“I remember that very clearly.”
A blush tinged my cheeks as I slid into the backseat. I’d been rather forward the last time we were alone in the back of his Mercedes. It was embarrassing, considering how sober I was now.
And just reminded me of how divergent our lives were. Of course Lewis had a driver. He enjoyed the life that he had grown up in and had no moral objections to his upbringing. I needed to silence the voice in my head that said that was a problem. He wasn’t Penn. And I didn’t want Penn.
“Where are we going?” I asked Lewis once he was inside and the car had started to move.
“It’s a surprise. I think you’ll like it.”
“I like surprises,” I admitted.
“Good. I plan to have a lot of them.” He angled his full attention to me. “Tell me about the drive up here. I still can’t believe you drove alone.”
“Oh, it was great actually. I love road trips. Amy and I went on one for three weeks one summer, all the way to LA. This was nothing compared to that. It’s the basis for one of my books.”
He contemplatively scrunched his brows together. “Have you submitted that one?”
I shook my head. “No, I was writing it before Bet on It, and I just haven’t picked it back up.”
“How can you when you’ve been so busy with the new book? Do you have a title for it yet?”
“I’m leaning toward It’s a Matter of Opinion. Because it’s all about never really knowing the truth and getting every side of the tale, except what really happened.”
“I like it.” He slid a little bit closer to me until our shoulders were touching. A shiver ran through my body. “So…when do I get to read it?”
I laughed. “Never!”
“Natalie! Come on. I’m your biggest fan.”
“That sounds so weird,” I told him, covering my face. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means, you’re a brilliant writer, and I need more of your books in my life. Send it to me. Please, I’m dying to read it.”
“No way. No one reads my books before they’re done, except my agent and editor. I’ve never let anyone look at them ahead of time. I think I’d break out in hives if I knew you were reading it.”
“It cannot be that bad.”
“It is. I swear. Amy snuck a chapter once, and I nearly vomited on her.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I think that’s all in your head.”
“Maybe, but what if I never write another word on it? Then, you’ll have a half-baked idea of my writing in your head.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “Natalie, that’s not even possible.”
“Oh, it’s totally possible. But, hopefully, not with this book since I already told my agent about it and she’s already told Gillian about it and I moved to New York to finish and sell the damn thing.”
“It’ll all work out,” he assured me. “No one at Warren wants your career to continue successfully more than I do. But I also want to think you moved here for more than one reason.”
“Oh?” I whispered.
The tension crackled between us.
His hand slid across my lap, reaching for my fingers and lacing them together. His thumb gently stroked up and down as if he were learning the feel of me. And, while my mind was completely occupied by the feel of his hand in my own—the long fingers and broad palm and the amazing softness of that hand—my eyes were locked on his.
“I like to think that you’re here because of me. That I helped you find your way back to writing while you were here. That I can help you even more now that you’re in my city.” He raised our locked hands to his lips and placed a soft kiss on my hand. “That okay with you?”
I nodded, momentarily speechless. Lewis had helped me be able to write again. And so had this city. Being in the city and close to him seemed like a perk to it all. If not the exact reason I had moved.
“Here we are, sir,” the driver said from the front seat.
Lewis winked at me and then helped me out of the car. I gasped at the sight before me. I’d heard about it, seen it on television, and imagined what it would look like basically all my life. But seeing the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree all lit up was even more amazing than I could have imagined.
Last year, I had left at the beginning of November before the tree was put up. It might make me the epitome of a tourist, but I was totally enamored by it.
“Oh my god,” I gushed. “It’s so huge!”
Lewis laughed and guided me forward. “I actually think it was bigger last year.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “I bet you’re the kind of person who says that every year.”