by Melissa Hill
“Wh—what are you doing here? Where's Daisy?” Terri looked about the hallway, trying to spot where the younger girl might be hiding.
Ethan smiled at her, his eyes twinkling a bit. Inside, his heart raced at the sight of her as it did each and every time he looked at her.
Pushing all of his nervous energy aside, he began. “She’s staying with Rachel this evening. Gary is out with his mother, so the two of them are having a slumber party in her suite.”
“I see.”
“The thing is, I have a couple of tickets to the Met gallery — the opening of a new exhibit. Would you like to join me?”
Her long pause prompted Ethan to pull out the big guns, “It’s a gala of sorts, I believe — featuring food of Chef Marco L’Adorna.” He purposefully butchered the last name to give it more authenticity.
Rachel had walked him through this in detail earlier. With Daisy’s inventiveness and Rachel’s resourcefulness, he hoped he might be able to woe Terri back.
For Terri, the chef’s name, although totally mispronounced, was almost irresistible. She and Rachel had followed the chef’s rise closely over the last couple of years. He was a revered genius of reinvented classic American and Italian fusion.
And Ethan was offering her an opportunity to sample his genius …
Terri had no idea how this had happened or where this was coming from but she figured she could get through one night of being with Ethan, for this.
At least, that’s what she promised herself.
“I'll have to change. Can you give me a half an hour or so?
“Yes, I was hoping you weren't planning on wearing the hotel’s robe,” he joked. “While it’s a great colour on you, I don’t think it would work for the Met. But whenever you’re ready, I’m just down the hall.”
Terri watched him stroll just twenty feet from her door, look back at her leaning up against her room’s door, and then smile as he walked into his own room.
As he disappeared from view, she ran back inside and called Rachel’s suite.
Her voice could not even hide the nervousness as she narrowed her eyes at her friend through the receiver. “You planned this, didn't you? Today at the airport and everything else… What on earth are you playing at?”
Rachel hung up her cell phone and turned to the bouncing girl on her giant hotel bed. “I think it’s going to work.”
Daisy bounced even higher, excited that her plans were falling into place.
Of course, it took a little intervention from Rachel, but she felt she was one step closer to pulling it off.
As Rachel sat down on the corner of the bed, she reached over and hugged her as thanks. As the two chatted about their plans, Gary peeked his head out of the bathroom door.
He watched as Rachel bonded so easily with the little girl, how she instantly knew that she would want to order pizza and watch a movie on the Children’s Channel, while he went out with his mother.
If it were him sitting where Rachel was, he would be utterly lost, completely unsure of how to talk, let alone act, around a child.
He coughed, getting his fiancee’s attention as he beckoned her to have a side talk with him in the suite’s dressing room. She asked Daisy to pick out the movie they should watch while she hurried off to speak with him.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come out to me and Mam tonight?” Gary thought he should ask again, just in case. It was very good of Rachel to arrange to fly his mother in a little earlier; she’d been a bit off with him about this whole New York wedding thing, and it was nice to have her back on side.
He couldn't remember the last time he and his mam had gone out for dinner together — if ever — and he wasn't sure where to take her. Nowhere too fancy anyway. Somewhere in Times Square maybe? He thought she’d enjoy the lights and the buzz.
In truth, it was a probably a good thing Rachel wasn't coming along as he knew his Mam felt a bit intimidated by her, especially when it came to food.
Hell, Gary was intimidated himself sometimes.
“No, no. I’m delighted to have you two spend some time together. And I’m just as happy staying here with Daisy.” She looked over at the girl scrolling through the TV channels. “Plus, it’ll be good practice,” she winked at him teasingly.
Gary gulped. “Jaysus, we’re not even married yet. Can we save the kids talk till after the honeymoon at least?” He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling the slick backed look he had created earlier.
Rachel’s face fell. “What do you mean? I didn’t think we had anything to talk about…we both want kids — don’t we?”
Gary sighed. “Right, yeah I suppose. Anyway, I’d better go, Mam is waiting.” He grabbed his coat that was draped over a chair.
Rachel was frowning, but she reigned herself back, not wanting Daisy to hear her private conversation. “What’s the rush Gary? Why are you running away like this in the middle of a conversation?”
“Jesus Christ why does everything have to be so … intense with you? Why can you just let things happen? Not everything needs to be organised in a binder, you know.” He knew he was taking it a bit too far, but Gary was annoyed.
“Fine for you to talk about being intense when you haven't had to lift a finger for anything to do with this wedding at all,” she shot back, stung. “I’m just trying to create the best possible day, the best future for us. I’m going to be your wife, and we are going to be a family. It’s what I want, what I’ve always wanted. Why can’t you understand that?”
She tried to keep her voice down, so Daisy wouldn't overhear them. Talk about timing.
“Well, maybe there’s more to it than what you want …” Gary instantly knew what he’d said was wrong. Rachel stared at him, wide eyed and wounded.
With nothing more to say to him, at least nothing more that she could put into words, she turned back towards the bedroom where she could hear Daisy’s movie choice begin to play.
Gary listened as she called out to her with forced joviality. “What did you pick, sweetheart?”
It was too late for him to go after her and have it out, though. It wasn't exactly the time or the place, and anyway, his mother was waiting.
With that, he put on his leather dress shoes and headed down to the lobby where Mary Knowles waited for him.
Hopefully his mam was well rested and in good form, and wouldn’t end up spending the entire night filling his ear with complaints about New York and the wedding being so far from home.
Women, Gary groaned, sometimes you just couldn't win with them.
20
Terri flexed her fingers, shook her hair out, and took two deep breaths before knocking on Ethan’s hotel room door.
She stood back, trying her best to look cool and relaxed, as if she was one hundred percent at ease with this situation.
But the truth was that her heart was racing, her stomach was filled with butterflies and bricks all the same time, and her fingers and toes wiggled nervously as she struggled to gain some composure.
This was exactly what not to do with your ex, especially when it was pretty obvious you still had feelings for him. She knew she was risking her heart, yet again, in playing along with this fantasy.
And if she were to get hurt or worse, hurt him, she would be to blame.
After a few moments, the door to Ethan’s room flew open. He was dressed in a black, slim fitting suit with a simple white button down shirt. His tie, a skinny grey pinstripe, was draped over his shoulders, as if it were meant to be worn that way, He leaned nonchalantly against the hotel’s wallpapered walls, his blue eyes smiling in greeting.
The sight of him made Terri’s knees buckle a bit.
He looked her up and down briefly, studying the way the purple dress hugged her curves and how she crossed her legs, even though she was standing fully upright. It was a little quirk about her that he had forgotten but certainly missed. Finding his own breath, Ethan admitted, “I know that this is stupid and terribly cliched, but I cannot tie
this tie. Will you help me?”
Terri nodded as she entered his the room, a mirror image of her own except with two beds. Daisy’s purple suitcase was laid out on one, while his black suit carrier was folded neatly on a lounge seat.
He walked back towards the sleeping quarters, and led her to a giant, gold ornate full length mirror on the wall.
Inhaling deeply, Terri took a couple of steps towards him and outstretched her arms across his broad shoulders from behind.
Her fingers just barely touched the spot where some dark facial hair was beginning to grow in. She was so close, she could spot little bits of stubble on areas of his face where he had forgotten to shave. His aftershave, just gentle enough to be noticed, filled her senses with memories and sensations.
Her eyes closed as she reminded herself where she was, who she was with, and what needed to be done. Ethan could see her struggling in the mirror with it all.
Even her hands shook a bit as she made a quick, Windsor knot.
When she finished, she stepped back, immediately admiring her handiwork. He smiled at her as he faced the mirror to check on the job. With a cheesy thumbs up and a lopsided grin, he pronounced it good to go.
The two left the hotel room silently and downstairs in the lobby, they ran into Gary and his mother.
Terri noticed that Gary looked a bit down in the dumps, almost crestfallen as he introduced Ethan quickly to Mary as an old friend of Rachel’s, saying nothing at all, she noted amused, about the collision outside Tiffany’s of two years before. Clearly the doting son still hadn't owned up to what had actually happened back then, and while Ethan was friendly and mannerly as always, it was interesting that he had been described as ‘Rachel’s friend’ only.
Perhaps the two hadn't quite buried the hatchet?
A little later, she stood frozen in place outside the impossibly grand Metropolitan Museum, as sophisticated New York men and women dressed to the nines passed her by, each chatting away as if it were nothing.
This was a crowd that someone effortlessly stylish and sociable like Rachel could easily blend into.
But Terri felt out of place, completely unprepared for such a decadent affair.
She turned uneasily to face Ethan as she whispered into his ear. “I’m not sure about this. I’m really not dressed for such a posh do. Everyone seems so… wealthy and sophisticated. I don’t belong here.”
As she spoke, a stunningly beautiful and very thin woman in a black gown with a long trail passed her. She clutched on to her escort’s arm as she practically glided over the carpeted entranceway.
Terri’s anxiety rose even higher.
Ethan laughed heartily and offered her his own arm, just the same as the passing couple, as he whispered back. “Don’t be silly, you belong everywhere. And there isn't a woman in this whole building that could hold a candle to you.”
Terri blushed as she took his arm, entwining it.
They walked side by side into the building and towards the gallery section roped off for the event.
The affair was being held in a room displaying modern American art from the 1920s and 1930s.
As cocktail hour began, Terri insisted on taking a turn about the room to study the displays. She and Ethan seemed to be the only ones interested in the exhibits though, everyone else was too busy mingling and networking to admire the beautiful work of some of the country’s most talented artists.
A man in a black tuxedo and white gloves came round with a tray of drinks, lowering it to offer the selection to Ethan and Terri.
She wanted to resist out of fear of drinking too much and losing her composure, but at the same time she was not going to let a good night out and some obviously expensive champagne go to waste.
She sipped hers gently, holding the dainty flute in her fingers. Ethan, on the other hand washed his back and returned the empty glass to another waiter as soon as he had finished.
“I never thought you were a great one for champagne.” Terri teased him, knowing it was not his favourite and he was more of a red wine man.
“I’m more of a great one for food, actually. I’m starving and that’s what we came here for, isn't it?” He took her hand, leading her off in the direction of another server holding a tray above his head.
They followed the man to the entrance of the catering area.
“Oh my goodness. Chef Marco…” Terri whispered excitedly, pointing to a man hunched over a tray of purple, white, and yellow food creations.
The chef shooed the servers out one by one and then turned his back to continue his work.
Terri stood in complete awe, unsure what to do or say. This guy was famous the world over, and his work had had a huge influence on her and Rachel when in college. She could quite believe that just then, he was standing only a few feet away from her.
Ethan, on the other hand, took a more proactive approach. As a waiter exited the kitchen area, he grabbed his tray, thanked the man and returned to Terri quickly before the guy had any time to protest.
As he placed the silver platter before her, he proudly said, “Compliments of the chef.”
“I cannot believe you just did that,” she laughed eyes widening. “You’re very bold.”
Terri picked up an item off of the tray, a vegetable medley of sorts, and smiled widely at her partner in crime.
“I wanted to taste this so-called magician’s work myself, and I wasn’t about to wait around and be served.” He took a bite and Terri followed, each chewing in silence for a moment.
After a single bite, Terri placed the half eaten canapé back on the tray and used a napkin to spit out the contents of her first taste.
Laughing, Ethan followed suit. “What in the world was that?” he gasped, slightly coughing back. He flagged down a drink server and downed another glass of champagne, allowing the taste to disappear in the alcohol’s acidity.
“I have no idea, but that was one of the most vile things I have ever tasted. I can’t believe it. Maybe it was a fluke, some accident or something?” She was still chuckling, tears of laughter springing from her eyes as she tried to salvage her makeup.
The couple moved away from the catering area, and found their seats at a table near the back of the gallery.
Ethan casually draped his arm around the back of her chair, his hand not daring to touch her flawless skin. Both sat back and relaxed a little as the curator of the new exhibit presented his short lecture to the completely disinterested audience. When he finished, everyone in the room politely clapped, while Ethan let out a jaunty English cheer just to shake things up. Terri nudged him in the side as the room of glaring eyes turned to face them.
He laughed, uncaring.
Dinner came shortly after. And with each bite, both Ethan and Terri continued their back and forth looks, knowing smiles, and random bursts of laughter.
As the rest of the table politely sipped their potato and lobster soup and tasted their trout, Terri pushed plate after plate away.
Chef L’Adorna, it seemed to Terri’s expert palate, was certainly not up the par.
And while she guessed she should be disappointed or at least a bit heartbroken after such hero-worship, she found herself not caring at all about the food.
Feeling emboldened by the champagne, she turned to face her companion. “Come on, let’s go.” She stood and this time offered him her hand.
Ethan looked up at her, surprised. His hand clasped hers as they hurried out of the room and then broke into a run through the gallery and back out onto the carpeted walkway.
Terri rounded the corner with him following behind, and waved her arm to hail a cab.
“Back to the hotel already?” he said, looking a little crestfallen. “It’s not yet midnight, Cinderella. Only ten, and actually, only five pm in real life,” he joked, eyes twinkling as he checked his watch.
“OK, then, where should we go before the clock strikes midnight?” Terri felt exhilarated. Suddenly the entire city was laid out before her and she wanted to
experience it. “You’re the expert.”
But from what little she knew of the place, she guessed that New York was the kind of town best shared, preferably with someone special — like Ethan.
Why not? she reassured herself. She was here for a reason and so was he and on Sunday morning they’d once again go their separate ways.
They enjoyed each others company but both of them knew well that they had no future together.
So what was the harm in having a little fun?
21
When the cab driver gruffly asked where to, Ethan answered with yet another one of those confusing street number combinations that all New Yorkers seemed to understand.
She couldn't fathom why they didn't just use street names like everywhere else.
The cab pulled up alongside a stone building soon after, and as Ethan opened the door for Terri and took her hand, hurrying her inside, she didn't even get a moment to see where she was.
Instead, he shuffled her up a moving elevator to a ticket booth. At this time of night, the place which Terri suspected was some kind of office building (why had Ethan brought her to an office building that had a ticket booth?) looked deserted, with only a few people who seemed like staff peppered here and there.
Oddly, they needed to go through a security check, and she raised an eyebrow at Ethan as he removed his watch and urged her to ready her clutch bag for the x-ray machine. Then finally, he ushered her into an elevator, whereupon an attendant, pushed a button to the 86th floor.
Then suddenly, as the sound of a recorded-voice filled the elevator, it finally dawned on Terri where he had taken her.
As the golden doors flew open, they moved outside onto an observation deck, high above the city, and her breath hitched. The calm beauty of the pitch black sky over a twinkling Manhattan that seemed to go on forever beneath them overwhelmed Terri, and she held on tighter to Ethan’s arm as they stood atop a now deserted Empire State Building.
“Wow. This is … this is something else.”
