Chapter 15
James
“Tell me about your family.” Our fingers lightly brushed while we walked—a simple touch, yet it sent tiny goosebumps up my arm that I couldn’t ignore.
The energy between us seemed to intensify with every step we took. Every second that passed tonight made it harder to believe this was just an arrangement.
Central Park was nothing short of gorgeous at this time of year. The leaves were impossibly green, the spring blossoms popped like watercolor against the evening sky. Somehow everything seemed more vivid, like the park had tuned itself to the same frequency within me.
I’d started to second guess choosing a private cooking class with Melody Garrett as I waited for Hallie to arrive earlier.
Not because I didn’t think she’d enjoy it, I knew she would.
It felt too thoughtful. Too revealing. Like I was showing my hand when I wasn’t supposed to.
But I’d taken a chance anyway, and used my connections to ask Melody to do a class for us.
She just happened to be a friend of my mother’s, who’d been visiting her restaurants for years.
If that exposed my growing feelings for Hallie, then so be it.
This wasn’t meant to be real. She was writing her articles. I needed a good review. But somewhere between her jokes at the bar and the way she looked at me when she ate the first bite of laksa, I’d started to see Hallie in a different light.
I didn’t think she saw it that way, though. For Hallie, this was probably still just a series of interviews wrapped in dinner dates. Good content. A career move. But knowing that didn’t make it easier to resist the way I wanted to get to know her more.
“Well,” she started, as we dodged a crowd that had formed to watch a street performer play their music.
“They’re good people. They still live in my childhood home.
My dad retired last year from the United States Postal Service and spends all his free time doing DIY around the house.
I think he finished standing garden beds last week for my mom.
My mom is a math teacher at the high school I went to and is beloved by all her students.
My younger sister got married a few years ago and is pregnant with her first child.
She and her husband, Devin, live down the road from my parents. ”
I nodded, taking it in. “How did they feel when you moved to New York City?”
“They didn’t really understand it. They still don’t, really,” Hallie said, slowing as we reached the Bethesda Terrace.
I stood back and watched as she approached the fountain, her shoulders rising and falling with a thoughtful breath.
“They’re perfectly content with their lives in Terry, Ohio.
They’ve got great friends there and don’t see themselves leaving that community.
But, amazing as they are and as much as I love being at home, I’d always felt restless.
I knew there was more out there for me. I couldn’t see myself staying there for the rest of my life. ”
“So, you chased your dreams,” I said, watching her. It was admirable, moving across the country to a place where you had no family or connections. All to chase a dream. While I had followed the path of so many generations of my family before me.
She turned, her expression lightening, “I just figured why not make the big move in my twenties. I can always move back. Not that I think I will now. New York has my heart. Besides,” she added with a grin, “Ohio bagels just don’t cut it.”
God, she had a great smile.
“What about you? I don’t think you’ve talked much about your family outside of the restaurant.
” Hallie dropped down onto a bench, and I sat beside her, stretching my arm across the back.
My fingers nearly skimmed her shoulder, but I hesitated.
The impulse to touch her was almost instinctual, but I wasn’t sure if it would be welcome—or just another part of the illusion she was maintaining.
“Well,” I started, willing my voice to sound steady, “I’m an only child. My mom and dad met when they were in their early twenties. My mom comes from a finance family—big Wall Street legacy, lots of expectations. But my father grew up in Brooklyn, working for the family business.”
“How’d they meet?” she asked, completely unaware of how tightly I was wound beside her, like a thread ready to snap.
“At a bar, in Brooklyn. My mom had gone out with some friends for the evening, and they’d decided to get out of Manhattan for the night. She met my dad and, as the story goes, they hit it off instantly. But my mom’s family didn’t receive it well, initially.”
A frown creased Hallie’s face. “Why not?”
“Well, my dad didn’t come from money and my grandfather hadn’t thought that he was respectable enough for my mother. He was worried that he was after her wealth.”
Hallie shook her head, strands of her beautiful brown hair falling across her face. “That’s terrible.”
“Despite his harsh assumptions, my grandfather was just trying to protect my mom. He regretted it later on. He and my father grew to have a fond relationship before my grandfather passed.”
Hallie let out a thoughtful hum. “It’s a bit like Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it?”
“Except they ended up with a happy ending,” I said, with a smile.
As if on cue, a wave of disappointment washed over me when Hallie shifted forward, putting more space between us. My hand had been a hair’s breadth from resting on her shoulder, and the sudden distance made me feel like something was slipping through my fingers.
“Do you enjoy what you do?” She stared thoughtfully at me with her elbow propped on her bent leg and her head cradled in her hand. “Being a financial analyst, I mean? Or did you just become one because you thought you should follow in your family’s footsteps?”
I could see why she’d ask. My career path might seem predictable, especially in comparison to hers. But it wasn’t quite that simple. My parents had always made it clear I could do anything I wanted, but I still gravitated toward numbers.
During school, I’d been the typical high achiever—getting good grades, playing multiple sports, doing my fair share of extra curriculars.
But I’d spent my free time working at Rossi Pizzeria, and at one point I had thought I would become a business owner myself or even take over from my uncle and father when the time came.
It wasn’t until college when I took my first economics class that everything fell into place for me.
“I love it,” I said, my voice a little more passionate than I intended. It was true. I wanted to make a difference in finance, build something of my own. “And I hope to one day have my own firm.”
“Married to the job,” Hallie mused, leaning back again. Right into my waiting hand.
It wasn’t much of a touch—a mere brush against her back—but it felt like an electric shock, sending a jolt straight to my chest. My heart slammed against my ribs, and the awareness of her, of how close she was, made it hard to focus on anything else.
“Working in finance takes more dedication and time than the average job. I’m aware of that. But until I have someone in my life that means more to me than numbers, I’ll be dedicated to my job.”
Hallie seemed lost in thought for a moment, and I wondered if I’d said the wrong thing.
“I suppose I understand it,” she said after a beat. “Dating in the city hasn’t gone particularly well for me. So, I threw myself into writing and trying to move my career along.”
I could hear the resignation that seemed to hang around her words. Part of me understood the feeling of putting the rest of life on hold to chase a dream. But as much as I understood it, I wanted to resist that kind of isolation.
“I don’t particularly want a job that consumes every aspect of my life,” I admitted, almost too quickly.
Hallie’s shoulders stiffened under my touch, and I knew it wasn’t just the contact that was making her tense.
It was what I had said, the truth in it maybe.
I got the feeling that I’d surprised her, that the sentiment didn’t quite fit into the picture she’d painted of me before.
The sun had almost completely sunk behind the horizon, daylight slipping away from us. “I think it’s time we got you home.” As much as I didn’t want this date to end, I didn’t want to borrow more time than I was being given from Hallie.
I hailed a cab to take us to the West Village and the two of us slid inside. One question echoed around my mind as the cab rolled forward.
What are we even doing?
The excitement I got from disrupting Hallie’s dates over the past month was nothing compared to what I felt right now. My heartbeat was a full-blown marching band, banging around inside my chest as we drew nearer to Hallie’s apartment.
This was just an obligatory date. Simply part of our deal. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this . Seb’s teasing comment from last Sunday floated through my mind. It’s nice seeing you like this. Happy.
Hallie’s leg bounced up and down next to me. Was she that eager to get out of the cab? Away from me?
“So do you feel like today’s date will be enough for another article?
” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
My hand splayed out on the seat next to us, brushing against her upper thigh by accident.
That same frenzy of energy surged through me.
She glanced at me, her lower lip pulled between her teeth, like she was weighing something in her mind.
“It was amazing. I can’t wait to get home and write up the article. I think people everywhere will die at the personal touch you put into this. So, thank you for that.”
“It’s the least I can do. I’ll make sure to really step it up for our next one.”
“Right.” Hallie took a big breath before.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes! I’m fine.” Hallie turned, offering a wide smile, but her eyes betrayed a hint of something else. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again, glancing at me. “It’s just my boss has put a lot of pressure on this upcoming article.”
I gently reached out to take her hand in mine and tried my best to ignore the flames crackling inside of me. “How so?”
Hallie’s eyes searched mine, and as we neared her apartment building, she spoke again. “She was hoping for this article to really heat up.”
“Heat up?” A strange intensity filled the cab, the silence punctuated by the rhythmic tick of the meter and the driver’s occasional sharp cough.
“Like a kiss or something like that.” Hallie waved off her words, as if they were trivial, then reached for the door handle.
“But we agreed there would be no kissing. I didn’t think I’d have to worry about writing something like that into any of these articles, but my boss is full of surprises.
So, I guess this is just me warning you about a fictional kiss that I’ll have to conjure up for this week’s article. ”
The flames inside me roared even hotter, nearly boiling the blood running through my veins as Hallie gave me a sympathetic smile and slipped out of the cab.
I was frozen to my seat, paralyzed, watching her walk toward the stairs of her apartment building.
The same images I had of kissing Hallie during our first date played in my head once more.
“Well, are you going to go after her?” The cab driver’s voice snapped me out of my stupor.
The older man looked at me as if I was a total idiot through the rearview mirror, his bushy eyebrows raised as if he couldn’t believe I was letting a beautiful woman walk to her apartment door alone after a date.
To be honest, I couldn’t believe it either.
She wasn’t just beautiful—she was smart, funny, and had just told me she needed a kiss for her article.
I needed to stop second guessing myself. Hallie is not Cassidy.
“Right. Yes. Thanks.” I threw some bills in his direction and quickly climbed out after her. She was unlocking the building’s front door when I bounded up the stairs behind her.
“James? Did you forget something?” Hallie asked, glancing over her shoulder as she pulled the door open.
“I did. Forget something.” Before I could think better of it, I slid my fingers against the smooth, warm softness of her cheek, then slipped them around to the back of her neck, my fingers finding purchase in her soft hair. With one more step, I closed the space between us.
The pounding in my ears became deafening, and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing her heart or my own as I lowered my head. Just before my lips touched hers, I realized I didn’t want Hallie—I desperately needed her.
Only when her arms snaked around my neck, did I think that maybe she felt the same way.
I didn’t care that we were standing on the stoop of her apartment building for the world to see as I kissed Hallie Woods for the first time. The softness of her lips, the lingering taste of red wine on her tongue, and the sharp intake of her breath as I deepened the kiss.
I backed Hallie up against the cold, damp brick wall. My hands trailed down her sides, savoring the feel of her curves—the soft give of her skin, the gentle heat radiating from her. She was incredible .
When we finally broke apart, I looked down at her, trying to figure out if I’d taken it too far.
She was so fucking stunning it nearly hurt to step away from her. I barely registered my mind reminding me that these dates were supposed to be obligatory, that Hallie could walk away at the end of it.
She said nothing at first, but she offered a shy smile. “By the way,” Hallie said before she shut the door behind her, “when should I come by for the visit to Rossi’s? I’ve been meaning to check it out, but I wasn’t sure when to fit it in between all the articles.”
I smiled, still trying to shake off the heat of our kiss. “Whenever you’re ready. Maybe after a few dates—my family is always eager to meet anyone who’s willing to write about their pizza.”
Hallie’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll definitely make it happen. Can’t wait.” The warmth behind her eyes as she disappeared behind her apartment building door ignited a spark of hope within me.