Tempted in the City by Jo Leigh

to happen a lot.”
    â€œI’d already figured out you were very popular among the citizenry.”
    â€œIf by popular you mean everyone wants to know my business, then yeah.”
    â€œDoes your business include you walking down the street with me? With your hand on the small of my back?”
    His hand disappeared the next second. “Damn. Sorry.”
    â€œI didn’t say I minded.”
    He looked at her, a little puzzled. “It’s not so simple. None of these goombahs will stop to think you might be a client. They’ll jump the gun and assume we’re a couple. So if, you know, you’re engaged or anything...”
    â€œThat would be bad.”
    â€œIt would.”
    â€œGood thing I’m not, then.”
    He turned to look across the street just when she’d wanted to see his expression. Wouldn’t her mother be surprised at her brazen reply. Even in London she’d probably have been more circumspect. Maybe this was part of her becoming a New Yorker. Or maybe it just had to do with the man. He made her feel bolder, whether it was getting her hands dirty polishing old sconces, or buying pastry in the hopes he’d stay a little longer this time.
    Of course, her mother would be appalled by all of it, but her mother would have been much happier if she’d been born in the Victorian age. Her father was more progressive...sort of. Then again, the man wore a suit, tie and waistcoat to work every day, and to dinner, even.
    â€œSee that,” Tony said, pointing to a stoop that had a gorgeous railing alongside its five steps. The railing matched a lantern that was so much more elegant than the utilitarian light fixture she had now.
    â€œMay I get a closer look?”
    â€œSure.”
    At first she thought he was going to take her hand, but after checking for traffic, he simply gestured for them to cross.
    â€œOh, this is lovely,” she said, running her hand over the intricate work, the curlicues that weren’t at all overdone, just beautiful.
    â€œTony Paladino. You haven’t been by in a hundred years.” A tall trim woman with short brown hair stood in the doorway of a store next door.
    â€œI don’t think it’s been quite that long, Mrs. Collette. But it’s nice to see you.”
    â€œHow is your father?”
    â€œDoing better, thank you.”
    â€œGood to hear it.” She eyed Catherine, though not in a rude manner. “And who’s your friend?”
    â€œCatherine Fox, this is Mrs. Collette. I think you’ll like her store. There are quite a few antiques that could fit in well with your renovations.”
    Catherine had already spotted a console table near the door that appealed to her...before she’d been distracted by Tony’s clever way of saying-without-saying she was a client. She smiled at Mrs. Collette. “I’d love to come back when I have enough time to really explore. Are you open on the weekend?”
    â€œSaturday. You come back then. If you like real antiques, that is. Not like that avanzo Caliguiri sells.”
    â€œI’ll be here the first Saturday I can manage. Thank you.”
    â€œMy pleasure. And Tony, I don’t think we’ve spoken since you and Angie... I was sorry about that. She’s a nice girl. I thought you two were made for each other.”
    â€œYeah, well, take care, Mrs. Collette,” Tony said, as he moved the two of them forward. “The second stoop is the next block over. Then what do you say we head to your place? These pastries are calling my name.”
    Catherine was curious about Angie, but she would never ask him. “Absolutely.”
    He put his hand on her back as they crossed the street, but dropped it again as soon as they were on the sidewalk. He wasn’t kidding around about this discretion business, although she’d liked the protective touch even if it was just a guy thing. Three other people asked about Tony’s