted to hit someone. Quickly, she tried to shrug into her coat.

      “Are you crazy?” Daryl said under his breath. “Don’t cover up that skirt.”

      “What do you mean?” Chelsea asked.

      “Take a look at Pierre. He’s clearly smitten. Let’s hope it works its spell on the white knight who is riding to your rescue.” Picking up the edge of the skirt, Daryl waved it in the approaching stranger’s direction.

      “Stop that,” Chelsea hissed.

      When Daryl didn’t drop her skirt, the man said, “The lady asked you to stop that.”

      2

      CHELSEA FELT the soft brush of the skirt against her leg as Daryl released it, but the rest of her attention was totally focused on the man who stood three feet away. Though she was aware of the rugged good looks—the dark hair that grew past his collar and the nearly faded scar on his chin—her eyes never once left his.

      They were the dark blue color of sapphires and right now there was a look in them that spelled danger. Beneath the sleek lines of that designer suit, this was a man poised for a fight.

      The other men sensed it, too. Daryl shifted on his knees, Ramón swung around the end of the bar and Pierre cleared his throat. “Sir…”

      “Come here.”

      Chelsea took a step forward, responding to the command in the stranger’s voice before the words even fully registered in her mind. Immediately, a nightmare began to unfold before her. Rising to his feet in one smooth movement, Daryl assumed an attack stance.

      “Back off, buddy,” Ramón said, springing from one foot to the other just the way he did when he was working out in the boxing ring at the gym. “The lady’s with us.”

      “Guys,” Chelsea began. Not one of them so much as glanced her way.

      “I don’t like to see women fondled in public,” the man said. “She’s coming with me.”

      “Wrong,” Daryl said, shifting his weight to his back foot. Chelsea recognized the move instantly. She’d seen Daryl practice it often enough in the living room of their apartment. The chivalrous stranger was about to have a foot planted smack in his chest—unless Ramón’s right cross flattened him first.

      “Stop!” Quite aware that she was trapped in a bubble of testosterone about to explode, Chelsea threw herself in front of the stranger and faced the three other men. “Stop it right now.”

      “Get out of the way, Chels,” Ramón said.

      “This will only take a second,” Daryl assured her.

      As they both moved forward, she threw her arms out to the side and took a quick step back into a rock solid chest. It occurred to her briefly that she might have chosen to defend the wrong person.

      “I’ve got it, Daryl,” Ramón said, bouncing closer. “I can still get one in over her head.”

      Suddenly furious, Chelsea drew herself up to her full height and fisted her hands on her hips. “What are you thinking? You can’t cause a scene. Do you want to lose your jobs?”

      It was the four-letter word—jobs—that caught their СКАЧАТЬ