I opened it and discovered something new about Caine. On one side he had a bunch of action movies, and on the other side were all foreign movies.
Action flicks and foreign movies.
Huh.
Smiling, I stood up, adding this new information to the inventory I’d unconsciously started compiling about my boss.
Okay, it was time to let myself out of his apartment while I was ahead of the game. There were still a few hours left of the afternoon. I was sure I could fit in some reading. I mean, it wasn’t like I had any other plans, as my social circle had diminished greatly since I lost my job with Benito.
Not that I cared.
Nope.
I let myself out of the apartment and locked up.
Okay, I cared.
Pouting a little, I strode toward the elevator and pressed the button to go down.
I jolted at a sound behind me and I glanced over my shoulder to find Mrs. Flanagan standing in her doorway wearing a diaphanous orange caftan. She was smiling brightly. “Alexa, I’m so glad I caught you. Come in for tea.”
“Uh …” Go home to an empty apartment or have a chat with a funny lady who seemed to know a heck of a lot about Caine? “Sure, sounds great.”
Mrs. Flanagan beamed and stepped aside to let me pass. I was immediately hit with how different her penthouse was in comparison to Caine’s. It was crammed with traditional, expensive furniture that would probably last for hundreds of years. Photographs cluttered every space, oil paintings every wall, and she had a thick Aubusson carpet taking up most of the floor space in the main room. The layout was like Caine’s except Mrs. Flanagan’s kitchen was more French country than sleek and modern, and there was a partition wall between the kitchen and the living space that gave an illusion of them being two separate rooms.
“Wow.” I grinned at her. “This is amazing.” And it was. I could see her whole life in the place. My attention was caught by a black-and-white photo of a beautiful woman staring off into the distance. It looked like a head shot for an Old Hollywood actress. “Is that you?”
Mrs. Flanagan nodded, smiling. “I was Maria in West Side Story on Broadway.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “I moved from Boston to New York when I was fourteen to work on Broadway. Met my husband, Nicky, after a show one night. He was a wealthy industrialist from Boston. We married when I was twenty-three.” She gestured to a photograph of her in a beautiful wedding dress standing next to a handsome young man. “In love right up until he passed ten years ago. Still in love.” She smiled sadly. “Thankfully it was enough because unfortunately babies just weren’t in the stars for us.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Flanagan.”
“Don’t be, sweetheart. I’ve had a beautiful life. I still have.” She grinned and started waving me toward her dining table. “Sit, sit.”
Once she’d prepared tea she returned to sit at the table with me—a table now laden with biscuits and cakes. I helped myself to both.
“So.” Mrs. Flanagan poured tea into the gorgeous china cup she’d put in front of me. “Were you running errands for Caine again?”
I snorted. “When am I not?”
“Tsk. That boy.” She shook her head, eyes bright with humor and affection. “He’s certainly going out of his way to piss you off.”
I gave a huff of laughter. “And I bet you think that’s deserved.”
“Well, you did ambush him at a photo shoot and once again in his office.”
My suspicions were correct: Caine told the old bird everything! Intrigued, I leaned forward. “How did you and Caine become friends?”
“Caine, is it?” She threw me a cheeky smile.
“Mr. Carraway,” I corrected myself, holding her steady gaze and refusing to give anything away.
She chortled. “You can call him Caine, sweetheart. He’s not a god.”
“Do you think you could tell him that? Because I don’t think he knows.”
Mrs. Flanagan threw her head back in laughter. “Oh, Caine was right. You are a smart-ass.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I can’t help it. He brings it out in me.”
“Well, I can see how that might happen, what with him trying to piss you off every chance he gets even though he says he’s not.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do with that boy.”
“I can take it,” I assured her. “I get it.”
“You do?” She raised an eyebrow. “Because I don’t think you do. I don’t even think Caine gets it yet.”
“It’s about our history. About my father and his mother.” I was suddenly suspicious. “I thought you knew all this.”
“Oh, I know all about that, and I know it’s not your fault, so get that out of your head right now.”
“I know it’s not my fault, but I get why it’s hard for Caine to separate me from it,” I admitted. “He’s been through so much because of my father and what he did to destroy Caine’s family. I guess it would make me feel better if I could see Caine happy. He deserves to be happy, even when he is being a grumpy, relentless, unbending pain in the ass.” I took a sip of tea. “Did you meet Phoebe?”
Mrs. Flanagan seemed amused by the question. “Oh no. I’ve never met any of Caine’s lady friends. But Caine told me about her.”
“She was perfect for him. He just dumped her,” I huffed. “I do not understand that man.”
“Well, from what I heard she was all wrong for him.”
Shocked, intrigued, I leaned forward. “What did you hear?”
She laughed at my curiosity. “Phoebe was intimidated by him. She downplayed her intelligence around him. Drove him nuts.” She leaned forward, her eyes boring into mine with a fierceness I didn’t quite understand. “What Caine needs is a woman who is not easily intimidated, persistent, and pretty much okay with bulldozing her way into his life. That’s how I struck up my friendship with him. I wouldn’t let him take no for an answer, and now that boy is the closest thing I have to a grandson and I’m the closest thing he has to a grandmother.”
Uneasiness moved through me. “Maybe he wouldn’t want us talking, then. Especially about private stuff.”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” She gave me a knowing look. “You’re digging for some reason. Otherwise you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday afternoon with your boss’s kooky neighbor lady.”
I gave her a sad smile. “Maybe I have nowhere else to be.”
Mrs. F looked concerned. “Okay, if that’s true, why haven’t you got anywhere else to be?”
“My social circle grew smaller when I lost my former job. My friends from college all have kids now and …” I shrugged. “You know how it is.”
“Alexa, you’re a gorgeous, funny young woman. You should either be able to strike up friendships with other charming women or have a man on your arm showing you a good time at the weekend.”
A man on my arm. Right. “I haven’t had one of those in eighteen months and haven’t even been interested in looking since my mom passed.”
She reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. “I’m sorry about your loss, sweetheart. Caine told me about it after he looked into you.”