That New York Minute

by Abby Gaines

  “Have fun,” she said. “Don’t stick your fingers through any bars.” She paused. “On second thought, do. A little mauling might distract you from your pitch.”

  Garrett was smiling as he ended the call.

  Stephanie showed him her map of the zoo. “I thought we’d start with the snow leopard, if you don’t have a preference.”

  “I seriously don’t have a preference,” he said. “Dad would start with the aardvarks, of course.”

  “Everything in order,” she agreed. But her smile was sad, and Garrett wished he hadn’t mentioned his dad. Then she punched his arm lightly. “I saw on the website that the snow leopard’s pregnant. You can tell me which of us you think is bigger.”

  She had a definite waddle these days, Garrett noticed. The snow leopard was a crowd-puller, its enclosure a magnet for school trips, as well as mothers of preschoolers, pushing buggies, often in groups.

  “Did you ever come here with Lucas?” Garrett asked as he watched the animal stretch in the sun.

  “A couple of times. Once on a class trip, once just him and me.” She slid him a glance. “I did invite you.”

  “I’m sure you did.” He didn’t remember, but he knew he would have refused the invitation.

  “I’m glad we’re here now,” she said. “I wonder what Lucas is doing right this minute.”

  Garrett glanced at his watch. “Playing the third round of an after-dinner poker game would be my guess.”

  She sighed. “You’re so literal, just like your father.”

  When he halted, she tsked. “That’s a compliment when I say it.”

  “And yet you left him,” Garrett reminded her.

  She sighed, and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

  “Are you serious about Rachel?” she asked.

  “We’re not even dating,” he said.

  “She seems to understand you, and I can tell you think she’s hot.”

  “Did you and Lucas used to have conversations like this?” Garrett asked. “No wonder he took off for the Gulf.”

  “Sometimes we did,” she said. “Not that I knew what to say to him, any more than I do to you.”

  “Silence can be the best policy,” he said.

  “Not that.” She squeezed his hand. “I did too much of that.” She let go of his hand and pointed. “This way to the gorillas. They really do peel bananas, you know.”

  “Amazing,” he said. But he was grinning. He remembered coming to the zoo with his mom, but it had been a very long time ago.

  Maybe one day he’d bring his little brother or sister here.

  “I think,” he said, after Stephanie handed a complete stranger her camera and asked the guy to take a photo of her and Garrett in front of the gorilla, “you’ll make a pretty good mom.”

  Her eyes filled with tears as she flung her arms around him.

  “I didn’t mean for me,” he said, horrified.

  She smacked his shoulder as she chortled wetly. “I know you didn’t. Thanks, Garrett, it means a lot to hear you say that.”

  Garrett cleared his throat.

  “Now we just need your dad to fulfill his potential to be a great father,” Stephanie said.

  Nothing like a mention of the old man to strip the fun out of a conversation.

  “Isn’t there a rhino somewhere around here?” he asked.

  * * *

  ON HIS WAY BACK to the office three hours later, Garrett’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number…but he did recognize the voice, even through static and a killer echo.

  “Lucas, is that you? What’s going on?” His brother didn’t phone him on a regular basis. Not on any basis, actually. They emailed every so often and were always delighted to see each other, but they didn’t call.

  “That’s what I was about to ask you,” his brother retorted. “I just spoke to Dad last night, and for the fourth call running he told me Stephanie was out.” Lucas paused, and the echo came through. “She doesn’t go out that much. Especially not at night without Dad. Is it—is there a problem with the baby?”

  “No!” Garrett was relieved to be able to reassure him. It must drive Lucas nuts, being so far from the people he cared about. “I just left Stephanie a few minutes ago—she and the baby are fine.” Dammit, he could understand his father not wanting to worry Lucas about the split—though it was unlike Dwight to shrink from the truth—but now Garrett would have to do the honors. More entanglements.

  “What do you mean you just left her?” Lucas’s voice faded out then came back in again. “Isn’t it Tuesday afternoon there? About three o’clock?”

  “We were at the zoo,” Garrett said. Utter silence down the line. “Lucas? You still there?”

  “This line is totally screwed,” Lucas said. “It sounded like you said the zoo.”

  Garrett sighed. “Okay, little brother, this is a long story. Brace yourself.”

  By the time he finished telling Lucas the facts, then reassuring his brother—somewhat less factually—that he was doing everything in his power to help their dad and Stephanie work things out, he was back at the KBC building.

  Instead of heading inside, he strolled up Madison Avenue and kept talking.

  “I can’t believe Dad didn’t tell me this.” Lucas sounded hurt. “Didn’t he trust me to handle it?”

  “Of course he did,” Garrett said. “He’s so proud of you, he talks about you all the time. Often to ask why I can’t go into the navy like you did.”

  “He’s proud of you, too.” Lucas didn’t quite manage to make it ring true.

  Given the rarity of their conversations, Garrett decided not to ruin this one by calling his brother an ass. He merely pointed out, “I’m not the one who went into the navy, then got a bunch of promotions and medals and whatever. You couldn’t have made Dad happier.”

  “I didn’t do it for Dad,” Lucas said.

  “Right, you did it for you. Which is great.” This conversation was bringing back memories of the late-night talks he used to have with Lucas. They’d shared a room for a while after Mom died…until Dwight had declared that enough was enough and they were men now, who could handle sleeping in their own rooms. Ironically, of course, on an aircraft carrier all but the most senior officers shared compartments with fellow sailors.

  “I did it for Mom,” Lucas said. “Or at least, because she would want me to.”

  “Mom’s not the one who was always nagging us to go into the forces,” Garrett said, confused.

  “I wanted to join the navy,” Lucas said. “But as for the promotions and medals…you know how Mom always said, ‘Whatever makes you happy, pursue it with everything you’ve got.’”

  Garrett took a couple of seconds. “Yeah, I know.”

  “I always figured that’s been behind your meteoric rise up the ad agency ranks,” Lucas said.

  Which was exactly what Rachel had said.

  “No,” Garrett said. “It hasn’t.”

  “Oh.” Lucas sounded nonplussed. “Guess I was wrong.”

  They wrapped up the call soon after. Leaving Garrett time to make a couple of calls of his own.

  He’d had an idea of something he could do for Rachel. Something that didn’t involve committing his emotions or baring his heart.

  The first call was to the CEO at JWT. Garrett was unsurprised that he still had the clout to get straight through. He’d won a lot of business for that firm. Not to mention three CLIOs.

  “Garrett, good to hear from you.” Hardy Campese boomed down the line. “Tell me you’re calling because you want your job back. You’ll kill me on the salary, I know, but you’re almost worth it.”

  “I’m definitely worth it,” Garrett said. “But that’s not what I’m after.” He proceeded to tell Campese exactly what he did want.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “WANNA GRAB A SANDWICH?” Garrett was leaning on the doorjamb of Rachel’s office, looking tall, dark and very sexy.

  Rachel glanced over her shoulder to the wall beh
ind her.

  “Yes, Rach, I’m talking to you.” He rolled his eyes and hid a smile.

  “Really? Because you haven’t done in several days.” Not since he’d called to tell her he was playing hooky at the zoo with Stephanie. She would have liked to have heard more about that excursion. But she suspected he’d been avoiding her. Not out of hostility—at least, she didn’t think so, despite those unwelcome insights she’d shared with him. Several times she’d caught him looking at her, and his perplexed expression had suggested he simply didn’t know what to do about her.

  “I’ve been busy. So have you. But there’s something I want to ask you. Are you coming or not?”

  Way to get a girl’s attention. She capped her pen. “I guess I could eat, if you’re buying.”

  “It’s only fair,” he said, “since I do earn a lot more than you.”

  She wanted to talk to Tony about their pay discrepancy, but now obviously wasn’t the best time. She glowered at Garrett. “This lunch better be expensive.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He was already striding ahead of her toward the elevators.

  They walked two blocks to an Italian basement restaurant Rachel had never seen before. Once they descended the narrow stairs, a vaulted ceiling, starched white tablecloths and sparkling crystalware told her Garrett had taken her request for a decent lunch seriously. She ordered prawns cooked in vermouth and served on fat pappardelle pasta. Garrett went for the T-bone with hand-cut fries.

  She decided to live a little and have a glass of wine with lunch. The Soave was the perfect balance of crispness and fruit.

  She lifted her glass to Garrett in a toast. “Here’s to the partnership.”

  He clinked. “You realize you’re toasting the fact that in a couple of days one of us will be out of a job.”

  “Or both of us.” She took a serious slug of her wine. “Clive seems quietly confident.”

  “Can you imagine Clive being noisily confident?”

  She laughed.

  “Have you thought any more about what you’ll do if you don’t get the partnership?” Garrett asked.

  She drew in a sharp breath. It was the one thing she couldn’t allow herself to think about. “I’m planning to win.” It didn’t sound quite as convincing since she’d told him the other night that he’d be almost impossible to beat. He must be in an unusually mellow mood, because he refrained from commenting. “Have you made contingency plans?” she asked.

  “No,” he admitted.

  “I wonder if Clive has,” they said simultaneously.

  “I don’t even have a résumé,” Rachel said. “I’ve only ever worked here, and to get the mail room job I just filled out an application form.”

  Garrett rubbed his chin. “Wow, Rachel. That’s weird. You need any help putting one together?”

  “No,” she said, annoyed.

  “That wasn’t a dig—I was genuinely offering to help,” he said.

  “I genuinely don’t plan on needing it,” she said. “But in the same spirit, I’ll offer to help you clear your desk the day you leave.”

  His teeth snapped together. Then he relaxed. “No need. When I leave, I don’t take anything with me. Not even a paper clip.”

  A reminder, as if she needed it, that he wouldn’t be taking any thoughts of her with him. He’d obviously managed to shut her out of his mind quite successfully the past few days. Unfortunately she hadn’t been as successful.

  Garrett snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Hey, even if no other ad agency in the world wants to hire you, at least you still have your legs.”

  “Thanks,” she said drily. “And you still have a new sibling to look forward to. Are you excited?”

  “Guys don’t think about that stuff,” he said.

  “Oh, really?” She sat back while the pretty young waitress set down her prawn dish. It smelled heavenly. “In your dresser drawer, I saw a carrier bag from Maybe Baby.”

  “That’s where I keep my gym gear,” he said.

  “I looked inside.”

  He sighed. “Because you thought I might be keeping cologne in there?” He didn’t sound annoyed.

  “Because I wanted to see what you bought, dummy.”

  Underneath the table, his foot brushed her ankle, and she jumped. But not so far as to break the contact.

  “An adorable little baby sleep-sack,” she said with relish.

  “I know what I bought, Rachel.” He picked up a French fry and popped it in his mouth.

  “All I’m saying is, don’t tell me you don’t think about that baby.”

  “I’m not saying anything to you,” he said.

  Too late. He’d already betrayed his soft spot for his future sibling, and she found herself liking it. A lot.

  “Did you hear Bob Harvey in accounting is running a betting book on which of us will end up partner?” Garrett asked.

  “That’s disturbing,” she said. “A senior accountant who runs a gambling ring.”

  “I’m fairly certain it’s a onetime thing.” He sat back, arms clasped behind his head, waiting for her to ask the obvious question.

  Who’s the favorite?

  She wasn’t about to ask. Instead, she let herself appreciate the breadth of his shoulders, the masculine planes of his face.

  She saw when he read the direction of her thoughts. Saw how his gaze sharpened as he returned the scrutiny. She was wearing a light pink dress that worked nicely with her caramel-colored hair. He’d once said pink was “her color.”

  They eyed each other for a little while, food forgotten. Rachel saw the moment Garrett’s thoughts turned more explicit than hers. His eyes heated, grew less focused.

  “Hey!” She put a protective hand to where the wrap front of her dress showed a hint of cleavage. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.”

  He grinned. “You don’t get to police my thoughts, Rachel. And it’s not sexual harassment for me to think lewd thoughts about you.”

  Heat shot to her core. “A major oversight in the legislation,” she said.

  He laughed out loud. “Which brings me to what I want to ask you.”

  “Fire away.”

  “First, I owe you an apology,” he said. “I acted like a jerk when you came to my place after we raided Clive’s office.”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  “I blame you for that,” he said.

  “Of course you do.”

  He held up a hand. “Hear me out. That kiss in Clive’s office… Rachel, that was something else.”

  “You mean it wasn’t you kissing me?” she asked, confused.

  “Something else as in something special,” he said.

  “Oh.” She heard the softening in her own voice. “That.”

  “You said you’d never felt like that before,” he reminded her. “Don’t try to back out now.”

  “Back out of what?”

  “Dating me.” He returned to his hand-cut fries, as if there was nothing left to say.

  “Are you serious?”

  The warmth in his gaze, combined with a mild dizziness induced by the wine left her light-headed. Which she could not afford to be when Garrett was talking like this.

  “I know we’re not the most logical pairing,” he said. “But if we go into this with the right expectations, we can both have a great time.”

  “Why did a dozen alarm bells just go off in my head?” she asked.

  “Because you’re like that.” He sipped her wine, having finished his water. “But if you think about it, you’ll see there’s some good middle ground for us to explore, somewhere between my natural ethos—Let it go—and yours.”

  “Mine being?”

  “The never-leave-me thing.”

  “So what, exactly, are you suggesting?”

  “That we see each other for a couple of months,” he said. “A fixed term, longer than I would normally date someone.”

  “But shorter than I might want,” she said.

  “Exactly.” He raised her
glass to her in a one-sided toast.

  “And this relationship would involve sex?”

  “Of course!” he said, shocked. Then he grinned. “You know you want it.”

  She did. Oh, she did. Just thinking about it turned her limbs heavy.

  Handing her glass back to her, he added, “But it’s more than sex, Rach. I like you a lot.”

  She’d never expected him to admit so much. And yet he was offering so little.

  “What about love?” she asked. “Do you see any prospect of that?”

  He was already shaking his head before she finished. “I’m not looking for the long haul here, Rach. You know as well as I do that we’re not suited.”

  She twirled her wineglass by the stem. “So your suggestion is for both of us to compromise everything.”

  “You’re using bad words,” he said. “How about, meeting in the middle. Exploring our common passions.”

  “You sound like an ad for a commune.” She didn’t manage to pull off the light tone she’d hoped for.

  He sighed. “I knew you’d be difficult, but for some reason I like that about you.”

  “Because I’m worth the effort,” she said. “And so are you.”

  He sat back while the waitress cleared their plates. “You lost me.”

  “I can’t say yes,” she said. “I don’t want to give any relationship anything less than my best shot, and to start with a time limit…to say everything is going to be a compromise…”

  “How else could we do it?” he demanded.

  “We’d have to both go into it wanting to play it our own way. On our own terms. And then we see who wins.” Could he see what a giant step it was for her to even attempt a relationship with a man like him?

  “That’s nuts,” he said. “Someone’s going to get hurt if we do that, and it’s going to be you.”

  “Maybe,” she said, “but I won’t settle for less.”

  He tossed his napkin on the table. “Then I guess we’re done.” He signaled for the check.

  “Thanks for lunch,” she said formally.

  As they walked up the stairs to street level, Rachel sensed Garrett’s gaze. She glanced over her shoulder to find him eyeing her butt.

  “Highlight of my day,” he said when he realized she’d caught him in the act. “I think your butt actually gives your legs a run for their money.” He patted her bottom. “Hope that’s not too demeaning for you, being seen as a sexual object. I figure you must be used to it.”