New York, Actually (From Manhattan with Love 4)

Hand shaking, she put her empty glass of champagne back on a passing tray and turned to leave.

He caught her arm. “Wait,” he said, his voice urgent. “Something doesn’t feel right about this. Why didn’t you tell me the truth? And don’t talk to me about ‘professional distance.’ You’re afraid of something. You’re hiding something. Does this have to do with why you left London? Something to do with the last guy?”

Her heart was pounding. She didn’t answer and his hand tightened on her arm.

“Tell me.”

Why not? He was going to find out anyway. Nothing she did, or said, now was going to change that. “If you type Dr. Kathleen Parker into a search engine, you’ll find the answers you’re looking for.”

“Kathleen Parker? Any other names I should know?” She pulled away, trying to work out why she felt so sick.

She’d hurt men before. Men she’d been more deeply involved with. What she and Daniel shared was nothing more than superficial fun, so why did she feel so bad?

“Kathleen Molly Parker is my full name. These days I use Molly. Once you’ve looked me up, you’ll understand why.” And that would be it. No more secrets. He’d watch that awful, humiliating video on YouTube. He’d see for himself what she was like. Telling him about it was one thing, but witnessing it was another.

There’s something wrong with you.

Turning away, she hurried across the terrace to the stairs, her shoes biting into her feet.

She made it into the elevator and heard his voice.

“Molly! Molly, wait.”

There was no way she was waiting.

She hit the button hard, decisively, and the doors closed just as he reached her.

She shut her eyes with relief, knowing that once he’d looked her up, he wouldn’t be following her.

Whatever they’d had, whatever they’d shared, it was over.

She had no idea why she felt so bad about that.

Fourteen

Molly hammered on the door of Mark and Gabe’s apartment.

Mark answered the door, his distracted look turning to a smile when he saw her. “Molly! I wasn’t expecting you this early. Valentine is glued to a reality dog show on TV. You can’t pull him away now.”

“I’m in trouble.” Her pulse was racing and her palms were clammy.

“Trouble?” Mark scanned her face and his smile faded. “What kind of trouble?”

“He knows.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes and realized her hand was shaking. “I wasn’t expecting to see him until tomorrow, but he showed up at the Met and Brett introduced me as Aggie. Not his fault. He thought he was helping. And he was angry.”

“Brett was angry?”

“Daniel. And—I’ve upset him. I always upset people. I warned him, but he didn’t listen. He should have listened. But he didn’t and now I’ve managed to screw up my whole life in one evening. And I was so happy. But that’s how it goes, isn’t it? One minute you’re minding your own business, living your life, building a good career, and the next moment there’s a hashtag and everyone has an opinion, and suddenly you’re that woman who gives advice on relationships even though you have no actual experience of relationships, and truly I never really got that part because you don’t have to travel the world to teach geography, but most of all I didn’t want to hurt him.” And what was he going to think? Maybe she would have told him about the whole Rupert thing eventually, but not right now, not like this. She would have waited until they knew each other better. Until there was less likelihood of him judging her.

“Whoa, wait a minute, back up. Who have you hurt? Daniel? Why was he at the Met? You look fabulous, by the way. Love the dress. That blue and those crisscross straps— gorgeous.”

She didn’t care about the dress. She didn’t care about anything except what Daniel was doing right now. What he was going to think of her.

Valentine came bounding to the door, barking in ecstasy.

She bent to hug him, soothed by his presence. She stroked his smooth coat and breathed in his familiar doggy smell, overwhelmed by love. “I should have stayed in with you tonight. You’re my best boy. I don’t know why Daniel was at the Met.” She straightened, her head still spinning, the panic eating away at her stomach. “They want him to write a book, or something. What are the chances? And last night was so great, Mark. For the first time in my life I had wild, crazy sex and it was amazing because I wasn’t worrying about love or any of that stuff. It’s the first time I’ve ever broken anything during sex. I thought it was all great, but it isn’t—”

“Wait. You broke something?” Mark stepped back, scanning her for signs of injury and she gave a wobbly smile.