Stephanie graduated from college, he asked her out on a date. She’d thought he was joking at first, but when she realized he was serious, Stephanie said, “Sure, why not?”
Maybe that would have been good enough for most people—a comfortable, feet-on-solid-ground start for the same type of clearheaded romance. But it wasn’t quite good enough for Stephanie. She wanted more. Some indefinable but essential ingredient was missing. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but as time went on, she realized her so-called romance with Tommy never quite progressed beyond, “Sure, why not?”
She might be willing to date a man for that reason, and even go steady for several years. But she ultimately discovered she could not answer his mature and logical proposal of marriage by saying, “Sure, why not?”
Tommy was dear, he was sweet. He had good values, a strong character, an easygoing, pleasant personality. Their backgrounds were so similar, they could share a private joke with a mere glance. But Tommy was not the man she wanted to share her life with.
Her family was shocked and unhappy when Stephanie announced the breakup. Her parents had hoped Angie’s wedding would inspire Stephanie to set the date as well. They’d never imagined Angie’s nuptials would have just the opposite effect.
“You’re throwing away a good chance here, Stephanie,” her mother warned. “I just don’t understand you sometimes.”
Then her father chimed in, “You’re just nervous, sweetie. Everybody’s afraid to get married, believe me. Sure you like your job. It’s fine for a girl to work until the babies come. But you don’t want to end up like Aunt Lily, do you? Living alone with a bunch of cats to keep you company?”
Aunt Lily was her grandmother’s so-called spinster sister. The story was that when her fiancé died in World War II, Lily would have no other. A spinster or not, Aunt Lily had always seemed very happy and fulfilled to Stephanie. She’d been a schoolteacher and now was active in her retirement years, always traveling to exotic places on educational tours for seniors. Lily always invited Nana Bella to come along, but Stephanie’s parents always dissuaded her. Despite her father’s dire warning, Aunt Lily’s golden years didn’t look half bad to Stephanie.
Besides, women had far more choices these days. But try telling that to her well-meaning, but totally sexist, traditional father. He was hardly aware that women had the vote.
What was the use of arguing? Stephanie couldn’t explain it. Tommy was a little too steady and settled. She wanted to get married, not turn into a zombie.
Only Grandma Bella seemed to understand. “Don’t listen to your father. He’s not the one marrying Tommy. You did the right thing, sweetheart. Tommy’s a nice boy, don’t get me wrong. But figlia bella, he’s not for you,” Grandma agreed with a brisk shake of her head. “You need a little…fire.”
But who was for her? What faceless stranger would step out of the shadows to inspire that head-over-heels feeling she was holding out for? That breathless rush that reminds a person that life is more than going to work, eating dinner and watching the six-o’clock news? The pure elation and connection of two minds and souls that can fill you with absolute joy?
Who was that man, who would share this adventure with her, Stephanie wondered as she gazed out her office window.
It certainly was not Matt Harding.
If she felt he was taking some personal notice of her today, that was merely her overactive imagination. Matt Harding did not look at a woman like her twice. Not when he had the “flavor of the week” supermodels lined up as his Saturday night dates, she reminded herself. All she had to do was open the New York society pages to get dashed with cold water, washing away any misconceptions she might have about his interest in her. Not to mention the hotel grapevine, always ripe for the picking with rumors about her sexy boss’s exploits.
There were other rumors too, a sad story about his past. How he’d married his college sweetheart, but she’d broken his heart. According to the gossip, she’d not only left him for another man, but also somehow walked away with the savings he’d planned to use to start his business. He’d been spurned, burned and left with nothing. Somehow, he’d managed to survive those hard times and build his business anyway. But she suspected the scars from that episode went deep. Which might explain his apparent aversion to serious relationships.
But it was not for her to analyze or judge Matt Harding. She wished she didn’t think of him at all. He seemed content with his life and happy on his romantic merry-go-round. I probably make no more impression on him than a new piece of office furniture, Stephanie thought glumly.
So why did he get so personal today? Maybe he was merely curious, she reasoned. It didn’t mean anything at all.
Even if he was feeling some tiny spark of attraction, she couldn’t dare encourage it. That would be a total and complete disaster. She was in a very vulnerable state right now. She couldn’t let her guard down.
She glanced out her office windows at an extraordinary view of Central Park and the uptown skyline, which sparkled with points of light. The moon hung low in a smoky blue sky. Perfectly round and shimmering like a silver coin. Well, maybe that explained it. Nana Bella always warned her about the romantic powers of the full moon, Stephanie thought, smiling to herself.
Perhaps her domineering, gorgeous-but-grouchy boss was not immune to the spell?
Far below, she could see the sidewalks crowded with fast-walking, fast-talking New Yorkers, hurrying home to start their weekend or to meet friends…or meet a date somewhere special. Taxis darted in and out of traffic, and alongside the park entrance, horse-drawn carriages lined up, waiting to take passengers on a romantic moonlit ride.
It was a perfect night to be out in the city. But she had nowhere special to go, no one to meet. It was just as well that she worked late, Stephanie decided. Less time to feel lonely. She wouldn’t even bother trying to find another manager. Why ruin someone else’s plans, when she had none?
A dash of lipstick and a quick smoothing out of her sedate hairstyle, and she was ready to oversee the journalists’ big banquet. Who knows, she mused, as she walked toward the elevators, maybe some dashing international correspondent will sweep me away on his magic trench coat.
Like Nana Bella always said, “When you wake up in the morning, honey, you never know what’s going to happen. So make sure you always wear nice underwear, sweetheart. Okay?”
Chapter Two
Matt turned the key and let himself in his front door. A penthouse suite atop the hotel, the luxury apartment was a laughably short commute.
He strolled across the onyx floor of the foyer and into the sweeping living room. He kicked off his shoes, slipped off his suit jacket and yanked off his tie. Then he fixed himself a drink, the usual, bourbon with a splash of soda. Already past seven, he noticed. Not much time left to get ready for his date. The buff-colored leather couch, covered with large suede and Kilim tapestry pillows, looked tempting and he longed to sit back and put his feet up. But Jenna would read him the riot act if he was late. She had pull at the trendiest restaurants and hated to miss out on a good table. A table where she could see all and be seen by all.
At times, she seemed to have no greater joy in life than finding her blurry photograph in the gossip pages of the morning newspaper. Not his style at all, though so far, he humored her. He’d never courted publicity and actively avoided it. Though the paparazzi always seemed to find him a worthy subject, he couldn’t quite understand
