“You like jewelry?”
“Yes,” she murmured, “but that isn’t why I stop here. It’s a romantic place.”
“It’s a store.”
“It’s a store that sells dreams. I often come here late at night. There’s something sparkly and perfect about it.” She shook her head and gestured with her head toward a couple standing to the left of them, hand in hand. “See that woman’s face?” she whispered. “She looks ecstatic.”
“Of course she’s ecstatic. He’s about to open his wallet and spend a fortune on her.”
The couple wandered off hand in hand and Matilda sighed.
“That isn’t why she’s ecstatic. She’s happy because she’s with him. It was in her eyes and in her smile. He makes her happy and they were choosing something that would tell the world they love each other. I’ve always thought working here must be fun. You see people at their best.”
“And at their most terrified. I thought he looked pale. People working here probably need advanced emergency response skills.”
It made her laugh. “You’re not a romantic.”
“I’m a realist. A pragmatist. So far, all I know about you is that you spend a lot of time observing other people’s lives, have a secret life as a writer and have another job that you won’t share. You’re a secretive person?”
“Not secretive.” She paused, realizing that was going to sound ridiculous given everything she’d told him. “I’m not always that great in big crowds of people. I’m more of a one-on-one person.”
“One-on-one?”
The atmosphere cracked with sexual tension, intense and deliciously unfamiliar. She paused, uncertain what to do with it.
This wasn’t love, was it? This was fun. And there was nothing wrong with having fun.
So why did it feel as if she were standing on the top of a very high cliff, about to plunge into deep water?
She wasn’t a brave person. She’d never been a brave person.
She lived a small life in this big city, a tiny flickering candle eclipsed by bigger, brighter lights.
They walked past the Plaza, to the edge of Central Park.
The first spots of rain started to fall, scenting the air and dampening her emergency dress for the second time in one night.
If she was going to make a move, it had to be now. Right now.
But she wasn’t. She couldn’t.
“So here we are.” She kept her voice light, trying to mask her disappointment and frustration with herself. “Central Park. Your final destination. Where do you live?”
“I’m staying in an apartment a couple of blocks from here.”
It was impossible not to be impressed. “Well, if you can afford to rent around here, then whatever it is you do with your life, you must be doing it very well.”
The rain was falling more heavily now, huge cooling drops that landed on the trees with a hollow patter, drenching leaves and saturating paths.
“Where do you live?”
She thought of her cramped apartment and then took a deep breath. “I live in New York City, and that’s all that matters to me. I’d rather live in a small room here than a big apartment anywhere else in the world.” Not that she’d be able to afford a big apartment anywhere, but the principle was true. She tipped her head back, looking at the buildings rising above the shadows that were Central Park. The rain trickled through her hair and she smiled. “There is something magical about this city. I always have the sense that something unexpected could happen.”
“Unexpected?” His voice was soft and he drew her against him with purpose. “You mean like this?”
And without giving her a chance to ask what “this” was, he took her face in his hands, lowered his head and kissed her.
What happens when Matilda decides to follow her heart and take a risk on the delicious man she’s just met?