That New York Minute

by Abby Gaines

  When Dwight twitched in his chair, Rachel realized her insights weren’t entirely about KBC.

  Then Garrett said, “You need to know, Rach, loyalty doesn’t pay.”

  And she knew damn well he wasn’t talking about work. Ever since they’d left the office tonight, ever since that kiss, he’d been demonstrating his lack of willingness to engage. Warning her not to expect anything.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  GARRETT WATCHED RACHEL sipping her coffee, her hands wrapped around the mug, her face somber. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of her fingers against his scalp, when he’d kissed her tonight.

  Couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her, the sound of her little cries of pleasure. Her words I’ve never felt anything like this.

  That, more than anything, more even than the alarming sensation of being thrust out of his depth by a kiss, had decided him.

  He didn’t want to be the man who made Rachel feel…however she’d felt tonight. Next, she’d be relying on him, expecting all kinds of things—emotions, commitments—from him that he didn’t want to give.

  He’d felt like a jerk just now, but at least he’d made his position clear. As soon as she finished that coffee, she’d be out of here.

  The silence stretched until Garrett could see Rachel and Stephanie were uncomfortable with it. It didn’t bother him; nor, it seemed, his father.

  “Are you from New York, Admiral Calder?” Rachel asked Dwight after another moment.

  “Boston,” Dwight said. “The navy provides a studio apartment near the UN for my use midweek, but home is Connecticut—New London. We moved there before Garrett was born.”

  “He means he and Michelle, his first wife,” Stephanie inserted easily.

  She’d never shied away from mentioning his mom, Garrett realized. Never acted possessive or resentful.

  No need to resent a woman who’s not around to compete.

  “We didn’t want to leave, even though the navy sent me on long-term assignments every so often,” Dwight said. “Michelle used to say New London was the safest place in the world.” He rubbed his forehead. “Which is ironic.”

  It was obvious he was referring to her death. Damn, just when Garrett had made it plain Rachel wasn’t getting anything more out of him. He waited for her to pounce on the opportunity to learn the truth.

  “Indeed,” Rachel murmured, and took another sip of her coffee. “So, what’s been your most enjoyable assignment?”

  She wasn’t asking about his mother?

  His dad launched into a description of the three months he’d spent at Coronado. Rachel gave every impression of interest, while Garrett sat there wondering why she hadn’t asked how his mother died.

  One possible reason was that she’d lost interest in him. That would be good. Yep, he told himself, that would be excellent. Just dandy.

  “Stephanie, you need some sleep.” Dwight reached out, touched Stephanie’s arm. “I’ll go now. Rachel, can I offer you a ride?”

  “I live way up in Washington Heights,” she said.

  “That’s no problem,” Dwight said. “Though I should warn you, I drive a Hummer. You’ll have to set aside any greenie scruples.” It was the kind of heavy-handed humor his father specialized in. It was also a dig at Garrett, who’d called the Hummer a gas-guzzler on more than one occasion.

  “Maybe not the most ecofriendly car,” Rachel agreed. “But lovely and safe.”

  Which of course had Dwight beaming.

  Rachel stood. “I need to wash my hands before we go.”

  “Use the ensuite in my room at the end of the hall,” Garrett said. “Stephanie’s bathroom is a war zone.”

  Dwight looked startled at the news his wife was a slob. Stephanie lifted her chin and stared him down.

  On her way to the bathroom, Rachel gave Garrett’s bedroom a once-over. His room was neater than she would have expected. Very neat. A king-size bed with a dark blue duvet. Both nightstands were stacked with books.

  She switched on the light in the bathroom and saw a narrow marble vanity unit that looked like it was an original fitting. The shower, though, was übermodern with glass walls and glazed rectangular tiles.

  As Rachel washed her hands, she noticed the liquid soap was the same brand as the one in the shower.

  She sniffed her fingers. A faint smell of ginger. Not the scent she’d come to think of as Garrett’s trademark. The vanity unit held a mug with a toothbrush and paste. No cologne.

  She glanced around the bathroom. The mirror above the washbasin concealed another cupboard, she realized. She looked over her shoulder, then opened the cupboard.

  More soap, a razor, aspirin. No cologne.

  Where was it? She snapped off the light and returned to the bedroom. No cologne on the nightstands, or the beech dresser. The logical place for it would be Garrett’s top dresser drawer. But of course, she couldn’t look there.

  If Garrett was shutting her out of everything else, he certainly wasn’t inviting her into his dresser.

  She sank down onto the end of the bed and contemplated her disastrous night. Snooping on Clive had achieved a big fat nothing. The kiss that she’d considered earth-shattering had led Garrett to behave obnoxiously…and to the discovery that the firm she loved valued the fickle Garrett much more highly than it did her.

  Rachel badly needed to win at something. Even if it was just by proving that Garrett did indeed wear cologne.

  One drawer, she told herself. One look. Though technically she should check out the nightstand drawers, too.

  One drawer on each item of furniture.

  Quickly, before she could chicken out, she opened the top drawer of the nightstand nearest the bathroom. No cologne.

  The top drawer of the dresser was similarly lacking. But it did contain a paper shopping bag bearing the brand of an expensive baby store. Rachel peeked into the bag. A merino sleep-sack, soft gray printed with white sheep. She cursed the wave of tenderness that washed over her. Big deal if Garrett bought a snuggly gift for his new sibling.

  She was after cologne, not baby gifts. Last chance, the other nightstand.

  Rather than walk all the way around the enormous bed, she threw herself across it and tugged the drawer open. Nothing.

  At least, no cologne. Just a heap of shiny stones scrunched up in a corner of the drawer, which, when she lifted them, transformed into a necklace of gems, many of which she didn’t recognize, set in gold filigree. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

  “Looking for something?” Garrett asked from the doorway.

  She shrieked. “That’s the second time tonight you’ve sneaked up on me.”

  “It’s not called sneaking up when you’re going through my drawers.” He advanced into the room.

  She slid off the bed. “If you must know, I was looking for your cologne.”

  “I told you, I don’t wear the stuff.” Garrett closed the dresser drawer she’d left slightly ajar.

  She held up the necklace. “What’s this?”

  He groaned. “For Pete’s sake, Rachel, what does it take to knock you back? It’s none of your damn business.”

  “It takes a lot more to knock me back than you’d think possible,” she said. “Just because you’re running scared, Garrett, that doesn’t mean I am.” She waved the necklace at him. “Ex-girlfriend? Tramp who broke your heart and stole your wallet but left this souvenir?”

  A smile tugged at his mouth. “My mother made it. She was studying at the Jewelry Arts Institute here in Manhattan. She was working on her first collection.”

  When she died.

  Rachel examined the necklace. “She was really talented. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “She was amazing,” he said. “When she chose to do something, she put her all into it. She wanted us—me and Lucas—to be the same. She never tried to force choices on us—we always knew she would love us whether she approved of our decisions or not. But she was adamant that we should choo
se something that would make us happy, and pursue it until we got it.”

  “What does Lucas do? Is he in New York, too?”

  “He’s in the navy, flying choppers on an aircraft carrier in the Persian Gulf.”

  “Cool,” she said. “When did you last see him?”

  “Christmas.” He straightened the duvet where she’d rumpled it. “Dad would never exert his influence to get Lucas home for the holiday, but obviously the powers that be did it for him anyway.”

  “Is Lucas like you?” she asked.

  “He’s a good guy,” Garrett said. “He has a lot of integrity, and he flourishes in the discipline of the navy. He’s got what it takes to be a leader.”

  “Polar opposites, then,” Rachel said.

  He smiled, and to Rachel it seemed bittersweet. “My father’s very proud of him.”

  Rachel swallowed. “Were your mom and dad happy together?” She handed him the necklace, and he pocketed it.

  “Yeah. I have no idea how. If Mom had known how quickly he’d forget her, maybe she would’ve felt differently.”

  Rachel longed to comfort him, but she knew it was the last thing he wanted. His relationship with his dad was a mess—thank goodness he’d had such a wise, loving mother for most of his youth.

  Michelle Calder’s advice—figure out what will make you happy, then pursue it—had a lot going for it. Rachel wondered if Garrett’s brother had achieved that goal. Unlike Garrett, who was still flitting around the advertising industry, from one job to another. He was—

  Realization dawned. “Oh,” she said.

  “If you’re done snooping through my things, you’d better leave,” Garrett said. “Dad’s waiting… .” He paused as he noticed she wasn’t moving. “What’s up?”

  “I just figured out something really ironic.”

  “You may not be a good judge of irony at one-thirty in the morning,” he warned.

  “It’s all about your mother,” she said.

  His sigh was exasperated. “What is?”

  “You and the way you live. I always thought you had so many different jobs because you can’t commit. Because you’re a flake.”

  “No, please,” he murmured, “say what you really think.”

  She grinned. “But really, you’re just doing what your mom told you to do.”

  “Okay, it’s late.” He headed for the door.

  “You discovered that advertising is what you love, what makes you happy,” she said, “and you’ve spent the last few years working your way up. Giving it everything you’ve got.”

  “Interesting theory.” He left the room, forcing her to follow.

  “You don’t lack loyalty or commitment at all,” she said behind him.

  “Yes, I do,” he said.

  “Nope. You want to be the best damn creative director in New York, and you’re going for it. You’re committed to your career and loyal to your mom’s philosophy.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said. They’d reached the living room. “Rachel’s ready to leave, Dad.”

  Stephanie had already gone to bed, so there were no prolonged goodbyes.

  “You know what this means, Garrett,” Rachel said as he was about to close the door on them.

  “I have a horrible feeling you’re about to tell me.”

  “The bad news, for me at least, is you’re going to be almost impossible to beat in the Brightwater pitch.”

  He grinned. “Now that’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

  “The reason is that this is way more important to you than you’ve admitted even to yourself,” she said.

  He made a winding motion with his hand. “And the good news?”

  “You’re a decent guy who’s quite capable of forming lasting relationships. Your problem is, you’re also a big coward.”

  The door slammed in her face.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  GARRETT WAS IN THE MIDDLE of reviewing the Brightwater creative that he’d be showing Tony tomorrow, when his cell phone rang.

  “Hi, Stephanie,” he said, aware that a month ago he wouldn’t have addressed her by name.

  Since then, he’d seen her at all hours of the day and night, learned she was the messiest bathroom user in the history of modern plumbing, had her tail Clive for him and let her drive him to a midnight raid at the office. He’d laced up her sneakers for her when she couldn’t reach her feet anymore. Kind of hard to hate her after all that.

  “Garrett, I need you to come right away.” Her voice was tense.

  He straightened in his chair. “What’s the matter? Is it the baby?”

  “Please, Garrett, just get here as soon as you can—2300 Southern Boulevard, in the Bronx.”

  “What are you doing way up there?”

  But she’d hung up.

  Garrett tried to call her back as he raced out of his office. Her phone was switched off. What the hell was going on?

  He kept calling her from the taxi, through the interminable twenty-minute drive. Why wouldn’t she answer? What if she was hurt? What if the baby was…gone?

  He called Rachel. Who might be the most annoying person in the world, but was also the most likely to understand how he felt at any given moment. Not that he’d tell her that.

  “I’m in a cab, heading for the Bronx. Stephanie called. I think something’s wrong.” He told her the details, heard her sharp cry of distress.

  “Do you want me to meet you there?” she asked. The concern in her voice, for him as well as Stephanie, warmed him through his anxiety. Almost enough for him to overlook her kooky theories about what made him tick.

  Out the window, Garrett saw I-95 signs.

  “Looks like you’ll be somewhere near the zoo,” the driver said.

  “I’m nearly there,” Garrett told Rachel. “I’ll see what’s going on and call you if I need you.”

  “Let me know either way,” she said. “And that’s an order, Garrett.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” For once, he didn’t mind her bossiness.

  “You said 2300 Southern?” the driver asked.

  “Yeah.” Garrett shoved his phone in his pocket, and pulled out his wallet.

  “That’s actually the zoo,” the cabbie said.

  Huh? Garrett stared out the window as they pulled up near the gate between two tour buses. There was Stephanie, scanning the street. She waved when she saw him.

  She was upright, at least. Some of the panic left Garrett as he paid the driver. Maybe her car had broken down and her pregnancy hormones stopped her doing something logical like calling AAA. Though why she was at the zoo…

  “What’s up?” he asked as he approached her.

  “Okay, don’t get mad,” she said. “The baby’s fine and so am I.”

  Nothing like saying Don’t get mad to raise someone’s hackles. “What’s this about, Stephanie?”

  A school group, maybe ten-year-olds, passed them, chatting at a hundred decibels about tigers and camels. Automatically, Garrett tugged Stephanie out of the jostle zone, over by a chain-link fence.

  “It’s about you,” she said.

  He glared at the teacher, who wasn’t telling those kids to keep the noise down. “What?”

  “Your childhood ended too early, when your mom died,” Stephanie said.

  Garrett stiffened. She didn’t get to talk about his mom, the woman whose place she usurped. “I wasn’t a child,” he said coldly.

  “Sure, your voice had broken,” she said. “Though don’t think I didn’t realize you were making it deeper than it really was.”

  Something suspiciously like a blush warmed Garrett’s face.

  “You were fifteen,” she said, laughing. “Of course you deepened your voice.”

  “Just tell me why you dragged me out of my preparation for the most important pitch of my life,” he said. But he had a horrible feeling he knew the answer.

  “You’re the one who said yesterday that you think better when you take some time out of the of
fice to clear your head,” she said. “So we’re going to the zoo.”

  Garrett turned on his heel, only to have her lock her hands around his arm with a determined strength.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “You resisted every attempt I made at getting close to you when your dad and I married. I don’t blame you for that, but I blame myself for not pushing harder. For letting you get away with it because it was easier.”

  “You did me a favor—I didn’t want your excursions and your home-baked muffins,” he said. “I didn’t want them then, and I don’t want them now.”

  “You needed them,” she said. “It wasn’t about me replacing your mother—we both know I couldn’t do that, nor should I have ever tried. It was about you not having to grow up overnight and be this young man you weren’t quite ready to be. No matter what you thought.”

  Garrett swallowed over something scratchy in his throat. “This is crap.”

  “No, this is my way of apologizing for giving up too easily,” she said. “Please, Garrett, let me take you to the zoo.”

  “I’m busy, I have a pitch—”

  Whoa. Before he could figure what she was doing, Stephanie had grabbed his hand and pressed it against her stomach.

  He felt it.

  A definite kick, as if—as if there was something alive in there.

  There is, dummy.

  “How does that feel to you?” he said wonderingly.

  Her face broke into the most beatific smile. “Amazing. How does it feel to you?”

  “Amazing.” He realized he still had his hand on her stomach and she was no longer holding him there. He let his hand drop.

  “Come on.” Stephanie gestured to the zoo entrance, and Garrett found himself following her meekly to the ticket booth.

  “Damn, if we’d come here fifteen years ago, maybe we could have passed you off as a child,” she joked as she handed him his ticket.

  Garrett shook his head, still not quite sure what this was all about. “I’d better call Rachel. She’s worried you’re in premature labor.”

  “I’m sorry.” Stephanie touched his arm. “I didn’t think you’d come if I invited you to the zoo.”

  Well, duh.

  Rachel laughed when he told her what was happening.