“The night before your wedding, at a small piano bar in the hotel in Indianapolis, I happened to go outside to the fire pits and saw the most beautiful woman—”
“Wait,” Duncan interrupts, talking to Kimbra, “...the most beautiful...I thought you spent that night at your parents’?”
Shana and I laugh as Kimbra slaps his chest. “I love you. Now, shut up and let Trevor talk. I just adore stories with happy endings.”
My gaze meets Shana’s as she begins to speak.
“The ending isn’t set, but right now, we want to see where this takes us.”
I clear my throat. “Well, the strangest thing happened with that beautiful woman; I was instantly…” I think of the right word. “...smitten.”
“Smitten?” Shana asks.
Duncan smiles as Kimbra bounces and says, “See, I told you!”
Two hours later, the four of us are laughing and talking as we finish the remainder of dessert. “Damn,” I say, “Kimbra, my brother definitely doesn’t deserve you. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re also an amazing cook.”
Her cheeks grow pink. “Confession time.”
“What?”
“The chicken Marsala was mine and being from Indiana, I make a killer green-bean casserole; however, the cannoli, not so much. They came from that great little bakery on Mulberry Street.” She turns to Shana. “I had Duncan go pick them up for you.”
“Oh shit,” Shana says as she begins to giggle and her face drops a little. “You’re a bitch.”
“But you love me.”
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Duncan looks to Shana. “Kimbra said that you like cannoli, and she wasn’t sure when the last time was that you had really good New York cannoli.”
I can’t figure out what’s happening. All I know is that now both Shana and Kimbra are laughing.
“Am I the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on?” I ask.
“No, bro, I’m pretty clueless.” Duncan speaks to Shana. “Don’t you like cannoli?”
Shana’s voice is all strained from laughing as if she’s gasping to breathe. “I love cannoli as much as the next woman. Right, Kimbra?”
“I definitely love cannoli, the bigger the better.” She lifts her wine glass to her lips before adding, “I especially love the cream filling.”
It’s then that Duncan’s hands go into the air. “Seriously? Are you kidding me? You sent me to a bakery across town to get edible penises?”
I spit a little as I look down at my empty plate. “Shit and you let us sit here and eat them?”
Kimbra’s entire face is almost as red as her hair because she’s laughing so hard. “I wanted Duncan to get them yesterday. You know, so they wouldn’t be as fresh.”
“So they’d be hard,” Shana adds, almost choking on her laughs.
My lady isn’t the only one who’s laughing. All four of us are cracking up.
Finally, I stand. “I’m getting some water. Would anyone else like some water to wash away the cannoli?”
Duncan raises his hand as the two women look at each other and break into another fit of laughter.
“Hey,” Kimbra calls as I make my way toward the kitchen. “Spitting is for quitters.”
When the night finally comes to an end, we stand near the elevator as Kimbra hugs Shana.
“I know the future is unwritten, but I just want you to know that the two of you have our full support.”
Duncan nods.
Kimbra goes on, “And if you, Trevor Willis, hurt my friend, I will hunt you down.”
Duncan nods again, this time chuckling to himself.
“Yes,” I say, “I’ve been warned.” I reach for Shana’s hand. “All I can promise is that I will do my best to not let that happen.”
Duncan’s hand lands on my shoulder. “That’s good. I don’t want to be the one to tell Mom and Dad that my wife made me an only child.”
Kimbra crosses her arms over her chest. “But I would do it.”
As I hug her goodbye, I whisper, “You’re kind of scary.”
“Don’t forget that,” she replies as she kisses my cheek.
When the elevator doors close, Shana leans toward me. “I got the feeling you weren’t looking forward to that.”
“I wasn’t, but I think it was the best time I’ve had with my brother in…well, in a long time.” I reach for her hand. “Now, my lady, shall we discuss Italian pastries?”
Her cheeks fill with pink before she leans in and kisses my cheek. “How about I go back to my place tonight and maybe we can meet for dessert tomorrow night?”
“As long as I can accompany you to your hotel.” Before Shana responds, I add, “Only to the door, my lady. I can’t let you ride across town alone.”
“I think I’m…”
I shake my head. “You’re capable. I just want to be sure you don’t share a drink with anyone at the piano bar. You know, there are some men out there who may try to take advantage of you.”
“I guess that means that I found the right man.” She tilts her head. “But maybe soon, he’ll decide that taking advantage wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
“Oh, he already has given that some thought.”
“Good.”
Chapter Seventeen
Shana
Monday evening, Stephen and I walk out of Saks and onto busy Fifth Avenue as the traffic picks up its pace. In New York City that means the volume increases as the speed decreases. Across the street, tourists as well as employees buzz in and out of Rockefeller Center. The city is filled with electricity, yet the traffic and iconic buildings are merely blips on my already-full radar. I’m thinking, instead, about the ongoing discussions I’ve been having most of the day up on the tenth floor of this famous store.
According to Vicky and others in our meetings, the sales from the fashion show were even better than the earlier emails indicated. Nevertheless, fashion headlines are still mentioning the change in models. What I’d hoped would go virtually unnoticed is trending with the following hashtags: #mysterymodelmayhemwhoisthatgirl #sakssexysub and #sakssecretmysterymodel.
It wasn’t mayhem. It was orchestrated and constructed. That’s what I spent a better part of today reminding myself—and others.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Stephen says as we take a moment to enjoy the warm breeze.
I don’t want to think about it anymore. I’ve been the good and strong salesperson through it all. Now with just the two of us, the emotion that has been building all day is boiling just below the surface and if I talk about it, I may break down. “I’d say that it’s probably too late for that advice.”
“Nine more days,” Stephen reminds me. “We have nine more working days here before the final decision is set to be made. I say we make the most of it. I say we enjoy the city.”
“I’m sorry…I thought I told you that I have plans for tonight.”
He waves his hand. “Oh, boss lady, you did. And even though I could get my feelings hurt that you’re leaving me again…”