The stage: All of New York City.
The objective: To cause as much mayhem as possible.
To be fair—that was Nicholas’ objective, not mine. While as a publicist, I should have been focused on stopping him, my only real goal became to somehow stay inside my dress.
“This is, without a doubt, the cruelest thing you’ve ever done to me.”
A gust of wind threw open my trench coat once more, and I yank
ed it shut. The winter winds and busy pedestrian streets hadn’t been kind to my particular ensemble, but Nick was in such festive spirits, he didn’t seem to mind.
“That’s not true,” he countered, cheerfully pausing to take a selfie with some adoring fans. “What about the time I took you to the serpentarium?”
A belated shudder ran up my spine.
“I thought we had agreed to never talk about that...”
A practiced grin spread up the side of his face, as he knelt down to be at the same height as two middle-school-aged girls. A neon flash lit up their faces, then he turned that grin to me.
“I think it was a day of existential growth. Facing your fears, and whatnot.”
I studied him carefully for a moment, then turned sharply on my heel.
“I quit.”
“Oh—come on!” He flashed the twelve-year-olds a conspiratorial wink, before taking off after me, weaving his way through the crowd. When he finally caught up, I was in the process of hailing down a cab. He arrived just in time to wave it away again. “Abby—I’m sorry, okay? I was actually taking you out today to apologize.”
“To apologize,” I repeated caustically. “You were. Really.”
Again—they weren’t phrased as questions.
“Of course.” His blue eyes widened with angelic innocence. “How could you doubt me?”
I smiled sweetly, just as angelic as him.
“For what, pray tell, were you apologizing?”
“For your dress. For your date. For...the lobster.” He leaned in closer, trying very hard not to smile. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me call up Cameron—apologize in person.”
A flash of indignation rose within me, paired with an exasperated sort of amusement. I turned back to the street so he wouldn’t see my grin.
In the time he’d spent abroad, Nick had developed a faint English accent. Whenever he said words like ‘apologize,’ it came through even stronger.
Not that he apologized much.
“You’d do that?” I asked, playing along. “For Cameron? For me?”
His eyes twinkled—he knew he had me.
“Well you know I’d do anything for Cameron. And for you...? I could make a call.”
My lips turned up in a reluctant smile, and all was forgiven once more.
This little dance was nothing new for us. Since Nick had discovered the wonders of the New York subway system, I’d quit at least once a week for the last year.
“So, you’re apologizing, eh?” I prompted as we began walking once more.
Much to my surprise, he offered me his arm. It wasn’t like that never happened, but as much as we bantered back and forth, the two of us tended to occupy very specific roles. This morning, however, I took it gratefully. I had already slipped twice on the winter ice.