She was surprised that he didn’t decide for her. Susan moved to look into all of the white boxes that were now open and releasing their steam. The combination of aromas made her stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten much at lunch and it was almost seven o’clock now. Together they set the table in front of the massive wall of windows. Susan pulled the wineglasses out and poured the Chardonnay before taking a seat opposite André’s. He faced the windows and the skyline beyond.
“This is a beautiful apartment.” André twisted around in his seat, looking at the walls and rooms of the apartment Susan called home. “I thought you might have roommates.”
“No roommates,” she said. “I use the second bedroom as an office/studio.”
He nodded. “I forgot you’re a photographer.”
“Why don’t we talk about Minette and Jerome?”
Susan had been around long enough to know that André’s appearance here, and even his invitation to dinner, was due to an attraction. It wasn’t just one-sided. She was attracted to him too. She tried to hide it, but he seemed to come by her department more often than she expected, and each time her heart did its own dance.
She hadn’t expected to entertain him in her apartment. The place was spacious, but it felt smaller when he was next to her. Susan was tall for a woman, standing at nearly five feet seven inches. André was over six feet, and next to him, she felt short.
“You should tell me something about yourself.”
“I’m not Minette.”
“No, but you know her father. So tell me about you and... Jerome.” He hesitated before saying Jerome’s name.
Susan took a bite of her sweet-and-sour chicken and drank some of her wine. She knew this conversation wasn’t about Jerome and her. André was fishing and she was bait.
“I spent a few years in Europe. Italy, then Paris. I met Jerome there. He’s a photographer. I was a tourist. He took my picture, and I told him he couldn’t use it without my permission and I wasn’t giving it.”
André laughed. “I can hear just the way you’d say that.”
“We started to talk. I eventually gave him the permission he needed. It’s that photo over there.” She pointed to the wall above a table by the door.
André got up and walked over to it. “Wow,” he said. “This is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Jerome had snapped her picture while she had been sitting on the stone steps of the Teatro Romano di Verona. She’d been reading a book and had suddenly looked up. The light had hit her at just the right angle, and her face had held a wistful expression. It was at that moment that the camera had captured her.
Once he had resumed his seat, Susan continued her story. “When the photo arrived, I went to his studio to thank him, and I saw all the cameras and photos. I started asking questions, and eventually he handed me a camera and told me to go and take some photos. Since I already had a cell phone full of photos, I showed them to him and he said the camera he gave me was better. I tried it and several days later went back. He told me all the things that were wrong with the photos.” Susan laughed at the memory. “Then he sent me out again. I think he was trying to get rid of me, but I kept coming back. Eventually I showed up with a photo that silenced him.”
“It must have been good.”
“Or the worst thing ever recorded.”
“What did he say?” André had his elbows on the table and the wineglass in both hands.
“He said that was the best an amateur photographer could do.”
André smiled.
“That’s when he began training me. Later we became friends and he told me about Minette.”
“What does he want you to do?”
“I’m not sure. Get her to talk to him, I guess.”
“Wait a minute.” André pushed back from the table. “He’s not ill, is he? Dying and wanting to reconnect with his daughter before it’s too late.”
“Not in the least.” Susan shook her head. “He’s as strong as an ox, so they say. I’ve seen him hanging from structures that made me cringe so he could get a good shot.”
André had planted a seed in her mind. She’d been back in the States for two years. In that time something could have happened to Jerome. Why was he having a showing now? And why was it important that he see Minette? He hadn’t seen her in years. Could André be right? Was Jerome ill? She had to find out.
“So, when you see your friend, what will you tell her?”
“I guess I’ll have her tell me why she’s reluctant to see her father, and we’ll go from there.”
Susan got up and carried their plates to the kitchen. She rinsed them, put them into the dishwasher and closed the containers of leftovers. When she got back, André was standing in the living room, looking out the windows. Standing next to him, she enjoyed the best part of her apartment.
“I’ll never get tired of this view,” she said.
“It is impressive.”
André took a step closer to her. Everything within her said to move away from him. Yet Susan stood still. André’s hand found hers, and their fingers entwined. Susan looked at their hands. André’s was strong and solid, and she liked the feel of it against hers.
He turned her and slipped an arm around her waist. “It’s time for me to go,” he said, leading her toward the door.
Leaving was the last thing she wanted him to do, but it was the only sane thing. Neither said a word as they walked, but Susan felt as if a universe of questions hung in the air. She searched for something to say, something to break the silence. As they reached the door, she turned to thank him. André faced her at the same time. Any words in her mind were gone. André was close, too close, kissably close.
Her eyes roamed over his face, settling on his mouth. Her throat was suddenly dry. For what felt like the space of a lifetime, Susan hung in suspense. As André’s head bowed toward hers, she found enough sanity to step back.
André cleared his throat. The moment was lost.
* * *
It had been a long night, and Susan had slept badly once she had finally fallen asleep. Why were there so many mirrors in the furniture department? They seemed to mock her by throwing her tired-looking reflection at her from every angle. After childishly sticking her tongue out at herself, she turned away.
André hadn’t kissed her, but had intended to. And she had wanted him to kiss her. The urge had been so strong, she’d come close to letting it happen. That would have been disastrous. Even if she wasn’t in hiding, getting involved with anyone at the store was not a good idea. If things didn’t work out, someone would have to leave. In Susan’s circumstance, quitting was an option, but her heart needed to be consulted on this. What if she really liked André? What if she fell in love?
André didn’t exactly have the reputation for long-term relationships. And that brought her to her own feelings about relationships. She hadn’t had one in a long time. There had been the framing business she’d struggled to keep afloat. She’d poured all of her time and energy into it. A casualty of that, other than the fire, had been losing Harris.
He had been her longtime friend and sometimes boyfriend. While Susan had been deciding on gold-toned frames and locking pictures of wet Paris scenes in shadow boxes, Harris had found a more reliable girlfriend. While Susan had been in Italy, he had gotten married, and from what she’d heard from her mother, a baby was due in October.
Susan wasn’t in love with Harris, but she envied his finding someone who made his life whole. She wondered if that was in the cards for her.
Sighing, she glanced at one of the beds, wanting to climb in it and fall asleep. Closing her eyes, she removed the image from her mind. Feeling a presence, she opened her eyes again. Expecting to see a customer, she was disappointed to find Fred Lang near her. Replacing her disappointment with a smile, she watched him come nearer.
“Fred, what
are you doing here?”
“I heard about the changes in this department and thought we could use some of it to develop a marketing campaign.”
Susan heard the words, but more so she saw the body language. She’d been avoiding Fred since that night in the bar, refusing any invitation for drinks after work. And now he was standing in front of her.
“We haven’t done anything except rearrange the department,” she said, downplaying the effect it was having on sales, but Fred seemed doubtful.
“Maybe,” he said. “Yet the sales figures in this department are on an upward climb. Jessica asked me about showcasing the bedrooms in an upcoming campaign.”
“So you’re here to check it out?” Susan finished for him.
He nodded.
At that moment, Jessica appeared. Susan took a breath. “Wonderful,” she said. “Here’s Jessica. I’m sure she wants to work things out regarding that. I know nothing about it.”
After smiling at Jessica, Susan left them only to run into André the moment she rounded a display section and was out of Fred’s sight. André’s arms came around her as she bumped into him. They were so close that she froze. A moment later, she tried to pull herself out of his arms, but felt resistance. She stopped and glanced up. Then she was in his arms, pressing her body to his and her mouth to his mouth. Susan didn’t stop to think about kissing him. She acted as though she was pushed by her own suppressed emotions.
She could say it was lack of sleep and the fact that his almost kiss of the night before weighed so heavily on her that she had to complete the circle. His mouth was strong and sure against hers, but instead of tamping down her emotions, it ramped them up. Heat flared within her and she raised her arms toward his neck. Suddenly she heard the sound, a chime. She recognized it. The world that had started to spiral stopped on a dime. She realized where they were. People could be watching them.
She took a step back and looked around. Her head was spinning, and Susan forced herself to calm down and tried to regain control of her mind. She’d never before let herself go like she just had with André. And that had been only a brief kiss in a public place. What would it be like...? She stopped the thought.
“I have to go,” she said.
“Not yet,” he said, trying to stop her.
Susan remained where she was, out of his reach. She felt the heat in her face and wondered if she looked like someone who’d just been kissed and found her world rocking?
“We need to talk,” André said.
“No,” she contradicted. “We need to forget this ever happened.”
“I don’t think I’m capable of that.”
People appeared, casually looking at the displays, but no one took notice of them.
“I have to help the customers,” she said, trying to get him to leave.
“We have to talk.” This time his voice emphasized his determination.
“Later,” she whispered.
“I’ll see you at lunch.” André’s statement was a command.
He left her then, and Susan went to ask if any of the customers had questions. She was amazed that her voice sounded normal, even if it was a note higher than usual. When the couple left, she checked her watch. Lunch was an hour away. Susan racked her brain, trying to think of a way to get out of lunch with André.
She could quit. The job was getting complicated anyway. It wasn’t really the job. She liked it. She enjoyed the people she worked with. She even looked forward to interacting with the customers, especially the engaged couples and newlyweds who were looking to furnish their first home. But she didn’t like the complications. And she was the one who had created them. She couldn’t tell him who she really was. What kind of relationship began with deception?
Susan wasn’t one to quit, unless circumstances were dire enough. When her business had burned down, she’d had no choice but to start something new. She wouldn’t quit today, but she might start something new.
At noon she’d meet him head on.
* * *
But before that, Fred returned. This time with a full camera crew. Lights were erected quickly and efficiently, and the photographers began taking photos of the displays.
“What’s going on?” she asked Jessica.
“Apparently Fred decided to put us in the ads for next week,” Jessica whispered conspiratorially.
“That should be good,” Susan said. “It’ll bring in more sales.”
“It will, but I wonder if his reasoning is sound.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s never been to this department before. Mainly he advertises jewelry and fashion. In January there is the obligatory white sale.”
“But now we have new displays, with brighter bedding. It will make a great ad.”
Jessica nodded, but Susan could tell she was skeptical. It was nothing new for Jessica. Until something is proven, Jessica didn’t accept it. Susan was glad she’d passed Jessica’s test and they were now friends.
“Susan—yes, you’ll do fine,” Fred said, inviting her over with his extended arm. “Come over here.” He waved her over.
Susan gave Jessica a questioning look and moved toward Fred. She wasn’t going to get within touching distance of him. He was a little too handsy for her. And in front of the camera people and all of the gawking customers, she didn’t want to cause a scene by decking him.
“The guys thought it would be good if there was a person in the picture, and I agree,” Fred explained.
“Sure, where do you want me to stand?”
The look that passed between Fred and the man holding a large camera wasn’t lost on her.
“I’m not getting in that bed,” she said.
“But it’ll make the scene so much more real,” Fred said.
“Fred, I’m fully dressed and wearing a suit, no less. I won’t make the scene more real.”
“I’d hire someone if we had the time, but I have a deadline.”
“Sorry,” Susan said.
“I’ll do it.”
All eyes turned toward the direction in which the voice had come from. André stood there. Susan’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know when Jessica had moved, but when she spoke, Susan realized she was right behind her.
“Close your mouth,” she whispered.
Susan’s hand immediately went to her mouth.
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Fred was saying, when her attention went back to him. “The photos are yours, so it really could be your bedroom.”
And women would flock to get in bed with someone like André, Susan thought.
“Where do you want me?” he asked.
“It would be best if you dropped the jacket,” one of the photographers said.
“And put on a robe,” a female crew member said.
Susan’s stomach turned somersaults. She heard the sudden intake of breath from the women surrounding the area.
Moments later André had his jacket off. One of the photographers took it and handed him a robe.
He put on the robe and pulled the cover back on the bed, a cover she had chosen and set up. His long legs slid between the sheets, one at a time, slowly, as if they were guiding her eyes as they moved.
Someone gave him directions, but Susan couldn’t hear them. She was in the time warp, and the sound was a slow buzzing noise.
“Let’s get you out of the shot,” Jessica said and led her away.
Safely out of camera range and behind the crowd, Susan reached under her hair and wiped the sweat off the back of her neck. She tried breathing slowly, concentrating on taking air into her lungs. She hadn’t been prepared for her reaction, especially after the kiss only a few minutes earlier.
Neither was she prepared later that day for all of the catcalls about André. Did that gorgeous model come with the bed? More than one person aske
d this question. She smiled congenially and said he didn’t.
The department had been so busy after all the hoopla, Susan forgot about lunch. Apparently, so did André, since he had never appeared after he’d put his jacket back on and had left the department. Susan breathed a little easier, since their confrontation had been postponed. She knew it wasn’t over. André wasn’t the type to let things lie. But she wouldn’t have to deal with it today.
After retrieving her purse and changing her shoes, she left through the employee entrance. As usual, the streets were crowded, but the weather was comfortable. Susan decided to walk. She didn’t live far from the store, and she loved weaving through the streets. New York City was so different from the small town she’d grown up in. Her trips to Paris and Italy had taught her about crowds. Those places were the same, and they were different. New York was home. At least now it was. She didn’t see herself returning to the Midwest. She’d visit, but the beat of this city was home.
She pulled open the glass door to her building and slipped inside. She took two steps into the lobby and saw André. Susan stopped in her tracks.
“I suppose it’s too late for lunch,” he said.
“What are you doing here?” Susan blinked slowly in disbelief. In her head, she was still seeing him in that bed, with one strong arm resting on the coverlet.
“We need to talk, remember?”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“It could,” he said. “But I’m already here.”
Susan wasn’t ready for this conversation. She needed to get her thoughts together. She needed time to think about what she wanted to say or what replies she could have to whatever it was he had to say. But it appeared she was not going to get that time. He was here. Better to do it now than to let it worry her all night.
“All right, but I’d rather not talk here.” She didn’t want him in her apartment. The place was too confining. And she didn’t trust herself. Things could easily get out of control.
“Is there someplace close by we could go?” He looked around as if a restaurant or empty building would magically appear.
Love in New York ; Cherish My Heart Page 6
