I shouldn't have been near Central Park on a Saturday morning. I should have been home getting ready for the business lunch with Tony Marvin on Monday, rehearsing my pitch until every line was perfect. But Elliot had been adamant that we needed our weekly walk, and I couldn't argue with my brother when he used that specific tone of voice.
"You're stressed," Elliot noted, his gaze fixed on the path as we walked. He'd never been good at making eye contact, but he always knew my moods better than any person. "Your left shoulder is higher than your right. That only happens when you're stressed."
I relaxed my posture consciously. "I have an important meeting on Monday."
"The Marvin account." It was not a question. Elliot recalled every information I told him, holding facts with the certainty of a computer. "The man with seventeen hotels, forty-three clubs, and roughly three hundred million dollars in cash assets."
"Roughly," I repeated with a slight smile. "You've been researching him?"
"I research everyone who stresses you." He pulled over to a hot dog cart, falling into the routine we'd developed years earlier. "Two hot dogs. One with toppings, one with mustard only."
As the vendor was placing our order, I felt the scrutiny of someone. That prickling awareness raised hairs on the back of my neck. I turned, seeing the Saturday morning crowd of runners and families, and my heart froze.
Anthony Marvin stood twenty feet off, clad in jeans and a black Henley that did outrageous things to his shoulders. No suit, no bodyguards, no trappings of power – just a devastatingly handsome, clearly stunned to see me as I was to see him.
"Katherine?" Elliot's voice shook me out of my daze. He was holding out my hot dog, his brow furrowed in concern. "Your cortisol levels must be spiking. Your pupils just dilated."
"I'm fine," I fibbed, taking the hot dog with shaky hands. "I just saw someone I know."
Before I could decide whether to acknowledge Tony or ignore him, he was heading our way. His gait was smooth and predatory, and my traitorous body responded with a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the morning sun.
"Miss Blaire." His voice was smoother than the expensive scotch he'd drunk at the club. "This is unexpected."
"Mr. Marvin." I was pleased that my voice was steady. "I didn't know you frequented Central Park."
"I run here most mornings." His glance flew to Elliot, who was scrutinizing Tony with the same attention he usually saved for complex engineering puzzles. "I don't think we've met."
"This is my brother, Elliot." I placed a hand over Elliot's shoulder. "Elliot, this is Anthony Marvin. A prospective client."
"Prospective," Tony repeated, his lips quirking. "I admire that you're optimistic."
Elliot held out his hand to shake, and Tony accepted without hesitation. "You're own the Apex nightclub," Elliot said. "Katherine came home stressed after visiting your club. Her stress indicators were raised for forty-eight hours."
I wanted the earth to swallow me.
Instead of looking flustered, Tony's expression softened in a way I hadn't seen before. "I apologize for that. I didn't handle our first meeting very well."
"People don't apologize to Katherine much," Elliot went on, not noticing my flush. "They just make excuses or get defensive."
"Elliot studies patterns in human behavior," I explained quickly. "He's an engineering major, but psychology fascinates him."
"Smart kid." His attention shifted back to me, and something in his gaze made my stomach flutter. "Can I buy you both coffee? There's a cart just over there, and I'd like to... I mean, if you have time, I'd appreciate a chance to start over."
Every logical cell in my brain screamed to refuse. This was the man who'd propositioned me like I was for sale, who represented everything dangerous and complicated I should avoid. But there was something different about him here, away from the club and the power and the expensive suits.
He seemed almost... human.
"We were just finishing our walk," I hedged, adjusting the strap of my crossbody bag.
"Please." The single-word request carried a surprising amount of authority. "Five minutes. No business discussion, no pitches. Coffee and chat."
Elliot gazed between us with scientific interest. "Your heart rate went up when he said 'please,' Katherine. And you're tugging on your sleeve, which tells me that you're considering saying yes even though you shouldn't."
"Elliot!"
"It's okay." Tony's smile was genuine, reaching his eyes in a way that transformed his entire face. "I appreciate honesty. It's refreshing."
There was that word again – refreshing. The very same word his assistant had used to confirm our lunch appointment. Against my better judgment, I agreed. "Five minutes. But Elliot's gonna have to finish his hot dog first. It's our Saturday routine."
"Routines are important," Tony interjected, and something in his tone implied that he actually understood. "My grandmother – before she passed on – always made Sunday breakfast a necessity no matter what. Rain or sunshine, or a crisis of business or not. I resented that as a child, but now..."
He trailed on, vulnerability flashing across his face before he masked it. But I had seen it—a glimpse of the man beneath the armor, and it shook something loose within me.
We walked over to a nearby bench, and I watched Tony sitting a polite distance away, giving Elliot space but chatting informally about the park and the enjoyable day. He asked about Elliot's classes, and whereas my brother embarked on a discussion of sustainable bridge engineering, Tony actually listened. Not the courteous bob of the head that people defaulted to – actual listening, asking questions to make clarifications, treating Elliot's enthusiasm with respect rather than condescendingly.
"You're good with him," I said quietly while Elliot was distracted by a group of dogs playing nearby.
"My best friend in high school had Asperger's," Tony said, staring at Elliot with a gentle face. "Different from Elliot, of course, but very young, very early, I learned that different doesn't mean less. It's just different."
The casual acceptance in his words made my throat tight. So many people treated Elliot like a problem to be managed or pitied. Tony treated him like a person worth knowing.
"Thank you," I managed. "For that."
"For what?"
"For seeing him."
Tony's green eyes met mine, and the intensity there made my breath catch. "I see you both, Katherine. More than you might think."
The silence stretched with implications that I didn't want to analyze. Finally, Tony stood, brushing off his jeans.
"About lunch next Monday," he started.
"I'm prepared to submit an overall proposal—"
"Cancel it."
My stomach fell. "What?"
"Cancel it," he repeated, then held up a hand when I started to protest. "Not that I'm not interested, but I want to do this right. Have dinner with me instead. Somewhere quiet where we can actually talk. No games, no proposals. Two people getting to know each other."
"Mr. Marvin-"
"Tony. And before you say no, let me be clear about something." He drew nearer, close enough that I could breathe his aftershave and distinguish the specks of gold in his green eyes. "I was wrong. About coming onto you the way that I did, what I offered, about all of that. You're better than that."
My heart thudded against my ribcage. "Why the sudden change?"
"Because you walked away," he said simply. "And doing that, showed me something I'd forgotten existed."
"What's that?"
"Someone worth chasing."
The words lingered between us, and I knew that agreeing to this would be the start of something I could not stop. Something that would disrupt my well-planned life in ways I could not anticipate.
"One dinner," I found myself saying. "But this time, I get to choose the venue."
Tony's smile was slow, dangerous, and utterly devastating.
"Deal"
As he walked away, Elliot returned to my side, his eyes tracking Tony's retreating form with keen precision.
"Katherine," he said carefully. "That man is dangerous."
"I know."
"But you're seeing him anyway."
It wasn't a question, and I didn't bother denying.
"Yeah," I admitted, watching Tony disappear into the morning crowd. "I guess so."
What I didn't mention, even to myself, was that the danger wasn't what scared me most.
It was the way my heart skipped when Tony smiled at my brother. It was the way I wanted him to look at me like that again. And God help me, it was the way I was already wondering what it would feel like to let someone like Anthony Marvin into the carefully controlled chaos of my life.