“You ate ham and cheese on French toast?” Gray asked, not bothering to hide his disgust. “And you could look at yourself in the mirror afterwards?”
Simone was afraid of flying, so Landon rode back to New Canton in the passenger seat of her lemon yellow Spider convertible.
“You don’t have to hold onto the side like that,” Simone called over the wind. “It won’t save you.”
Landon had a feeling nothing would save him if something unavoidable got in Simone’s way. She was easily doing 100 mph in a 65 mph zone, weaving expertly through the clots of cars until the road opened up in front of them again and she could accelerate to 110.
“When was the last time you drove?” he called back.
Simone’s slim shoulders shrugged, and for one heart-stopping moment, she took her hands off the wheel to throw them in the air. “A few months ago, I think.”
Great. Landon scanned the horizon for police, but so far, Simone’s luck had been uncanny. How hadn’t she gotten pulled over yet driving this fast, in this car? Was it some sort of holiday for law enforcement?
Without legal interference, Simone got them from New York City to New Canton in record time, slowing to 35 mph the second she crossed into the town. Landon slowly released the side of the car and flexed his cramped fingers. “Who do you want to meet first? Martha or Kaitlyn?”
Simone had a fascination with his mother. “She can’t be that bad,” she’d insisted more than once. “Any woman who once waxed poetic about the ocean must have a soul.”
“She waxed poetic exactly once,” Landon always explained. “And then she went back to being her usual robotic self. It wasn’t proof of a soul, it was a glitch in the software. My dad had his IT guy fix it.”
“Hmm.” Simone tapped a long nail against her full lips, considering. “You said your mother comes out most often at night, so let’s go to the restaurant first.”
Landon gave her directions to the old Baratellis, gratified to see that Simone drove reasonably within the city limits. Until she nearly veered off the road with excitement. “I see her!”
Landon’s eyes shot in the direction she was looking. There was indeed a woman about Kaitlyn’s age standing right in front of the new LeClarks, but she had long dark hair, golden skin, faintly Native American features, and a large camera.
“Not her,” he said, grabbing the wheel and correcting the Spider before it took out whoever the girl was. “Now fucking park and give me the keys. I’m driving home.”
Simone parked and smacked the single black key into his hand before loping toward the entrance on her mile-long legs. “If that’s not her, who is it?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Landon said. The woman had gone back inside, probably to tell the others there was a lunatic on the road.
Simone paused and lowered her shades to get a good look at the restaurant. Her green eyes were unimpressed. “It’s...cute.”
“The old place was better.”
“The place that’s now Rathskeller?” Simone shot him a quick glance. “How does Kaitlyn feel about that?”
“You’re about to see for yourself.”
In the middle of her impassioned defense of the croque monsieur, the bell over the front door jingled and Kaitlyn’s heart stopped as Landon strolled through it. After a week, she’d stopped expecting to see him every time she looked up. And she had never expected to see the woman who walked in beside him, holding his arm.
Kaitlyn had lived in New York for nearly four years. She had seen celebrities on the streets and models in restaurants, but she could confidently say that this was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in real life. She had waves of hair, the shorter layers crashed and foamed onto the longer layers beneath in an undulating, shimmering mahogany ocean. Her skin was pale and flawless, and her eyes were as wide and bright green as a cat’s. Her smile was vaguely feline too, and when she directed it up at Landon, Kait felt her heart flop peculiarly in her chest.
“Jesus,” Gray said involuntarily. “Who is that?”
“I don’t know,” Marjorie said. “But she needs to learn how to drive.”
Landon tried not to look directly at Kait, but he couldn’t help it. His gaze was drawn to her. And he was gratified to see that she hadn’t noticed because hers was locked on Simone.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Simone apologized to Marjorie. “I was just so excited to finally see the restaurant Landon keeps talking about. I adore French food.”
They were won over. Of course they were. Few people could stay mad after experiencing an onslaught of Simone’s charm.
“You’ve eaten at a lot of French restaurants then,” Gray said, his gaze also riveted. “Settle a debate for my sister and me.”
As comfortable with strangers as she was old friends, Simone pulled a chair up to the booth. “Gladly. What’s the debate?” Though she tossed a look over her shoulder at Landon that clearly said, Come here, he stayed back, observing.
“Croque monsieur,” Gray said. “Does it belong on the menu of a nice French restaurant?”
“Yes!” Simone exclaimed. “Even the nicest French restaurant needs a croque monsieur.”
“See?” Kaitlyn said triumphantly.
Landon noticed she kept her eyes on Gray rather than Simone. If he’d had any doubts about whether Kait had kissed him back—as to whether she wanted him like he wanted her—they were dispelled by the way she was reacting to Simone. Most people were initially dazzled by the former model, but it wasn’t awe in Kait’s eyes. It was jealousy.
Simone noticed, too, and thought compassionately: She really likes him. What a terrible fate, not only to fall in love with men, but to fall in love with this man. She adored Landon, but she had seen him cut a heartless swath through the women of their society. He was too good-looking, too rich. Somehow, though, he’d managed not to be completely spoiled
