One Summer In New York. Trish Wylie

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      * * *

      Ethan’s arm around Holly’s shoulder, they said goodbye to Louise and Fernando as the elevator door closed.

      Back in the apartment, Ethan clenched his fist in victory. “Success!”

      “Do you think everything went all right? I was so worried. And then I bungled up about not having spent time in New York.”

      “You recovered. Aunt Louise adored you instantly.”

      “She did?”

      “In the kitchen she told me she could tell right away that you had good character and were not out for our money or the family name.”

      “If she only knew...”

      Ethan mused on that truth.

      Together they cleared the remains of the apple crisp and cinnamon-flavored coffee. The kitchen looked as if they had just fed a hundred people. Dirty pots and pans were strewn on every available surface. The sink was stacked with plates. Spills puddled on the countertops.

      “I will pay the housekeeper triple to clean this tomorrow!” Ethan said.

      “Do you want to go out?” Holly asked.

      “Out? Right now?”

      “Yes. It’s not that late. And I’m full of nervous energy.”

      Ethan contemplated the idea. Aunt Louise had started to tire so easily the dinner had been over even earlier than expected. “Where would you like to go?”

      “Show me some of the Benton buildings in New York.”

      He whipped out his phone.

      Ten minutes later they were curbside as Leonard pulled up in the town car. It was a dry but very cold evening. Holly wore that favorite black leather jacket, and looked utterly lovable with a red beanie, scarf and gloves. Ethan didn’t bring a hat, but dressed warmly with his own brown leather jacket and wool scarf.

      Once they’d pulled away from the building Ethan recited to Leonard a quick list of addresses and the tour commenced. As usual, his driver maneuvered the car deftly through the always-present Manhattan traffic.

      Holly had had the right idea. The crisp night was invigorating.

      Or maybe she was the cause of the vigor he felt.

      She had played her part to a tee at dinner, and he was sure Aunt Louise suspected nothing of his ruse. How fragile his dearly loved aunt had looked tonight. With those bruises on her face from the tumble she’d taken—in front of employees, no less—at Benton headquarters.

      He plugged a reminder into his phone to hire an expert makeup artist for the gala.

      But a nagging complication had plagued him throughout dinner. Nothing about the evening had felt fake. Everything had come naturally. From their comfortable banter to the way he and Holly had served the food together and the electrifying kiss they’d shared while telling the story of how they met.

      Moment after moment had passed when he had almost forgotten this was a charade. Worse still, the feeling had filled him with a jarring elation and contentment.

      This was new territory and it petrified him. He’d never given serious thought to a real-life real wife, and now was not the time to start. Concentrating on moving Aunt Louise into retirement and moving the company into a more charitable direction was plenty for the foreseeable future. Plus, he had vowed long ago never to be swayed into forgetting one critical fact.

      Women were not to be trusted.

      Aunt Louise was the only exception in his life. Didn’t he know that well enough?

      All—and that meant all—the women he had ever dated had betrayed him. Society girls, daughters of noblemen and businesswomen alike. They might have approached him as a colleague. Or cozied up to him as the wholesome girl-next-door. Others had come on stronger and seduced him with sexual wiles.

      Not that he hadn’t gone along with them.

      He’d satisfied his urges. Indulged in temptations.

      Several of them quite memorable.

      Yes, maybe a few of them had made him imagine going past three dates or three weeks. But in the end they had always showed their true colors. They hadn’t been who they’d said they were. Even some of their body parts hadn’t been real. They had all been something other than what they had seemed. Out for something. A piece of him.

      And his mother—his own mother—had been the worst offender of them all. That a woman could turn her back on her own son for personal gain was a hurt he’d do well to remember for the rest of his life. Apparently women were capable of the unthinkable.

      So, even though his aunt sensed that Holly’s intentions were good, he mustn’t forget that they were performing in a play. All he could really know was that Holly was a competent actress. Instinct told him that this enchanting woman had a kind heart and honorable aims. But he’d only known her for a couple of days. She might prove herself to be just like the others. And there was plenty she could be hiding. Ethan hadn’t received the background probe from his security chief yet.

      “This is the Seventy-Fourth Street development we did about a decade ago.” He pointed out the window when they reached their first destination. “Leonard, can you pull over to the curb?”

      Lit from within, the gleaming glass tower shot upward into the night sky. Ethan leaned close to Holly, beside him in the backseat, to show off some details.

      “We did the first story with a wider base, and then the remaining twenty-nine floors in a slender tower coming up in the middle. The larger platform of the first level allows for greenery to encircle building.”

      “Is the first-story garden accessible?” Holly asked, wide-eyed.

      “Yes. It was designed so that employees in the offices can go outside into green space whenever they want.”

      Their next destination was Forty-First Street.

      “This one is over twenty-five years old. It was the last project my father worked on before he died. Here they had the issue of erecting new construction in between two buildings from the nineteen-thirties,” he explained.

      “New York is amazing like that, isn’t it?” Holly seemed to understand him.

      “You can see that we did not build right up against the buildings on either side. We created those cement walkways and benches.” He pointed. “We built our structure thinner than we might have, so that occupants in the buildings on either side could still see out of their windows.”

      Ethan was enjoying this tremendously. He was so proud of what his father, Uncle Mel and Aunt Louise had produced. He loved to visit the Benton properties that his father had helped construct. They were all he had left of his dad. Steel, glass and concrete. But they were monuments that would endure for years to come.

      They rode downtown to look at a low-rise housing development near the East River. Holly asked СКАЧАТЬ