Trish Wylie - One Summer In New York

The mere thought halted Holly in place. A home of her own. Filled with noise and food and laughter and love. Beautiful toddlers running around with reddish-brown tufts of hair falling onto their foreheads. Tall Ethan reaching down to hold little hands.

Did he ever think about having children?

He’d frozen too, holding a spoon in his hand, also lost in contemplation. Was he picturing the same thing?

He’d be a good father. The way he put so much care and thought into his aunt and what was best for her was like the devotion and concern she had for Vince, having practically raised her brother single-handedly because her mother had proved incapable. She had more of that kind of love to give.

Someday.

It wasn’t going to be now.

That was much further far down the line. If ever.

No, this current arrangement was ideal. A new life for herself in New York. Not being pulled down by other people. Putting herself first. Free at last.

Everything was upfront with Ethan. There was zero chance of her being hurt. Zero love. Zero disappointment. So he was intelligent and intense? And gorgeous? That was ultimately irrelevant to the duties at hand. They were two professionals, doing their jobs.

Holly used tongs to crown each dinner plate with roasted carrots. Forging ahead. Although she wished her fingernails weren’t spotted with paint.

“We did it. Dinner is served.”

As she carried two plates to the dining table, she saw Fernando’s hand atop of Louise’s. The older woman’s face did seem to have a livelier blush with his attention on her. Even if Fernando’s intentions were less than honorable, Holly could understand the purpose he filled. Life was all about compromises.

Ethan brought the other two plates. While he poured water she ducked back into the kitchen for rolls and butter before sitting to eat.

“Holly, this is delicious,” Louise proclaimed.

“I’m glad you like it. You sound surprised?”

“Indeed. I don’t know that Ethan has ever dated a woman before who would know how to make an old-fashioned pot roast.”

Ethan leaned to pat Holly’s arm. She smiled at the unspoken compliment, as a fiancée should. “Aunt Louise, I have never dated a woman who has likely ever eaten pot roast, let alone prepared it.”

“Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“I took a course in cooking classic American comfort food,” Holly fibbed, without missing a beat. Louise didn’t need to know that if she hadn’t taught herself to cook she and Vince wouldn’t have eaten. “I’ll have to make cheeseburgers for you next time.”

“Now, Ethan, dear,” Louise said, “you have been keeping your delightful lady a secret. You must tell us everything about where and how you met,” she insisted.

Fernando buttered a roll and gobbled it down.

Holly and Ethan, the happy couple, gazed lovingly at each other as if to signal that they were off and running. They’d been rehearsing. Now they’d be put to the test.

“Aunt Louise, I wanted to be absolutely sure of myself before I said anything to you,” Ethan began. “Holly’s brother is Vince Motta. He works for us in the Miami office.”

Aunt Louise listened attentively as she continued eating. Fernando chomped on chunks of meat that he yanked off his fork with his lower teeth.

“It was at the groundbreaking ceremony for the Coconut Grove project,” Holly continued. For accuracy, Ethan had filled her in on the details of that luncheon. “We were both reaching for the same shrimp on the buffet table. Our hands touched.”

“And it was magic.”

Ethan fluttered his eyelashes, which made Holly giggle.

She’d visualized this fairy tale over and over—to the point that now she would have sworn it had actually happened. The elegant outdoor celebration... Her in a pink dress, talking to her brother, Vince, and a couple of his coworkers... After excusing herself she left them to explore the lavish seafood table. And just as she reached for the plumpest, juiciest-looking shrimp on the tray a hand from the opposite direction nabbed the same one.

She tugged on her end of the shrimp, the other hand on the other end, until their fingers intertwined.

They turned to look at each other.

He surrendered the crustacean.

The skies parted.

The angels cascaded down from heaven playing trumpets.

“It was love at first shrimp...” They sighed in unison.

“How romantic.” Louise was sufficiently charmed.

“We talked for hours that afternoon.” Ethan laid it on thick. “But then I had to board a plane for Bangkok.”

“We didn’t see each other again for months.”

Caught up in their “reminiscing,” they moved their faces toward each other. Involuntarily. As if pulled together by a magnet.

Ethan bent in and brought his mouth to Holly’s. Only it wasn’t a feather-soft fake dinner kiss, meant to convince his aunt. No, his unexpected lips were bold. And hot. And they smashed against hers.

Their insistence didn’t let her pull away. She swirled inside. Got lost in the moment. Let it go on several beats too many.

Until she could finally separate herself from him.

Holly feared that everyone at the table could hear her heart pounding outside her chest.

Ethan looked as shocked as she felt. But after a moment he picked up his fork and resumed eating. Following his lead, she did the same.

Fortunately neither Louise nor Fernando had noticed anything strange. Holly and Ethan were engaged, after all. Why wouldn’t they spontaneously kiss?

But he wasn’t helping her any with a kiss like that. Let that be a warning to her.

Louise inquired, “Are your people from Miami, dear?”

Holly barely had a moment to catch her breath—nowhere near enough time to recover from that inebriating kiss before there came the next flaming hoop she had to jump through. She didn’t have “people.” And the people she did have she needed to keep a secret. Her people were not Benton kind of people.

“No. Fort Pierce.”

“Fort Pierce?” Fernando tossed back.

Certainly not the kind of stylish metropolis full of chic hotels, South Beach beauties and all-night parties that would interest him.

“We met again last year here in New York, when Holly was exhibiting paintings at a Soho gallery,” Ethan fibbed to move their story forward.

“Then wasn’t the next time when you came down and we visited Key West?”

He leaned over to brush the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. “It was then that I knew for sure.”

His tender touch across Holly’s face made it a struggle to keep her eyes open. Especially after that not so gentle kiss had rocked her to the bone.

Ethan sensed he had made her uncomfortable. “More water, anyone?” he said quickly, refilling glasses without waiting for an answer.

Thankfully giving her a moment to regroup.

After a couple of quiet sips Holly ventured, “I’m so happy we’re finally together in New York. I haven’t been here in five years.”

Ethan, Louise and Fernando all looked at her.

Oh, no! Oh! No!

Fernando’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you had a painting exhibition here last year?”

Gulp. Ethan’s soft stroke to her face had thrown her off course. Let her talk before she thought.

Dead silence. Which was finally broken by the sound of a fax coming in on Ethan’s desk.

“I meant that I haven’t explored the city in years.” Holly took a shot. “That was a work trip. I hardly left the gallery.”

“Shall we have dessert?” Ethan did his best to defuse the moment.

“Let me help you, dear.” Louise slowly rose and followed Ethan into the kitchen.

Fernando kept his glare on Holly one uncomfortable moment longer before he shot up to strut to the liquor cabinet.