A Miracle at Macy's

by Lynn Marie Hulsman

  “Please.” He flashed me a smile, this time with lots of teeth. They were, of course, very white. I relaxed onto the leather seat. Why did I say I had a cold? No one wants to have sex with someone who has a cold. “OK, just a little while longer.”

  I imagined his chest underneath the tight-fitting black western shirt with the surprisingly masculine turquoise embroidery. It snapped up the front instead of buttoning. It would be so easy to undo. I reached for my drink.

  “Great. I was having such a nice time. I didn’t want it to end”, he said. Sabina passed by, walking closer to our table than I felt was strictly necessary. Jordan’s eyes were on her as he said, “So tell me, what makes Shayla de Winter tick?”

  “Excuse me?”

  His focus landed back on me. I could see him back-pedaling, trying to figure out why I was snapping at him. “Uh…”

  “Did you just call me Shayla de Winter?”

  For a brief moment, he appeared rattled. I watched him pull himself together, face relaxing, opening his legs a little wider to take up more space on the bench. “Yeah, I did,” he owned it. “I mean, you are after all.”

  “Why did you ask me out?”

  Without missing a beat, he said, “Because you looked so cute sitting there in front of the name badges. I had my eye on you all night. Didn’t you feel it?”

  I wavered. If he thought I was cute, maybe I’d get to feel his smooth skin under the palms of my hands. On the other hand, if he was using me to get to my father, I had an appointment with the shower head. Hat still on my head, I challenged him.

  “I’ll give you two more minutes. What question do you want to ask me more than anything?”

  His face contorted in frustration. He was struggling to come up with the right answer. I stood up. “Wait!” he said. “Hang on.”

  “Clock’s ticking,” I said, faking confidence.

  “All right, all right! I guess… can you get me a meeting with your father?”

  Son of a bitch! I grabbed my coat. It bumped across the table, upsetting my full drink. Now the hem was doused in whiskey, and it dripped down the back of my tights as I pushed my arms into it, heading for the door.

  “Shayla, wait!” he called.

  The question couldn’t have been, ‘What do you love about your book?’ or ‘If you could live anywhere other than New York, where would it be?’ or even, ‘Do you drink coffee or tea in the morning?’ could it?

  “Shayla!”

  I blew past Sabina and she deftly protected her tray of full drinks. “Loser,” I thought I heard her whisper, but it was hard to hear with my hat on.

  I took the stairs two at a time, pushed open the heavy, upholstered door, and hurled myself out onto the slippery New York street. Veering in toward the wall of the building to avoid a crowd of St. Patrick’s Day revelers, walking three abreast, and caterwauling Irish drinking songs. I bumped into a pale young man decked out in green from head to toe, wearing a leprechaun hat. “Sorry,” I said.

  He whipped around and looked me bleary-eyed in the face. “No, lady. I’m sorry,” he slurred.

  “Why?” I asked. I looked down. He was peeing on my boot.

  Also by Lynn Marie Hulsman …

  Christmas at Thornton Hall

  Summer at Castle Stone

  Lynn Marie Hulsman

  Author Lynn Marie Hulsman’s varied employment background includes stints writing at a direct marketing agency specializing in casino advertising (Loosest slots in town!), ushering at Manhattan Theatre Club, where she saw John Slattery naked (onstage) over 50 times, editing for big pharma companies (Ask her anything about the prostate: she knows.), creatively ideating for major global brands (I’m in it for the catered lunches) and passing out cheese cube samples (a decided low point). As a performer she’s done comedy at places like Caroline’s, Stand Up New York, The Big Stinkin’ Comedy Festival in Austin, TX, and Boom Chicago in Amsterdam. She can’t tell you what she’s ghost written (obv!) but she’s co-written two books on cookery, and authored The Bourbon Dessert Cookbook. She does not believe in white chocolate.

  Lynn Marie lives and writes twenty-six floors above 42nd Street in New York City with her husband, children, and two elderly terriers.

  www.lynnmariehulsman.com

  @LynnMarieSays

  About HarperImpulse

  HarperImpulse is an exciting new range of romance fiction brought to you from the women’s fiction team at HarperCollins. Our aim is to break new talent from debut authors and import the hottest trends from the US, bringing you the very best in romance. Whether that is through short reads for your mobile phone or epic sagas that span the generations we want to proudly publish romance fiction that gets everybody talking.

  Romance readers, come and meet the team at our website www.harperimpu‌lseromance.com, our Facebook page www.facebook.com/HarperImpulse or follow us @HarperImpulse!

  Writers, we are simply looking for good stories! So, what are you waiting for? To submit, e-mail us at romance@harpercollins.co.uk.

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