Читать книгу A Bachelor At The Wedding - Kate Little, Kate Little - Страница 7

She was so lovely. Beautiful, really.

He hadn’t realized it at first. But now the thought ran through his head every time he looked at her. Some men might not notice her. Some might even find her plain. But some men didn’t have his taste and experience when it came to women.

She wasn’t the flashy type. Not this one, Matt Harding mused. Stephanie Rossi possessed a more subtle, richer kind of beauty. Genuine and unadorned. One that worked on a man. Got under his skin. Into his blood.

He ought to know. If half of what the gossip columnists in this town reported was true, he was one of the city’s richest and most eligible bachelors, and changed beautiful partners as easily as he changed his custom-made suits. While the legend was exaggerated—as legends often are—Matt knew the womanizer image was well earned.

Stephanie Rossi had worked with him nearly a month now. He fully expected that, by now, he’d be accustomed to her looks, and immune to her appeal. But in fact, as the days passed, the affliction had only grown worse. Especially when she flashed that brilliant, heart-stopping smile. A smile that penetrated deep into his soul.

He hated when she was nice to him or seemed on the verge of letting down her guard. That made it so much harder. Sometimes he found himself purposely gruff to keep her at arm’s length. Or maybe growling was just a way of venting pent-up frustrations.

Three weeks on the job and she must think I’m an ogre, a horror. A total…jackass. No help for it. Let her think what she will. He knew he had no choice but to play the role of the tough, impossible-to-please boss.

Luckily, she didn’t smile or relax around him all that much. She certainly hadn’t tried to take advantage of her very advantageous opportunity, working side by side with the hotel chain’s owner. He knew some women would try to exploit the opportunity. Offering more than their professional talents. But not Stephanie Rossi. He’d wager that she didn’t have a conniving bone in her body. The very shapely, tempting body that it was.

She was all business. Professional and impersonal—or at least, trying to make that impression.

Efficient and sharp, but also graced with rare skills for soothing a disgruntled employee or a dissatisfied guest. An invaluable talent in any business setting, but especially a hotel.

When her name was first put forward as the temporary replacement for his personal assistant, Matt had balked. It was sexist of him, but he preferred a male assistant, one he could bellow at when the mood struck without having to manage a tearful outburst, or some other variety of female hysteria. Besides, he knew Stephanie Rossi had only been in her job at the Harding Plaza as an assistant manager in the operations department for barely a month. Even if she was the Wonder Girl her boss claimed, Matt didn’t see how she could come to the executive suite after such a short time. But finally—very doubtful it would work out—he’d agreed to try her for a week.

From day one, she’d been cool and competent—and for a girl born and bred in Brooklyn—a class act all the way. He tested her, even unfairly. But she’d handled the challenges admirably. She was certainly not the chattering, flailing female he’d expected. Far from it. She was so quiet, sometimes he hardly knew she was there. Well, he was always subtly aware of her presence—like a low-frequency vibration—even when she was off in her own office, a thick wall between them.

He’d been thinking about promoting her permanently to the head office. With her brains and management skills, she’d be a great asset to him. He had no doubt.

Just as often he had the impulse to send her packing, back to her regular job in operations. He knew by now that his attraction to her wasn’t wearing off as he’d expected. Quite the opposite. It was growing by the hour, building up speed and momentum. Like a boulder bouncing down a mountainside. Threatening to start an avalanche any minute now.

His regular assistant, Jerry Fields, was out on a medical leave and might not return to work for at least three months. Matt didn’t think he could last, working side by side with Stephanie all that time. After only a week, he was about to blow some crucial male fuse. Every time she gave him that small, inscrutable Mona Lisa smile, he had half a mind to jump her bones.

Impossible, of course. For one thing, he had an ironclad rule about romancing employees. He simply didn’t do it.

Stephanie Rossi was not the first to challenge his vow. Though no woman so far had ever tested his will-power as intensely. And she wasn’t even trying. But Matt was determined. He wouldn’t break down and give in. Not even for this girl, this very rare find. This dark-haired jewel.

Still, he couldn’t help watching her while she sat nearby, completely focused on her work, unaware of his secret scrutiny. Seated in an armchair across from his desk, her lovely features set in an expression of deep concentration, she reviewed a weekly summary of the hotel’s activity. He had a copy of the same report and should have been studying it, too. But his thoughts kept straying, his gaze kept wandering, feasting on the mere sight of her, though he could never get his fill.

He loved the color of her hair. In the late afternoon light that streamed through the large windows behind his desk, her smooth, dark mane was a rich shade of coffee, shimmering with red lights. So far, he’d only seen her wear it in this simple, conservative style, pulled back from her face and twisted in a loose knot just above her nape. A prim, professional look that suited her manner.

He imagined how it would look undone, falling down her back and across her shoulders in a silky cascade. How far would it reach? It looked quite long, rolled up in that complicated twist. It would certainly fall below her shoulders. Her bare shoulders, Matt decided. Her skin was flawless, smooth and fair, and the small pearl earrings she wore perfectly matched the radiant quality of her complexion.

His gaze slowly followed her profile, her high cheekbones, long, straight nose and wide, sensual mouth. Her thick lashes now shadowed her large dark eyes. Eyes that reflected warmth, intelligence and a touching innocence that Matt thought amazing to find in this city. A quality that unraveled him at times.

If it was true that eyes were the windows of the soul, then Stephanie Rossi possessed a beautiful spirit. Not that she was without a sense of humor. At times, she’d surprised him with her witty comebacks, sharp one-liners that effectively put him in line. Normally, he didn’t take any back talk from subordinates. But he did from her, her comments turning his moods into something more…reasonable.

She suddenly looked up at him, curiosity reflected in her shimmering gaze. A faint blush rose in her cheeks. She’d caught him looking at her and she felt self-conscious. He felt self-conscious, too. An unfamiliar reaction. He forced himself to maintain a blank expression.

“Looks like there’s been a small downturn in occupancy this week,” she said.

“Yes, I noticed.” He flipped a page on the report, not really aware of what he was reading.

She glanced at some notes she’d made in the margin of the page. “Gross receipts in room revenue and food service will be off about eight percent this week. But we should make up the difference quickly. There are two weddings booked for the weekend, big society affairs. We’ll have some overflow guests, I’m sure. And the International Association of Journalists is winding up their convention tonight with a banquet in the main ballroom. We’ve already scheduled extra staff at the front desk to get the conference attendees checked out quickly tomorrow.”

Matt nodded, his expression revealing neither approval nor disapproval. Secretly, he marveled at her ability to evaluate this thick package in moments. She also had a fantastic memory for detail. She knew what was happening on-site at any given moment and could anticipate the most improbable glitch. He already trusted her to watch over the daily events, freeing him to attend to larger issues.

Once again, Stephanie had it covered. Their meeting should be over. Yet, he couldn’t quite manage to excuse her. Once he did, she’d be gone. Out of his sight for two entire days. How would he distract himself for the entire weekend, waiting to see her again?

Oh, yes, he had a date. Scheduled to start later this evening, it would probably melt over into Saturday night as well, moving from the city to his house in East Hampton. Matt felt a muscle in his jaw tighten as he pretended to review the report once more. He tried to picture the woman he was presently dating—a stunning entertainment reporter, Jenna Malone. But he couldn’t quite keep the sexy blonde’s face in his mind’s eye….

He noticed Stephanie discreetly check her watch. It was almost six. Late to be kept working on a Friday night. Maybe she had a date, too? The thought of her rushing off to meet some boyfriend—some undeserving, immature punk, he was sure—irritated him. Though he knew he had no right whatsoever.

“Who’ll be on-site tonight for the conference banquet? Tom Daley?” he asked brusquely, naming the head of the banquet department.

“No, I don’t think Tom’s around tonight. His younger boy, Scott, is in a school play.”

Leave it to Stephanie to learn such a small, personal detail. He’d known Daley for five years and could hardly recall that the man had children. She not only knew the kid’s name, but probably knew the name of play and Scott’s role in it.

Matt ran his hand carelessly through his thick, dark hair. He rose abruptly from his chair and walked around to the front of his desk, where Stephanie sat. He sensed her watching him, waiting to see what he would do next. He sensed her tension. Yet she sat totally composed. She wasn’t afraid of him, he realized. She already knew his bark was worse than his bite. Especially where she was concerned.

“Well, someone ought to hang around tonight. Reporters are notorious gossips. We don’t want them bad-mouthing Harding Hotels from here to Timbuktu.”

“Good point. I’ll find someone from Food and Beverage to stand by.” She glanced at her watch again. “It’s late. I’d better get to work on that. Anything else?”

She suddenly rose from her seat and looked up at him. She was standing quite close. Too close for comfort.

He felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach up and touch her cheek, to pull her into his arms. He breathed in the scent she wore, light but spicy and intriguing, an essence that drew him even closer. She stared directly at him; her warm dark gaze made him forget what he was about to say.

He quickly moved away and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“You should have thought of this banquet issue before, Stephanie. Now you face the problem of finding someone to cover at the last minute.”

She stood in the center of the room, standing very straight with her chin raised at an elegant, courageous tilt. She could take the heat; he’d grant her that. It wasn’t really her fault. It was Tom Daley’s. But of course, Stephanie didn’t shift the blame. She wasn’t the type.

“No problem. If I can’t find anyone from the banquet department, I’ll do it myself,” she said simply.

He pursed his lips. That wasn’t what he’d wanted at all, having her work late on a Friday night, cramping her social life…or was it? God, this woman was driving him crazy. And unlike so many others, she wasn’t even trying.

“It’s Friday night. I’m sure you have plans.”

He hadn’t meant to turn the conversation in a personal direction. The question had just slipped out. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes, I do have plans,” she admitted, slowly, “but I suppose I can…rearrange them in order to stay a bit longer.”

Meet her boyfriend later, she meant. That image was even more vexing. He moved behind his desk and sat down hard in his chair. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I don’t mind, really.”

Her gaze met his again and he felt his temperature rise. She felt it, too. He was sure of it. He could tell by the way she suddenly looked away and stared down at the carpeting, a faint flush rising on her cheeks. She had the face of a Renaissance beauty, a perfect image from a fifteenth-century masterpiece.

He swallowed hard. He had to get her out of his office. Immediately.

The beep of the intercom interrupted his thoughts. He pressed a button and curtly addressed his secretary. “Yes, what is it?”

“A call for Ms. Rossi, on line three. They said it’s an emergency.”

“For me?” Stephanie’s composed expression turned to alarm. “I can take it in my office.”

“No, go ahead—” he insisted. He handed over the phone receiver and pressed the blinking button on the console.

“Hello?” Stephanie greeted the caller. Her expression at first looked quite concerned, then within moments, relaxed and almost amused.

“Yes, Nana,” he heard her say. “No, it’s all right. He isn’t mad….” She glanced up at him, a small smile playing about her lips, as if they shared a private joke. He smiled back, feeling warm all over.

Stephanie finished the conversation quickly and handed back the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Nothing serious.” He could see that she was trying hard not to smile, but finally she couldn’t help herself. “You don’t know my family. Their idea of an emergency is running out of sun-dried tomatoes. Or maybe if one of my sisters can’t make it out to Brooklyn for Sunday dinner.”

Matt laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “You have dinner together every Sunday?”

“More or less. You could set your watch by the antipasto platter. It hits the table at one forty-five, precisely. Right after my parents get back from twelve o’clock mass.”

She was making fun of her family, but she didn’t know what it was to grow up without any feelings of warmth and belonging. His fondest memories of mealtimes were sharing dinner with the servants, down in the kitchen.

“It sounds…very nice. Very traditional.”

Stephanie sighed and smiled again. “I guess. They’re not really that bad. Medical excuses are accepted. If you have a signed note from a doctor.”

He laughed again and Stephanie joined him. “Was that your grandmother?”

She nodded. “She couldn’t reach my cell. My grandmother’s card game was canceled so I don’t have to run out to Brooklyn tonight to babysit for my sister. Nana’s going to take over. So I guess I can stay and oversee the banquet.”

Babysitting for her sister. Those were her Friday night plans. She was a nice woman…too nice for him.

“Your grandmother plays cards?”

Stephanie nodded. “Poker. Five card stud, with her ‘posse’ from the neighborhood. Every Friday night…unless there’s something hot going on at St. Anthony’s with the Golden Age Club. She just plays for pennies. She says games of chance keep your brain cells active.”

Matt smiled and caught Stephanie’s eye. “She sounds like quite a character.”

“Definitely,” Stephanie added with a rueful grin. “Maybe it’s something in the water out there. They’re all pretty nutty if you ask me.”

She tucked the report under her arm, looking ready to conclude the conversation, but he was curious to know more.

“So your family lives in Brooklyn?”

“My parents, grandmother and all four sisters, including the three who are married.”

“You have four sisters?” He smiled at the thought of four more versions of Stephanie. “Your poor father. Imagine paying for all those weddings. He must try to bribe you all to elope.”

“I understand he makes an offer that’s almost too good to refuse,” she quipped. “But so far, all my sisters have gone the traditional route. He gets a break from his cousin who owns a catering hall. My youngest sister, Angie, is getting married a few weeks from now.”

“A spring wedding. That is traditional.” Matt eyed Stephanie. He imagined her going the same route, dressed in a long gown and trailing veil. Cream-colored satin would suit her perfectly. She’d be a vision—no doubt about it.

“That’s four down, one to go,” he tallied aloud.

“I’m not in any hurry.” She shrugged. Something in her offhand tone made him think he may have offended her.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you should be,” he said.

“If only my family shared your opinion,” she confided. “My life would be a lot easier.”

“Really? Do they bother you much about it?”

“Only whenever I speak to them, or see them…or have contact of any form.”

He laughed again, but he could see it bothered her. “That’s not a very modern attitude. What about your career? They should be proud of you. You’re excellent at your job and have a great future. You’ve come a long way for someone your age. I really mean it.”

His praise pleased her. He liked bringing that bright smile to her face. It was the only compliment he’d given her all week, though he knew she deserved to hear much more.

“Thank you, Matt. That’s kind of you to say. But no one has ever accused Dominic and Francesca Rossi of harboring a modern attitude.”

Matt smiled in reply. He fiddled with a silver pen on his desktop. He should just let the conversation go and say good-night. But he was too curious to know more about her. For instance…was her romance with the accountant serious?

“What about your boyfriend? How does he feel about it?” he asked quietly.

Stephanie looked surprised again and he suddenly realized he’d given himself away, at least his knowledge about her private life. He’d asked around about her. He couldn’t help it.

“I’m not seeing anyone special right now.”

He pulled his gaze from hers and stared out the window. “Oh, you’re not? I thought you had mentioned something about a boyfriend at some point?” he said vaguely.

“I don’t think so. I just broke up with someone. It was a long relationship. We knew each other from grade school. But I don’t think I ever mentioned it….”

Her voice trailed off on a puzzled note.

He cleared his throat. “Maybe not…I guess I confused you with someone else.” He sat up in his high-backed leather chair. “Well, these things happen. Usually, it’s all for the best.”

“Yes, I’m sure of it.” Her tone was very definite, he noticed, and she didn’t look the least bit unhappy. Looked like she was the one who had ended the relationship. Even better, from his perspective.

So, the accountant was out of the picture. He felt a happy jolt and struggled to hide it. Okay, so she’s not in a relationship. She’s still off limits, pal. Just remember that.

Yet, when Matt looked up again, it was as if a huge flashing sign had popped up over her head: AVAILABLE!!! AVAILABLE!!

“Is there anything else?” Stephanie asked, completely back to business.

“I think that covers it,” he replied quickly. “See you Monday.”

He waved at her in a dismissing motion, suddenly knowing he had to get her out of his office, out of his sight. Or something would happen. Something momentarily wonderful, he was sure…but definitely regrettable in the long run.

She said good-night, then turned and walked to the door. He loved the way she moved. She was so graceful and elegant, her slim figure almost entirely camouflaged today in a sleek blue suit, a slit in the back of the straight skirt revealing a length of long, slim legs.

He heard the sound of the heavy door closing behind her and was suddenly alone in his office. He released a long harsh breath. One he had not even noticed he’d been holding.

This…thing he had about Stephanie Rossi was insane. If he didn’t watch out, he’d end up embarrassing himself…embarrassing both of them. And maybe with a lawsuit on his hands for harassment as well, he reminded himself.

He ran his hand through his hair, picking up the subtle trace of Stephanie’s perfume that still hung in the air.

He shook his head. “Harding, get a grip!”

Stephanie escaped Matthew Harding’s office on wobbly legs. She entered her own office and quickly shut the door.

Thank goodness for Nana Bella. She normally got annoyed when her family interrupted her at work with one of their crazy “emergencies,” but this time her dear grandmother had displayed perfect timing. Nana Bella always claimed to be a little psychic—as Italian grandmothers often do, just to keep their children in line—but this episode proved it.

Matt Harding unnerved her enough under normal circumstances—curtly delivering his orders, shouting his displeasure, showing no positive reaction to the many miracles she pulled off. But when he slipped into a personal mode…asking her about her family, her social life—or lack thereof—and praised her work to the sky, she couldn’t take it. She’d nearly melted into a puddle of goo, right there on the Persian rug.

What in the world had come over him? Maybe the kitchen had slipped something into his afternoon coffee, she mused.

Sometimes she hated this job. Not her real job, as assistant manager of hotel operations, which she’d started at the Harding Plaza about two months ago. She loved that job. Landing it had been a big step in her career. But this special, temporary assignment. She was never going to make it. She would lose her mind before it was all over.

Why her, of all people? She’d been so happy here at first. Then, just as she was getting her feet wet in the new spot, the buzz spread around the office: Matt Harding needed a temporary replacement for his personal assistant. For some mysterious reason, Stephanie was tapped for the assignment. She couldn’t understand it. So many others who were possible choices had been at the hotel far longer. Some of the female managers especially were more than willing—jealously wondering what Stephanie had done to deserve the honor.

But what choice did she have? She couldn’t very well refuse. Her boss had presented the call as a real perk—a chance to show off her talents to the top man.

“Do a good job for Mr. Harding and you’ll really advance in this organization,” her boss had advised her.

Stephanie had a far different view. She’d already heard the lowdown on Matt Harding. For one thing, the dynamic founder of Harding Hotels was reputed to be demanding and temperamental, totally charming one minute, then biting someone’s head off the next.

So far she’d barely glimpsed the charming side. The past few weeks had been mostly snarling, barking and a few nips here and there—or totally ignoring her. Which she found most unnerving of all.

Then there was this other problem. Matt Harding himself, an undisputable hunk. With enough masculine magnetism to light up Times Square. When her friends found out she’d been called upon to babysit “His Royal Hotness” they’d had a field day teasing her and giggling endlessly over silly, adolescent fantasies. Stephanie either ignored them, or denied that she felt any attraction.

Nobody believed her. Why would they? He was just that good-looking…or something. Stephanie could never quite figure out what it was about Matt Harding that set him apart—she just knew, whatever it was, he had plenty of it.

Yes, secretly she was attracted to him, though she’d never admit it in a million years, not even to her closest friends.

Insanely attracted.

It was insane, Stephanie often reminded herself. And pointless. Like yearning after a movie star or sports figure, some guy so distant and unattainable, he didn’t even know you were alive.

Besides, Stephanie knew by now a good relationship was more than a physical attraction. Matthew Harding had his shortcomings. To begin with, he was arrogant, a total egotist, and extremely insensitive. Not the type of man she admired and respected at all. Therefore, no problem. Right?

The kind of man she envisioned settling down with would be solid, sensitive and warm. He would share her values and background. He was not a self-centered playboy, running around with models and actresses half his age. He wanted a wife and family, a real life—and he’d want to make a real and lasting commitment.

The description of her ideal brought to mind her former fiancé, Tommy Torelli. They’d grown up in the same neighborhood of Brooklyn, homey Carroll Gardens. They’d gone to the same schools and had known each other forever. Their parents were friends and Tommy was almost like family.

Stephanie’s father had always predicted that one of his daughters would end up a Torelli. But Tommy, in his careful methodical way, took his sweet time making his choice. The summer after Stephanie graduated from college, he asked her out on a date. She’d thought he was joking at first, but when she realized he was serious, Stephanie said, “Sure, why not?”

Maybe that would have been good enough for most people—a comfortable, feet-on-solid-ground start for the same type of clearheaded romance. But it wasn’t quite good enough for Stephanie. She wanted more. Some indefinable but essential ingredient was missing. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but as time went on, she realized her so-called romance with Tommy never quite progressed beyond, “Sure, why not?”

She might be willing to date a man for that reason, and even go steady for several years. But she ultimately discovered she could not answer his mature and logical proposal of marriage by saying, “Sure, why not?”

Tommy was dear, he was sweet. He had good values, a strong character, an easygoing, pleasant personality. Their backgrounds were so similar, they could share a private joke with a mere glance. But Tommy was not the man she wanted to share her life with.

Her family was shocked and unhappy when Stephanie announced the breakup. Her parents had hoped Angie’s wedding would inspire Stephanie to set the date as well. They’d never imagined Angie’s nuptials would have just the opposite effect.

“You’re throwing away a good chance here, Stephanie,” her mother warned. “I just don’t understand you sometimes.”

Then her father chimed in, “You’re just nervous, sweetie. Everybody’s afraid to get married, believe me. Sure you like your job. It’s fine for a girl to work until the babies come. But you don’t want to end up like Aunt Lily, do you? Living alone with a bunch of cats to keep you company?”

Aunt Lily was her grandmother’s so-called spinster sister. The story was that when her fiancé died in World War II, Lily would have no other. A spinster or not, Aunt Lily had always seemed very happy and fulfilled to Stephanie. She’d been a schoolteacher and now was active in her retirement years, always traveling to exotic places on educational tours for seniors. Lily always invited Nana Bella to come along, but Stephanie’s parents always dissuaded her. Despite her father’s dire warning, Aunt Lily’s golden years didn’t look half bad to Stephanie.

Besides, women had far more choices these days. But try telling that to her well-meaning, but totally sexist, traditional father. He was hardly aware that women had the vote.

What was the use of arguing? Stephanie couldn’t explain it. Tommy was a little too steady and settled. She wanted to get married, not turn into a zombie.

Only Grandma Bella seemed to understand. “Don’t listen to your father. He’s not the one marrying Tommy. You did the right thing, sweetheart. Tommy’s a nice boy, don’t get me wrong. But figlia bella, he’s not for you,” Grandma agreed with a brisk shake of her head. “You need a little…fire.”

But who was for her? What faceless stranger would step out of the shadows to inspire that head-over-heels feeling she was holding out for? That breathless rush that reminds a person that life is more than going to work, eating dinner and watching the six-o’clock news? The pure elation and connection of two minds and souls that can fill you with absolute joy?

Who was that man, who would share this adventure with her, Stephanie wondered as she gazed out her office window.

It certainly was not Matt Harding.

If she felt he was taking some personal notice of her today, that was merely her overactive imagination. Matt Harding did not look at a woman like her twice. Not when he had the “flavor of the week” supermodels lined up as his Saturday night dates, she reminded herself. All she had to do was open the New York society pages to get dashed with cold water, washing away any misconceptions she might have about his interest in her. Not to mention the hotel grapevine, always ripe for the picking with rumors about her sexy boss’s exploits.

There were other rumors too, a sad story about his past. How he’d married his college sweetheart, but she’d broken his heart. According to the gossip, she’d not only left him for another man, but also somehow walked away with the savings he’d planned to use to start his business. He’d been spurned, burned and left with nothing. Somehow, he’d managed to survive those hard times and build his business anyway. But she suspected the scars from that episode went deep. Which might explain his apparent aversion to serious relationships.

But it was not for her to analyze or judge Matt Harding. She wished she didn’t think of him at all. He seemed content with his life and happy on his romantic merry-go-round. I probably make no more impression on him than a new piece of office furniture, Stephanie thought glumly.

So why did he get so personal today? Maybe he was merely curious, she reasoned. It didn’t mean anything at all.

Even if he was feeling some tiny spark of attraction, she couldn’t dare encourage it. That would be a total and complete disaster. She was in a very vulnerable state right now. She couldn’t let her guard down.

She glanced out her office windows at an extraordinary view of Central Park and the uptown skyline, which sparkled with points of light. The moon hung low in a smoky blue sky. Perfectly round and shimmering like a silver coin. Well, maybe that explained it. Nana Bella always warned her about the romantic powers of the full moon, Stephanie thought, smiling to herself.

Perhaps her domineering, gorgeous-but-grouchy boss was not immune to the spell?

Far below, she could see the sidewalks crowded with fast-walking, fast-talking New Yorkers, hurrying home to start their weekend or to meet friends…or meet a date somewhere special. Taxis darted in and out of traffic, and alongside the park entrance, horse-drawn carriages lined up, waiting to take passengers on a romantic moonlit ride.

It was a perfect night to be out in the city. But she had nowhere special to go, no one to meet. It was just as well that she worked late, Stephanie decided. Less time to feel lonely. She wouldn’t even bother trying to find another manager. Why ruin someone else’s plans, when she had none?

A dash of lipstick and a quick smoothing out of her sedate hairstyle, and she was ready to oversee the journalists’ big banquet. Who knows, she mused, as she walked toward the elevators, maybe some dashing international correspondent will sweep me away on his magic trench coat.

Like Nana Bella always said, “When you wake up in the morning, honey, you never know what’s going to happen. So make sure you always wear nice underwear, sweetheart. Okay?”