Midnight At Tiffany's (From Manhattan with Love 0.50)

“It’s never too late.”

“Maybe not in fiction, but in real life there are some obstacles that can’t be overcome so easily.”

“Like pride, you mean?”

“Ouch.” His mouth tilted at the corners. “That was harsh, Lara.”

“Not harsh. Honest. There are no obstacles that can’t be overcome when you care about someone, especially if you miss him.”

“I never said I missed him.”

“It’s in your voice.”

He turned to look at her, the expression in his blue eyes impossible to read. “Maybe I do. Growing up, we were close. We used to go sailing together. We restored an old boat. In fact, we did pretty much everything together.” The faint smile on his face told her that those had been happy times.

“Who do you sail with now?”

“I don’t.” The smile faded from his voice and his face and he lengthened his stride. She wondered if he was running from his past or her. It was the first time in her life she’d been grateful for her long legs.

As they drew farther from Times Square, the crowd thinned a little.

“You’re the first man I’ve met whose legs are longer than mine.”

He glanced at her legs. “Your legs are a work of art.”

“Good art or bad art?”

“Definitely good art.” His tone had softened again. “You walk this way often?”

“Yes. I like looking in store windows.” Particularly stores she’d never be able to afford. “This is one of my favorites.”

She paused outside the glittering windows of Tiffany’s and he raised his eyebrows.

“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 was 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 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.