“Do you want it to be that kind of a thing?”
Lucy put her hand on her chest. “My heart kind of does. A little.” Liar, a chiding voice whispered inside her head. Your heart wants it a lot. “But he’s not a ‘staying’ kind of guy—or if he was, probably he wouldn’t be with me.”
“Why not with you?”
“It’s just that it’s not that way with us.”
“What way?”
“We’re friends. With benefits, for now. That part—the two of us being lovers, was supposed to be just for Thanksgiving. And now it’s only until Thursday. And I’m just starting out, anyway. I’m not ready for anything serious, no matter what my silly heart keeps telling me.”
“Shut the front door. Just for Thanksgiving?”
“Please. Don’t ask me to explain. It’s...”
“Do not say ‘complicated.’”
“But it is complicated.”
Tabby set her cup down and leaned toward Lucy. “You need to talk to him about it, tell him how you feel.”
“But that’s just it. I don’t want to talk to him about it.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“No, I want to enjoy the time I have with him and then when it’s over, I want us to remain friends.”
“But you’re not enjoying it.”
“Yes, I am. Mostly. Mostly, I’m enjoying it a lot.”
“Lucy, sweetie, you should see your sad little face. Talk to him.”
“I feel like such a child again. It’s the one thing I hate, to feel like a child. I’ve felt like a child for most of my life, sick all the time, not getting to do any of the things other girls did, with other people hovering, worrying and having to take care of me. And the whole point in the first place with me and Dami being more than friends was for me not in any way to feel like a child.”
Tabby kicked off her duty shoes and folded her legs up to the side. “Is he treating you bad?”
Lucy gasped. “Dami? Never. Not in any way. And this whole thing, it was my idea. I’m the one who started it, okay? I asked him to be my first lover and he wasn’t into it, but as usual, he was a hero about it and tried to let me down easy. But then he discovered that maybe he could be into it with me.”
“Oh, right. He discovered this, did he?”
“No, Tabby. I’m serious. He always thought of me as a kid before, you know?”
“Oh, spare me. I’m a busy woman with my parents’ business to run, but even I read the National Enquirer now and then. The man is like some world-class lover, right? I’m sure he can tell if he’s attracted or he’s not.”
“Uh-uh. He’s not like that, not with me. He’s not a player with me. He really has been my friend first and foremost. And we really, truly were just friends until Thanksgiving. That’s when I went after him. I went after him and I kept pushing and finally, well, it happened. We made love and it was beautiful. Exactly what I dreamed it might be. And it’s been that way every time since the first time.”
Tabby had her lips pursed up and her brow furrowed. “It was supposed to be over after Thanksgiving, you said....”
“That’s right. But he had meetings here in New York and, well...”
“What you’re saying is he started it this time.”
“Well, he was here and all, and he lives in the building whenever he’s in New York, so of course we—”
“Oh, stop it. He’s a prince with buckets of money, right?”
“I don’t think I like the way you say that.”
“Too bad. The point is, if he didn’t want to be with you, he could have stayed at the Four Seasons. You’d have had no idea he was in town. He wanted to be with you. You want to be with him. It’s what I said at the first. You need to talk to him.”
“But I told you, this whole thing with him and me was always with the understanding that it was only for a little while.”
“And maybe that was your mistake right there.”
“What do you mean, my mistake? He’s my friend and I trust him and I asked him to do me this very special favor. That’s all it was supposed to be.”
“So? Now it’s more.”
“No. You’re not listening. I’m honestly not looking for forever right now.”
“Oh, honey. Maybe you’re not. But your heart? That’s a whole other story.”
* * *
Dami called at four-thirty.
The minute she heard his voice saying he was on the way, Lucy realized what an idiot she’d been. No matter what Tabby thought, she did not need to talk to Dami about how she wanted more from this thing between them.
She didn’t want more. She was happy with things as they were. Yes, all right, she would be sad when he left. But that was the way it went. That was life. You needed to revel in every moment. You needed to get through the heartache.
And move on.
He took her out to dinner at a great steak house on the Upper East Side and they shared a bottle of very expensive cabernet sauvignon. Lucy ate almost all of her filet mignon—not to mention a prosciutto-and-melon appetizer, cold asparagus salad and a baked potato the size of Long Island. They split a slice of New York cheesecake for dessert.
The restaurant was exclusive enough that no paparazzi popped up to take their picture while they plowed through the huge, delicious meal. They laughed together and toasted Viv’s recovery and Tabby’s new man and the holiday season in general.
Then he took her back to his place and straight to bed. He made love to her slowly, looking in her eyes. And when he whispered her name at the end, well, she could almost have wished she did want forever right now.
Tuesday, like Monday, went by too fast. Lucy went to the hospital in the morning while Dami worked. Again his meetings went on and on. Lucy had time to buy an extra litter box for Boris. Then she went up to Dami’s, got the cat and took him back to her place. He kept her company while she worked some more on the detailed sketch of Alice’s wedding dress.
They stayed in that night. And in the morning when she woke up, he wasn’t in the bed. But she could smell coffee brewing and something delicious cooking.
Breakfast in bed? Did it get any better? They were going to have a perfect day, lazing around without any clothes on, maybe getting up later and doing something festive.
How about a tree for her place? She grinned at the thought. They could get decorations, too. And then they could put up the tree together.
Her grin faded.
And then when he’s gone, won’t I love that? whined the sad little voice in her head. Every time she looked at the tree she would have to remember this last perfect day, the beautiful time they’d had choosing it and decorating it together.
Uh-uh. Forget the tree. Bad idea. Better just to stay in bed late, make love a lot and go somewhere nice for dinner. And then make love for half the night. That would be a perfect goodbye.
Goodbye. The word seemed to bounce around, echoing, inside her head. Her heart was racing. Her cheeks felt too warm.
She dragged herself up against the pillows and made herself take slow, deep breaths.
She was being an idiot and she was stopping that right now.