Love in New York ; Cherish My Heart

by Shirley Hailstock

  At the moment, the shoe idea was winning.

  The limousine Jerome had hired for the night and Susan had ridden to the gallery in was at the curb. She opened the door for herself, surprising the chauffeur, who was reading a book.

  “Would you take me home, please?” she said. “You can come back and pick up Jerome and his daughter.”

  The chauffeur put his book down and prepared to drive. Before he’d fired the ignition, the car door opened and André jumped inside. He pressed the button for the privacy window and pulled Susan into his arms. She resisted.

  The car had already begun to move.

  “What are you doing?” She pushed him away and moved as close to the opposite side of the car as she could get.

  “I saw you leaving.”

  “And you decided to follow me? Why?” she asked, with anger evident in her voice.

  Susan was angry with herself. Her body had been as tight as a spring, and when André had pulled her to him, she’d nearly uncoiled. He smelled of the champagne she’d spilled on him. Where the strength came from to push him aside, she didn’t know. Yet she had to keep her brain in gear and not let her heart defeat her.

  “I know you don’t understand what happened in my apartment.”

  “Yes, I do,” she said.

  André didn’t say anything in answer. He opened the privacy window and instructed the driver to take them to his address.

  “No,” she protested, as her hands wildly reached for the control, but André had already closed the window.

  “Susan, please.” He waited for her to stop fighting for the control and then said, “We need to talk.”

  “I heard that before.”

  “Okay, you’re right. But I really need to talk to you.”

  * * *

  “Would you like something to drink?” André asked when they’d reached his apartment.

  “No, thank you.” Susan wanted to keep control of her brain.

  André decided to bring two glasses of water to the living room. He removed his jacket, which reeked of the champagne she’d spilled on him.

  “Don’t you want to go and clean up?” she suggested.

  “If I did, it would give you the chance to leave. I will not hold you against your will, but I hope you will listen to what I have to say.”

  Susan took a seat on the edge of the sofa. She didn’t want to sit back, since the sofa was so comfortable, she could sink into it and not be able to get up quickly, should the need arise.

  André sat in a chair opposite her. Leaning forward, he steepled his fingers and then dropped them between his knees. “I hardly know where to start.”

  “The beginning is usually a good place.” Sarcasm dripped from her lips.

  André sighed, taking a long moment. Susan didn’t think he was going to say anything.

  “Her name was Gail.”

  Susan’s interest was instantly peaked. She tried not to let André know.

  “We met online—not on a dating site. She commented on a friend’s message and so did I. She liked my message and I did the same for hers. This happened time and again, and finally she friended me and I did the same. We never set up a time or place to meet in person. We never even mentioned it in our messages.”

  “Then, how did you meet?” Susan asked when he appeared to fall into his own thoughts.

  “It was at one of the many social functions I attend each year.”

  “Like the fashion show?” she asked. The show he’d taken her?

  He nodded. “It was an electronics show. The House of Thorn was one of the sponsors, and they held a dinner for the major contributors. We met there.”

  Susan waited. So far he hadn’t said anything startling.

  “We dated for a while. We became engaged.”

  “You fell in love with her?”

  He swallowed, as if relating the story hurt. “She started planning our wedding. Then she had to have the very best of everything. We began arguing over the cost of everything. One night I overheard her talking to a friend about our future together.”

  Susan tensed.

  “She told her how she wasn’t really in love with me, but I was her ticket to a better life, to a rich life. Those were her words.”

  “So you broke the engagement off.”

  He nodded.

  She could see it hurt him dearly.

  “I’m generally a good judge of character, but I totally misread her intentions.”

  “And you treat every new relationship the same way. Fourth date or less. Either way, you’re out.”

  “Susan,” he began. “I can’t deny that. I met you and all the rules seemed to change.”

  He got up and moved to the sofa, where she sat. He wasn’t next to her, but close enough that his presence seemed to reach out and touch her. Susan felt like shrinking back, but she refused to let him know he held any power over her.

  “Change in what way?” Her voice sounded like a squeak.

  “I want you in my life. I don’t know where this will go, but I want to find out.”

  “You think I should agree to something like that? We’ve passed the fourth-date test and obviously I failed, or you wouldn’t have thrown me out of this apartment.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Are you comparing me to Gail? Is that why—”

  “No,” he interrupted her.

  Susan stood up. “I won’t agree to this. I’ve had bad relationships in the past. Who hasn’t? But to agree with what you’re suggesting is not part of my makeup.”

  She started for the door, but André cut her off.

  “Stop,” he said. “I may have said that wrong.”

  Susan stared at him. Every part of her body shouted at her to take him under whatever terms, but she couldn’t. Her heart was already entangled. She wasn’t sure if it was broken, but it could be, with only the slightest nudge.

  “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  All the breath and fight went out of Susan. She had the same numb feeling she’d had that morning in his kitchen, wearing her purple gown.

  “You can’t be serious,” she said, speaking each word slowly and clearly.

  André just stared at her. He was serious.

  “What happens to me?” she asked. “When you decide you aren’t really falling in love and that you want to go back to being the commitment-phobe you were in the past? Do I just pick up my purple gown and take a taxi back to my former life?”

  “This is not going well,” André said, more to himself than to Susan.

  “It certainly isn’t,” she agreed.

  “I know we can’t begin again. Too much has passed between us, so let me ask you a question,” he said.

  Susan said nothing. Her internal defenses went up, however.

  “Do you have feelings for me?” André asked.

  She glanced away, with her eyes going toward the bedroom, where they’d had mind-blowing sex.

  “Beyond the sex.” He paused. “Do you want to be with me?”

  She didn’t know how to answer that question. Her heart said yes, but her brain told her heartache would be waiting at the end of the road they were embarking on.

  “I’ve just told you how I feel,” André continued. “I know enough to believe that you have an attraction to me, but do you have any other feelings?”

  Susan looked down, then back up. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t—and you’d know it.”

  Did he expel a held breath? If he did, it was gone in an instant.

  “I need to ask you a question,” André said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “The purple dress.”

  She frowned. “The Valentino?”

  He nodded. “Why did you rent it?”

  Did this really have to do
with a rented dress? “You told me about Gail. And I’ve heard enough rumors to know that she was a gold digger. And you think I am too.”

  He didn’t deny it and that hurt Susan.

  “I don’t need or want your money. Not every woman looks at you and sees dollar signs. I rented the dress because I had nothing appropriate to wear. I looked for a dress to buy and found nothing that caught my eye until I saw that in the window of a Rent the Dress boutique. I’m sure you know them. There are ads all over television, and at least three locations in Manhattan.”

  “Why didn’t you get a dress at the House of Thorn?”

  “I didn’t find one I wanted that fit.” She wanted to make his eyes pop when he saw her. The dresses in the store could be pricey designer gowns, but nothing jumped off the rack and told her this was the dress. When she’d passed that rental shop, she had impulsively gone inside and found the Valentino. “You need not worry about my clothing. I am capable of supporting myself.”

  “Prove it,” he challenged, taking a step closer to her. “Go out with me?”

  “That won’t prove anything,” she said.

  “It’ll prove to me if my feelings are genuine or not, and if yours exist.” He didn’t hesitate with his answer.

  “And if either one of us decides this isn’t going anywhere, that there is no future, we end it immediately.” She added a stipulation, not realizing she was already agreeing to his terms.

  “No strings, no hard feelings,” he said.

  Susan was almost sure she would be the one to make the decision. Despite André’s comments, she was still deceiving him.

  He stepped toward her. “Should we seal this with a kiss?”

  Susan’s phone rang. Her heart sank. The anticipation of him kissing her forced new feelings to the surface of her heart. She fished the phone out of her purse and looked at the display. Minette’s number appeared on the screen. She held the phone out for André to see the caller ID. After accepting the call, she lifted the phone to her ear.

  “I’m fine,” she said, without a greeting.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m at André’s.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Susan said again.

  “Are you staying the night?” Susan could hear the smile in Minette’s voice, which she’d lowered, as if she didn’t want the people around her to hear the question.

  Susan took a while to answer. Her eyes were on André, who could only hear one side of the conversation.

  “Yes,” she said and switched the phone off.

  “Yes to me, or yes to her?” he asked. But he didn’t give her time to answer. He kissed her quickly, and everything about the past few minutes was blotted out by the onslaught of emotional upheaval that invaded her like a body snatcher.

  * * *

  André knew where the kiss would lead. It was exactly where he wanted to go. The few days he hadn’t seen her had been hell. André was falling in love. He had no doubt about it. Susan made his life worth living. He couldn’t imagine being without her. He’d had a taste of life without her, and he didn’t like it.

  She slept next to him. André felt her warm, satiated body. They’d made love and he wanted her again. He wondered if it would always be like this. Lightly, he lifted a lock of her hair, played with it and dropped it onto the pillow, only to pull another lock and do the same.

  He was in a predicament. With Gail, it had never been like this. Even when their engagement had ended, André had never felt as if he’d lost a part of his being. When Susan had walked out of his apartment, he’d felt as if she’d taken a piece of his heart with her and that he would never be whole again. He was sure that was why he had gone to the art show tonight. He had known she would be there, and while he’d told himself she wasn’t whom he’d thought she was, he had gone anyway. He hadn’t followed his own advice. He’d gotten dressed, just to see her.

  And when he had, when he’d stood across the room from her, he’d known he was in love. How could he have just calmly walked away when he’d been shivering in reaction to her? Jerome had spoken to him, but he’d barely heard anything he’d said.

  Now he had to talk to her. He had to convince her that they needed to be together. But André couldn’t go all the way—at least not yet. He couldn’t put a ring on her finger until he was sure of himself and sure of her.

  She stirred and turned to face him. “You’re still awake,” she said in a drowsy voice.

  “Go back to sleep,” he said, drawing her close.

  He ran his hands down her arms. He loved the smooth feel of her. She tucked her head under his chin and settled against him. He smelled the lilac shampoo. For the first time in his life, André knew he could be happy. There were kinks in their relationship, but they could work those out. He was sure of that. And he’d do whatever it took to straighten out those kinks.

  * * *

  Waking up in André’s arms was a new experience for Susan. She took in the smell of him, like warm spice and sexy air. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled. His arms were around her, and their legs were entwined. It was as if sleep had joined them together, fitting them so it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

  The feeling that went through her was powerful. After getting out of bed, she pulled on André’s shirt and went to the kitchen to make coffee. If she said she was walking on air, it would be an understatement. She sang softly and the coffee maker brewed its single cup. Then she started one for André.

  Susan didn’t hear him come up behind her until she felt his arms wrapped around her. She leaned back, resting her head against his chest. He took her coffee cup and drank from it.

  “I made one for you,” she said.

  “I like yours better.”

  They liked their coffee the same way—they both drank it with cream. He set her cup down, turned her around and pulled her into his arms.

  “Aren’t you going to the store today?” she whispered against him as he planted kisses over her face and neck.

  “I’m thinking about it.” He nibbled on her lower lip. “But there is something that is keeping me here, telling me to go back to bed.”

  “Really? Do you know what that is?”

  His answer was to run his hands up her neck, briefly rest them on the rapidly beating pulse in her throat and then slide down to the soft flesh exposed by the open buttons of her shirt. With adept fingers, he undid the buttons on the shirt she wore. Susan’s head fell back to give him access to her throat and to continue the feelings he produced in her with the touch of his hands. With her own hands, she pushed his robe aside to feel the dampened skin of his hair-roughened chest. The sensation of pleasure going through her body caused her to arch forward.

  The naked desire shining in his eyes matched the emotion coursing through her body. He hesitated a moment, and she knew he was thinking of kissing her again. His eyes moved to her mouth, lingering there for long moments. She could feel his warm breath and smell the coffee as she moved closer to him. She felt, more than saw, him move. With his decision made, he gently cradled her face between his hands, then smiled slightly and, tilting her face, kissed her. Their touching ignited something. With an audible groan, he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.

  His mouth slid off hers, but he continued it along her jawline.

  “I don’t think I can work today,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m going to be too weak,” he said, with his voice already sounding gravelly.

  With that, he slipped his arm inside the shirt, and once they were skin to skin, they forgot the routines of the day and went back to the bedroom.

  Chapter 10

  The smell of coffee and freshly baked bread filled her apartment when Susan stepped through the door. Both Minette and Jerome sat at the kitchen counter, smiling.
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br />   “Twice in one week,” Jerome said.

  “Stop it,” Minette chastised him.

  Susan ignored the fact that she was still in last night’s clothes and poured herself a cup of coffee. “You baked?” she asked.

  “Not me,” Jerome said. “Minette brought these and we heated them.”

  Susan took one. They smelled heavenly, but then she hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday.

  “You two look happy,” Susan said. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve made a decision.” Jerome smiled.

  Sunlight lit the room. Susan pulled one of the counter stools back and perched between father and daughter. Her black lace dress spilled down the sides. Both Minette and Jerome turned to look at her, wearing identical smiles.

  “First, Minette is going to Italy with me.”

  “Wonderful!” Susan said. She would have clapped her hands, but she was holding a cup in one hand and a croissant in the other.

  “We’re going to close my apartment and studio,” Jerome continued. “And I’m moving back here.”

  “Here, in New York?” Susan asked. She was thrilled. After setting the cup down, she hugged Jerome, her mentor and friend.

  “We’re not sure where I’m going to settle yet. Her apartment is too small for the two of us, and she needs an office. I need a studio.”

  “I couldn’t be happier,” Susan said. “Minette and I have become fast friends. And I’ve missed our talks and all the photo advice you’ve given me.”

  “It seems you’ve come into your own. I looked at some of the ones in your second bedroom,” he said.

  The second bedroom was a combination office/studio and guest room. Susan had moved her framed photos to one end of the room. They were in plain view and she had known he’d ask about them if they weren’t available.