Ticket To Love. Jen Safrey

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ less a consequence of his being rich and more a consequence of his being an utter bastard.”

      “I’m not taking any chances. No rich guys.” Acey lay down on the floor. “I liked Harry. Dammit.”

      “Should we hope he didn’t win? That doesn’t seem right.”

      “No.”

      “Besides,” Steph said, “if everything you said is true—that funny business with the ticket, and the weird stuff he said—he does sound like the secret winner.”

      “I know.” Acey lay quiet for a moment. “Remember the other night? When we were wondering about why the winner wouldn’t come forward and then we thought he might just be scared?”

      “Yeah?”

      “That could be it. Harry could be scared to have all that money. Scared it will corrupt him somehow. Cause problems, he said.”

      “Sounds possible.” Steph glanced at her watch. “Time for the news.” She hit the power button on the remote and grabbed her notebook. Acey sat watching with her sister through stories on accidents and homicides and world tensions before the lottery took precedence once again.

      “Still no word on the winner of the thirty-five-million-dollar lottery jackpot, who bought the lucky ticket at a Valley Stream convenience store,” the TV said.

      Steph looked at Acey, who took the remote from her and muted the set.

      “I can’t pursue Harry. I liked him,” Acey repeated. “And I’m pretty sure he liked me, at least as a friend. So I can be his friend, and—”

      “And what?” Steph asked suspiciously.

      “And help him see the light. I can help him—come out of his shell of an apartment and see that having money will be a good thing for him, and he can help other people with it, which I’m sure would be important to him.”

      “You can’t let on you know it’s him.”

      “Obviously, no. Then he’d assume I’m out to get my hands on it.” She sighed. “God knows, I’ll never win the lottery, but if I help him accept his destiny, it will feel in some small way like I won, too. You know?”

      Steph chewed on her lip. “Yeah,” she finally said. “I see what you mean. Especially if he’s like you said—a hero, always saving the day.”

      “Maybe this time,” Acey said, “the hero needs someone to save the day for him.”

       Chapter Four

       T he door buzzer startled Harry out of slumber. It was just as well, because pressing his right cheekbone against his desk blotter probably wasn’t considered an ideal place for a nap. A long nap, he realized, glancing at his clock and seeing it had gone from midafternoon to early evening.

      The buzzer blared again and Harry jogged to the living room. “Who is it?” he called. He knew he’d probably have to go outside anyway because the quality of his intercom was terrible, something he had learned when he ended up buying thirteen boxes of Girl Scout cookies his second week here.

      What he heard was garbled but sounded an awful lot like, “Pizza delivery!”

      “Uh, I think you have the wrong apartment,” Harry replied, and listened.

      “Pizza,” he heard again.

      “But I didn’t order a pizza.”

      “That’s the problem, sir.”

      Huh? Wait…

      Harry went down to the front door and there was Acey, holding out a huge flat box.

      “Howdy,” he said with a grin.

      “Hey, there. Thought I’d kill two birds with one stone—repay your niceness yesterday and prove to you how right I am about Focaccia’s.” She handed him the box. “There you go.”

      Harry patted his pockets. “Sorry, I’m wiped out. I can’t tip you.”

      “What a cheapskate,” she said, laughing.

      “How about I offer you a slice? If you don’t have dinner plans, of course.”

      “As it happens, I don’t.”

      “Unless you’re tired of pizza.”

      “I never get tired of pizza,” Acey said, following him into his apartment. Harry lifted the lid on the box and took a big sniff.

      “Everyone does that,” Acey said.

      “It smells amazing.”

      “I didn’t top it. I didn’t know if you were a vegetarian or had an aversion to anything. It’s best plain, anyway. Then you can taste it. Are you really sure you don’t mind my dropping in like this?”

      “Of course not.” Harry put the box on the table and took two plates from the cabinet. “It’s real nice.”

      “I’m glad. I was thinking it had been so long since I met a real friend.”

      Harry’s hand stilled on a glass for a fraction of a second, then he carried on setting the table. There was no mistaking Acey’s emphasis on the word “friend.” It’s just as well, he thought. I don’t want any entanglements. And she’s real outgoing and probably has lots of male friends. And maybe a boyfriend. Though wouldn’t she be bringing pizza home to her boyfriend after work?

      Well, if she was coming here and throwing the word friend around, Harry thought, then his problems were pretty much solved, weren’t they?

      He turned. Acey sat at the table and smiled. She was wearing a low-cut white clingy shirt, and a tiny sliver of a pale pink bra strap peeked through. A strand of little pink plastic-looking beads dipped into her deep cleavage.

      Harry was suddenly grateful for his impromptu nap. He had a sinking feeling another sleepless night was ahead.

      “Care to eat alfresco?” he asked.

      “Sure.”

      “I have a little porch off the—” damn “—off the bedroom.”

      Acey seemed unfazed. “Lead the way.”

      “Grab the box.”

      Hoping he’d left nothing offensive in plain sight, he led Acey through the apartment and out onto his tiny porch, where he had a table and two little folding chairs. Luckily, they had dried out in the sun today after yesterday’s downpour. He gestured to one. Acey sat and dished out two slices.

      “I only have regular soda, not diet,” Harry said. “I hope that’s all right.”

      “Do I look like I drink diet soda?” Acey asked. Harry wished she wouldn’t keep calling attention to her appearance, because it made it hard for him to try to ignore it. “Eat,” she commanded.

СКАЧАТЬ