“I don’t know who he was. He bought me a drink. That was it.”
“And you drank it.” Richard’s lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Even though it might hurt our baby.”
“There is no baby! Richard, why are you so angry with me?”
“Anything else you want to reveal while we’re learning more about each other, sweetheart?”
I blinked against the sharp sting of tears, then I abruptly pushed back my chair, the wooden legs scraping against the floor. I grabbed my coat and fled into the still-falling snow.
I stood outside, tears streaming down my cheeks, wondering where I could go.
Then he appeared. “I’m sorry, honey.” I knew he truly meant it. “I had a horrible day. I should never have taken it out on you.”
He reached out his arms, and after a moment, I leaned into them.
He stroked my hair, and my sobs dissolved into a loud hiccup. He laughed quietly then. “My love.” All the venom had disappeared from his tone, replaced by a velvety tenderness.
“I’m sorry, too.” My voice was muffled because my head was pressed against his chest.
After that night, we never went back to Sfoglia.
I’m almost there now. I’ve crossed the park and have just three more blocks to travel. My chest feels tight. I’m gasping. I yearn to sit down, just for a minute, but I can’t miss my chance to see her.
I force myself to run faster, to avoid the subway grates that want to snag at my heels, to weave around the hunched-over man with the cane. Then I reach the restaurant.
I throw open the door and hurry down the narrow entranceway, past the hostess stand. “Hello,” the young woman holding menus calls after me, but I ignore her. I scan the bar area and the people sitting at tables. They aren’t here. But there’s another room, and it’s where Richard prefers to sit because it’s quieter.
“Can I help you?” The hostess has followed me.
I rush toward the back room, stumbling down a step and grabbing at the wall to steady myself. I look at each table, then check again.
“Was a dark-haired man here with a young blond woman?” I’m panting. “There might have been a second woman with them, too.”
The hostess blinks and takes a step back, away from me. “We’ve had a lot of people come through tonight. I don’t—”
“The reservations!” I almost shout. “Please check. . . . Richard Thompson! Or it might be under his sister’s name—Maureen Thompson!”
Someone else approaches. A heavyset man in a navy suit, his brow furrowed. I see the hostess exchange a look with him.
He takes me by the arm. “Why don’t we go outside? We don’t want to disturb the other diners.”
“Please! I have to know where they are!”
The man walks me toward the exit, his grip firm.
I feel myself start to shake. Richard, please don’t marry her. . . .
Have I said it aloud? The restaurant is suddenly silent. People are staring.
I’m too late. But how is that possible? There wouldn’t have been time for them to eat. I try to recall Maureen’s instructions to the cabdriver. Could she have said something else entirely? Or did my mind betray me by telling me what I wanted to hear?
The man in the suit deposits me on the street corner. I’m crying again, my sobs raw and uncontrollable. But this time, no arms are around me. No gentle hands stroking my hair away from my face.
I’m completely alone.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Nellie thought she’d been in love once before, back in college. In the evening he’d drive up around the corner from her sorority house and she’d run across the quad to meet him, the grass spongy under her feet, the air warm against her bare legs. He’d pull a soft cotton blanket out of the back of his old Alfa Romeo and shake it out onto the beach, then pass her a flask of bourbon. She’d put her mouth where his had been moments earlier as the amber liquid heated a trail down her throat and into her belly.
After the sun sank, they’d pull off their clothes and race into the ocean, then wrap up in the blanket. She loved the taste of salt on his skin.
He quoted poetry and pointed out constellations in the night sky. He was addictively inconsistent, phoning her three times in a day, then ignoring her for a weekend.
None of it had been real.
It didn’t bother her when he disappeared for a day or two at a time—until that night in October when she needed him. She’d called him over and over, leaving increasingly urgent messages. But he never answered.
Days later he showed up holding a cheap bouquet of carnations, and she let him comfort her. She hated him for failing her. She hated herself more for crying when he said he had to go.
She’d be smarter the next time, she’d vowed. She’d never again be with a man who’d look away when she started to fall.
But Richard did more than that.
Somehow, he caught her before she even realized she was about to stumble.
“Maureen’s terrific,” Nellie told Richard as they strolled hand in hand toward his apartment.
“I can tell she liked you a lot.” Richard squeezed her hand.
They chattered a while longer, then Richard pointed at the gelato shop across the street. “I know you secretly wanted dessert.”
“My heart says yes but my diet says no,” Nellie moaned.
“It was your last day of work, right? You deserve to celebrate. How was graduation?”
“Linda asked me to give a little talk. I got choked up at the end of it, and Jonah thought I was having trouble reading my notes. So he shouted, ‘Just sound it out! You can do it!’ ”
Richard laughed and leaned in to kiss her just as her cell phone erupted with “When the sun shines, we’ll shine together.” Rihanna’s “Umbrella”—the ringtone she’d assigned to Sam.
“Aren’t you going to answer?” Richard didn’t seem irritated the moment had been interrupted, so Nellie did.
“Hey, are you coming back here tonight?” Sam asked.
“I wasn’t planning on it. What’s up?”
“Some woman came to check out the apartment. She said she heard I was looking for a new roommate. After she left, I couldn’t find my keys.”
“You left them inside a grocery bag a few weeks ago and almost threw them away.”
“But I’ve looked everywhere. She was outside the apartment when I came home, and I swear I put them right back in my purse.”
Not until Richard whispered, “Everything okay?” did Nellie realize she’d stopped walking.
“What did she look like?” she blurted.
“Totally normal. Thin, dark hair, a little older than us, but she said she was newly single and was starting over. It was so dumb, but I had to pee desperately and she kept asking all these questions, like she really wanted it. She was only alone in the kitchen for two seconds.”
Nellie cut her off. “Are you by yourself now?”
“Yeah, but I’m going to have Cooper come over and stay the night just in case. I’ll have him drag something over to block the door. Shit, it’s going to cost a fortune to get a locksmith here. . . .”
“What is it?” Richard whispered.
“Hang on,” Nellie told Sam.
Richard pulled out his cell phone before Nellie had even finished recounting the story. “Diane?” Nellie recognized the name of his long-time secretary, a competent woman in her sixties whom she’d met on several occasions. “I’m sorry to bother you at this hour. . . . I know, I know, you always tell me that. . . . Yeah, a personal one—can you get an emergency locksmith over to re-key an apartment as soon as possible tonight? . . . No, not mine. . . . Sure, let me give you the address. . . . Whatever it costs. Thank you. Come in late tomorrow if you’d like.”
He hung up and tucked the phone back into his pocket.
“Sam?” Nellie said into her receiver.
“I heard him. Wow . . . that was really nice. Please tell him thanks.”
“I will. Call me when the locksmith comes.” Nellie hung up.
“There are a lot of crazy people in New York,” Richard said.
“I know,” Nellie whispered.