“Together? Now?” She stared at him. “I have to clear up.”
“Leave it.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who is addicted to retail therapy, and you have a book to write.”
“I need a break. And I like hearing you talk.”
“Most people want me to talk less.”
“You have some interesting observations on the world.”
She tried not to be flattered. It was probably more of his research. “So your character is going to take a trip to Tiffany’s? Does she fall in love and get married?”
He opened his mouth and then gave a smile. “I haven’t worked out the precise details of her journey yet.”
“Well, I can tell you that a trip to Tiffany’s would be the perfect ending to any woman’s journey.”
* * *
They wrapped up warmly and strolled along Fifth Avenue, their breath clouding the freezing air. The snow had stopped and the snowplows were finally winning the battle. Snow and ice glazed the sidewalks and lay piled in mounds and New York was enveloped in an almost ethereal calm.
The windows of Tiffany & Co. were decorated for the holidays. A cobweb of
glowing lights framed the windows and the sparkle of decorations blended with the dazzle of diamonds.
Lucas watched as Eva huddled deeper into her coat and gazed at the tray of jewelry closest to the window.
Then she glanced at a woman who was doing the same thing at a different window.
After a moment the woman walked away and Eva gazed after her.
“That’s sad.”
“She was doing the same thing you’re doing. What’s sad about it?”
“She was upset. You couldn’t see that? My guess is that the love of her life broke up with her.”
“Maybe she broke up with him.”
She shook her head. “Then she wouldn’t have been staring wistfully in the window of the most romantic jewelry store in the world. She’d imagined herself coming here with him and choosing a ring.”
Dragging his gaze from Eva’s mouth, Lucas turned his head and watched the woman disappear into the darkness. “And yet you still believe in true love.”
“Why not? I can believe in true love without thinking that all relationships are perfect.”
He leaned against the wall, sheltering her from the vicious bite of the wind. “Where did you grow up?”
“Puffin Island, Maine. It’s a small island the size of a postage stamp—”
“—off the coast of Penobscot Bay. I know it. So you’re a small-town girl in a big city.”
“I suppose, although I left the small town behind a long time ago.”
He didn’t agree. She had that trusting view of humanity that came from living in a small-town community where people relied on each other.
His heroine would have the same quality, he decided. She’d arrived in the big city full of hope and then all her illusions had been shattered.
“Do you still have family on Puffin Island?” It was only because he was watching her reactions closely that he saw her breathing change.