Free Manolos in Manhattan by Katie Oliver

when I ran into a spider web.”
    “They can be rather unpleasant.”
    “I
hate
spider webs,” Holly agreed, and added, “Most of us shallow girls do.”
    His dark eyes met hers. “Miss James—”
    She had no wish to hear an apology from him, much less any more criticism. “Never mind. So tell me, how do you test the pigment?”
    “Well, the painting should be examined by an art conservator, who’ll take a non-required sampling of the paint. That’s a tiny, non-invasive sample that gives a reasonably good idea of the age of the pigment and, thus, the painting. The other option is X-ray radiography. It’s a more conclusive, but also rather more invasive, method.”
    The breeze, absent until then, returned. It seemed that the flapper was not pleased.
    “Did you feel that?” Hugh asked suddenly.
    Holly stared at him, astonished. “You felt it, too?”
    He looked at her oddly. “Yes, of course I did.” He glanced past her at the windows, both shut. “It must’ve come from the attic doorway,” he murmured. “Most odd.”
    “Sorry if I was rude the night of the party,” Holly said, all too anxious to change the subject from breezes and odd things and the potential ghost of a flapper. “I was, wasn’t I?”
    He shrugged. “You’d just accepted a date with Ciaran Duncan, after all. I imagine he dazzles all the young women.”
    “It wasn’t a date, and I wasn’t ‘dazzled,’” Holly retorted. “Well, maybe a bit,” she admitted. “It isn’t every day a girl gets asked to dinner by a film star, after all.”
    “No, I expect not.”
    “Why don’t you like him, anyway?” she wondered. “Do you know him?”
    “Know him?” He glanced at her. “No. But I know of him. He’s charming, persuasive, and very skilled at getting what he wants, with no concern for who he might hurt in the process.”
    “Oh, he can’t be that bad,” Holly scoffed. “He’s funny, in a droll, self-deprecating way. And he has very nice teeth.”
    “So did the Big Bad Wolf, as I recall.” There was a distinct edge to his voice.
    “I hope you don’t mind my asking,” Holly said, wishing to change the subject to anything but Ciaran, “but I wondered – are you seeing anyone? Back in London, I mean?”
    His expression – already forbidding – tightened. “I fail to see how my personal life is any of your concern, Miss James.”
    “Oh, never mind.” Holly turned away. “I don’t really care, anyway.”
    “Then why did you ask?”
    “Because I wondered if there’s a real person under that perfectly tailored suit.” She glared at him. “I guess I have my answer.”
    His tense expression relaxed. “No. I haven’t the time, apart from anything else. Your father keeps me very busy with legal matters.”
    “Well then, why don’t you ask Coco out, Mr Darcy? She’s right here at the store, and she’s single. I’m sure she’d
love
to go out with you.”
    A look of distaste crossed his face. “I can assure you, I’d rather eat rocks than go out with Ms. Welch.”
    She stared at him. “Why? Coco’s quite attractive. She’s stylish. And
brunette
,” she couldn’t help adding.
    “Yes, I suppose she’s attractive,” he agreed, ignoring the dig, “but there’s the small matter of a personality.” He paused. “She doesn’t have one.”
    Holly blinked. Then she laughed. “Good point, Mr Darcy. At least we can agree on that.”
    He glanced at her, and for the first time, his lips relaxed into a slight smile. “Shall we go back downstairs, Miss James? I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling rather hungry. I wouldn’t mind a pastrami on rye, or perhaps a Reuben, from that deli on the corner. Join me?”
    “That,” Holly said with satisfaction, “sounds absolutely perfect, Mr Darcy.”
    They went to Shatz’s deli and placed their orders at the counter. When their sandwiches were ready, they found a table by the window and sat down. As Hugh bit into his pastrami on rye with extra mustard, and