“Abby, I would never—”
But I had basically lived with him for two years. I knew his track record. The man was as distractible and restless as they came. And three months was a long time.
“Just...promise me...”
All the automatic defenses and explanations died on his tongue, as he closed his mouth and stared at me across the table. For a second, he looked almost sad. Then his face sobered to look as serious and solemn as I’d ever seen.
“I promise.”
We held each other’s gaze for a moment, before I looked away—nodding curtly.
“Good. Uh, next thing...” I trailed off, thinking on the fly and feeling a bit strange to be giving him orders when it was usually the other way around. “I want to split amicably.”
“You know, Abby,” his eyes twinkled teasingly, “we actually need to get together before you can try to break up with me.”
“Are you making jokes?” I raised my voice threateningly, but beneath it all, I was relieved. This whole night had spun off the rails to such a drastic degree—we needed a little levity if we were going to find our way through it. “When I’m doing you this massive favor?”
His dimples flashed as he bit his lip—trying to hide a smile.
“No ma’am.”
The old woman behind the counter swooned at the very sight, and I shook my head with a rueful grin. “When the time comes, we’ll just say that things fizzled out. Part as friends.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I will, of course, remain your publicist when this is all finished.”
“Of course.”
“My team will handle things for me back uptown.”
“Whatever you like.”
“And I want a new espresso maker for the office.”
There was a sudden pause in the quick back and forth. Then Nick threw back his head and started laughing. It echoed brightly through the little shop, bouncing off corners, and making everyone who heard it smile as well.
“So that’s what you think you’re worth, huh?” His eyes sparkled with unrestrained merriment as they stared back into mine. “One espresso maker?”
I cocked my head sweetly to the side.
“No, darling—that’s what I think you’re worth. That’s my price for dating you.”
He laughed again, tossing back his messy hair as he twirled his empty cup.
“Well sweetheart, I’ve never had to pay for someone’s company. But in your case, I think I can make an exception. The espresso maker’s yours.”
Score! I could picture my entire staff cheering at once.
My face glowed in triumph, but I hid it quickly behind my hair. In spite of all my reservations, a strange feeling of excitement had started stirring in my stomach. An anticipation I didn’t fully understand, and trusted even less.
“Well, then I think that’s it,” I concluded in my best professional voice. “We can fly back to New York in the morning, and work out the strategy on the plane. My best guess would be to say that we’d always harbored some kind of feelings, and they blossomed on this trip to—”
“Hang on,” he lifted a finger in the air between us, “I have a few conditions myself.”
I paused in surprise, wondering what in the world could be going through that head of his. This was his idea. He was the one asking me. Now he had conditions?
“You do?” I asked in open astonishment. “What are you—”