Vivian thanked her again while I brushed past her toward the stairs leading away from Bethesda Terrace. I needed to put more distance between us immediately.
Unfortunately, Vivian soon fell into step with me again, and we walked in silence toward one of the park exits while I cursed myself for my lapse of judgment.
Not just the kiss, but the photoshoot altogether. I should've hired someone to Photoshop us into the park. That way, I wouldn't have to deal with…this.
The restless buzz beneath my skin. The tightening of my muscles when her scent wafted into my nose. The memory of her mouth on mine.
It wasn't about the kiss, which we'd had to do if we didn't want to arouse Winona's suspicion.
It was about the fact I'd lingered.
Vivian finally spoke when we passed through the exit onto 79thand Fifth. "About the kiss back there—"
"It was for the photo." I didn't look at her.
"I know, but—"
"Are you hungry?" I nodded at the food cart on the corner of the street. I would rather bathe in acid than discuss what happened.
Vivian sighed but dropped the subject. "I could use some food," she admitted. Her eyebrows winged up when I stopped in front of the food cart. "What are you doing?"
"Buying breakfast." I pulled a crisp twenty out of my wallet. "Two coffees and signature bagels. Keep the change. Thanks, Omar."
While I wanted to get away from Vivian as soon as possible, I was damn hungry. We'd woken up too early for breakfast, and I couldn't buy food without getting some for her too.
I was an asshole, not a boor.
I turned to find her staring at me like I'd sprouted horns and feathers in the middle of Fifth Avenue.
"What?"
"You're on a first-name basis with the owner."
"Obviously." I slid my wallet back into my pocket. "I run here in the mornings when I have time, and I've tried all the breakfast carts around the park. Omar's the best."
"Here I thought you only ate caviar and human hearts."
"Don't be ridiculous. Caviar tastes awful with human hearts."
Vivian's laugh evoked a strange sensation in my chest.Heartburn?Investigate later.
I took the food and handed one of the paper cups and wrapped bagels to her. "I pay for quality, not price. Expensive doesn't always equal good, especially when it comes to food."
"For once, we agree." She followed me to a nearby bench and tucked her dress beneath her thighs before sitting. "We should check the temperature in hell."
The corner of my mouth kicked up, but I flattened it before she noticed.
"One of my favorite restaurants before it closed was this tiny little place in Boston's Chinatown," Vivian said hesitantly, like she was deciding whether or not to share the information with me even as the words left her mouth. "If you weren't looking for it, you'd miss it. The decor looked like something out of the early nineties and the floors were suspiciously sticky, but they had the best dumplings I'd ever tasted."
Curiosity got the better of me. "Why did it close?"
"The owner died, and his son didn't want to take it over. He sold it to someone who turned it into an electronics repair shop." A wistful note entered her voice. "My family and I ate there every week, but I guess we would've stopped going even if it'd stayed open. They only go to Michelin-starred places now. If they saw me eating from a food truck, they'd have a coronary."
I took a slow sip of coffee as I processed what she said.
I'd assumed Vivian was fully under her parents' thumb, but judging by her tone, all was not perfect in the Lau family.
"My brother and I used to go to this place in midtown when we were kids," I said. "Moondust Diner. The neighborhood was a tourist trap, but the diner had the best milkshakes in the city. Two dollars, glasses almost as big as our heads. We went there every week after school until our grandfather found out. He was furious. Said Russos don't frequent cheap diners and assigned someone to walk us home straight after school. We never went back after that."