“I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand,” I frowned, looking at him searchingly. “I feel like I don’t even know you.”
“You do know me, Lucy,” Simon said firmly. “I just omitted a few minor—”
“Major.” I was starting to shift back to feeling as if I had been betrayed.
“Okay, major tidbits.” He sighed and looked out the window briefly before turning back and putting his hand on my arm. “Listen.” He paused, as if thinking about whether or not to continue.
Searching my face, he seemed to make a decision and kept talking. “You’re right. I didn’t tell you absolutely everything. I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me and wasn’t sure how much I should tell you. I didn’t think it mattered what I do or how I live. I should have told you more. I’ve been dating divas, and honestly I’m sick of it. They don’t like me because of who I am, but because of my wallet. I wanted a fresh start.”
My stomach clenched at that. I could understand Simon’s feelings. A fresh start had been my motivation, too. I looked into his eyes as he continued.
“It’s just that I wanted you to get to know me for me without any preconceived notions. My parents have a lot of money, and all my life, it’s been an issue. We grew up modestly despite the money, and as a result, people have found them to be a bit strange. I mean, why would anyone want to drive a Chevy when you could drive a BMW, right?”
“Right?” I said, unsure what to say.
“Well, those are my parents for you. A strong work ethic, big on charity—”
“Ah,” I nodded thoughtfully, beginning to soften again. “Tess mentioned how growing up, you and Mark had to forfeit your gifts to the needy children in the area.”
“Yeah,” he said with a face. “Kind of sucked at the time, but now I get it. My grandfather was made of money, and I guess they didn’t want us to think everyone else was. So between the family bucks and my invention, it’s hard for anyone to see me without a dollar sign in front of my name. The women I meet are so fixated on my bank account. I just wanted to meet someone who likes me for me.”
As I looked at Simon and realized he was being truthful, I knew he hadn’t meant to mislead me, and I hadn’t meant to assume the worst about him. Maybe this was the fate Tess and Morgan were talking about when they had come to my apartment that day. Maybe he was the man for me, but in order for me to see that he was the right man, I had to understand my own tendency to jump to conclusions about other people. Like the conclusion I had made about Cooper—assuming that because he had it all, he was the best man for my heart.
“Makes perfect sense,” I said with certainty. “And just so you know, I like you for you,” I offered shyly. “More than like you.” I held my breath as I waited for him to respond.
“Well, what do you know? That’s perfect, because it just so happens that the only bank I’m interested in,” he said, taking hold of my hands, “is Lucy Banks.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the corniness of his line, but as I exhaled, a grin spread across my face at the sentiment. I bit my lip when a thought crossed my mind. “This is the real you, right?”
“Full disclosure. Scout’s honor,” Simon said, raising two fingers side by side.
“Careful,” I warned. “In London, that means to F off.”
“Look at you! Down with the local lingo. I’d say you’ve come pretty far from that angry woman in search of a charger,” Simon said, giving my hand a squeeze.
My entire body tingled from his touch. I had come pretty far.
“I’m so happy Chaz ran into you this morning. When we said good bye last night in front of the store, I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
I reached for my glass of champagne. “To Chaz.”
“To Chaz.” Simon smiled and tapped his glass softly against mine.
“Wait,” I said, suddenly a little confused. What did my running into Chaz have to do with seeing Simon on the plane? “Why are we toasting Chaz again? Because he told me the truth about you?”
“Because he called me after you left him in the piazza. He happened to mention what flight you taking, that you were single, and, well, kind of into me.”
“Just a tad.” I held my fingers open an inch and winked. Simon’s cheeks turned pink, and he ran his free hand through his hair. I had a burning desire to rumple his hair, kiss his forehead, his cheeks....
I took a big sip of the champagne, suddenly remembering the gift I’d bought him before all the craziness went down. I struggled to swallow before I laughed aloud.
“How ironic is this,” I said, reaching into my bag to fish out the wallet. “I bought a little something for you last night, before I knew about your cash flow.” I chuckled and handed it over.
Simon looked at me quizzically before tearing off the paper. I bit my nail and waited for his reaction. He held the wallet and laughed before a serious look appeared on his face. “You’re the best, Lucy. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“Oh, it was nothing,” I said, blushing from his compliment. “I remembered the way you rolled your money in a ball and thought it might come in handy. Maybe I should have bought a bigger one.” I winked, and as Simon smiled at me, I could actually feel the warmth coming from his eyes.
I shook my head in wonder and squeezed his hands. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I whispered.
“From day one, the only thing I wanted was to make you feel the way you deserve to feel. Tell me something,” Simon murmured, leaning towards me. “Is this the Pretty Woman moment you’ve been waiting for?”
I inched closer to him and gave him a soft kiss. “Now it is,” I whispered with a smile.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the special people who took the time to read this when it existed in its earliest form. And especially to those who read it more times than I can ever thank them for. To my first unofficial editor, Tess Forte, who gave me the confidence to start a writing career, Samantha Skule who taught me the power of visualization, Karin Newell Piscitelli whose guidance extends from the characters in my book to the characters in my life, Allison Dickens and her creative suggestions, Nicole Pultz who has a magnifying glass for an eye, and to my husband Tommy who not only is a little bit Simon, but is a lot of bit wonderful.
Endless love and gratitude to my parents who taught me that anything can be accomplished, my sister who can read my mood better than any book, my amazing friends who give me daily focus, and my in-laws who have given me the actual time to focus. To my friends at Fiorello Dolce, whose cappuccinos on the sidewalk transported me back to Florence, to Caroline Andrus for the cover, and to Nancy Schumacher for turning my dream into a reality.
About the Author
Jeannine Henvey, a Long Island native, graduated magna cum laude from Hofstra University with a Master of Arts in Industrial / Organizational Psychology.
After graduate school she moved to Manhattan where she mastered the art of job hopping. She finally landed in publishing where she had a long stint as a promotional writer for many popular women’s magazines.
Jeannine had backpacked around Europe with three of her friends in between undergrad and grad school. Whether in a youth hostel, on the EuroRail, sitting in a pub, or at a sidewalk cafe, she kept a journal throughout the two month trip. Over the years, she had come across the book and put it away, knowing that one day she would do something special with it. It was that journal that inspired her to write Tales From a Broad.
When she's not traveling the world with her fictitious characters, Jeannine is happily grounded with her husband and three children on Long Island.
https://www.facebook.com/jhenvey
http://www.jeanninehenvey.com
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