by M. C. Decker
“The Plaza?!?! We have rooms at the freaking Plaza Hotel?” I couldn’t contain my excitement as our limo pulled up to the grandest hotel in New York City. I felt like Kevin McCallister in Home Alone 2 when he got lost in New York. “Let me guess, next you’re going to take me to Duncan’s Toy Chest?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but yes we have a suite at The Plaza. I only stay at the best, and this hotel is the best around.”
“Back up – Duncan’s Toy Chest is from the Home Alone movie series. You have seen Home Alone right?”
He chuckled again before answering, “I swear, Brooke, sometimes I think you’re a nine-year-old girl trapped in a grown woman’s body – albeit a hot, sexy, gorgeous, grown woman’s body.”
I felt my cheeks flush as he held his hand out to help me out of the town car. Rich explained to me as we were checking in that he had booked us to stay in the hotel’s Royal Terrace Suite. Although we would be sharing the same space, we would each have our own bedroom.
The concierge helped us with our bags up to the hotel’s twentieth floor where he showed us to our suite. I resisted my urge to tip him with my chewed gum, as in the movie. I’d probably be the only one to find that funny; besides Rich was already taking money out of his wallet before I had time to reach into my purse for some cash.
“I know it’s getting late, but I’m pretty hungry and was thinking about ordering something from room service, if you’d like to come relax in the living room and have a bite with me? I promise, no funny business – Boy Scout’s honor,” he said, trying to assure me.
As if right on cue, my stomach grumbled. “Well, OK. I guess I am pretty hungry.”
While Rich was placing our order with room service, I took the opportunity to really look around. The lower level featured an elegant, spacious living room that overlooked Central Park, a dining area and a large powder room. There was already a roaring fire blazing in the living room’s restored, marble fireplace.
Rich walked up behind me, put his hand on the small of my back, and led me to the couch that faced the fireplace. We sat with my body nestled into his and made small talk while he waited for our food to arrive. It reminded me so much of that day spent in the Eagle’s office all those years ago. I had so many déjà vu moments with this man. It was becoming more and more difficult for my head to tell my heart “no.” I was getting comfortable – almost too comfortable with Rich.
As I was relaxing in his arms after a long day, I began thinking about what Cass had said at Thanksgiving. “Don’t let him slip away from you, again. I think you’ll regret it, someday.”
But was he already slipping away? He’d looked rather cozy with Janine recently. Maybe he’s just trying to get lucky this weekend when he already has a girlfriend back at home, or maybe he is just trying to be my friend. Maybe he was trying to give me what I wanted. Now, if only I could figure that out for myself.
A knock on the door, followed by the pleasant aroma of food, woke me from my thoughts.
“That smells divine,” I told Rich, as he walked over with a tray of food.
I dug right into the Portobello flatbread pizza while Rich started in on the Red Wine Short Rib Tacos. We also opened the house-specialty Cabernet that the waiter had brought up with our meal.
“This is simply delicious, Rich. Thanks for suggesting dinner. I was even hungrier than I thought.”
“I hope you saved room for dessert. I asked the dining room to prepare chocolate-covered strawberries just for us,” said Rich temptingly.
I smiled at the memory of a much younger Rich serving Cass and me gooey pizza and chocolate-covered strawberries in the limo on the way to our sorority formal. So much had happened since then, yet here we were – together again.
“You know I can’t turn down a chocolate-covered strawberry.”
I was stuffed to the brim after eating nearly the entire flatbread pizza on my own as well as a half dozen strawberries – at least. My insomnia along with my food-induced coma was putting me on the brink of unconsciousness.
“I think I’m going to go find my bedroom. Thanks again for dinner.”
“Please take the master bedroom upstairs, Brooke. You’ll love the view. It overlooks Central Park.”
“OK, thanks. What time do we need to begin working in the morning?” I asked Rich.
“Our first appointment is scheduled at nine o’clock, and with the heavy traffic, it will probably take about thirty minutes to get there. Would you like to meet downstairs at The Palm Court around eight? They serve fabulous omelets,” he informed me.
“Yes, that sounds perfect. Thanks, again, Rich – for everything,” I said warmly.
“No problem, Brooke. Goodnight, sweetheart.”
I was so exhausted when I finally made it upstairs that I hardly had enough energy to wash my face and pull my hair into a high ponytail. I was already dressed in my comfy clothes from the flight so I just decided to jump into bed without changing. As I began to drift off, part of me wished that Rich would come knocking on my door, but when I awoke to the sound of my alarm that next morning, those wishes had not been realized.
Rich and I spent several hours the next day working on our assignment. We’d traveled to New York City to do research on an article concerning the inner workings of the stock market. Rich had set up several interviews with Wall Street bigwigs before we arrived in the city.
His goal for us was to write a series of articles beginning with Wall Street’s history to the recent crash of ’08 to its current rebuilding. We had met with several sources throughout the day when Rich suggested we take a break for the rest of the evening.
Rich made dinner reservations at Eleven Madison Park. After waiting a few minutes in the lobby, the hostess took us to a table near the back of the restaurant. I looked at Rich quizzically when I noticed four place settings.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited my friend Blake and his wife, Alyssa, to join us. Blake and I went to Columbia together for its journalism master’s program and he stayed here in the city after graduation. He has an editorial position with the Times.”
“Really? I don’t mind at all. I can’t wait to meet a friend of Rich Davis. I was convinced, after all these years, that you were incapable of a male friendship. After all, I’ve only seen you in the company of co-workers, or ladies.”
Just as I was heckling Rich about his bromance, I heard someone whooping and hollering as a loud, booming, male voice got closer.
“What’s up, Hot?” said the man who, I presumed, was Blake.
I looked at Rich and mouthed, “Did he just call you, Hot?”
Rich just started laughing and whispered in my ear that he would explain later as he fist-bumped his friend.
I could tell that Blake commanded a room. He was huge; I mean maybe, even literally, a giant. I thought Rich was tall, but Blake had at least five inches on Rich’s six-feet-three-inch frame. His arms were probably the size of an average man’s thighs. To put it simply, he was a tree, and not just any tree – a very mature oak tree. Although his size alone might terrify most, I could tell by his bright, green eyes and deep dimples that he was nothing but a big teddy bear.
The woman standing at his side, who I assumed was Alyssa, was the complete opposite in stature of her wall of a husband. Even with her black pumps, she didn’t reach my height. I smiled when I realized that her usually tiny frame was carrying a very large, protruding baby bump. She looked like she was about to fall over. How in the heck was she still wearing heels? It was a mystery that I would never understand. She was beautiful though as she looked up at her husband with nothing but pride gleaming in her eyes.
“Early!” Rich exclaimed. “It was always like you to show up at least fifteen minutes late to everything. It’s a wonder you didn’t get kicked out of grad school.”
What the hell, did Rich call the guy “Early,” yet he was late, and evidently is always late? I really need to get more information on these nicknames.
“Blake, this is my colleague Brooke Anderson. Brooke, this is my good friend Blake Mitchell and his beautiful wife, Alyssa.”
I shook both their hands while noticing that Rich only introduced me as his colleague and not even as his friend. That’s what I wanted though, right? Even if it’s what I asked of Rich, I still felt some disappointment at his introduction.
While waiting for our food to arrive, Rich caught up with Blake as I talked about babies with Alyssa. The two of them were going to welcome their first child, a daughter, in about three weeks. I gushed about my precious goddaughter and told Alyssa stories about Cassidy’s pregnancy and labor. After all, I was like the surrogate daddy in the delivery room.
“So, what brought you to D.C., Brooke?” Blake asked, as the waitress was bringing our calamari appetizer. “Hot mentioned that you two knew each other during his undergrad days in Michigan? I assume that’s where you’re from?”
“Yes, but before we talk about me, can we back up a bit? Would you two please explain these nicknames of yours … I mean ‘Hot’ and ‘Early?’ I think I’m missing something here.”
Alyssa couldn’t resist laughing and chimed in, “Oh, honey, these two have their own language. When Blake and I first met, I didn’t know what they were talking about half the time. I’ve slowly figured it out and now even catch myself using it.”
“Whatever, Lys. It’s simple, Brooke. Everything is pretty much opposite of what we’re actually saying,” Rich explained.
“Exactly, so I call this guy ‘Hot’ because he’s so damn ugly,” Blake said, as he elbowed Rich in the rib.
“Yep, you’re just jealous that I always got all the hot chicks at Columbia,” Rich shot back. “Blake earned the name ‘Early’ because he’s always at least fifteen minutes late for EVERYTHING, as I pointed out before.”
“Come to think of it, though, I should’ve just called him ‘Hotter.’ You better pray your kid takes after your wife in the looks department,” Rich chaffed.
“You two are both crazy,” I said, as Alyssa nodded her head in agreement. “But, to go back and answer your question – yes, I’m from Michigan. Rich and I met as undergrads at Western. I always wanted to work for the Post, and thanks in part to Rich, I finally have that opportunity.”
We continued our conversation throughout dinner. I learned that Blake met Alyssa while he was studying at Columbia. She was actually in the law program and they met during a media law course that Blake was taking as part of the journalism program. They were both originally from Upstate New York, but decided to stay in the city where Blake now worked for the Times and Alyssa was a partner in a prestigious law firm in Manhattan.
Blake and Rich continued to razz each other about anything and everything. It only became slightly uncomfortable when Blake asked Rich about his social calendar.
“So, Hot, seeing any pretty ladies these days? Since Brooke is only your ‘colleague’; I assume it isn’t for your lack of trying.”
Rich cleared his throat before answering his friend’s very direct question. “Actually, I do hope there is one special lady in my life. But, we’re still working out the terms of our relationship.”
Is he talking about me? Suddenly, I became nauseated at the thought that Rich wasn’t talking about me, but, most likely, Janine.
“If you’ll all excuse me, I need to head to the ladies’ room.” I had to regain my composure. I couldn’t let Rich know that he was getting to me this way.
I made my way back from the restroom just as Blake and Alyssa were standing up to leave.
“Sorry to leave you alone with this punk, Brooke, but Alyssa’s pretty tired. It was a pleasure meeting you and please let us know the next time you visit the city.”
Rich and Blake gave each other a one-armed, man hug.
“Hey, keep your hands where I can see them, man,” Blake joked to Rich, when he gave Alyssa a warm, friendly embrace.
Ignoring his friend, Rich said to Alyssa, “Take care of yourself, Lys. Don’t let this asshole make you go into early labor. And, make sure he lets me know when my niece enters into this world.”
Rich and I had been in New York City for two entire days, and he hadn’t tried anything more than snuggling with me on the couch. This could only mean one thing – he was, in fact, dating Janine. I didn’t want to come right out and ask Rich because the last time I did that, he practically scolded me in his office. We were having a great time and working well together and I didn’t want to make the rest of our trip uncomfortable for either of us.
We spent the morning, once again, interviewing some of Rich’s contacts at the Exchange. It started snowing just as we were exiting the building for lunch. I pulled my red, wool peacoat tighter to my chest and wrapped my knitted, white, infinity scarf closer to my neck. I was glad that I chose my knee-high boots rather than the black pumps I had originally unpacked this morning.
“Why don’t we skip our afternoon appointments and play hooky this afternoon,” Rich said. “I have the perfect idea.”
“Did Rich Davis just suggest playing hooky?” I questioned in disbelief.
“Shockingly, I did,” he answered amusingly.
“You’ve come a long way since you referred to me as the ‘slacker-type.’”
“You never let me forget my arrogant ways, do you Miss Anderson? Now, let’s go have some fun, shall we?”
How could I argue with this playful side of Rich?
“Lead the way, Mr. Davis,” I said with the widest possible smile on my face.
We took a cab back to The Plaza where Rich insisted I change into something warm and comfy. I went into my bedroom and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and my favorite white, cashmere sweater. I pulled on my pink Ugg boots and completed my ultimate snow-bunny look with my matching pink, puffy jacket. After wrapping a scarf around my neck, I added a knit headband to cover my ears. I figured I would be prepared in case Rich was planning an outdoor activity.
I headed downstairs to the living room and noticed that Rich was already waiting for me, dressed in his winter gear. I tried my best to hide my disappointment after seeing his ski jacket covering so much of his sexy body.
“Where are we headed, Rich?”
“That’s my surprise, Brooke. You said you’d never been to the city before and I thought we could have some fun and maybe tackle a couple of those locations that are probably in your precious Frommer’s.”
I soon realized, when Rich didn’t immediately hail a cab, that we were walking across the street to Central Park. Rich’s hand clung to mine as we made our way through the gates and headed toward the signs that pointed toward the Wollman Rink.
“Oh my god, are we going ice skating?” I questioned, as I began jumping up and down on the sidewalk.
“Somehow, I knew you would love this. Is this part of your Home Again movie, too?” he asked.
I couldn’t help but laugh at Rich’s error. “First, it’s Home Alone and no, no ice skating. I’ve just always dreamt of skating in Central Park. And, we’re also so close to the zoo.”
“Well, I’m not sure if we’ll have time to make it to the zoo. If memory serves, it closes fairly early in the winter. But, I do have another surprise planned for this evening.”
Rich and I rented skates and glided over the ice for several hours. The snow started coming down more heavily as the afternoon flew by. After I was certain that my nose was going to fall off, Rich pulled me into a warm embrace. I gazed into his eyes and knew he was going to come in for a kiss. In that moment, I desired his kiss more than my next breath, but instead of letting my heart win, my head pulled away from Rich’s arms. “Just colleagues,” my inner voice whispered.
Although no words were spoken between us, the carefree atmosphere that had lingered between us all day began to fade
away. I had ruined what would have been the most beautiful and romantic kiss in the middle of the Wollman Rink in Central Park.
If our lips had met, the falling snow would have coated us both in a light dusting. My already rosy cheeks would have further flushed as a result of his tongue dancing with mine. But, I had ruined that picture-perfect moment. Instead, I just wanted to go back to my room and sulk. Why do I have to be so damn stubborn?
Even though I wanted to head back to the suite, Rich wouldn’t hear of it. He may have lost some of his earlier, carefree spunk, but he was still determined to show me the “right way to play hooky.”
“If you’re gonna be a slacker and play hooky, you might as well do it up right,” he kept saying.
“Go big, or go home,” I added.
We grabbed hot cocoas and hot dogs, minus the pickles for me, from a street vendor, before Rich waved down a cab to take us the few blocks to his surprise destination.
I laughed to myself when I realized we were stopping at Rockefeller Center. “Hey, this one is in the movie,” I said, as I lightly nudged him in the side.
“I figured. Any Christmas movie set in NYC has to include the tree here.”
It really was beautiful. As I stood there in Rockefeller Plaza looking up into the tree, illuminated by thousands of tiny white lights, I began thinking about how perfect this day had been. I didn’t want to leave because I was afraid of what tomorrow might bring. I didn’t want to think about Rich’s possible relationship with Janine, my career, or my reservations about us. I just wanted to stay here with Rich – forever.
I was lucky that as a new reporter I was able to get the holiday off, but I think I was getting a little special treatment from Rich. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t appreciate his giving me this special treatment, but I was so thankful to be going home that I was willing to let it slide just this once.
I was so excited to be going home for a few days to celebrate Christmas with my dad, Cass and Kaitlyn. Although I had just spent time with the girls, I hadn’t seen my dad in almost two months; although we talked almost every day, I still missed him like crazy. I also couldn’t wait to give Kaitlyn the teddy bear I bought her while in New York.