“I'm not trying to make this difficult for you.”
“I know.”
“If you'd rather keep things professional, I will.”
She raised her eyes.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Maggie whispered, “What if I don't want to?”
Nicholas's expression changed.
He reached toward her.
Slowly.
Giving her every opportunity to step away.
She didn't.
His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek.
“Maggie.”
She closed her eyes.
Then a telephone rang.
Loudly.
They both jumped.
Nicholas looked toward his desk.
The telephone continued ringing.
Maggie burst into laughter.
He closed his eyes.
“Unbelievable.”
She covered her mouth.
“Shouldn't you answer it?”
“No.”
“It might be important.”
“Nothing has ever been less important.”
She laughed harder.
The telephone stopped.
Nicholas looked back at her.
He smiled.
“Now.”
But before he could move, the intercom buzzed.
Frances's voice filled the room.
“Mr. Sterling, your father is on line two.”
Maggie stared.
Nicholas looked toward the ceiling.
“Frances.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Has the building caught fire?”
“No, sir.”
“Then tell him I'll call him tomorrow.”
A pause.
“Very good, sir.”
The intercom clicked off.
Maggie was laughing so hard that tears had formed in her eyes.
Nicholas looked at her.
“Do you find my suffering amusing?”
“Extremely.”
He stepped closer.
“Good.”
Then, very gently, he kissed her.
It was brief.
Warm.
And so unexpectedly tender that Maggie forgot how to breathe.
When he drew back, she remained perfectly still.
Nicholas searched her face.
“Was that all right?”
She opened her eyes.
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
She looked at him.
Then whispered, “You know, for a parking meter, you're surprisingly romantic.”
He laughed.
And kissed her again.
For the next several days, Maggie walked through New York feeling as though the entire city had changed color.
The sky seemed brighter.
The streets seemed less noisy.
Even the subway delays became tolerable.
Tessa found her humming while washing dishes and immediately demanded an explanation.
Maggie refused.
Tessa examined her face.