Eva hoped Lucas wasn’t going to throw it down the elevator shaft.
Tiredness descended on her. It had been a long day. She’d get up early and decorate the tree, but right now she was going to take a shower, write her blog and update the Urban Genie social media accounts.
She chose the larger of the two spare rooms, and took a moment to admire the view. No matter where you were standing, this apartment was all about the view. It rendered paintings, or any other type of wall hanging, obsolete, because nothing could compete with the magical cityscape that lay beyond the expanse of glass.
She’d expected the bedrooms to have the same impersonal feel as the rest of his apartment, but that wasn’t the case.
Two large lamps drenched the room in muted golden light and a soft, velvety throw flowed over the oversize bed and pooled on the hardwood floor. It invited the occupier to snuggle down and admire the winter white of New York City while cocooned in comfort.
Eva sank onto the edge of the bed.
She’d told herself that she was staying because it was her job and because she didn’t want to leave Lucas alone, but she knew she wasn’t being entirely honest. She was at least partly staying because she didn’t want to be alone. What did it say about her that she’d rather spend the night in a stranger’s apartment than back home in her own?
It said that she needed to do something about her life. She needed to make an effort to get out and meet people.
She sighed and sprawled on the bed, drawn to the comfort of the soft, velvety cover. It was a dark moss green, the same color as the forest floor.
When she and her grandmother had first moved to New York they’d lived in an apartment with no outdoor space and every weekend they’d worked side by side in the tiny kitchen and made a picnic. They’d packed it up and taken it to Central Park, always to the same spot. Not Sheep Meadow or the Great Lawn, but to the Great Hill in the northern part of the park where they’d eat at one of the picnic tables, surrounded by majestic elms. They’d watched people playing lawn games, dodged Frisbees and occasionally listened to jazz concerts while the sun faded.
Eva pulled the throw closer, snuggling deep into its comforting folds.
She felt as if she’d lost her anchor. Her security. Even having wonderful friends didn’t stop her feeling empty inside and horribly alone.
Sliding off the bed, she unpacked her clothes from her bag, took a shower in the luxurious en suite bathroom and changed into pajamas. They were a soft peach silk, an extravagant treat bought a few months before to celebrate the first six months of Urban Genie. She’d been with Paige, on one of their trips to Bloomingdale’s. Paige had bought two dresses and a smart jacket, all suitable for business meetings. Eva had chosen pajamas.
It hadn’t mattered that no one was going to see them except her; wearing them made her feel good.
She updated her blog, answered messages on Facebook and Twitter and then tried to sleep.
It was just over three weeks until Christmas, and this would be her second Christmas without her grandmother.
In the last few years of her life her grandmother had lived in an assisted living community in Brooklyn, not far from the brownstone Eva shared with her friends. Eva had visited regularly, sometimes cooking with her grandmother as they’d done when she was young.
If her grandmother had still been alive they would have been baking Christmas treats for the other residents and the staff about now, including her grandmother’s favorite nurse Annie Cooper.
Every year Eva had helped decorate her grandmother’s small apartment, and also the communal areas including the light-filled Garden Room that had views over the water. She’d gotten to know the staff well, and many of the other residents. There was Betty, whose only daughter lived in California. Betty had been a dancer, and she still liked to dance as long as her arthritis allowed. And then there was Tom who had grown up in Maine, not far from her grandmother, and spent his time painting watercolors, several of which had hung in her grandmother’s living room.
Every Christmas, Eva had joined them for their Christmas party. It was something her grandmother used to talk about for months.
Restless, Eva glanced at her phone. It was three in the morning. The loneliest time. It was a time she’d seen almost every day since her grandmother had died. She hated the nights, when her mind raced wildly down paths that were banned during daylight hours.
Giving up on sleep, she wandered out of her bedroom, pausing as darkness engulfed her.
Retrieving her phone from the bedroom, she used the flashlight and made her way along the darkened corridor that led to the staircase.
Noticing that Lucas’s office door was open a crack, she paused.
“You shouldn’t creep around,” a deep voice said, “or I might think you’re a housebreaker and use you as an excuse to practice my jujitsu again.”
Eva jumped. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I was giving you a warning that I was here.”
“Putting a light on might have been a better option. Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“Why aren’t you asleep?” He flicked on a lamp and the room was illuminated by a soft light.
He was sprawled on the sofa. There was a bottle of whiskey next to him and his laptop was open on the table. His gaze moved over her slowly, and she wished she’d grabbed a robe. Knowing the way his mind worked, he’d probably think her silk pajamas were part of a master plan cooked up by her and his grandmother.