grasped the handle of Gina’s rolling bag and pulled it behind her as she followed Gina to the door. “You haven’t forgotten that I’m going to Sully’s for a couple of days and won’t be here to pick you up when you return?”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“So how are you going to get home?”
“I’ll grab a cab.”
Zoie bit back a smile as she stepped out into the hall. “You know, you could ask Case to pick you up. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
Gina huffed a breath. “I’d walk first.”
Two
Gina’s drive home from the airport following her trip to New York was slow, due to the snow that had begun to fall a few hours earlier. But she didn’t mind the delay. It wasn’t as if she had anyone waiting for her at home. Not even Zoie. Besides, she loved snow.
Pressing her face against the side window, she watched the flakes drift down from a dark, leaden sky. As a young girl, she remembered standing outside with her face tipped up and her mouth open, trying to catch snowflakes as they fell. Her mother had always teased her, saying she looked like a baby bird begging to be fed.
She smiled sadly at the memory. She missed her mother. Missed the late night talks they used to have, the mornings spent curled up on the sofa in the sunroom, her head in her mother’s lap. She closed her eyes, remembering the feel of her mother’s fingers combing through her hair, the sound of her soft laughter as Gina entertained her with the stories she’d made up as a young girl.
You should write these stories down before you forget them. You might want to publish them someday.
“I did, Mama,” she whispered to her reflection on the glass.
“What was that, ma’am?”
She turned from the window to find the taxi driver looking at her in the rearview mirror. Embarrassed, she averted her gaze. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud.”
“Almost there,” he announced. “And none too soon. They’re saying we might get a foot or more before morning.”
She glanced out the window again and smiled. “The kids will love it. Snowball fights. Building snowmen. They’ll have a blast.”
He looked at her in the rearview mirror. “You got kids?”
“Me?” she asked in surprise, then sputtered a laugh. “No. I’m not married.”
He gave his head a woeful shake. “Don’t need a marriage license to have kids. Not nowadays. Folks have gone plumb crazy, thinking a single person can raise a child alone. Takes two, I say,” he said, with a decisive jerk of his chin. “A mother and a father.”
Gina turned her face to the window again, thinking of her own family. The absentee father and the desperate-to-please mother.
Sometimes even two aren’t enough, she thought sadly.
“Here we are,” he said. “Want me to let you off out front or would you rather I take you to the parking garage?”
“Front is fine.”
While the driver collected her suitcase from the trunk, Gina counted out the fare from her wallet, then slipped the straps of her purse and briefcase over her shoulder and climbed out. A snowflake landed on the end of her nose, making her laugh.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, as she handed the driver the fare. “You be careful out tonight.”
He tipped his hat. “Same to you, ma’am.”
Taking the handle of her rolling bag, Gina turned for her building, pulling the bag behind her. Lights glowed from behind the double front doors’ leaded glass windows and spilled over onto the snow that had collected on the front steps.
“Welcome home.”
She stumbled a step at the greeting, losing her grip on the handle of her rolling bag, and whirled to find a man stepping from the shadows at the corner of her building. With his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold and a watch cap pulled low over his brow, he looked like a mugger. Although muggings were rare in her neighborhood, they weren’t unheard of. Fearing she was about to become the next victim, she glanced down the street, praying the taxi driver was still within hearing range. But the vehicle was already two blocks away, too far for the driver to hear if she were to scream.
“How was your trip?”
Recognizing the voice of her would-be attacker, she whipped her head back around.
“Case?” she said in disbelief. Sagging weakly, she pressed a hand against her heart to still its panicked beating. “Good grief. You scared a year off my life.”
He dragged the cap from his head. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intent.”
Feeling foolish for mistaking him for a mugger, she hitched her purse higher on her shoulder. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I came to welcome you home from your trip.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “How did you know I was out of town?”
“One of your neighbors told me. Zoie, I believe was her name. When the florist called to tell me they were unable to deliver the flowers I sent, I became concerned. Thought I’d better check and make sure you were all right. Zoie was leaving as I arrived and she told me you’d gone to New York on a business trip.”
Gina made a mental note to tell Zoie to mind her own business in the future. “As you can see, I’m fine.”
He gave her a slow look up and down, a lazy smile chipping at one corner of his mouth. “Better than fine, I’d say.”
She stiffened her spine, refusing to fall for a line as obvious as that. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s been an exhausting day.” She stooped to retrieve her rolling bag, but Case was quicker.
He righted the bag, then bowed slightly, opening a hand in invitation. “Lead the way.”
She squared her shoulders and stood her ground. “I’m more than capable of carrying my own bag.”
“I’m sure you are,” he said amiably. “But my mother would roll over in her grave if she knew I’d stood by and allowed a woman to carry her own bags.”
She hesitated, not wanting his assistance, then huffed a breath and marched for the front door, leaving him to follow. After quickly dealing with the security code, she thrust out her hand for her bag.
He angled his body to block her and nodded toward the door. “Ladies first.”
Setting her jaw, she strode inside and straight for the elevator. “This really isn’t necessary,” she said irritably.
“Indulge me.”
She shot him a frown, as the elevator door opened, then rolled
