Trish Wylie - One Summer In New York

“This is the Seventy-Fourth Street development we did about a decade ago.” He pointed out the window when they reached their first destination. “Leonard, can you pull over to the curb?”

Lit from within, the gleaming glass tower shot upward into the night sky. Ethan leaned close to Holly, beside him in the backseat, to show off some details.

“We did the first story with a wider base, and then the remaining twenty-nine floors in a slender tower coming up in the middle. The larger platform of the first level allows for greenery to encircle building.”

“Is the first-story garden accessible?” Holly asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes. It was designed so that employees in the offices can go outside into green space whenever they want.”

Their next destination was Forty-First Street.

“This one is over twenty-five years old. It was the last project my father worked on before he died. Here they had the issue of erecting new construction in between two buildings from the nineteen-thirties,” he explained.

“New York is amazing like that, isn’t it?” Holly seemed to understand him.

“You can see that we did not build right up against the buildings on either side. We created those cement walkways and benches.” He pointed. “We built our structure thinner than we might have, so that occupants in the buildings on either side could still see out of their windows.”

Ethan was enjoying this tremendously. He was so proud of what his father, Uncle Mel and Aunt Louise had produced. He loved to visit the Benton properties that his father had helped construct. They were all he had left of his dad. Steel, glass and concrete. But they were monuments that would endure for years to come.

They rode downtown to look at a low-rise housing development near the East River. Holly asked a million questions about why a door was placed where it was and what materials had been used for what.

Next was a refurbishment in Greenwich Village from the eighteen-nineties. “We spent a fortune on those windows!”

“They look original.” Holly nodded in appreciation.

“That was the idea.”

Then Ethan had Leonard park curbside in front of the massive Chelsea construction zone. The steel skeleton columns were up for all five buildings. Architectural renderings of what the finished project would look like were hung on fences and announced it to be “Benton Chelsea Plaza.”

“This is all one property?” Holly was surprised by the size of the site.

“Five buildings of living, working and retail space. And I have commissioned a talented and, I might add, beautiful painter to do the artwork for the public spaces.”

“The Chelsea project! This is it!”

Despite the cold, she lowered the car window and jutted out half of her torso to get a better view. Ethan bent forward to get an arm in front of her and pointed out some features.

Although he’d make sure Aunt Louise received the accolades, this venture was really all his. He’d made the difficult decisions and agonized over the setbacks. He knew this endeavor would have made Uncle Mel and his father proud if they had been alive to see it. And it would allow Aunt Louise to go into retirement on a high note.

His chest pressed into Holly’s back as he pointed through the window. Impulse ordered him to move her scarf aside, so that he could kiss the back of her neck. Sheer will kept him from doing so. But it was being sorely tested in this close proximity.

It wasn’t difficult to envision losing power over himself in an instant and laying her down on the car seat, climbing on top of her and delving into her softness. A softness he might not ever be able to return from.

Which was not at all part of their deal.

In fact, that kiss at dinner had been much too much. He himself had been startled by the force of it. He could sense it had unbalanced Holly as well.

He’d only meant to enhance their charade with some harmless and sanctioned affection. Prior to that his “guard and defend” strategy had helped him withstand her casual pats on his arm and his back all evening. Yet his own lips had barely touched hers when they’d begun to demand more, and he hadn’t restrained himself in time. That kiss had been out of the scope of what was necessary in both intensity and duration.

His actions had overpowered him—a phenomenon he wasn’t accustomed to. Lesson learned.

He forced himself back to describing the project. “For Building One we have leases for three fine dining restaurants and a food court of six casual establishments.”

“So all that open space will be outdoor seating?”

“Exactly. And we will have a retractable awning with heating units for the colder months.”

“I can imagine it.”

He continued telling her about the plaza’s features. As with everything Benton Worldwide built, Ethan hoped to live up to architecture’s fundamental principle of providing a building with both form and function for its users.

“I just thought of one other building I would like to take you to see. It is not a Benton property, but I think you will agree it has merit.”

* * *

“You’ve brought me to the Empire State Building?” As she and Ethan got out of the car Holly craned her neck up at the monolith.

“As long as we were looking at New York architecture,” he said, nodding, “I thought we ought to give this grand dame her due.”

Taking her hand, Ethan led her into the Art Deco lobby, with its twenty-four-karat gold ceiling murals and marble walls. “Whew!” she whistled.

“Do you want to go up to the top?” he asked.

“Heck, yes.”

But as they rode the escalator up one floor to the ticketing level memory slapped Holly hard.

She didn’t mention to Ethan that she had been here once before. With Ricky. They’d come to New York for a long summer weekend. Stayed in a cheap hotel room in New Jersey.

The Empire State Building had been one of the sights Holly had most wanted to see on their trip. The weather had been hot and humid and the ticket lines crowded with tourists. Unlike tonight—late on a winter Wednesday.

Ricky had got impatient. He’d wanted a beer. He’d tugged her back down to street level, found a bar and that had been the last Holly had seen of the Empire State Building.

“Are you nervous about the elevator ride up?” Ethan asked, reacting to what must be showing on her face.

“No! I was just...um...let’s go!”

Rocketing into the sky, Holly felt excitement pump through her veins. She was happy to leave old memories as far behind as she was leaving the asphalt of Thirty-Fourth Street and Fifth Avenue.

When they reached the top Ethan guided her quickly through the indoor viewpoints and exhibits to the outside observation deck.

And there it was.

Three hundred and sixty degrees of New York in the dazzling clear night.

It was utterly freezing. Two sorts of chills ran through her—one from the cold and the other sheer awe.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” That was all she could say.

The city was so glorious, with the grid of its streets, the grandeur of its buildings and the galaxies of its lights.

They passed a few other visitors as they circled the deck. Holly gawked at Times Square. At Central Park. The Chrysler Building. The Statue of Liberty. The Hudson River.

She begged for a second lap around. “Let’s take selfies!” She grinned as she pulled out her phone.

“You look very beautiful,” Ethan said in a husky voice. “Your cheeks are pink from the cold.”

She sensed him watching her more than he was looking at the views. He’d seen the sight of Manhattan before. It was probably all ho-hum to a global traveler like him. He had seen all the wonders of the world. And was probably amused at Holly’s enthusiasm.