There in the doorway of House of Beauty, holding two dozen white roses, stood Duke, stunning in a fitted gray suit. Valentino maybe? she thought. I have no idea, but he looks edible.

“Hey, little man,” Duke said, tossing a smile at Angel before drawing something from his pocket. “I have something for you.”

“Whoa,” Jose said, wide-eyed.

“They’re tickets for the first home game.” Duke squatted in front of the boy. “Seats are right behind the dugout. Thought you might like that.” He stood up, smooth and sexy, wearing his suit as comfortably as sweats. “If it’s okay with your mom, of course.”

“Oh, she hates baseball,” Gabriela cut in, winking at Jose. “But I’ll take him.”

“I don’t hate baseball,” Angel protested. “I’m just … not really into sports.” She smiled at Duke. “I think I can make an exception this one time.”

He handed the roses to Jose. “Can you hold on to these for your mama?” Then the ballplayer politely took Angel’s hand. “Thank you. I know I’m asking a lot. But it’ll be fun, I promise.” He stepped back and swept over her with his gaze. “Girl, you look bomb in that dress! Amazing!”

He surprised her by twirling her around, a gently guided dance move. She gasped and then laughed, satin floating and feminine against her legs. He put a hand on her waist to steady her at the end of the spin, but then quickly gave her space, offering a small bow. The women in the room sighed.

“The swing in my waist, / and the joy in my step” … I’ll let myself be a phenomenal woman, and have a phenomenal night. Save reality for tomorrow.

Chapter Thirteen

The private elevator, with teak wall panels and a small chandelier, was silent, and it climbed sixty floors to the penthouse far too quickly. As the doors slid open, Angel thought for a second she was being punked, that Duke had delivered her to a movie set. The entry hall was marble and walnut and gold, with a sweeping marble staircase too beautiful to be real. Stepping tentatively off the elevator, she could see one double doorway leading into an old-fashioned English library.

“May I take your coat, miss?” said a butler. A butler … So those guys are real. Not just on Downton Abbey.

Another set of double doors was open to reveal an immense living area jammed with well-dressed bodies. The room, layered in deep, warm colors, boasted large windows and a massive marble fireplace. Burgundy cloth covered the walls, dampening the loud voices and the instrumental blues band in a corner next to a bar.