Miracle On 5th Avenue (From Manhattan with Love 3)

“I’m at my best in the kitchen. The rest of my life runs away from me sometimes. It’s one of my major flaws, along with talking too much and being terrible in the mornings.”

“You’re not a morning person?”

Eva shook her head. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried cold showers, leaving my alarm clock on the other side of the room— pretty much everything. Nothing works. I don’t wake properly until around ten. I try never to use knives before then.” She pulled a face. “This is terrible. I’m telling you all the worst things about myself. It’s Flaw Friday.” Finally she saw a glimmer of a smile.

“Those are the worst things about you? That you drop your clothes where you stand and hate mornings?”

“Thank you for making it sound like nothing, but believe me it drives my friends insane. We all used to work for the same company before we lost our jobs, and I would have been late every day if they hadn’t dragged me onto the subway in the mornings. There were days when I didn’t even remember the journey.”

“I didn’t know you’d lost your job.”

“We all worked for a company called Star Events. They lost a big piece of business and we were the casualties.” Eva remembered the horrible, churning panic of that day. “As it turned out, it was the best thing that could have happened. We decided that we could do what we did for Star for ourselves. That happens in life sometimes, doesn’t it? Something terrible happens and you think it’s the worst thing ever and then it turns out to be the best.” Realizing how her words could be interpreted she closed her eyes. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t. And you don’t have to tiptoe around me, Eva.”

“It’s another of my flaws,” she muttered, “my lack of filter between my brain and my mouth. I do have some good qualities, but you must know that or you wouldn’t have put me in your book. What are your worst flaws? Apart from the fact that you drink too much and like to lock yourself away on your own.”

“I co

nsider both those elements to be lifestyle choices rather than flaws.” He seemed to relax again. “I’d say my flaws were that I’m single-minded. When I want something, I go after it and not much gets in my way.”

“I don’t see that as a flaw.” She flopped onto his sofa without waiting for an invitation. “I wish I was more focused. I’m very good when it comes to work and cooking, but the rest of my life is a haphazard mess. I have very good intentions, but most of them don’t happen.”

“Like what?”

“Exercise. Paige and Frankie both run, but they run in the mornings when I’m still in a coma. Besides, I can barely walk, let alone run. I always promise myself I’ll go later when I’m properly awake, but then of course I’m busy and the day happens and I come home exhausted and I’m in a coma again. So mostly I just collapse on the bed with Netflix.”

“The upstairs room has been converted into a gym. You’re welcome to use it while you’re here. I’m usually in there at five thirty, but there’s plenty of room for both of us and I have several cardio machines and plenty of free weights.”

“Five thirty? That remark tells me you have a lot to learn about me. The heaviest thing I can lift in the morning is my eyelashes so we won’t be competing for the weights.” But now she knew what was at the top of the curl of stairs. The one part of his apartment that she hadn’t seen. A gym. Not for Lucas Blade the sweaty cram of a public gym, or the bitter cold of a run on the New York streets. “No need to ask if you’re a morning person.”

“I don’t sleep much. I’ve always had a haphazard work pattern. Routine office hours don’t work for me. Writing that way doesn’t work for me. I’m better writing fast.”

“That’s good, given the time you have left to write this particular book. Can it be done?” It sounded like an impossible goal to her.

His mouth slanted into a smile of self-mockery. “I guess we’re going to find out.”

“How can I help? I don’t want to knock on your door and disturb you in the middle of a sentence, but neither do I want you to discover that your muscles have atrophied because you haven’t moved from the chair for days.”

“You can help,” he said, “by not insisting I go to this ball.”

“I’ll agree to anything except that.” She walked to the door. “Get back to work. I’m going to use your gym.”

The gym turned out to be a prime room in the apartment, with glass on three sides opening onto a roof terrace.

She could imagine sitting there in the summer months, staring out across the expanse of Central Park with the buildings of midtown framing the park.

Maybe if she had access to somewhere like this, she’d even feel like working out regularly, although she was unlikely to be tempted at five thirty in the morning.

Shuddering at the thought, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and stepped onto the elliptical.

Switching on her favorite playlist, she worked up a sweat, took a shower and then went downstairs to prepare dinner.

They were having risotto, and perfect risotto required one hundred percent attention.

While she gradually added stock and stirred, she thought about his book.

She was desperate to read a snippet, to see what he’d done to the character that was based on her.