Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
But other than that? It just tastes nice. It’s easy on my tongue, goes down my throat smoothly.
It would be good with food. With pizza, actually.
We don’t have any pizza here, but I can remedy that in a moment. Normally I wouldn’t be so presumptuous, but I know Teddy won’t mind.
I pull up my food delivery app—unconsciously checking to see if Dragon has texted; he hasn’t—take a look around the room to assess the number of pizzas I need, and then order six large pizzas—three pepperoni, three cheese—to be delivered to Teddy’s place.
It’s Saturday night, so I pay the extra fee for rush delivery.
Excellent. Twenty minutes and they’ll be here. I sip the wine slowly so I’ll still have a nearly full glass when the pizza gets here.
In the meantime, I take a look around. The two friends of Teddy’s who are in town—Tracy and Bud—are deep in conversation with two young women.
Teddy is talking to a handsome young man, and there are a couple of other groups of women and men chatting about, and then I see him…
A man by himself in the corner checking his phone.
He’s tall with light-brown hair, and he’s wearing faded jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. So not my type.
Which is why I take another sip of my wine and walk toward him.
He looks up at me as I draw near.
“Am I interrupting you?” I ask.
“No. I was just returning a text.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Antonio, by the way.”
I shake his hand. “Diana.” I look him up and down. “You don’t look like an Antonio.”
He cocks his head. “I don’t?”
“Antonios are supposed to be the dark Latin type. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin.”
“I’m Italian,” he says. “Northern Italian.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Carbone. What’s yours?”
“Steel.”
As usual, I get the wide eyes at that. “Not the Steels?”
I bite my lip. “Guilty.”
My family is well known in Colorado. They’re pretty much known nationwide. But Steel isn’t an uncommon name, so it always boggles my mind that people just assume I’m one of the Steels.
“So I assume you work for your family?” Antonio asks.
I shake my head. “I’m an architect.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You mean your rich family doesn’t dabble in architecture? They have their hands in just about everything else.”
I decide not to take his comment the wrong way because I don’t think he means it to be rude. He’s right. The elders of my family are way more than just ranchers. You don’t become billionaires simply by ranching.
“They do not have their fingers in the architecture game,” I say. “I’ve gotten there on my own.”
“That’s cool.” He smiles. “Good for you.”
There’s something patronizing about what he just said, but again, I don’t think he meant it that way. Sometimes people just don’t know how to act when I tell them who my family is.
“What do you do?” I ask him.
“I own a music store,” he says. “It’s right on the outskirts of downtown. I sing and play guitar nights and weekends, but I’m off tonight.”
My interest is piqued. “A music store? Do you offer instruction?”
“Yeah, of course. You looking to learn to sing or play an instrument?”
“God, no,” I laugh. “I have no musical talent at all. But my roommate is a drummer. I know he’d like to get some students.”
“Really?” He strokes his chin. “Percussion is very popular. We can always use new instructors. What are his qualifications?”
“He’s a member of the band Dragonlock. They just went on tour with Emerald Phoenix.”
This time his jaw drops. “No shit? Yeah, have him call me.” He pulls a card out of his pocket and hands it to me. “I wouldn’t mind if you called me either, Diana.” He gives me a smile.
“Maybe I will.” I smile back at him. He’s quite handsome, with broad shoulders, narrow hips. I’m so used to guys from the western slope. This guy has yuppie written all over him, despite his flannel shirt.
I’m about to open my mouth to ask more about his music store when Teddy comes strolling up.
“Hey, Dee, I see you met my cousin.”
This time I widen my eyes. “You guys are cousins?”
“Yeah,” Antonio says. “Guilty. Our mothers are sisters.”
“How have I not met you before now?” I ask. “I interned at Teddy’s architecture firm.”
“I’m not one for parties,” Antonio says. “But my good cousin here convinced me to come to this one since Tracy and Bud were coming into town.”
“So you know Tracy and Bud too?”
“Oh, yeah. We all went to college together.”
“So much I don’t know.” I twirl a lock of my hair and give Antonio a slight smile.
Teddy looks at me and then at Antonio, and then back at me. “Something going on with you two?”
“Of course not,” I say, my cheeks warming.
But then Antonio looks at me, and I see the color of his eyes. They’re not brown as I originally thought, but greenish brown.