Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“It’s because it’s been in so many movies.”
Maybe that’s why it seems so familiar. Or maybe New York is just familiar to me.
We make our way down the steps to the bottom.
“Do you have any coins?” Darcy asks, shoving her hand into her jeans’ pockets. “I’m not sure I do.”
“You want to throw one in?”
“Yeah,” she says. “We need to make a wish.”
“Is this one of those kinds of fountains?” I ask.
She laughs. “Isn’t any fountain one of those kinds of fountains?”
I pull out my wallet. I’ve had to make sure I keep change on me because of the New York tips. The British have a horrible reputation for tipping here, so I’ve made sure I’ve always had cash on me.
I have mostly dollar bills, but shoved into the corner are two quarters.
“Here,” I say, presenting her with one. “One each.”
“What are we wishing for?” she asks.
Deacon instantly springs to mind. But I can’t wish for Deacon. We don’t make sense together. When we’re with each other, we make perfect sense. He’s thoughtful and a good listener. He’s sensitive but dominant. And I’m so into him it’s embarrassing. But if I pull back and consider how we’d ever work out, that’s when everything falls apart. Nothing works. He’s obsessed with keeping everything steady and the same for Willow. I’m heading back to England. Nothing stacks up
“I have no idea,” I say.
“What do you want more than anything?” she asks.
I turn so my back’s facing the fountain and I close my eyes. I’m going to wish for the same thing I’ve wished for since I was a little girl—a family.
And the picture in my mind is teaching Deacon how to braid Willow’s hair. I try to swap them out for something else, but my imagination just won’t let me. In the end, I toss the coin over my shoulder, Deacon’s face studiously taking in my instructions.
My wishes never come true anyway.
“What did you wish for?” Darcy asks.
“I can’t tell you, can I? Or it won’t come true.”
She rolls her eyes, turns around, and throws the coin over her shoulder. “I’m wishing William doesn’t break his other arm while I’m away.”
I laugh, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch an ice cream seller. “Let’s get some sugar.”
When we have our ice creams, we keep wandering the paths of the park. Darcy catches me up with their housekeeper’s, Mrs. McBee’s, latest health scare. She had to have a hip replacement last year, and just got called back after she had a mammogram. It turned out to be nothing.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” she says.
“I know,” I reply.
“You seem different,” Darcy blurts. “Like super-relaxed or something. Isn’t New York meant to turn everyone into a hothead?”
“I never heard that.”
“Yeah, they’re all barking and yelling at each other when I see it on television.”
I laugh. “But you’ve been coming to New York for years. You know it’s not like that.”
“It is like that. A little bit.”
“Avril and Poppy aren’t like that.”
“I’d like to meet them. They sound lovely.”
“They are. I can imagine being friends with them, even though I’m older than them.”
“Not by much,” Darcy says.
“Thirty-six feels old,” I say. But it’s not because I feel old exactly. More that I expected to be in a different place to the one I am now. I thought my life would look a lot like Darcy’s, except without the stately home and the horses.
“Maybe that’s why you’re relaxed. Or maybe it’s got something to do with this guy you’ve been seeing.”
“Deacon,” I say again. He’s not just some random guy. He’s…he’s my guy. Or at least that’s how I see him.
“Do I get to meet him?” she asks. “I get the feeling things are a little more serious than you’re letting on.”
I lick my ice cream. “You’re only here for the weekend.”
“What’s he doing today?”
“We’re not…he’s at work and then going home to his daughter.”
“Tomorrow?” she asks.
“Tomorrow we’re getting glam and going to celebrate your brother being forty.”
“The duke is forty,” she says. “I can’t believe it. Forty is…I mean, you can’t be still figuring shit out at that age, right? You’ve got to have it together.”
“That gives me four years,” I say on a laugh.
She pauses. “There are a lot of English guys going tomorrow night. I made Scarlett show me the guest list. You never know, your charming prince might be there. And if he’s English, that means I won’t lose you to New York.”
“Perfect. I’ll make a note in my diary that I’m finding my Prince Charming tomorrow night.”
She laughs. “It’s good to be positive. I think it’s called manifestation or something.”
If manifestation was a thing, I would have found my man by now. Maybe I have and my manifestation malfunctioned partway through and made everything too difficult.
TWENTY-NINE
Deacon
I’m not a black-tie kinda guy. But I seem to wear them an awful lot. Saturday night, I’d much prefer to be hanging out with my daughter, but given the CEO of ABC Inc. is going to be there tonight, plus I didn’t leave until Willow was in bed, means I’m fiddling with my bow tie on my way up to the Mandarin Oriental.