All the Way (Romancing Manhattan #1)(31)

“And I was going to suggest a raise,” I reply with a laugh. “You do so much for me here, I’d be happy to pay you more.”

“No, this is fair, and I’m happy. If that changes, I’ll be sure to let you know. Give me a week or so notice the next time you’ll be here, and I’ll make sure the house is stocked and ready to go.”

“You’re wonderful, Tony. Thank you.”

Once he’s left, I look at the time, and figure I have about two hours until the car will be here to get me, so I grab a couple of large garbage bags and head out to the playhouse.

I was hoping that I’d open the door, and everything would be back in its place again, but no such luck. The toy kitchen is tipped over, all of the plastic plates and foods are all over the floor. The little dining table is on its side, and the small twin mattress is off the bed and on the floor.

This seems like a lot of damage from wind, but it was a crazy storm.

I spend an hour righting everything, throwing away things that were damaged from the water, and make sure that it doesn’t need any repairs.

Thankfully, it’s just the stuff inside that got broken or messed up.

Once that’s finished, I wander down to the beach, but rather than looking out to sea, I turn and look at the huge house that’s been left to me.

I love it, but part of me wonders if I should sell it. I know it’s worth a fortune, not that I need the money. It’s just so big, and I’m just me. I don’t have kids to bring here, and I don’t have a large extended family who could use it.

Maybe I should sell it to a family, and let the house be loved the way it should be.

I glance over at Finn’s house and smile. It’s not much smaller than mine. If I sold this house, I wouldn’t have Finn as a neighbor anymore, and that would be disappointing.

I shrug and turn to walk down the beach. I don’t have to make any decisions about it today. Maybe I’ll see how the next couple of years go, and how often I actually come here to use it, before I decide on whether to keep it or not.

One thing I do know is, I couldn’t be more excited to be going home. Not only do I get to see Finn today, but I’ve missed my condo, the restaurants I love, and my friends.

I’m ready to get back to my life.



He’s on his way over right now.

Today might have been the longest travel day in the history of travel days, and the flight was only an hour long. But it was delayed, and then delayed again, and by the time I got my luggage, caught a cab, and made it to my condo in Manhattan, it was after seven in the evening.

Thankfully, Finn ended up working late, so the timing worked out.

But now I’m home, and he’s on his way, and I might be acting like a sixteen-year-old on prom night.

I’ve checked my hair three times, unpacked in record time, and have been pacing around my living room for twenty minutes.

But finally, the bell rings.

“I have a Finn Cavanaugh here for you, Miss Watson,” Jerry, the doorman, says. I told him Finn was coming, but they still always announce visitors.

“Great, send him up,” I reply, and wait by the door until I hear footsteps coming down the hallway. I open the door, and when Finn appears, I launch myself into his arms, holding on tightly. He shuts the door behind him, presses me against it, and kisses me like his life depends on it.

Thank the good lord.

“Missed you,” he murmurs as his lips move from my mouth to my jawline. “So much.”

“I missed you too.” My fingers dive into his hair and hold on tight as his mouth does amazing things to my neck. “That feels good.”

I feel him smile against me, and then he lowers me to the floor and makes sure I’m steady before he pushes his hand through his hair and stares down at me as if he hasn’t seen me in, well, a week.

“How is it possible that you got more beautiful?” he asks, making me blush and roll my eyes at once.

“You’re a charmer.”

“A charmer with food.” He holds up a white paper bag, and I immediately salivate.

“Is that Shake Shack?”

“Yeah, sorry it’s not fancier, but I was in a hurry to get here.”

“Oh my God, I’ve missed Shake Shack. Not that I ate there often before, because it has a million calories, but we’d always get it on opening night.” I take the bag and lead him through my living room to my kitchen, which is open to the rest of the space. My Manhattan condo isn’t huge at only twelve hundred square feet, but in Manhattan terms, it’s huge.

“I’d say this is an opening night of sorts. Your place is nice,” he says, and watches me retrieve plates. “A condo at the edge of Central Park isn’t easy to come by.”

“Well, there are plenty for sale,” I reply with a smile. “But you’ll break the bank buying it. I bought this a couple of years ago. I got it for a steal because it was a foreclosure, and I’d just won the Tony, so I splurged.”

“You deserve it,” he replies simply.

“I think so. I have two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and dining space. Compared to my first studio apartment when I first moved here, this place is a mansion.”

“I’m sure.” We take our plates to the table and sit. I immediately prop my sock-clad feet in his lap, happy to have him close. “How was your trip?”