Miracle On 5th Avenue (From Manhattan with Love 3)
“I’ll go back when you go back.”
“I’m happy to be left. I walk around New York on my own all the time.”
“Maybe, but right now you’re with me and I don’t want you to walk on your own.”
“So underneath that cynical exterior, you’re a gentleman.”
“It’s because of my cynical exterior that I don’t want you to walk on your own. And now you’ll probably accuse me of being sexist.”
“I don’t think it’s sexist. I think it’s good manners. My grandmother would have liked you.” Her hair flowed from under the wool hat she wore, honey and buttermilk, with strands of gold catching the light. He wanted to catch it in his hands and feel the texture slip through his fingers.
“So will you come back with me?”
“If that’s what it will take to get you writing.” She turned and immediately slipped on a patch of ice.
He caught her easily, steadying her before she could hit the ground.
“Careful.”
Her hand was locked in the front of his coat and he could smell the scent of her hair. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to kiss a woman, but he wanted to kiss Eva. He wanted to kiss her until neither of them could breathe properly, until he didn’t know what day it was and could no longer remember why he’d stayed away from women for so long.
She was the one who pulled away first. “Are you really not looking forward to the ball?”
“About as much as I look forward to completing my tax return.”
“That’s sad. It’s going to be full of wonderful, interesting people.”
“What’s sad is you believing you can find love in a place like that.”
“We’re not all lucky enough to meet the love of our life in kindergarten.”
He knew she was talking about Sallyanne.
He thought about that first day of school, when Sallyanne had stolen his apple. She’d charged him a ransom to get it back.
He’d been six years old.
“You really want to go that badly?”
“Yes.” She was emphatic. “I promised myself that this Christmas I’d get out. I want to dance until my feet hurt. And meet people. Cinderella wouldn’t have met the prince if she’d stayed in the kitchen.”
He sidestepped a patch of ice, tightening his grip on her. “He tracked her down across the land. That makes him a seriously disturbed stalker. With a foot fetish.”
She laughed. “Only you could put that interpretation on it. Go ahead and laugh, but I really want to meet someone and I’m not going to come across anyone trapped indoors. That ball will be full of people like me, having fun, hoping they might get lucky.”
?
?It will be full of strangers. You won’t know anyone.”
“I’ll know you.” Her gaze grazed his and then she looked away quickly, as if she’d put her hand in a flame that was going to burn her. “Everyone is a stranger the first time you meet them.”
“Take some advice from someone who knows more about human nature than you do—be careful how much you reveal.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not stupid and I’ve lived in New York City for a decade.”
“Your honesty scares me. It’s going to get you into trouble.”
She gave him an impish grin. “I’m planning on it. I’ve written my letter to Santa, confessing that I intend to be a really, really bad girl this Christmas.”