“Fine,” Caine snapped, a telltale flush visible on his cheekbones. “I’ll find you some damn sweatpants.”

I grinned at his back as he wandered back into the walk-in. “A wise decision, Mr. Carraway.”

“Lexie, good to see you, sweetheart,” Effie greeted me warmly as I walked toward her wearing the Red Sox T-shirt and sweatpants that were held up at the waist with one of Caine’s ties. She wrapped her strong arms around me, enveloping me in her familiar sweet scent of vanilla and sugar.

“You too.” I gave her a squeeze and stepped back, my eyes automatically going to the dining table. It was covered with food. There were pancakes, maple syrup, eggs over easy, bacon, muffins …

My belly suddenly let out a hungry little rumble.

“Effie, this looks amazing as always.” Caine kissed her papery cheek and then immediately homed in on the table.

As he settled in at the head of it, I shot Effie an amused smile. “I guess I should learn to cook.”

She grinned back at me. “Somehow I think you’re doing just fine without it, but if you want a teacher I could show you some of my recipes.”

“I’d love that.” I followed her to the table and we settled at either side of Caine, across from each other. Feeling suddenly ravenous, I dug in with as much enthusiasm as Caine did. Effie’s pancakes practically melted in my mouth, they were so fluffy, her bacon was crisp and full of flavor, and her eggs were just how I liked them. I dipped my toast into egg yolk. “Your husband must have been a very happy man, Effie.”

She swallowed a piece of bacon and nodded, her eyes glinting. “Oh, very. We had a good life together. A great life.”

“You met at the theater, right?”

“There’s more to it than that.” She smiled mysteriously.

I was curious, but I didn’t want to intrude where I wasn’t welcome. “That sounds intriguing.”

Effie’s whole face lit up. “You want to hear it?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Caine chuckled at Effie’s delight as she leaned over her plate and began her story. “It was 1960 and I was about to turn twenty-three. I was playing Maria in West Side Story. I was also completely infatuated with my asshole of a director, Albert Reis. Of course I didn’t think he was an asshole at the time.” She gave me a girlish smile. “I was sunk deep in my crush, but Reis wasn’t interested. So, one night after the show when this handsome, wealthy industrialist from my hometown stopped by my dressing room to pay his regards, I agreed to go on a date with him. Nicky was fun and sweet and he was a real gentleman with me, but I took him for granted. I kept him on a string, all the while hoping the enigmatic and artistic Reis would finally pay me some attention.

“I forgot Nicky got wealthy for a reason. He was smart—a perceptive cookie, my Nicky. He realized I was infatuated with Reis and he broke things off with me.” She appeared sheepish as she remembered the moment. “He was really mad at me. Told me to go to hell. I was shaken up by it. I didn’t want to hurt him … but I didn’t realize until he went back to Boston and was in all the society papers for philandering around that I was shaken up because I actually had feelings for him.”

My breakfast forgotten, I rested my chin on my hand and whispered, “So, what did you do?”

“I found out when his next trip to New York was and I cornered him at his favorite restaurant. I told him I wanted him back.”

“That was brave.”

“Maybe. It was also fruitless. Nicky told me he wasn’t some toy I could just set aside and then pick up as soon as another girl reached for it.”

“Oh boy.”

“Exactly. I had to work my butt off to get him back. I made sure I was at all the same parties and I made certain sure that he knew I was there for him.”

I grinned. “You wore him down.”

Effie surprised me by shaking her head as she dimmed with regret. “I really hurt him. He’d fallen in love with me, you see, and I broke his heart. I’d lost his trust. He wasn’t sure of my affections anymore, and the fact that I was a damn good actress didn’t help him believe me when I said I was for real. Plus … I was never very good at making myself really vulnerable. So he doubted my sincerity.

“Anyway, he started dating this one girl in particular and, well … that hurt. A lot. They were together for only a few weeks, but everyone kept telling me how serious she was about him. One night we were at the same party and rumors met my ears that he was planning on proposing to this girl. Well, I couldn’t hide how I felt. I was so used to being able to turn on a smile even when I was sad, but not then. I had to get out of there. Our friends and acquaintances realized what was going on and it was a spectacle for them, you know. Word made it to Nicky about my reaction and he was concerned enough to come after me.” She rolled her eyes, as if mocking the drama that had played out between her and her late husband. “Finding me in floods of tears finally got through his thick noggin and he believed me when I told him I loved him.” Her grin was wicked. “Of course his passionate reaction to that news meant we had to get married, if you know what I mean.”

Caine groaned beside me. “Effie, a monkey would know what you mean. No sex talk. It’s disturbing.”

She just laughed. “Anyway, the moral of my story is that sometimes you’ve got to let yourself be vulnerable even when it’s the scariest thing in the world. You can reap the rewards—I’ll tell you that.” Her pointed look toward Caine did not go unmissed, and he braced himself.