Part-Time Lover (Part-Time Lover #1)(66)

Laughing, I say, “I don’t know. That’s why I rang you. To devise one.”

He furrows his brow, but a minute later, he offers a fantastic idea.





38





Elise





“That was great. Thank you so much for making all this time,” Nate says the next day as he walks me to the elevator banks at his offices in Midtown.

“I’m so excited to get started. These meetings were invigorating. We’ll have materials to show you within a week.”

“Can’t wait.”

We say goodbye, and I shoot down to the ground floor, delighted the partnership is starting so well. Even when I leave, I hold my chin up high, determined to enjoy my time in New York. Two days of meetings have been exhausting but energizing.

As I walk up Fifth Avenue, I feel the pull of Central Park, but I’m going to heed another call. That of friends. Last night I fired off emails to some of my favorite women in the city, and I’m meeting them at a bar called Speakeasy.

I reach the establishment, push open the door, and find my redheaded friend Nicole waiting for me. She waves me over. “You’re back!” she shouts as she pulls me in for a hug.

“Not to stay, but for now.”

She punches my arm. “C’mon. New York is way better than Paris. Don’t you want to move here?”

I laugh. “And the campaign to have me relocate begins.”

“New York is awesome. We need you here.”

“Yes, we do.”

I turn in the direction of the new voice. It’s Abby, a tiny little blonde I adore. I hug her too. “My New York girls.”

After we order, I tell them I require chapter and verse on where they’re at with their husbands and children.

“My little angel is finally sleeping through the night. Only took eight months and three weeks to reach that glorious milestone,” Abby says, then bats her eyelids as if she’s falling asleep.

Nicole pats her knee. “Sleep is the new sex, isn’t it?”

Abby laughs. “Yes, but am I greedy to want both sleep and sex?”

I raise a glass. “I see no reason you shouldn’t have it all.”

Nicole weighs in. “My oldest is finally at nursery school, and he’s already an incorrigible flirt.”

“Well, he is adorably handsome,” I say, since her four-year-old son is the cutest creature on earth.

I dip my hand into my purse and grab two pretty pink bags wrapped with ribbon. “If sleep is the new sex, then candy is the new wine.”

I give them their gifts from Paris, a mix of Veronica’s favorite sweets from her shop. “But don’t share with the kiddos. Those are just for the moms.”

Nicole clutches her bag to her chest. “Mine, mine.”

It’s only when I say goodbye, with hugs that could go on for days if I let them, and promises to return again soon, that I feel that pang again. That ache that reminds me that I still want a little more.

Actually, I want a lot more.

I stroll up Fifth Avenue. Good thing I changed into flats after my meeting. When I turn into the park, my phone rings.

Quickly, I grab it, and answer the call from my brother.

“Hey there,” he says.

“Hey to you.”

“Do I get to see you again before you leave?”

“Of course,” I say with a smile. “I fly back tomorrow, but I’m free tonight. I’m heading to Central Park now.”

He laughs. “Let me guess. The Conservatory Garden?”

“However did you know?”

“Perks of being the big brother. You learn all the habits.” He clears his throat. “I need to finish something at work, but I can meet you there in an hour and a half. Does that work?”

“It’ll take me time to walk there, so that’s fine.”

When I reach the gardens, it feels like coming home. I breathe in deeply, inhaling the scents of the Japanese lilacs, the purple cornflowers, and the hydrangeas. I grab a spot on a bench by the fountain and savor the sights.

My heart squeezes tighter in my chest. It beats harder. It wishes for someone.

For one person.

Yes, I am happy without him. But I’d be happier with him.



*

Stop and Smell the Days blog

July 20: Cliff-diving in a field of flowers



My lovelies . . .



Here I am in Central Park, inhaling the glory of the gardens. Summer is in full bloom, and all my favorite scents envelop me. I devour the royal purples, the gentle pinks, the blazing yellows, and I drink in the smells of the season wafting around me. This is a flower-lover’s paradise, and when I’m here, I’m convinced it is heaven for the senses.

For the sights, especially, and the smells.

And for the heart. I’ve always felt at home here, ever since I was young. When I visited these gardens, I felt as if I belonged to them. I didn’t feel that kind of belonging again until I moved elsewhere, to another city around the world.

And I felt it one other time too.

With a person—one particular person. It’s only with him that I feel as if my wild heart has come home.

Time to jump off the cliff.



Yours in noses,