“I’m not blind,” she retorted. “He’s not for you, Annabelle. He’ll use you up and spit you out, and I desperately do not want you to get your heart broken and leave. I need you. Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

“He’s my landlord,” I said. “We live mere yards away from each other. That’s a virtual impossibility.”

“Is it?” she asked. “Miguel says he never leaves his house. How exactly did you happen to make his acquaintance?”

“Um . . .” I wasn’t sure I wanted to lead with the rule breaking. “Timing, you know, our comings and goings lined up.”

“Unalign them,” she said. “Seriously, you don’t want a repeat of Jeremy or the BD again, do you?”

“He doesn’t strike me as being anything like Jeremy or the big disappointment,” I said. I remembered the feel of his fingers on my wrist, tracing my tattoo, and my visceral reaction to his touch. Yeah, neither of my exes had ever affected me like that.

Sophie heaved a breath. She picked up her mascara and resumed her touch-up. “I can’t tell you what to do, I know that, but I can tell you that Nick Daire is not someone you want to get involved with, Belly. In all the years Miguel and I have known him, he’s never dated a woman for longer than a season, and now he’s—”

“In a wheelchair,” I said.

She lowered the wand again and met my gaze. “You know then. I’m surprised. He’s kept his situation private, very private, even going so far as to retire from his business, Daire Industries.”

I waited for more. There was no more. Maddening!

“What happened to him, Sophie?” I asked. She didn’t answer right away. I waited.

“I don’t know the details,” she said. “All I know is that he had a stroke last year and afterwards he withdrew completely from everyone and everything.”

“A stroke,” I said. “But he’s so young.”

“Thirty-five,” she confirmed. “Annabelle, please trust me when I tell you that steering clear of Daire is for the best.”

“Sure thing,” I agreed. To distract her from asking me to promise to avoid him—not gonna happen—I said, “You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said. “We have a . . . a client meeting and then we’re having dinner with the local entrepreneur group tonight, a snoozefest but the food is always amazing.”

“Eat a jumbo shrimp for me,” I said. I slipped out the door while she was still chuckling.