isn’t a date, at least not a real date. It’s actually more of a…business meeting. We’re just conducting it at a party rather than at the office. And Bill Harper isn’t a stranger. He’s the mayor of New York City and he’s also an old friend of mine,” Eloise advised before she had time to remember she hadn’t previously mentioned that fact to her sons.
“An old friend?” John frowned ominously, the designated worrier.
Obviously he had assumed they already knew all of her friends, old as well as new.
“Aha, the plot thickens,” Henry chortled, rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation of the possibility for future bedevilment. “Mom and the mayor…once old friends, now sworn enemies.”
“We are not enemies, sworn or otherwise. We simply have opposing viewpoints on several issues,” Eloise explained patiently.
“So you’re actually only…adversaries.” Carl eyed her smugly, showing off his prep school education to best advantage.
“Yeah, Carl,” John joined in. “Mom and the mayor are only adversaries.”
“Poor guy…he doesn’t stand a chance, does he?” Henry asked.
“Not with our mom as an adversary,” Carl replied.
The doorbell chimed loudly, not only startling them all, but also, thankfully, cutting off any further discussion of her relationship with Bill Harper.
Shooting her sons a warning look, Eloise crossed to the intercom, exchanged greetings with the doorman, who announced Mayor Harper’s arrival, then instructed him to send the mayor up to her apartment.
In an effort to quell the sudden reoccurrence of the butterflies in her stomach, she then turned back to her sons. All of them now hovered a few feet away, the wrestling match they’d been watching on the television totally forgotten.
“Need I ask you to please behave yourselves and mind your manners?”
“No, ma’am,” they replied in unison.
Though their faces were solemn, their bright blue eyes twinkled mischievously.
“Have all of you finished your homework?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can I trust you to clean up the living room before you go to bed?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Bed by ten o’clock at the latest, okay? You know you have school tomorrow.”
“Ah, Mom—”
A sharp rap of the brass doorknocker interrupted any further argument her sons were about to give. They looked at each other, though, and then they looked at Eloise, each of them offering her an identical teasing grin.
“Mom, the door,” Carl prompted when she continued to stand and stare at them, her heart suddenly pounding, her purse and her coat gripped tightly in her hands.
“Yeah, Mom, the door,” Henry urged.
“Want me to get it?” John took a step forward.
“I’ll get it,” she said, her voice sounding odd—almost breathy—to her own ears.
She crossed the living room to the small foyer slowly, the boys naturally trailing along in her wake.
“Hey, he’s just an old friend with an opposing viewpoint,” Carl reminded her kindly when she hesitated a long moment, her hand clasping the brass doorknob.
“Right,” she muttered casting him a grateful smile.
“You look great, Mom,” Henry said, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat.
“And you’re smart, too,” John added for good measure.
Also just the tiniest bit terrified of what’s waiting for me on the other side of my front door, Eloise added silently, for her benefit alone. Then, drawing a steadying breath, she turned the bolt lock decisively.
She opened the door with a welcoming whoosh, then stood absolutely still, staring at Bill Harper with a barely contained gasp of astonishment.
She had thought she had been prepared to meet him again face-to-face for the first time in seventeen years. She had seen his picture in the paper often enough, as well as his image on the television screen. But he had been removed to a sure and certain distance on those occasions.
The lines and angles that made his face so appealingly attractive, the vitality in his bright blue eyes, the power and strength of his long, lithe frame had always been muted. Lounging casually on her doorstep, as he now was, elegantly dressed in a black tuxedo, his short salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed, his gaze direct, the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth warm and gracious, he was downright devastating, as were the memories that all too suddenly flooded through her.
As Eloise continued to meet his steady gaze, the years seemed to melt away under a rush of warmth edged with a longing that caught her completely by surprise. In those first few moments, she could think of him only as her old friend, her once dearest, most beloved friend—the man she could have married, would have married…if only. And she imagined, for the space of a heartbeat, how wonderful it would be to step into his arms that very moment, to hold him close and be held, in turn, by him.
Then, remembering that her sons stood right behind her, taking in the scene, no doubt much more avidly that she would have liked, Eloise gave herself a firm mental shake. Bill Harper had been her friend once, emphasis on had been. Now, as Carl had so nicely put it, he was her adversary. And as such, he threatened everything she had worked for with a fund-cutting flourish of his mayoral pen.
“Mr. Mayor,” she greeted him politely, offering her hand along with a dignified smile. “Come in, please, and let me introduce you to my sons.”
“Please, Eloise, call me Bill,” he replied, his tone equally polite.
He wrapped her hand in both of his far larger and much warmer ones, then held on to it just a tad longer than absolutely necessary, his blue eyes sparkling just as devilishly as her sons’ eyes had earlier.
“Of course…Bill.” She felt her cheeks warm as she finally managed to pull her hand free. Gesturing to each of her sons in turn, she added, “Carl, John and Henry.”
“Mr. Mayor, nice to meet you,” each said as he shook hands with them, showing the same warmth he’d shown her.
“Boys, nice to meet all of you, too.” He glanced at Eloise, his tone suddenly teasing as he added, “How on earth do you tell them apart?”
“It’s not always easy,” she admitted with a wry smile. “But I have my ways.”
“I’ll bet you do,” Bill said, his smile widening. “She’s not easy to fool, is she?” He directed the question to her sons.
“No, sir, not at all,” Carl replied as John and Henry exchanged amused glances.
“It’s good to know some things
