by Carrie Lomax
“I know. I’ll make it up to you later,” she grinned. “Don’t worry, those rooms are soundproof. Go on, check out the deck.”
He shifted his attention to the window. Beyond it was a snow-crusted roof deck, and beyond the glass railing stretched Central Park, neatly bordered by tall buildings. “Wow.”
She wasn’t immune to the view either. “It’s closed for the season, or I’d take you outside. The city looks a lot better from twenty stories high.”
“Why?”
“You can’t see how dirty it is from up here.” Alyssa bit her bright lower lip. The sight of her white teeth against the crimson made Marc’s balls tighten.
“Seen enough?”
Not even close. “Of your office? I’ll be seeing it again later, right?”
“If you agree to the plan. You can walk away any time.” They returned to her desk. She let him hold her coat while she shrugged into it. She changed her shoes for boots, much to his disappointment, and collected a sleek black handbag from her desk.
Did he agree?
In the bright white elevator, she leaned against the opposite wall. “What’s your reaction so far?”
“I wasn’t thinking there would be an audience of a hundred thousand people.” Sailing was his world. He didn’t want to share it. He didn’t want to share Alyssa either. Not with a job, not with strangers on the Internet. He wanted her all to himself. If she’d thrown this plan at him back in Florida he’d have told her she was out of her mind.
A week ago, he’d believed relationships were no more complicated than two people deciding not to have sex with anyone else. Maybe monogamy technically entailed sex with one person, but to keep that person around you had to figure out what made them tick. Sometimes you had to give up what you wanted to get something you needed more.
Alyssa liked her work. He loved her for her ambition, even when it had carried her here, to this drab, cold city beyond his reach. He couldn’t deny her an opportunity to stretch her potential.
“Is that a no?” she asked into the long silence.
“It’s a maybe.” It was the best answer he could give. For now. At least he hadn’t laughed.
* * *
Alyssa sighed, her lungs pressed upward in her chest by a giant ball of stress seething like the surface of the sun. The elevator door slid silently open.
Alyssa stuck her arm through Marc’s, guiding him expertly through the crowded sidewalk. “This way.”
Marc yawned in the cold bright light.
“The first six months I lived here, I napped every day. Like a toddler.” Alyssa vowed to get them each a glass of wine ASAP.
“I can see why.” He rubbed his jaw.
“You get used to it after a while.”
“Speaking of naps, can we check into the hotel yet?”
We. Alyssa’s body went hot inside her jacket. “Not until after two.”
He frowned. “I want to know how you went from a crappy promotion to this plan.”
“Dana agreed HR was being pedantic about the money. You asked me last week what else I could negotiate. I hadn’t been thinking beyond the next rung on the promotion ladder. I spent some time imagining my dream job. The first requirement was something that let me travel with you. The second was an income that lets me help my sister with her debt problem. The third piece was how I could have more creative control. On Monday, I asked for a half hour with Dana and told her I wasn’t taking the promotion. I told her what I needed, and we brainstormed from there. I would never have done something like this if it weren’t for you, Marc. In fact, I credit you with the idea of monetizing my social media following.”
They separated momentarily to leap over a mountain of slush. As much as she’d missed him, the past week had given her the space she needed to finally process her crazy vacation. If Marc didn’t say yes, she couldn’t go with him now. Their relationship would have to be long-distance until she’d helped Janelle. She might be able to do that soon, if Dana’s instincts about the value of her social media accounts were on point.
She knew she was asking a lot. There were plenty of reasons for him to say no. But she wasn’t going to flake out on everything she’d worked toward simply because he’d given her the best orgasms of her life. She couldn’t be a full partner to him if she was dependent on his largess. That was part of what had messed up her relationship with Zach, and she wasn’t making the same mistake with Marc. She loved him too much to let that happen.
“I guess that’s a compliment?” he asked as they rejoined on the other side of the street.
“It is.” No matter what happened between now and Monday, he’d given her the push she needed to chart a new course. Marc was her Polaris, her North Star. “I tried to keep you out of it, but Dana thinks the clients will be interested in the couple angle because it opens up more target audiences.”
“If we do this, I want to be in it all the way. For one thing, I had no idea there was that much money in snapping selfies. Maybe I’ll give up real estate. Speaking of which, what about your apartment?”
Predictably, he’d hit the roof when she’d told him about impulsively loaning her apartment to a homeless woman.
“I spoke with Gina. She needs to resubmit paperwork with the new address, which might take months, but the voucher should cover most of the rent and it will help her get on her feet while she finds a job. We’re talking with the landlord, but it looks like it’ll work out. In the meantime, I’ve got a place to stay until I wrap things up here.” Alyssa turned and put her gloved hand on his arm. “I’m glad you want to be involved in the project. I want it to be something we do together. Both the social media and the sailing.”
Marc looked away. He tucked her hand into his elbow. “You’ve been busy.”
Alyssa nodded. Fatigue weighed her body like a layer of mud. She’d pushed hard this week. She wouldn’t get much rest over the weekend, either, judging from the way Marc was devouring her with his eyes. Good.
The cold, dry air scraped her cheeks until they were raw. Yet the Christmas lights still hanging over the streets and in the shop windows somehow made the city feel warmer, full of twinkling magic if you dared turn your attention away from the filthy slush at your feet. She’d miss New York. Parts of it.
On a whim, she tugged Marc’s hand. “Let’s see if the tree is still up at Rockefeller. It’s only a block out of our way.”
The huge tree rose before them in all its gaudy glory, tinsel still winking with cheerful strands of lights and decorated with giant ornaments. They leaned against the rail watching skaters milling on the ice rink below. Their breath steamed in companionable silence. Her phone beeped.
“Dana’s not joining us for lunch.” Inane. Yet she didn’t want to ask him again whether he would go along with her plan. Alyssa knew he was turning the idea over. It wasn’t fair to pressure him, no matter how badly she wanted his answer.
“Maybe we could check into the hotel early.”
“Worth a try.”
“And our next meeting with Dana is at three?” He wasn’t watching the skaters any more.
Aly smiled, staring at the tree for as long as she could before she succumbed to temptation and met his eye sidelong. “Yep.”
“Good. I can’t wait to get you out of business not-so-casual.” Marc held her gaze until the intensity became too much. This time, she had to break eye contact.
“Since you plan to join us at three, is that a yes?” Please say yes.
Marc shifted and faced her. Alyssa pushed herself up from the wall and looked up at him and wished she was still wearing her heels so their mouths would be a few inches closer.
“You know it is. All I ask is that you cabin off space for us to be alone. I’m tired of seeing you in public. I want to take you somewhere secluded and not come up for air for weeks. But if I have to share a little bit of you with a hundred thousand people to get that, I’m all in.”
Alyssa grinned up at him. Her breath steamed and curled in the cold
air. “Thank you.”
“Excuse me. You take our picture?”
Alyssa turned, ready to snarl at the perfectly nice foreign woman holding out a camera.
“Sure.” Marc took the camera. The woman and her family posed, the camera clicked, and the moment was over.
“You want picture?”
Marc turned to her. “Start things off right?”
“Sure.” Alyssa guarded their territory in a prime spot with a view of the tree as Marc set up the camera. When he joined her, she didn’t cheese it up for the camera. Instead she kissed him the way she’d wanted to when he’d shown up that morning. Slow. Lingering. Deep.
The tourists took photos until there was nothing more to photograph, waiting awkwardly for them to finish. A breathless Marc retrieved his camera. Alyssa reached up to rub her lipstick away with her thumb. She surely looked a mess. Her toes were frozen, her cheeks numb, and she could hardly feel her fingers or ears, but it didn’t matter. Her heart was warm enough to revive it all.
* * *
“What are we doing this evening?” Marc asked as they rode the elevator up to the hotel room. Indeed, there had been a room available for early check-in. How convenient.
“We could stay in.” She flashed a grin at him, then trailed a fingernail down his chest, trailing a wake of ripples down his abdomen. “New Yorkers tend to be homebodies. We don’t go out much.”
“Does that mean your apartment?” This environment was so foreign to him. He didn’t understand the appeal. His girlfriend was no hothouse flower if she could thrive in this barren place. If he’d held any lingering doubts about her ability to sail with him, they’d been obliterated today.
Girlfriend. He was still trying that word on for size and liking the way it sounded better and better.
The elevator pinged open. Alyssa made a face. “No. My neighbor complains about every imaginary noise. I can tiptoe in socks and he’s calling me.”
“We should give him something to complain about as a parting gift.” Beneath her wind-chapped cheeks, he could see he’d made her blush.
Alyssa inserted the key card into the door and held it open. They had an hour until the meeting. More than enough time to get reacquainted.
He dropped his bag on the floor as the door slammed behind them.
All that and more. In a heartbeat. He’d follow this feeling with her anywhere it led. To the ends of the earth. And back again.
End
Author’s Note
While I’ve tried to represent Cuban-American life in Florida accurately, readers interested in a more authentic voice will find it in the works of Andie J. Christopher: https://andiejchristopher.com. She’s terrific.
A few years ago, I had the pleasure of staying at Le Pavillon in New Orleans. I knew I wanted to use the beautiful roof deck in a story, so I’ve brought the hotel to Florida for Alyssa and Marc (and you) to enjoy. Pictures at www.lepavillon.com.
Homelessness is a significant problem in the U.S. For those who find Gina’s subplot a stretch, I was inspired by the story of a Washington, D.C., couple, Rachel and Erik Cox, who chose to forfeit Christmas gifts and help a homeless stranger obtain an apartment. Read more at http://bit.ly/2y6Vhlm. 10% of the proceeds from this book will benefit the National Coalition for the Homeless.
* * *
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Acknowledgments
I am profoundly grateful to fellow Maryland Romance Writers Association members Ingrid Hahn, M.C. Vaughan, and Mona Shroff for feedback, insights and general hand-holding. You are all amazing writers and friends. Emma Prince, without your encouragement this book would still languish on my hard drive. Anya Kagan at Touchstone Editing provided editorial guidance and much-needed wisdom; without her insights, this book would still be a hot mess. To Margaret Bates for quick-turnaround proofreading—you are a lifesaver. Liz Durano, thank you for the support, cover and teasers! All errors are my own.
Last but far from least, to my husband and family for tolerating my side gig despite a messy house, embarrassing PTA conversations and a constant supply of microwave dinners. The next books are for you.
About the Author
Carrie Lomax grew up in the Midwest before moving to New York City for 15 years. She lives in Maryland with two budding readers and her real-life romantic hero.
www.carrielomax.com
Say You Need Me
Chapter One
Janelle Carlisle’s phone beeped, waking her long enough to squint up at the bright, warm Florida sun. Even in March, she could sunbathe by the apartment complex pool. With one hand, she pushed up her cheap sunglasses to read the message.
Happy Birthday! Crystal’s in town. We’re taking you out.
Crystal was more her roommate, Rachel’s, friend. Janelle had taken over Crystal’s room when she’d gone to law school.
It’s not until tomorrow, she texted back.
Besides her ambivalence to both her birthday and toward Crystal, Janelle had only the sixteen dollars she’d earned in tips from her second job at the coffee shop to last her until Friday, when her paycheck hit. Drinks were out of budget, birthday be damned. She relaxed onto the chair. Her phone made another noise. Janelle sighed and dragged herself up.
Nobody goes out on Sundays. Are you really going to mark turning twenty-five by staying home to watch The Bachelorette for the millionth time?
A second, impatient beep. Seriously, what’s the appeal?
The fantasy of having hot, successful men compete for a woman’s attention. Duh. Was it so strange to enjoy the idea of sitting in the power seat for a while? Of having a little romance?
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen every episode of every season, at least twice.
Only if you’re buying. My car’s done for, she texted back.
Thursday, the Volkswagen rust bucket almost as old as she was had developed a sickening clanking sound, then ground to a halt two blocks from home. Friday she’d cadged a ride to work, and this morning Janelle had swallowed hard at the bad news: she needed a new set of wheels, STAT.
Come to think of it, Janelle could really use a birthday drink or two. Even if it was charity.
If you MENTION money this evening I will personally pour a drink over your head. Come out with us. Make out with some random guy just because you’re single and you can, FFS. Pick you up in an hour?
Well, okay then. Time to get off the chair and into makeup and actual clothes. Janelle lay there for another ten minutes trying to summon the energy.
Tomorrow was her twenty-fifth birthday. Only another fifty more to get through, before she could legit give up trying to get somewhere in life and die in peace.
* * *
Although they were friends, Crystal was not one of Janelle’s favorite people. Her confidence bugged Janelle for reasons she didn’t like to articulate.
“How’s law school?” Rachel asked as the waitress delivered their margaritas.
“Great. I love the professors, and the students are really dedicated. I’m planning to go into public service.”
“Careful you don’t wind up like me,” Janelle’s tone came out waspish where she meant to be flippant. She gripped the slippery stem of the margarita glass hard enough to snap it. Catching herself, she eased off. Quit with the jealousy.
Crystal didn’t bring out the best in Janelle. Law school was the inevitable place for someone like Crystal, who made a habit of asking annoyingly incisive questions. She was the kind of person who skated right past barriers, then gave them a good kick just to watch them topple over.
“In what way?” Crystal turned wide brown eyes toward her. She’d dyed her hair blonde, though a half-inch of dark roots showed through. Curvy, smart, and adventurous, Crystal had been notorious for sleeping around in college. She’d had a lot of friends but not many close ones. Rachel
was one of the few.
“Mired in debt.” Janelle sucked the dregs of her margarita through her straw. Her life had peaked in college. She’d had a great boyfriend named Ben, and she’d been confident her psychology degree would get her a decent-paying job after school—though she was vague on what it might be.
Then her parents had run out of tuition money and offered her the option of moving home for three years to finish school. In love with Ben, she’d opted to move off-campus and pick up another job, instead. Her grades had suffered, and she’d ended up taking out too many loans.
In three years since graduating she’d chipped away almost a third of her debt, but the payments still took almost half her monthly income. Rent was another third, leaving her with a few hundred dollars to cover utilities, gas, food, and incidentals. Forget getting ahead. Janelle was barely hanging on.
“Want another?” Rachel asked, indicating her empty glass.
“Sure. It’s not as if I’m not driving,” Janelle deadpanned.
“Why aren’t you driving?” Crystal asked, her thin, red-painted lips wrapped around a straw.
“Car broke down. The White Knight finally gave up the ghost.” Janelle slurped the last of her margarita before the waitress could whisk it away.
“The gleaming steed lays down its life.” Rachel clutched her heart, giggled, and reached across the table to dip a chip in salsa.
“The only thing gleaming on that car was the bumper I had replaced,” Janelle said ruefully.
“You should get a sugar daddy. I have one.” Crystal continued sucking her neon green drink, brown eyes bouncing between Janelle and Rachel, assessing their response.
The astonished laughter burst out of Janelle in a hot rush. “Funny, Crystal.”