“Ready to check out the rings inside?” Mike asked.
“Sure.” But her gaze strayed to the jewel-filled window once again.
“Is there one you really like?” he asked.
“Those.” She leaned forward and tapped lightly, indicating a set of simple two-toned rings.
A woman with substance. His mind ran through their earlier banter and he realized she’d meant every word. “They’re beautiful,” he said.
She turned to look at him. “But not Peter’s taste.” A frown touched her lips and a corresponding sadness flashed in her gentle brown eyes.
“You’re right. They wouldn’t stop traffic. Pete would prefer something a little more... noticeable.”
She sighed.
“You obviously know him well, too,” Mike said.
She smiled. “We understand each other.”
Did they? Mike had spent but a few minutes with each and he’d already begun to wonder. Watching Carly stare longingly at the rings in the window, he grew concerned.
“It’s getting late,” she murmured. “I hope he realizes these things can’t be rushed and we have to have them ordered, sized and engraved. Then there’s the tuxedos, the final flower arrangements, the...”
“Relax. No list is set in stone. It’ll all get done in time.”
“Only if we follow my schedule.”
Mike placed a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, realizing his mistake too late. Her skin felt like fine silk beneath his roughened fingers. He breathed in deeply. She looked like sunshine and smelled like vanilla. A potent combination, he discovered.
“What if we get a cup of coffee and go over this schedule of yours? I’m sure you’d relax once you see everything will fall into place.”
Her frantic gaze darted from his hand, which remained on her shoulder, to the rings in the storefront window. “Coffee’s not such a good idea.”
He ought to let her go. After his overwhelming reaction to her, distance seemed the safest route. “We’ve got the time,” he muttered instead.
“Pick up any magazine or newspaper. Caffeine’s not good for you.” She stepped toward the street. Before he realized her intent, a yellow taxi screeched to a halt.
“Thanks for meeting me. I’m sure with all the wedding things going on I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.” Her rambling clearly stated that she hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Those huge brown eyes told another story.
“Count on it,” he said with a smile.
No sooner had she darted into the waiting cab than the taxi pulled away from the curb.
“Ah, the joys of living in New York City.” He watched as the brake lights disappeared into the maze of traffic, taking Carly farther away.
* * *
Carly stepped into the familiar lobby of Peter’s building. The smell of fresh paint permeated the air. Clean white walls surrounded chrome and mirrors. She wasn’t surprised. Thanks to the cost of the apartment and the condominium fees, the tenants in this Upper East Side luxury building demanded quality service and maintenance. Peter was no exception.
“Evening, Miss Wexler.”
“Hi, George.” Carly smiled at the gray-haired doorman she’d known as long as she’d known Peter. “Is he in?” she asked.
“Flew past me not ten minutes ago.”
“Good. Do me a favor, don’t announce me.” She leaned closer to the small desk. “I want to surprise him.”
The older man grinned. “Not a problem. You be good,” he said with a laugh.