“Romano’s Sicilian Restaurant, Brooklyn?”
“Best pizza anywhere in New York City. It’s owned by my friend’s mother and on Christmas Day Maria cooks for everyone who shows up. I help her in the kitchen. I’m a cook, although most of the time now we’re running big events and I’m outsourcing to external companies and vendors.” Too much information, she thought, and gestured toward the card. “If you’re free on Christmas Day, you should join us, Albert.”
He stared at the card in his hand. “You just met me five minutes ago. Why would you invite me?”
“Because you saved me from landing on my butt, and because it’s Christmas. No one should be alone at Christmas.” Alone. There it was again. That word. It seemed to creep in everywhere. “I’m not going to hole myself away totally either. As soon as the snow eases enough for me to see my hand in front of my face, I’m going to pop across to Central Park and build a snowman the size of the Empire State Building. The Empire State Snowman. And speaking of giant structures, I have a tree being delivered later. Hopefully it will arrive before the blizzard stops everything. You’re going to think I stole the one from outside Rockefeller Center, but I assure you I didn’t.”
“It’s big?”
“The guy lives in the penthouse. The penthouse needs a big tree. I just hope we’ll be able to get it up there.”
“Leave it to me.” He frowned. “You’re sure you shouldn’t be getting home to your family while you can?”
His words poked at the bruise she’d been trying to ignore.
“I’ll be fine right here, safe and warm. Thanks, Albert. You’re my hero.”
She walked toward the elevator, trying not to think about everyone in New York going home to their families. Home to warmth, laughter, conversation, hugs…
Everyone except her.
She had no one.
Not a single living relative. She had friends, of course, great friends, but for some reason that didn’t ease the ache.
Alone.
Why was the feeling always magnified at Christmas?
The elevator rose through the building in smooth silence and the doors slid open.
Lucas Blade’s apartment was straight ahead and she let herself in, thanked the two men who’d delivered all her bags and packages and carefully locked the door behind her.
She turned, and was instantly mesmerized by the spectacular view visible through the floor-to-ceiling glass that made up one entire wall of the apartment.
She didn’t bother putting on lights. Instead, she toed off her boots to avoid trailing snow through the apartment and walked in her socks to the window.
Whatever else he had, Lucas Blade had taste and style.
He also had underfloor heating, and she felt the luxurious warmth steal through the thick wool of her socks and slowly thaw her numbed feet.
She stared at the soaring skyline, letting the cold and the last of the snowflakes melt away.
Far beneath her she could see the trail of lights on Fifth Avenue as a few bold cabs made what was probably their final journey through Manhattan. Soon the roads would be closed. Travel would be impossible, or at least unwise. New York, the city that never slept, would finally be forced to take a rest.
The snow fell past the window, big fat flakes that drifted and swirled, before settling lazily on the already deep layer that blanketed the city.
Eva hugged herself, staring out across the silvery-white expanse of Central Park.
It was New York at its dreamy, wintry best. Why Lucas Blade felt the need to go on retreat to write, she had no idea. If she owned this place she’d never leave it.
But maybe he needed to leave it.
He was grieving, wasn’t he? He’d lost his beloved wife three years ago at Christmas. His grandmother had told her how much it had changed him. And why wouldn’t it? He’d lost the love of his life. His soul mate.
Eva leaned her head against the glass. Her chest ached for him.
Her friends told her she was too sensitive, but she’d come to accept that it was just the way she was. Other people watched the news and managed to stay detached. Eva felt everything deeply, and she felt Lucas’s pain even though she’d never even met him.