‘You were on your way home,’ she said, waving her hand. He liked her nail polish. Dark pink. Sexy, but not obviously so. He’d always liked that about her. ‘I’ll get the bill,’ she added with more conviction.
Jim felt a wave of panic. He didn’t want her to go. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask, but once she stood up and walked out of the bar, there was a strong chance he would never see her again. After all, they’d discussed Casa D’Or, and in a city of ten million people, what were the chances of them bumping into each other?
‘So who is she?’ he said, groping around the silence.
‘Who?’
‘The friend you were going to set me up with.’
‘She’s called Sarah. British. Works at Whizzfeed, the website.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘You mean is she hot?’ smiled Jennifer, looking at him from under her long lashes.
‘I’m nothing if not p
redictable,’ he laughed, knowing it was both a terrible and yet brilliant idea. If he was to date Jennifer’s friend, there would be parties, double dates, invitations to the Hamptons; he’d be with another woman, sure, but he’d also be with her.
Yes, he had to push on with this idea, as ridiculous as it sounded.
‘You’ll like her,’ said Jennifer, after a moment. ‘She’s fun. Give me your number and I’ll set it up,’ she added as she left a twenty-dollar bill on a silver platter.
He followed her out, up the iron steps back on to the street. A few spots of rain fell from the sky, and she pulled her collar up around her neck. Soon she would be home. Connor would be waiting. He imagined a couple of little yappy dogs jumping up at the door as she came in.
‘Where do you live?’ she asked, giving him a slow, rueful smile.
‘I’ve got a flat in the West Village.’
‘A flat?’
‘OK, apartment. In fact, back home we’d call it a bedsit. I’d heard Manhattan houses were small, but there is literally about a foot either side of my bed.’
‘I’m heading the other way . . .’
‘Let me call you a cab,’ he said, stepping into the street and raising his arm to call a taxi to a stop.
She turned to face him, pulling her coat a little tighter across her chest. Jim couldn’t help noticing how the soft grey of the wool was exactly the same shade as her eyes. And in that moment, he was blind to everything else around him.
‘It’s been really good to see you, Jim,’ she said softly as she opened the door and climbed in. ‘We should do it again.’
‘We could meet for breakfast or something,’ he said, wondering if she had been feeling any of the emotions he’d been experiencing over the last hour.
‘Breakfast?’ she said wryly.
‘Power breakfast. Isn’t that what New Yorkers do?’
‘Maybe back in the eighties,’ she laughed as the taxi door slammed shut.
‘Lunch, then,’ he said, knocking on the window, hoping that she could hear him.
She nodded and smiled, a big, wide-open smile, and he wasn’t sure if it was spots of rain on the window or whether her eyes had a sparkle.
As the taxi moved off into traffic, he stood and watched until she disappeared from sight, knowing in a closed-off corner of his heart that he had just unlocked a Pandora’s box that should never have been opened.
Chapter Seven
1994