And the marble is stunning.â
âMy exâsâAngieâsâfavorite. I got to choose the shower, though.â
Catherine stared at him. âYour ex-wife?â
Tony had to give her credit; sheâd never asked after meeting Mrs. Collette. âIâm divorced. Is that a problem?â
âNo. I mean...â Catherine shook her head. âNot for me, it isnât. I expected so.â She smiled. âItâs fine.â
He started to let it go, but knew damn well the remark would bother him. âExpected it?â
âCome on...a great guy like you? Good-looking. Smart. Successful. Someone was bound toââ
âOkay.â He laughed at his own embarrassment. âBefore you ask, the split was amicable. No kids involved. Itâs all good. You want to see more of the place?â
âOf course I do.â Smiling, Catherine stretched up and brushed her lips across his mouth. But when the kiss got heated she backed off. âShow me.â
Deciding to let her get away with the dodge for now, he led her down the long hall, stopping at the guest bedroom with its en suite, and another smaller bedroom. Then they walked back into the large open space that was a living room, dining room and kitchen all in one.
âThis space is out of this world. I love the art, by the way. Gaudà is a favorite of mine.â
âThere was an exhibit of his stuff at the Met. I liked it a lot.â
They walked past the big dining table, one heâd built when he was twenty, then into the kitchen, with its wide island and stainless appliances.
âThis is a total chefâs kitchen,â she said. âI recognize the brands of the stove and the fridge. Do you cook often?â
âNot really. I can make a decent omelet, a steak and pasta. Everything else I bring in. Including tonightâs dinner. I didnât even make the salad.â
âNo harm in that. I think I want to steal your entire kitchen for my place, though. Itâs stunning.â
âThis was all my ex-wifeâs doing. Sheâs the one who chose everything even though she was a terrible cook. Iâve been able to figure out how to get around in here for two years, though, with no problems. So if you want this configuration, we can certainly accommodate that.â
He got the lasagna out of the oven, pulled down a couple plates and cut them each a big piece.
âIâll never be able to eat all that.â
âI donât know. Youâre living in Little Italy now. Itâs not a meal until youâve eaten twice your weight in pasta.â
âDamn. I guess Iâll have to join a gym.â
âItâs inevitable,â he said, getting them both forks. They didnât even move to the table. Just leaned over the island and dug in.
She took a bite and her eyes widened almost comically, then she took two more bites in quick succession. âTony,â she said, as if she was about to impart some huge news. âThis is the best lasagna Iâve ever had. Your mother is an amazing cook.â
âShe learned from my grandmother, who lives with them. When my brothers and I were growing up, every day was like a cook-off. It was actually pretty insane.â
âThat must be tough onââ
She stopped talking when the elevator dinged.
Tony groaned. âOh, shit. Iâm sorry about this,â he said, walking across the room. He knew who it was. The only other person to have a key. His brother Dom. Because he was still in school, he lived with their folks, but he liked to crash in the guest room from time to time. He usually called before he came, though.
âYo, Tony,â he said, walking in like he owned the place, his gym bag in hand. âIt smells like Maâs lasagna. Thank God, Iâm starving.â
âWhy didnât you call?â
âI left two messages.â
âAnd my not returning them didnât give you a
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