by Marie Force
Eric watches over me until the elevator dings on the thirtieth floor.
My brain suddenly comes alive. “My purse!”
“Got it,” he says, producing it from under his arm.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
Winking, he says, “Always happy to assist a damsel in distress.” He scoops me into his arms, again with hardly any fuss, and carries me down the long hallway.
He’s charming, handsome, fun. If I were capable of caring about another man, he’d have my interest. But I’m not capable. I’m barely able to walk, which is why he’s carrying me.
“Can you get out your key?”
“Uh-huh.” I’m all thumbs as I open the purse and dig out the key from the inside pocket where I stashed it earlier.
Outside my door, he puts me down but doesn’t let go. He takes the key from me, opens the door and picks me up again, carrying me inside and placing me on the bed.
The minute I sink into the pillows, the room starts spinning wildly. I sit up quickly—too quickly—and a wave of nausea overtakes me. God, why did I drink so much?
“Are you going to be sick?”
“I really hope not.”
“Sometimes it’s for the best.”
“I never drink.”
“I figured as much. Didn’t take much to make you tipsy.”
I wonder if he’s teasing me, but when I glance at him, I see only care and concern. Then he reaches down to help me out of my three-inch heels. He gets up and retrieves a T-shirt I tossed on the bed earlier. “Want to change? I’ll help you, and I promise not to look.”
Since the dress is tight, I’d love to take it off even if I’m not sure he’ll keep his promise not to look. “Yes, please.” I turn my back to him, contend with another sickening room spin and wait for him to unzip me. I wrestle my way into the T-shirt before I take his hand to stand and shimmy out of the dress. “Gotta pee.” I stagger into the bathroom and manage to take care of business and brush my teeth without falling. I hear Eric talking in the other room, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.
I leave the bathroom and return to the bed. As I perch on the edge of the mattress, I wish the room would quit spinning.
Eric comes and sits next to me.
“Were you talking to someone?”
“I was ordering up a cure for what ails you. It’ll be here momentarily.”
“A cure sounds really good.”
He nudges my shoulder. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll fix you right up.”
Because it’s there and because I need it, I rest my head on his shoulder, comforted by his presence, his easygoing disposition and his willingness to help me. It’s been such a long, lonely time since I could lean on anyone, and as I lean on him, I realize how much I’ve missed having that.
Then he makes it even better by putting his arm around me.
I luxuriate in his warmth, his strength and the appealing scent of him. I doze off and come to with a start when a doorbell rings. My hotel room has a doorbell. I find that unreasonably funny.
“If I let go, will you fall over?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, here goes…” He releases me in increments, making sure I’m steady before he gets up to answer the door.
I hear him exchanging words with the delivery person as the mouthwatering scent of pizza fills the air.
Eric returns carrying a small pizza box, a brown bag and two bottles of water, all of which he puts on the desk. He comes over to the bed, arranges the pillows behind me so I’m sitting upright and helps me get settled. Then he brings me a slice of pizza on a paper plate and opens one of the bottles of water for me. “May I present the time-tested pizza cure?”
I take a bite of the best-tasting cheese pizza I’ve ever had in my life. I’m not sure if it’s because the pizza is that good or it’s just that I’m starving, but whatever the reason, I devour that first piece and ask for another.
“Feel better yet?” he asks.
“So much better.”
“The pizza cure works every time. The bread acts like a sponge and soaks up the booze.”
“Where did you learn of this cure?”
“I was a frat boy in college,” he says with a wink and the charming grin that’s been unleashed on me repeatedly during our day together. “That’s where I learned all the most important life lessons.”
I snort out an inelegant laugh. “I’m sure the lessons were memorable.”
“Indeed, they were.” From the brown paper bag, he produces a bottle of pain meds and shakes two of them into my hand. “Take them and drink all the water.”
I follow his directions and settle into the pillows, watching him as he eats the rest of the pizza and guzzles the other bottle of water.
“Thank you.” I’m grateful for his cure and his company.
“My pleasure.” He wipes his face with the napkin and comes over to stretch out on the bed next to me. What would’ve been unimaginable only this morning is now comforting and intriguing… The sleeves of his tuxedo shirt were rolled up hours ago to reveal strong forearms with golden-blond hair. “You look much better.”
“I feel much better. Sorry to be high maintenance.”
His laughter transforms his face from handsome to devastating. “You call this high maintenance? Sweetheart, you wouldn’t know how to be HM if you tried.”
I’m rattled by the compliment as much as the term of endearment. “Still… You didn’t want to spend your brother’s wedding night tending to a sloppy drunk.”
He reaches across the mattress for my hand. “My brother’s wedding day was one of the best days I’ve had in a long, long time.”
I squeeze his hand. “Me, too.” It was the best day I’ve had in five years, and that’s all because of him.
“I’m going to want to see you again, Ava. Would that be okay?”
Would it? Am I ready to start something new with someone other than John? How can I start something new when I still have no idea what became of the man I love? Am I willing to risk another heartbreak, or would I be better off alone?
“Wow,” he says on a long sigh. “I didn’t expect that to be a complicated question.”
“It wasn’t. It isn’t… I just…”
“Is there someone else?”
Is there? I don’t know, and I experience a flashpoint of rage directed at John for doing this to me. How could he leave me in this state of purgatory? How could he have let me fall so deeply in love with him, knowing it was possible he’d have to leave me this way? “No, there’s no one else.”
“So…” That smile is irresistible, as I’m sure he knows.
“I’d like to see you again.” I have no idea what I want from him, but today was fun. I need more fun in my life, and Eric Tilden could be just what I need to jumpstart my new life in New York.
* * *
I don’t recall falling asleep with Eric, but he’s still there when I wake the next morning, feeling surprisingly well rested and refreshed thanks to his miracle cure. He moved closer to me in his sleep, and his arm is stretched across my waist, which means I can’t move without disturbing him.
He slept in his clothes on top of the covers, a perfect gentleman when he could’ve been a typical guy and taken advantage of my drunken state. That he didn’t even try earns him big points. I take a closer look at his handsome face, noticing the fine laugh lines around his eyes, the golden whiskers, the strong jawline and the lips that move adorably, as if he’s having a conversation with someone as he sleeps.
A frat boy of all things. It’s all I can do not to laugh. Most of the frat boys I met in college weren’t people I wanted to spend time with. My friends dated a few here and there, and they’d lived up to their reputations. I try not to stereotype people, but most of the frat boys I’ve met in my life wouldn’t have fed a drunk girl pizza to make her feel better.
Eric has great hair, the kind that doesn’t require product to look like he just stepped out of a photo shoot. I wonde
r if it’s soft or coarse, and I reach out to touch it.
His eyes open, startling me. For a long, charged moment, he stares at me, and then his face softens when he smiles. “Caught you,” he says in a teasing tone, his voice rough from sleep.
I feel my face heat with embarrassment. “You have nice hair.”
He twirls a lock of my hair around his finger. “So do you. You have nice everything.”
“Are you always this charming first thing in the morning?”
“I do some of my best work first thing in the morning.”
He’s dangerously appealing. He makes me want things I thought I’d never want again. In one spectacular day, he showed me just how lonely I’ve been. I’m tired of being lonely and sad. I’m tired of mourning a man who’s been gone so long, it’s like he never existed. I like Eric and feeling as if I matter to him.
He’s still holding my hand when he says, “Do you remember saying you’d like to see me again?”
“I remember.” I have no idea if I’m capable of moving forward with someone else, but I had a nice time with him, and I like the way I feel when I’m with him, like someone has my back. I’ve missed that.
His smile reminds me of a little boy on Christmas who just got everything he asked for from Santa. “My parents are hosting a brunch for the family today. You want to come with me? Camille and Rob will be there, and Amy and Jules, too, so you’ll know a few people.”
“They won’t mind an unexpected guest?”
He kisses the back of my hand. “They won’t mind.”
* * *
When we walk into the room where the brunch is being held, Camille grabs my arm and steers me into a corner. “Tell me the truth. Did you have sex with Eric last night?”
I wrestle my arm free from her tight grip. “No. I didn’t have sex with him.”
“Amy saw him coming out of your room this morning and told Jules, who told Rob. Welcome to the Tilden family, where nothing is a secret for long.”
I’m mortified to have been the subject of family gossip. “I got a little drunk, and he stayed to make sure I was okay. That’s all it was.” That’s all she needs to know, anyway.
She gives me the cagey stare that’ll serve her well as a lawyer. “Rob says Eric is into you.”
“Okay…” Where is she going with this?
“Are you into him, too?”
“We had a nice time together yesterday, and he helped me out when I got drunk. No need to make it into a middle-school drama.”
“I don’t mean to do that. But there’re things about him… things you should know. If you are into him…”
“What things?”
Camille nods to her mother-in-law, who’s waving her new daughter-in-law over to meet someone. “I can’t talk about it here. Later.” She takes off to deal with her new family, leaving me to wonder what “things” she needs to tell me about Eric.
He’s with his brother and some other men, each of them handsome and well-dressed. When his gaze collides with mine, he smiles and waves me over to join them. I cross the room to stand next to him, and he places his hand on my back, a possessive move that has me leaning in a little closer to him. “This is Camille’s sister, Ava. Ava, you know my cousin Nate, and these are his brothers Tyler and Justin.”
I shake their hands. “Nice to meet you both. Which side of the family are you guys on?”
“Our fathers are brothers,” Eric says.
I end up sitting with Eric and six of his male cousins. I learn his father is one of seven brothers, each of whom has at least two sons. The Tilden gene pool has been kind to the men in his family. Eric, the only blond, stands out among his dark-haired cousins, who share his charm and sense of humor. I’m thoroughly entertained by them even as I wonder what Camille will tell me later.
Eric’s arm is across the back of my chair, as if he’s telling his cousins I’m off-limits. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I’m having too much fun to quibble about where his arm is. Mrs. Tilden comes over to say hello and zeroes right in on the location of his arm.
“Ava,” she says, “I’m so glad you were able to join us.”
“Thank you for accommodating a last-minute addition.”
“No problem at all. Any friend of Eric’s is a friend of ours.”
“Easy, Mother.” He never loses the affable smile that’s so much a part of who he is even as his eyes harden ever so slightly.
Mrs. Tilden squeezes his shoulder. “Nice to see you smiling again, honey.” She moves on before he can reply, but the exchange leaves me with more questions.
“Aunt Sarah Beth is looking rather hopeful,” Jack, another of Eric’s cousins, says.
“Aunt Sarah Beth needs to learn to mind her own goddamned business,” Eric replies sharply, so sharply it startles me.
“Easy, Skippy,” Tyler says. “Now that Rob is married, all the focus shifts to you and Amy. You had to expect that.”
Eric turns to me. “Let’s get out of here.”
Since I came as his guest, I take the hand he offers and follow him from the room, noting Camille’s stunned expression as I walk faster to keep up with him. He keeps moving down two flights of stairs to the lobby, where he heads right for the main doors. Once we’re outside, he stops, takes a couple of deep breaths and glances at me.
“You want to tell me what just happened there?”
“My mother happened. She drives me nuts.”
“You want to walk?” I left my suitcase at the bellman’s stand before brunch and can go back for it later. I’m planning to take the Northeast Regional train back to Purchase this afternoon.
“I’d love to walk.”
CHAPTER 3
AVA
We stroll up Park Avenue and over to Central Park, past the Wollman ice rink and along winding leafy paths that almost make me forget I’m in the middle of one of the biggest cities in the world. “This is so pretty,” I say, breaking a long silence.
The air is filled with the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass and hot dogs, a thought that makes me laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“How this entire city smells like hot dogs.”
He laughs along with me. “Yes, I suppose it does. Since we didn’t get to eat, you want one?”
“A hot dog for breakfast?”
“Why not? Think of it as hair of the dog—literally.”
I laugh at that. “Sure, that actually sounds good.”
“Coming right up.”
While I take a seat on a bench, he fetches hot dogs for both of us and icy cold bottles of Coke. “Mustard,” I tell him when he points to the condiments.
He sits next to me, hands over my hot dog and the soda, and we eat in silence.
“This might be the best hot dog I’ve ever had,” I tell him.
“Street hot dogs are the best. I haven’t had one in years.”
“Neither have I.”
He hands me a napkin that I use to wipe the mustard from my lips, and I think once again how easy he is to be with. I feel like I’ve known him much longer than two days.
“I was engaged,” he says, breaking a long silence.
I’m not sure if I should say something or let him speak. Before I can decide, he continues.
“She ghosted me.” He glances at me to gauge my reaction. “You know what that means?”
I shake my head. I’m not familiar with the term.
“She ended our relationship without telling me. She quit her job, moved out of her apartment and basically exited our life together without a single word to me.”
I can’t contain the gasp that escapes my lips. He probably thinks I’m expressing shock over what was done to him, but what truly shocks me is how similar his situation is to mine.
“Did you ever find out where she went?”
He nods. “Amy and Jules hunted her down, confronted her, got her to admit that she’d met someone else and wasn’t sure how to handle me or our family or all the expectation
s that come with being ‘engaged to a Tilden.’” He puts air quotes around those last four words. “They demanded she return the seventy-five-thousand-dollar engagement ring I’d gotten her—and made her pay for the canceled wedding.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.” The hot dog sits like a brick in my belly. I should tell him something similar happened to me, but John didn’t “ghost” me. He’d been called to duty in service of our country. He could be dead for all I know. It’s not the same thing.
“Thank you.”
“Did you love her?”
“I really did. And when she dropped off the face of the earth, I went crazy trying to find her, thinking something awful had happened to her. People covered for her, including people I’d considered friends. They said they didn’t know where she was. I called in the NYPD, made a fool of myself looking for a woman who wanted out of our relationship badly enough to fake her own disappearance. Do you know what kind of planning it takes to disappear in the age of social media?”
I swallow hard. Emotion rushes through me, making me feel weak and sick. I should tell him that I understand, that I get how painful it is to lose someone you love with little or no explanation. But I haven’t told anyone what happened to me, and I probably ought to tell my sister before I tell her new brother-in-law.
The thought of telling anyone, of having to relive it, makes me dizzy, nauseated and sweaty.
Naturally, Eric notices because he pays attention. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I understand the courage it took for him to share his painful past with me. I can’t make it about me. I shake off my emotional reaction so I can focus on him. “What happened just now with your mom?”
“Any time she sees me so much as talking to a woman, she gets all excited, thinking this is going to be the one to save me from myself.” He gifts me with the lazy grin that would indicate he hasn’t a care in the world to anyone who doesn’t know better. “I couldn’t subject you to that, and I was in no mood for it myself after such a good day yesterday. That was the first really good day I’ve had since everything happened, and it’s all thanks to you.”