Moonlight over Manhattan

by Sarah Morgan

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s not worth you leaving. So you could stay. Dog sitting. I have a comfortable guest room with its own bathroom. You can treat the place like home.”

  “Wait! Slow down.” Something that looked like panic flashed across her face. “We don’t offer dog sitting. Solo walks only.”

  “It’s snowing. They are forecasting more. What if you’re not able to get here one day? I will lose my job and my home. And where would Madi and I live then?”

  “Are you trying to guilt-trip me?”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  “You’re seriously suggesting I stay here?” She said it slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what he was asking her to do.

  He couldn’t quite believe it, either.

  “Yes, and believe me that’s not something I do lightly.” He made the joke but she didn’t laugh. She looked anxious and undecided.

  “I c-c-c—”

  Can’t.

  Dammit. He’d stressed her. Again.

  She shook her head in frustration. “No.”

  He noticed she’d chosen a different way to say the same thing. It was a common strategy among people who stammered. One word sticks, lead with a different word.

  “You’re not comfortable staying in a stranger’s apartment, particularly when the stranger is still there. I get that. But this is an emergency. You’re looking at a desperate man. I cannot be my best self at work if I’m up all night with a howling dog. And I’m not a stranger. This is our third meeting. Our relationship has already lasted longer than some marriages.” He was relieved to see her smile. “For the sake of my sanity, my sofa, and most of all for Madi, please move in. You can bring whatever you need to run your business here.”

  “Again, no.”

  “Harriet, I’m begging you.” On impulse he bent and scooped up Madi, trying not to drop her as she wriggled and tried to lick his face. “And, more importantly, Madi is begging you too.”

  “That’s manipulative.”

  “It’s the truth. Will you do it?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  SHE HAD TO be crazy, Harriet thought as she packed her things into a large suitcase the following morning.

  She could have stayed in the comfort and security of her apartment. It was what she wanted. Christmas was approaching. She wanted to make the place cozy and festive. Decorate. Put things in place to make sure she felt comfortable and able to enjoy herself. Pad her world with comfort to keep out the psychological chill of spending the holidays without her family.

  She didn’t want to stay in a stranger’s apartment.

  Which was exactly why she was doing this.

  Spending a few nights with Ethan Black would be the ultimate challenge, which was why the first thing she stuffed into her suitcase were three of her favorite books. She had a feeling she was going to need the comfort.

  Resisting the temptation to call him and tell him she’d changed her mind, she added sweaters, several pairs of pants and a couple of shirts.

  She removed a dress from the hanger and then paused.

  Why would she need a dress?

  She was going to be walking dogs. Doing what she always did. She wasn’t going to need a dress.

  She was putting it back on the hanger when her phone rang.

  It was Fliss.

  “Hi there.” Harriet tucked the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she thrust the dress back into her crowded closet space. “Everything okay?”

  “Never better. How about you? You have snow!”

  “We do.” Thinking of it made Harriet stuff two extra pairs of thick socks into her packing.

  “Are you having trouble getting around? Any cancellations?”

  “Not so far.” She picked up her favorite pair of boots and a spare scarf. “By the way, I’m moving my base of operations a few blocks south. I’m dog sitting for a while.” She said it casually, even though she knew there was no hope that Fliss would leave it at that.

  “You’re what? You mean overnight? You said you would never do that. I’ve been trying to talk you into it for months. Who requested it? It must have been one of our special clients for you to say yes.”

  “It was Debra.” She told herself that Debra was the ultimate beneficiary, so it wasn’t exactly a lie. “This is a one-off, special circumstance. Her daughter is in hospital.”

  “You told me. And Madi was staying with her brother, and you agreed to walk twice a day. It’s right here in our schedule. So where does staying the night fit into all that? What were the special circumstances?”

  “Madi is having problems settling.”

  “Problems?”

  Harriet wrapped her running shoes in a bag and tucked them into the side of the case. “She’s wrecking the apartment when she’s left.”

  “Well, dogs are social animals.”

  “I know, but knowing doesn’t help me solve the problem. Worse, she’s barking and howling. This guy has neighbors, and he wants to carry on living there after Madi has gone.” Harriet switched the phone to her other shoulder and started pushing underwear into the corners of her case. “She’s not settling at night, either. She’s howling.”

  “So you’re moving in. With a stranger.”

  “Not a stranger. He’s Debra’s brother, which is as good as having a reference. And he’s a doctor.”

  “I didn’t know there were different categories of stranger.”

  “It’s not as if I haven’t met him. We’ve talked a couple of times.” Harriet decided not to mention the dinner they’d shared.

  “Just because he’s a doctor, doesn’t mean he’s a saint. Think of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

  “Fictional characters don’t count.”

  “Some people say Jack the Ripper was a surgeon.”

  “You are so comforting.” Harriet packed her pajamas. “I don’t think Debra’s brother is a serial killer.”

  “Serial killers have relatives, you know.”

  “He is not a serial killer. I’ve met him several times. Remember that trip to the hospital I took when I sprained my ankle?”

  “Are you telling me this guy is Dr. Hot?”

  “Your name, not mine.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so right away? Now I approve. Harriet Knight, congratulations. I never thought I’d see you moving in with a man you barely know. You are officially on your way to being a bad girl.”

  Harriet rolled her eyes. Her inner GPS never took her anywhere near that particular destination. “He’s not even going to be there. He spends most of his life at work. That’s the reason we have a problem. Madi is struggling being on her own all day so I’m going to base myself there so that I can give her a little more attention and see if I can settle her down.”

  “So you are moving into a stranger’s apartment to care for a dog.”

  “That’s right.”

  “That’s all it is?”

  “Of course. What else?”

  “I’ve always said you’d make the perfect doctor’s wife.”

  “That’s insane.” Harriet stood up. “You talk as if doctors are one homogeneous being instead of individual people. And this guy doesn’t seem like the relationship type.”

  “What have you packed to sleep in? Do not wear that old T-shirt with I love dogs on it.”

  “It’s my favorite T-shirt and I do love dogs. It’s honest nightwear.”

  “It’s not something you need to emblazon on your breasts when you’re spending the night with a sexy guy.”

  “I never said he was sexy.”

  “Is he?”

  Harriet thought about the way he’d waited patiently while she’d struggled to get her words out. He hadn’t once tried to finish her sentence. True, he’d yelled but only that once and even she had to admit his frustration had been justified. And he’d apologized. She didn’t know many people who were big enough to apologize.

  He’d let Madi sleep on his bed when she was distressed.

 
And the way he’d picked her up—

  She sighed. “He’s sexy.”

  “Whoa. Never heard you say that about a guy before. What do you like about him most? Shoulders? Abs? Great eyes?”

  “He’s a good listener.”

  “I’m talking about what makes him sexy.”

  “So am I. That’s what makes him sexy to me. I like the fact that he didn’t interrupt me. He didn’t try to—” She stopped just in time. She wasn’t ready to tell Fliss that her stammer had come back. She wanted to deal with it by herself. “He didn’t try to dominate the conversation in the way some guys do.”

  “So what you’re saying is that he’s totally unfortunate looking, but a nice person?”

  Harriet laughed. “That’s not what I’m saying. But looks don’t matter, do they? My first internet dating experience kept checking his reflection on his phone.”

  “Gross.”

  “Exactly. And what Ethan looks like is irrelevant because this isn’t a date, it’s work. I’m doing this for Madi and for Debra. And for him, because he cannot make life-and-death decisions after three hours’ sleep.”

  “I have been trying to talk you into dog sitting for ages. This is great.”

  “This is a one-off. Don’t get any ideas.” Harriet could almost see Fliss making notes and plans. Next she’d be sending an email with suggestions for expanding their business into dog sitting and she really didn’t want that.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

  Harriet tried to close her bulging case. “I can’t believe it, either. But I’m doing it for Madi.”

  For the dog. For Debra.

  Not for any other reason.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “LIFE WOULD BE so much easier if I was better with people.” Harriet slowed her pace so that Glenys could keep up. The drop in temperature didn’t seem to have kept people inside. The streets were busier than ever and there was a buzz of expectation in the air that increased as they drew closer to Christmas.

  Across Manhattan, the stores unveiled their holiday displays and people traveled especially to admire the store windows.

  Harriet liked to wait until after dark and then wander along Madison Avenue, Lexington and Fifth Avenue.

  When they were growing up, her mother had taken her and Fliss to see the store windows and Harriet remembered the special buzz that had come from being just the three of them. Without her father there, she hadn’t been so afraid to speak.

  Glenys patted her arm. “What are you talking about? You’re wonderful with people.”

  “Not really, although I’m better one-on-one than I am in a crowd. But I want to be the sort of person who can bound into a room and be the life and soul of a party. It must be great to feel that comfortable and confident.” She watched as Harvey picked his way over the snow. “I’m a coward.”

  Glenys stopped walking. “Oh no, honey. You’re nothing of the sort. You are brave.”

  Harriet thought about the number of times she’d almost called Ethan Black and canceled. “I’m really not.”

  “Think about it—” Glenys waggled her gloved finger. “Is it hard for Fliss to bounce into a room and talk to everyone?”

  “No. She does it naturally.” And it was a skill she’d always envied. There were so many days when she wished she were more like her sister.

  “So what’s brave about that? She does it without a second thought. Brave is walking into that room when it’s the last thing you want to do. Brave is putting yourself out there when you’d rather hide away in the safety of your apartment. Brave is what you’re doing. Moving in with a guy you hardly know to protect that innocent little dog.”

  “You’re freaking me out, Glenys. You’re making it sound like the biggest risk.”

  “It’s going to be fine,” Glenys said, her voice devoid of conviction. “You’re brave as a lion, honey.”

  Harriet didn’t feel particularly lionlike as she hauled her suitcase across town to Ethan’s apartment in the West Village.

  Unlike the rest of Manhattan, where the streets were laid out in an ordered, logical grid, here they meandered and curved. It was easy to get lost, particularly as Harriet didn’t know this area as well as the rest of Manhattan. She walked past an organic bakery, a craft store and an artsy boutique all decked out for the holidays with garlands of holly leaves and twinkling lights. Now, with the cobbled streets hidden under layers of snow, it felt as if she’d stepped straight into the pages of a Dickens novel.

  She reached Ethan’s apartment block and took the elevator to the top floor.

  He’d already left for work and there was no sign of Madi.

  Concerned, Harriet dumped her suitcase in the living room and sprinted upstairs.

  Madi was sprawled in the middle of his bed, her eyes closed.

  Harriet shook her head in disapproval. “You are a bad girl.”

  Madi opened her eyes, then sprang off the bed and gave Harriet an ecstatic welcome.

  “You are not allowed to sleep on his bed. Are you listening to me?”

  Madi wagged her tail.

  “You have to behave. I’m not taking any nonsense from you.”

  It was the first time she’d had the chance to take a proper look at his apartment. The first time she’d come here it had been dark, and yesterday she’d been too busy focusing on the fact he wanted her to dog sit to pay any attention to her surroundings.

  But now she looked.

  The sun-filled living room had high ceilings and exposed brick walls. There was a large wood-burning fireplace, and three oversize windows faced west and offered a view of the Hudson River.

  Harriet walked across to the window. From her own apartment she saw other buildings. Brick walls, trimmed with iron fire escapes. If she stood on a chair and craned her neck she could just about see the tops of a few trees in Central Park. Her view was nothing like this.

  She gazed for a moment and then turned back to the room.

  A large leather sofa faced a fireplace that was flanked with bookcases. They ran the whole length of the wall and reached up to the ceiling.

  For Harriet, a bookcase was too much of a draw to simply walk past without giving it attention.

  Curious, she stepped forward to read some of the spines.

  Dickens and Dostoyevsky nestled alongside modern authors such as Stephen King. There were medical textbooks, books on music and art history. If she’d had to compile a character study of the owner of the apartment based on the contents of his bookshelves, she would have struggled.

  What it told her was that Ethan Black read what he wanted to read. The books on the shelves hadn’t been chosen to impress, but were a haphazard catalog of the owner’s varied tastes and interests.

  Two large armchairs sat invitingly on either side of the fireplace and on the coffee table in between them there were more books and a few medical journals. A photographic book on Prague, a biography of a leading politician and a book on motivation written by a gold-medal-winning skier called Tyler O’Neil.

  On the shelf in front of the bookcase were several photographs. She stepped forward and took a closer look. She recognized Debra in one, with a younger girl who was presumably Ethan’s niece. Next to that was a photograph of four men standing on a snowy slope in ski gear. She recognized Ethan Black. Who were the other three men? His brothers? There was another photo with about twelve people grouped together, laughing.

  Whoever they were, Ethan seemed to have a big family and lots of friends.

  She felt a stab of envy. No doubt his Christmas would be full of laughter and eggnog. Not that she particularly liked eggnog, but she would have liked to have a busy, noisy Christmas.

  Harriet resisted the temptation to sink into the comfortable armchair and lose herself in one of those books. Books had always been a comfort to her. More than comfort. There were times when reading came close to an addiction.

  When things had been tough at home, Harriet’s solution had been to remove herself
from life and disappear. She’d chosen to be invisible. Sometimes physically, by hiding under the table, but sometimes psychologically by diving into a literary world unlike her own.

  As a child she’d liked to sink into the pages and lose herself for hours at a time. When she was reading, she didn’t just leave her own life behind, she stepped into someone else’s. There were times when she’d read for hours without noticing the passage of time or the onset of darkness. When it grew too dark to read, she simply switched on her flashlight and read under the covers so that she didn’t disturb her sister, who was sleeping in the next bed. At school, she carried her book around. When things were difficult, the weight of her bag would comfort her. It helped just to know the book was there, waiting for her. At various points in the day she’d feel the edges bump against her thigh, reminding her of its existence. It was like having a friend close by, telling her I’m still here and we can spend time together later.

  Even now, more than a decade on from that difficult time of her life, she found herself instinctively reaching for a book when she was stressed. Comfort was different things to different people. To some it was a bar of chocolate or a glass of wine, a run in the park or coffee with a friend.

  To Harriet, it was a book. Now, when she was feeling uncomfortable and unsettled in a stranger’s home, was one of those times.

  There, on the shelf in front of her, was an elaborate edition of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol. It was one of her favorite stories, particularly at this time of year. She loved reading about Scrooge’s transformation. It gave her hope.

  She reached to pull it from the shelf and then paused.

  If she started reading, she’d find it difficult to stop and she had work to do. Later, she could read.

  Regretfully, she stepped back from the bookshelves, gazing at them the way another woman might salivate over chocolate.

  Fliss had never been able to understand how the mere thought of reading could lift her spirits and make her feel excited.

  Tearing her gaze away from temptation, she picked up her case and carried it upstairs.