"You’re happy," Tessa commented.
"Happier than I ever thought I could be." His gaze followed his wife and daughter as they went into the bedroom. Then he turned to Tessa. "So what’s so important you can’t do the interview with the governor. We never got into that. You just turned me down cold. Do you have another assignment?"
"No. I’m helping out a…friend. With my godson."
"The little boy in Vermont you sometimes talk about?"
"Yes. Ryan. He’s eight now and having some problems in school. I went to Vermont for his birthday—I do that every year—and decided to stay a little longer."
"His dad is your friend?"
"Actually his wife was my best friend. Since she died Max has tried to be mom and dad to Ryan, but that’s tough. So I’m trying to figure out what’s bothering Ryan…if he misses having a mom or if there’s more to it. But I can only stay until mid-November and then I’ll be taping all sorts of segments for the Summit." She hesitated a moment then said, "But I’m afraid Ryan is getting attached to me and I’ll have done more harm than good staying with them."
"Giving a child love can’t hurt." He looked thoughtful. "So you’re living with this…friend?"
For some reason she didn’t feel awkward talking about this with Linc. Maybe because they’d always been honest with each other…maybe because she knew what he’d been through before he married Emma. They’d had some honest conversations over drinks when they worked together on a project and she wasn’t flying off somewhere right away.
"I am. And that could be a problem for him. He’s a teacher. "
"What does he think?"
"He wants me there for Ryan’s sake."
"Is that the only reason?" Linc asked perceptively.
"I’m not sure," Tessa answered glancing away.
"Do you care about him as well as his son?"
She’d admitted it to herself. Maybe if she admitted it to Linc, her loving Max would become more real. "Yes, I do. But nothing can work out. Not with the work I do. He’s traditional. Leslie was a homemaker. I’m not his type."
"Emma and I had extraordinarily different lifestyles. But we’re happy."
"You’re both in the same place."
Linc’s brows arched. "Maybe you should figure out how to do work you love yet stay in the same place. It is possible."
Was that possible? Would her restlessness abate if she felt she actually belonged somewhere? If she’d be part of a real family?
That idea would take a lot of reflection. Because what if she stayed and Max didn’t feel as deeply about her as she felt about him?
"If you need anything, Tessa, you know I have contacts."
"I’m not worried about contacts," she told him. "I’m worried about how much risk I want to take."
"Loving is a risk," Linc agreed. "But it sure can make life worthwhile."
Becky ran into the room again, waving the menu. "They have chicken nuggets. I changed my mind."
Tessa was glad for the interruption. Because loving Max was a concept that was still just too hard to wrap her head around…let alone her heart.
***
After Max put Ryan to bed, he went to his bedroom and dialed Tessa’s cell number. To his disappointment, he reached her voicemail. He wondered where she was and who she was with. The man who'd called? He could try the Bennington, but she probably wouldn’t pick up there, either. Leaving a message, he simply asked her to return his call. When she did, it was almost midnight.
"Max? I just checked my messages. Is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing’s wrong," he assured her quickly. I’m calling because tomorrow…actually today is your birthday. Happy birthday!"
"Thank you."
Max felt a little awkward but continued, "I thought you shouldn't spend your birthday alone. I thought I’d catch a train and join you in New York tomorrow. For a late lunch…or dinner."
"Will you bring Ryan?" she asked as if searching for his motive.
"No. I’d come alone. Flo and Scruffy are going to babysit." He tried to keep his voice nonchalant.
"It would be fun to spend some time with you in New York," she said cautiously. "But I have a lunch meeting and I’m joining friends for a late dinner."
Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Were you with friends tonight?" He was hoping there wasn’t a man still in her room with her.
"Yes. Linc Granger and his wife Emma."
"His wife was with him?" This was the man who’d called, who Tessa had been so warm with.
Tessa laughed. "Don’t you think any of my friends are married?" When he didn't respond she went on, "Linc and Emma married last year. He had business in New York, so his wife and daughter came along."
"Daughter?"
"Emma was a single mom. She and Becky went to the American Girl doll store while Linc was tied up. We had dinner in their suite so they could put Becky to bed at a decent time. You know how that is."
Yes, he did. "And these friends tomorrow night?"
"They’re more colleagues than friends. Why don’t you come up and we can get theater tickets. We can see a show then you can go to dinner with me."
"You’d enjoy the theater?"
"Very much."
"Your friends won't mind?
"No. They like meeting new people."
He felt relieved…and excited, too. "I’ll see what tickets I can find online. I’ll surprise you."
"I like surprises, Max," she said softly and he wished he was in New York with her now. He was glad he’d bought her the chain.
"Great. I’ll see you tomorrow. What’s your room number? I’ll call you after I check in."
She told him. Then she said, "I’m looking forward to tomorrow night. Good night, Max. Thanks for wishing me a happy birthday."
"Good night, Tessa."
When he closed his phone, he realized how much he was looking forward to tomorrow night, too.
***
Max could feel the warmth of Tessa's leg as the cab swerved around a corner. The taxi driver honked his horn at the car double-parked in front of him. With another honk and a screech of wheels, he veered around the vehicle. Tessa's hip bumped Max's as she slid against him on the cracked vinyl seat.
Max didn't mind and he didn't move away. He wondered if her beige coat was new. It wasn't easily packable like her trench coat. And the dress underneath—
The royal blue dress with its high neck, short puffed sleeves and slim short skirt brought out the sleek lines and tempting curves Tessa usually hid underneath jeans and a sweatshirt. She wasn't hiding anything tonight. He’d wanted to give her her present before leaving for the theater. But they’d been short on time. So he’d decided to wait for the right moment…maybe after they returned tonight.
He’d managed to buy tickets for a popular show, but he really hadn’t cared about the play. He’d cared about being with Tessa. Now, after the performance, the taxi wove in and out of traffic toward the restaurant.
Like many restaurants in New York, HENRY'S didn't look like much on the outside. But as soon as Max stepped inside, he could feel the understated elegance. It was dimly lit by gleaming brass chandeliers. Wrought iron partitions afforded diners a modicum of privacy. Rose linens trimmed in black set off the sparkling crystal goblets and spotless silverware. After Max checked Tessa's coat, they walked up to the maitre d' at his little black podium.
"Ms. Kahill. It's good to see you again. Your friends have already arrived. I've placed you at the back round table."
"Thank you," she said with a bright smile as she followed the tuxedo-clad man to the rear of the restaurant.
Max had often wondered about Tessa's world. Now he was glimpsing it.
A woman and two men sat at the round table. They were involved in lively conversation, but it stopped when Max and Tessa reached the table. One of the men whistled, another pretended to wipe his brow as his gaze ran up and down Tessa's dress.
The woman gave both of them a "down-boys" gla
re. "Ignore them. They've been on assignment too long."
"After that trek south of our border, Tessa looks mighty good. Of course, so do you, Louise."
The petite brunette laughed. "Still a master at tact, Dan." She turned to Tessa. "How are you? It's been a while."
Tessa nodded. "Capetown. Last year."
"I hear you're covering the Summit," Louise commented. "Lucky girl."
Max nodded to the maitre d' that he would seat Tessa. As he pulled her chair out for her, she said, "Before we start talking shop, I want everyone to meet Max Winthrop." She introduced him to Dan Holloway, Louise Shaeffer and Joe Christopher.
The men shook his hand. Louise smiled. As he seated Tessa and took the chair beside her, he examined Dan Holloway more closely. He was obviously interested in Tessa in more than a professional way. Max could tell by the guy’s frown of disapproval that she’d brought him along…by the way he was eyeing Tessa in her dress. The journalist was in his early forties with thick but salt and pepper hair. His blue eyes seemed to concentrate on Tessa much too long. Unfortunately, he was sitting across from her so he had a good view. But Max was close enough to touch her. His body responded to the thought.
Tessa spread her napkin on her lap. "Have you ordered yet?"
"Just drinks," Louise answered. She addressed Max. "How do you know Tessa? Are you in TV? What's left of print?"
Max glanced at Tessa, not knowing how much she'd told any of these people. "We've known each other for years. I came to New York to help her celebrate—" A sharp kick to his shin made him turn in her direction. She was smiling sweetly, but he got the message. "To help her celebrate her upcoming trip to Oslo."
"Prime assignment," the man introduced as Joe muttered.
Louise added, "I'm just glad Tessa has climbed the ladder and cracked the glass ceiling."
It was obvious that Tessa's colleagues respected her. And it was even more obvious during conversation over dinner that Tessa and the others spoke their own language and were much more knowledgeable about the world's affairs than Max was, though the world seemed to be growing smaller every day.
By the time dessert arrived, Louise poured cream into her coffee and said, "Enough about politics. Don't we have anything else to talk about?"
The others around the table looked at each other, were silent a moment, then broke into smiles.
Tessa laughed. "I guess not." She looked at Max. "You must be bored to death."
His eyes connected with and held hers. "No. Fascinated, actually. Do you realize all of you are part of history in the making?" He nodded to Joe. "You being present when we withdrew troops from Iraq." He gestured to Dan. "Making environmental concerns an issue." Covering Tessa's hand with his on the table, he instantly felt a sensation that was more than skin touching skin. He remembered what he'd been about to say. "You'll be recording what will happen at the Summit. Do you feel as if you're part of history when you're doing it?"
Joe shrugged. "I guess we're too close to each event to see the sum total. What do you do, Max?"
"I teach high-school math and try to make it applicable to kids' lives when I can."
Louise's lips puckered in a small O. "Now that's a job I wouldn't want. I don't see how you can deal with teenagers day after day. You must have a ton of patience."
"And I don't see how you travel constantly, remember what city you're in and don't have constant jet lag," Max returned.
Dan responded. "Every job has its trade-offs. I guess it all boils down to what you like to do and what you want out of life. My camera keeps me seeing the world differently every day." He grinned. "The excitement ain't bad, either."
Quiet descended on the table, and Louise and Joe agreed with secret smiles that said they shared Dan's view. Max surveyed Tessa, but she just looked pensive as she took another bite of cheesecake.
Music began playing on the other side of the restaurant. It was easy and slow, and Max suddenly wanted Tessa in his arms. He leaned closer to her and the elusive fragrance of her perfume teased him. "Would you like to dance?"
Transferring her napkin from her lap to the table, she answered, "Yes, I would."
They excused themselves, and Max kept a protective hand on her back as they wove around the partitions and tables. The fabric of her dress was smooth and slippery under his fingers.
Once on the small wooden dance floor, Max took Tessa in his arms, her right hand in his, her left resting close to his neck. The tantalizing but discreet contact made his heart beat faster. "I hope I'm not cramping your style. If you'd rather be back there talking about your work—"
"I talk about work every time I see them. I've never danced with you before."
"Sure, you have. Two weeks ago."
"That wasn't quite like this."
As he pulled Tessa slightly closer, strictly for comfort's sake of course, he had to agree. That had been nothing like this. "Why didn't you want them to know it's your birthday?"
Her shoulders lifted and fell, making the material slide under his hand. "I don't like a fuss. Besides," she teased, "a woman my age soon stops counting."
He chuckled. "A woman your age? Did you add on a few years that I don't know about?"
A lingering smile turned up her lips. "Only that day I finished Ryan's lopsided costume and grew a few grey hairs."
Max played with the curls on her back. "I can't thank you enough for helping Ryan the way you have."
The pulse at her throat fluttered in rhythm with his. "We still don't know what's bothering him."
If Max kept touching her hair, kept looking at her perfectly curved mouth, he'd have to kiss her. "Maybe it will work itself out," he said gruffly.
"I don't know, Max. Childhood problems don't just disappear. They carry over no matter how old you get."
Max guided Tessa for a few moments in silence. "I worry about Ryan being an only child. There are inherent problems in that. He doesn't have to share. He gets all my attention. And I wonder if he's lonely."
"He doesn't have to be an only child forever. You could remarry." The slight tilt of her head, the quirk of her brows, seemed questioning though she'd uttered a statement.
It was on the tip of Max's tongue to ask if she was applying for the job. But he realized he couldn't ask in a teasing way because her answer would have too much significance. "Yes, I guess I could."
She seemed startled by his reply. Her green eyes grew as dark as an evening forest and just as mysterious. Would she ever think about settling down? He couldn't imagine her ditching her career. It meant too much to her. A nagging voice inside his head whispered, She stayed to help Ryan. But he couldn't listen to the voice and take any comfort from it because her staying was strictly short term.
As other couples crowded the dance floor, Max tightened his arm around Tessa and brought her hand into his chest. The sensation of her softness against him went straight to his head and other more elemental parts of his body. The burning realization that he wanted more than to simply be pressed against her made him finally face up to the facts. He wanted to take Tessa to bed. He wanted to make love to her, hold her throughout the night and wake up with her in the morning. Did that mean he was ready to put his marriage to Leslie in the past? Did that mean he wanted an affair with Tessa? Because that's all he could ever have.
Tessa succumbed to the delicious tingling that had begun as soon as Max surrounded her with his arms. She told herself this was simply one dance, nothing more. But the feel of his wool suitcoat against her cheek, his arm possessively holding her, his fingers intertwined with hers, led her to believe this was where she wanted to stay for longer than one dance.
If she lifted her head just a smidgen, her lips would brush his jaw. She imagined pressing them there, whispering...I love you? What could that mean for them? Max was as traditional as ever. Time hadn't changed that. Even if she'd find a job in New York, could he accept a woman whose career was as important as her personal life? Whoa, girl. Reality check. You have no idea what Max feel
s.
As he closed her tighter in his arms and his lower body pressed against hers, she did know he desired her. She thought he'd back away, but he didn't. Swaying with her, guiding their small steps, it seemed he needed to just feel and enjoy the desire and closeness, too.
After another dance and another hour of conversation with Tessa's cohorts, Max and Tessa caught a cab and went back to the hotel.
When they stepped into the elevator, he pushed the button for her floor. "I'll walk you to your room."
Before this stay with Max, she might have protested. Before this stay with Max, he never would have joined her in New York. Everything had shifted and changed between them.
At her door, he took a package from his pocket. It was a small rectangular box wrapped in silver paper with a tiny white bow. "Ryan has something to give you when you get back. I'd rather give this to you now. Happy Birthday, Tessa."
Her fingers trembled as she unwrapped the box. She did it slowly, stalling, prolonging the moment. She'd received few gifts in her life. Leslie had always remembered her birthday. But this...this gift she'd remember forever. "Are you sure Ryan was all right with you coming to New York?"
"He was fine with it. He wanted me to come to make sure you came back to Jenkins."
An alarm went off inside Tessa. Was Ryan afraid she'd leave him as Leslie had? She was becoming more and more sure she didn't want to leave...
Max took the paper from her fingers and stuffed it into his pocket. She stared at the box, almost afraid to lift the lid.
"Open it," he urged gently.
Nestled on the soft bed of cotton, she found a sparkling gold chain. Her hand shook as she gently slid her finger under it, bringing it from the box. "Oh, Max. It's beautiful."
"I noticed the one holding your ring looked worn. The salesclerk said this would be strong enough to hold the ring, plus it's something called diamond-cut so you can wear it alone.
Tessa's eyes misted over at Max's thoughtfulness. To do something like this...didn't that prove he cared? "Will you put it on for me?"
He smiled a slow, lazy smile that made her pulse leap. "Isn't it a little late? In a few minutes you'll be getting undressed."
That thought created pictures that made her shake because she thought of him undressed, waiting in bed for her. Holding the chain out to him, she turned around, not able to find a suitable reply. She wanted to feel the gold next to her skin. She wanted to see it gleam. She never wanted to take it off.
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