“Kat,” he called, his voice sharp with alarm. “Are you all right?”
She couldn’t help but smile. She knew without any doubt that he was on his feet, that he’d leapt up the moment she screamed, and was ready to jet over to her place to save her immediately. Sir Galahad had nothing on Dean. Sickening as it was, it never failed to strum a cord way back in the depths of her black little heart. She wasn’t used to people wanting to care for her and every time he did, it left her feeling a bit unbalanced, yet oddly touched. But, no matter how sweet, it was the reason behind most of his problems. He was a sucker for a female in distress—or at least the ones who were convincingly in distress.
“I’m fine,” she said, pressing her palm against the side of her head where the corner of a box had struck. She supposed she should have been grateful there was no blood. A great, big river of blood gushing out of her head would only have made the night that much more awesome. “I’m trying to get ready for Ron and Alan’s party.”
“I didn’t think you were going.”
“I wasn’t.” She had intended to stay home and work, maybe have a glass of champagne alone at midnight, but then Ron approached her the day after the holiday dinner with his idea, and she had randomly said yes, surprising both him and herself. A sigh escaped her lips as her gaze touched the disarray spanning out into the center of her bedroom. She should have stuck with her original plan.
“So,” he said, drawing out the word. “What changed?”
She bit her lower lip. She was going to have to tell him eventually—there was no way around that—but she thought she wouldn’t have to deal with it until Monday. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed or anything, it was just that whenever she thought about telling him, she got this weird sensation in her gut, as though everything below her navel wanted to tighten up into a hard knot. Even now her stomach flipped, and she had to take a deep breath before speaking. “They’re…” Do it quick, get it over with. “Ron and Alan are setting me up with someone.”
He was silent for a full thirty seconds before bursting into laughter. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” She should’ve known that was going to be his reaction. She braced herself for the inevitable ribbing. He loved to tease her, and while she usually found it fun, she was not quite ready to joke around or explain this to him yet. She was having a hard enough time explaining it to herself.
“Wow, Kat.” He must have heard something in her voice because he didn’t press it for a change. “All right then. I guess I’ll let you go. Have a good time.”
“Wait,” she said before he could hang up. He sounded so down. Unlike her, Dean didn’t thrive on solitude. He needed companionship, interaction. He’d be miserable if he spent the night alone. “Why don’t you come with me?”
“Oh, no,” he said, laughter returning to his voice. “This is your deal. Besides, what I am going to do while you’re off having your love connection?”
She tsked. “The entire office is going to be there along with the rest of the extended family. You’re going to know everybody.” She shifted through the wreckage of her closet and uncovered a pair of strappy platforms she had forgotten she owned. She held them up to the light, admiring the deep-red hue, the subtle hint of sparkle. They were perfect, way better than the shoes that had broken. A total score. She slid them on and stood up. She obviously needed to check her closet more often. There was some great stuff in there. “There’ll be plenty of people for you to talk to.”
There was a moment of silence before he answered. “Really, Kat, I don’t think I want to.”
“Aw, Dean,” she said, trying to keep her tone light and playful. She didn’t want him to be alone, but more than anything, that damn, annoying, selfish part of her desperately wanted him along. He was her partner in mayhem. She needed him there. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Let’s go drink and party and meet people and get laid. That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? Our lives won’t be worth living for the next year if we don’t.”
He chuckled. “You have a point.”
She smiled. This was good. “I know.” She stood up and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her eyes widening in horror. Her hair was sticking up at crazy angles, the intricate bun that had taken her almost an hour to create was decimated. She pulled the pins out and ran her fingers through the tangled mess. She should probably redo her hair, but all these extra preparations were making her insane. If her blind date wasn’t into the “I don’t own a hairbrush” style then that was his problem. “I’m calling a cab now. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ll be waiting.”
She hung up and then called the cab. It arrived quickly, an old brown Lincoln Town Car that had probably seen more of New York than she ever would. The inside smelled of Royal Pine air freshener and the stale musk of a thousand other passengers. The driver played Spanish-language Christmas music for his own listening pleasure, tapping his thumb against the wheel to the beat. Traffic was light on Flatbush and they glided down the avenue, sailing through a string of green lights. The moon was high in the sky, and it cast a sliver glow over the city streets, illuminating the well-dressed and hardly-dressed people. Kat gazed out the window, watching the Caribbean restaurants, discount shoe stores, and bodegas slowly transform into bistros and organic specialty markets as they made their way to Park Slope.
Dean was sitting on the stoop of his building when they arrived, and she grinned when he caught her eye. The sight of him always made her smile, sent a pleasantly wicked rush of heat through her body. He was just that attractive. The quintessential All-American boy, he was six-foot-two, athletic, charming, and everything about him was golden, from his wavy mass of honey-brown hair to the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, right down to his healthy copper skin. He was the stuff of dreams, a bronzed god among the mortals. Women loved him, fawned for his attention, and there were times when Kat could actually see the sexual fantasies playing out behind their eyes while they spoke to him. She was so glad she wasn’t one of his groupies. They were nauseating.
He circled the cab to the passenger’s side, his camel-colored winter coat brushing against his knees as he walked. The coat was tailored to fit his broad shoulders and judging from the conservative cut, she guessed it was Burberry or one of those other preppy designers he favored. He smiled broadly as he entered the cab, the rosy flush on his cheeks from the cold night air only adding to his sexy, boy-next-door good looks.
She kissed him hello, a peck on the cheek that was their usual greeting. The light stubble on his jaw was soft and prickly against her lips and the smell of his cologne, of him, sent warmth cascading down her spine. Dean was beautiful, sweet and smart, but he was also her closest friend, and she was absolutely not his type. Nor was he hers. She preferred her men darker in both looks and personality.
Their eyes met and a spark of electricity crackled in the air between them. For one, wild, frozen second she thought he might kiss her. And that she might let him. Her cheeks flushed and her breath caught. Eternity stretched out, and then snapped in a blink, gone like it had never been there. He dropped his gaze and took her hand, lightly caressing the inside of her wrist, strumming her thready pulse. She swallowed back the heat that wanted to settle low in her belly, and when he looked back into her eyes, she smiled, her heart filled with simple, platonic affection. Nothing more.
Dean climbed into the cab and smiled when he saw Kat. He always smiled when he saw her. She was beautiful. Most people saw some typical, vapid Southern California girl when they looked at her; she embodied it with her light-blond hair, cornflower-blue eyes, and smoking beach body, but he knew better. He had seen it the first time she flashed him that dark little smile of hers. Underneath that seemingly tame exterior beat the heart of a brilliant, though somewhat warped, rebel woman and being with her was like being on a perpetual adventure, even when they were sitting on his couch playing video games.
He leaned over and