by Ginny Baird
“Well, I…” Tara hesitated, her head reeling. What was he suggesting? That he might come to Maine, or that she should visit Savannah?
“I was wondering if I could take you out for coffee…” He paused for effect. “In New York?”
Tara caught her breath. “New York?”
“A wise woman I know once suggested I give the city a try—just for fun.”
“Yes, but—”
“I understand it’s a distance for you.”
“It is for you, as well.”
“That’s why I thought we’d meet in the middle?”
Tara anxiously twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. The idea seemed so exciting, but also a little dangerous. Although they’d been conversing long-distance, she still didn’t know many things about him, besides what she’d found on his resume and had read online. “We’ll meet in a public place?” she asked a tad unsurely.
Heath laughed warmly, putting her at ease. “No problem. How about in the bar of our hotel?”
“Hotel? Oh, no. No, no, no… I’m really sorry, Heath. I’m afraid you’ve got it wrong. I’m not—”
“That sort of girl. I know. That’s why I’ve booked us separate rooms.” He named a ritzy hotel on Fifth Avenue, and Tara was tempted to pinch herself to be sure this was actually happening.
“Wow. My. I…I’m really not sure.”
“I got two tickets to a show,” he said, temptingly. “A great one.”
“The show? The one everybody is talking about?”
“If coffee goes well, maybe you’ll let me take you to a matinee—and then out to dinner? If it doesn’t, there’s no obligation. You’ll be free to go, or stay and attend the theater anyway. I won’t burden you with my presence.” Tara somehow found it impossible to imagine Heath’s presence could be a burden to anybody. Ever.
“You’d do all this just to meet me?” she asked, still mildly shocked.
“Yes.”
“But why?”
He waited a while before answering. Finally, he said, “Because every morning for the past sixteen days I’ve woken up thinking about you. A woman I haven’t even met in person. And no one has ever had that sort of impact on me.”
Maybe he felt that way now, but would his perspective change after he’d met her face to face? Tara led a quiet, simple life in a place that was a far cry from the glitzy social circles of Savannah. Unlike Heath’s former girlfriend, who’d appeared totally in her element, Tara wasn’t practiced at attending elegant soirees, or comfortable with stuffy conversation.
She pursed her lips, considering his offer. “Can I take some time to think about it?”
“Of course.”
“Great.”
“Only, if you could decide by Thursday, that might help so I can book our flights.”
“Our flights?”
“A gentleman wouldn’t ask a lady out for coffee expecting her to pay.”
“Yeah, but plane tickets?”
“Just say the word, and I’ll have my assistant arrange it.”
“I couldn’t let you—”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“When?” she asked in stunned disbelief.
“Next Saturday.”
“One week from today?”
“I’m sorry if that’s not enough lead-time. I was just able to grab these tickets—”
“No, no.” Tara caught her breath, her heart pounding. “It’s fine.” Was Tara really considering this? Getting whisked off to the Big Apple by Heath Wellington for a latte? It sounded awfully exciting and nerve-racking and adventuresome…
Did Tara honestly have the guts to go for it? That’s when she reminded herself that Heath had been brave enough to respond to her message in a bottle. She’d been impressed when he’d taken the leap to contact her. And everything she’d learned about him since had only made her like him more.
“Okay,” she said, at last. “I’ll do it! But just coffee in the bar, okay? No promises beyond that.”
“Excellent,” he replied. “Do you mind if I give my assistant your number?”
Chapter Eight
“Remind me again,” her dad said. “Just where are you going tomorrow?” Richard McAdams was a stocky man with prematurely gray hair and dark eyes.
Tara finished chewing her bite of meatloaf, and took a sip of water. Her dad had asked her to dinner, and it was delicious as always. “I already told you, I’m going to New York to meet a friend.”
“For coffee,” he repeated blandly. “What’s wrong with your friend? Why can’t she come here?”
“She…um…” Tara prepared another forkful of mashed potatoes and gobbled it up gratefully. “…is busy.”
“You’re too old to talk with your mouth full,” her dad admonished. “Who is this friend, anyway?”
Tara knew if she told him, he’d freak. Jeannie had freaked too, but in a much more positive way than Tara imagined her dad doing. Jeannie had actually been happy for her, and excited. So excited she’d helped Tara plan her whole wardrobe! One outfit for the flight and coffee. Another one for the theater and dinner—if she went. And a third for the following morning, in case Tara and Heath met for breakfast before Tara’s noontime return flight. Jeannie would hold down the fort at the bookstore while she was gone.
“Somebody you don’t know. A friend from…” Tara thought fast. “…college.”
“What’s her name?”
“Hea…Heather.”
Her dad harrumphed. “If Heather’s so special, why haven’t you talked about her?”
“Because, Dad.” Tara gave an exaggerated sigh. “We weren’t actually that close. Just friends from the dorm.”
“And yet you’re flying all the way to—?”
“Will you look at the time?” Tara stood abruptly, eying the clock on the stove. “I’m really sorry. I told Jeannie I’d meet her at the bookstore to go over some last-minute instructions.”
Her dad viewed her carefully. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say my girl was hiding something.”
Tara wanted to tell him. She really did. But she also didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily and Richard McAdams was the fretting kind. “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow,” she said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll tell you more about everything then.” And Tara definitely intended to, particularly if things went well.
Meanwhile, she’d provided Jeannie with details concerning her complete itinerary so someone would know exactly where she was if there was a problem. Tara slipped into her coat and headed for the door. “Thanks so much for the meatloaf!” she said brightly. “It was yummy!”
****
Heath sat in the upscale bar decorated with plush carpets, big comfy chairs, and dripping chandeliers. Large palladium windows faced out on Fifth Avenue where Saturday afternoon shoppers bustled by. A bottle of still water and two tall glasses sat on the café table in front of him. He lifted the bottle and poured himself a glass, staying mindful of the movement in the room. Every time a new woman entered, his senses alerted and his temperature spiked. While he didn’t know what Tara looked like, she would probably recognize him from the photos she’d seen online.
Though he’d had ample opportunity to ask for Tara’s picture, Heath had decided to let life surprise him. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen in Savannah. But, if his relationship with Caroline had taught him anything, it was that looks weren’t enough.
What really mattered was an authentic connection. Finding a person that you actually enjoyed being with—and could talk to. Heath felt like he’d already been developing that sort of relationship with Tara, sight unseen. He hoped things wouldn’t change between them once they met face to face.
He straightened his tie, wondering if he’d overdressed for afternoon coffee. He wore a sweater over his dress shirt and chinos and loafers. If they went to the theater and dinner afterwards, he’d add the jacket that was hanging in the closet in his room. Because he’d been able to tell Tara was a bit nervous about meet
ing him in a hotel, he’d taken care to book their rooms on separate floors. Heath had also made sure Tara’s room was extremely well appointed, with fresh flowers and a top-notch view of the city from the eighteenth floor.
She’d texted him earlier to say her flight was on time and that she’d see him shortly at the hotel, soon after checking in. Heath glanced at his watch, surmising she’d arrived by now and was likely upstairs in her room. Hopefully, admiring his bouquet and the view, and priming herself to think good thoughts about him.
Heath didn’t know how he’d gone from finding Tara’s bottle on the beach to a hotel in New York City, but in some ways he’d been on a trajectory he hadn’t been able to stop. No, correct that. It was a trajectory he hadn’t wanted to stop. Tara had captivated him from the start.
He didn’t know what to expect next, which set him slightly off kilter. Heath was the consummate planner, who always orchestrated everything carefully. Yet, there was a measure of the situation here that was not within his control. Despite his best efforts at coordinating a dynamite first date, there were no guarantees that Tara would enjoy his company, or that there’d be any real chemistry between them.
“Heath?”
He turned in surprise at the soft feminine inquiry to find a gorgeous brunette standing beside him. She must have entered from the far side of the room by the lobby, rather than near the hostess stand by the street-side entrance.
Heath shifted and got to his feet, addressing the beautiful woman. While he’d decided that her looks didn’t matter, he’d never expected to be greeted by a knockout. She wore a red sweater dress with a wide leather belt that matched her brown boots and accentuated her stunning figure. Her layered dark hair fell just past her shoulders in a tasteful, modern cut, and her creamy complexion was offset by sparkling green eyes. “Tara?” he asked, with pleased surprise.
Her heart-shaped mouth drew up in a smile. “Guilty as charged,” she said, throwing one of his earliest retorts back at him.
Heath took her hand and an electric current ripped through him. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” she said with a saucy edge.
He motioned for her to have a seat and she did, as Heath returned to his chair. “Everything all right with the room?” he asked her.
“Better than all right.” Her pretty face grew animated. “It’s gorgeous! With a view of Fifth Avenue and everything!”
“I’m glad that you like it,” he said sincerely.
“And the flowers were…” She ducked her chin with a blush. “Very pretty, too. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Heath sat back in his chair, taking her in. “Tara McAdams, in person. It’s hard to believe you’re really here.”
“I can hardly believe it myself,” she admitted, as if she was letting him in on a secret. “I’ve never done anything this…impetuous!”
“Apart from sending a message in a bottle,” Heath quipped and she laughed deeply.
“Yeah, there was that.”
Suddenly, the ice was broken between them and Heath felt himself relax. “You look very nice,” he told her. “You’re an incredibly beautiful woman.”
“And you look just like your pictures.” Her cheeks colored sweetly. “No, better.”
Heath liked the sound of that. She was apparently taken with him, and flirting. He flagged down a waiter then raised his brow. “What can I get you? Coffee? Tea?”
“Do you think they have Irish coffee?” she asked a tad impishly.
Heath hadn’t quite expected this, but he was happy to get Tara anything she wanted. “You mean the sort with whipped cream and a good shot of whiskey?”
“It’s really chilly outside,” she said, as if that explained her desire for the drink.
“Yes, and windy, too,” Heath agreed. He could think of no finer way to spend the next hour than sipping the hot frothy beverage with a kick, while in the company of a beautiful woman. “Two Irish coffees it is!”
****
Tara set down her tall glass coffee mug with a contented sigh. “That was soooo good. I’ve got to tell you, I haven’t had a coffee like that in a long time. Not since New Orleans.”
“Is Irish coffee really that hard to come by in Beaumont?”
“Oh yeah,” she said with a giggle. “Pretty much everything’s hard to come by in Beaumont, except lobster.”
Heath laughed at this. “I like lobster.”
Tara took a moment to study his sturdy build and warm brown eyes. She’d meant it when she’d said he was better looking in person than in his pictures. And in his photos, he’d looked pretty great…so that said a lot. “Me, too. But, I appreciate having variety once in a while.”
“You should try low-country shrimp and grits,” he suggested.
“I have, and they’re delicious.”
“That’s right. I keep forgetting you’ve got experience as a southern girl.”
“Perhaps, but I’m not a world traveler like you.”
“Traveling the world has its ups and downs.”
“Oh?” It was hard for Tara to imagine that.
“The long flights can be tiring. And truthfully, when I’m traveling on business, my schedule is so packed there’s not much time for sightseeing.”
“That’s really too bad. Have you ever thought of extending a trip?”
“I prefer to separate business and pleasure.” He viewed her with interest. “Have you traveled much?”
“Not nearly as much as I’d like,” she admitted honestly. “Just a little bit in the U.S. and to Enchanted Island, but I’d love to travel more overseas. Particularly to Ireland.”
His dark eyes danced. “That would be fitting for an Irish Lass.”
Tara’s face warmed. “Yes.”
Heath checked the clock above the bar against his watch. “It’s almost time for the matinee. If we’re going to get our seats, we should probably… What I mean is…” He appeared the tiniest bit abashed and Tara’s heart melted. “If you’re still interested in us going together?”
“Heath Wellington,” she said surely, “I’d be delighted to go to the theater with you.”
“And dinner afterwards?” he asked hopefully.
Tara grinned, marveling to herself that she was having a wonderful time. Heath was just as easy to talk to in person as he was on the phone. Plus, his countenance was truly a feast for the eyes. “Dinner afterwards sounds fine.”
“Great, because I know an out-of-the-way Italian place you might like.”
“Italian?”
“They make a superb pumpkin gnocchi,” he said, referring to one of her favorite foods on her earlier Top Ten list. “Plus they serve a very fine Chianti.” Heath winked and Tara tingled all over. She felt like a fairy princess, and she was definitely getting the royal treatment. “That sounds fabulous, Heath.”
Chapter Nine
Tara and Heath lingered over a second bottle of Chianti at the quaint Italian restaurant. Candles flickered on red-checkered tablecloths, and patrons packed the closely-spaced tables at the cute bistro located not a mile from Times Square. The entrance was on a quiet side street, which was one reason why Bella Fortuna was favored by locals. The other had to do with the stellar quality of its food and the relatively reasonable prices, particularly given the fact that this was New York.
Heath offered to refill Tara’s wine, but she declined, saying at this point she might be better off with a cappuccino. He laughed deeply at this and his laughter warmed her soul. “I hear what you’re saying,” he answered, setting down the bottle. “I’d probably better lay off, too. I’m sure we can cork and carry, if you’d like?”
“For later?” Tara asked lightly. She wasn’t even sure what she imagined. That they’d share a few glasses in their hotel bar, or maybe on the scenic rooftop that was set up with outdoor space heaters and comfy furnishings? She’d seen it on the hotel website once Heath’s assistant had booked her accommodations, and she’d thought the view incredibly ro
mantic. Though it was bound to be chilly this time of year.
“The hotel has a rooftop terrace,” Heath began and Tara blushed hotly.
“I was just thinking about that,” she admitted over the rim of her wineglass.
“Were you really?” he asked, looking pleased.
The server arrived to clear their plates and Heath ordered them two cappuccinos, inquiring first whether Tara would like dessert. She would have loved some of the delicious-looking cannoli she’d seen carried by, if only she’d had the room.
Once they were alone again, Heath met her eyes. “I can’t believe this is our first date,” he said. “It really seems as if we’ve known each other longer.”
Tara shrugged shyly. “I guess, in a way, we have. We’ve communicated a lot, anyhow.”
“Yeah.” His gazed roamed over her. “You know the funny thing about that? I normally don’t e-mail much, or talk on the phone.”
“You’re one of those to-the-point businessmen,” she observed.
His expression said she’d assessed him accurately. “Generally, yes.”
“What’s different this time?” Tara asked tentatively, hoping she knew.
He gently took her hand. “I got a message in a bottle.”
Heath’s touch was firm yet reassuring, like he was there to support her and not rush her in any way. Though Tara’s wayward heart was racing headlong into the future. She’d never known a man like Heath. Someone so successful, and handsome and attentive… He’d completely swept her off her feet.
“You’re treating me very regally,” she asserted.
“I wanted to make this a memorable first date.” Heath lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. Tingles skittered up Tara’s arm and warmth pooled in her belly. He cocked one eyebrow and asked sexily, “How am I doing?”