"Looks like it."
Jay clapped his hands together."That's perfect."
She raised an eyebrow."Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"No, it's just that… well, I wanted to wait and surprise you."He reached inside his jacket and pulled a folded sheet of newsprint into view.He held it to his forehead with a grin.
"Claire Jordan.Nancy Chen.And me," he announced, a touch too loud.
"What are you doing?"she asked, glancing around to see if anyone heard.
"Carnac the Magnificent.From the old Johnny Carson show, remember?Just play along."He cleared his throat and repeated his words with the folded paper still resting against his forehead."Claire Jordan.Nancy Chen.And me.”
She shook her head."I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"Three people who will be in the Big Apple at the exact same time."He pushed the paper in her direction.
Claire unfolded and examined the page—an article about the famed pianist's final tour performance in New York City.
"Wait.You got tickets to Nancy Chen?In New York?”she asked, her face glowing with excitement.
“Backstage passes too.Had the package shipped to Rob’s house.”Jay waggled his brows.“Interested?”
"Are you kidding?”Claire’s eyes sparkled.“It’s my fangirl dream."
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
CLAIRE
Claire leaned an ear against the door of Jay’s apartment.A minute passed without response, and she knocked again.After a couple of loud raps, the door swung open.He stood wearing an oven mitt.
"Buona sera," he said with a bow.
"Good evening to you," she replied with a smile.
Her arms found his waist, and she pulled him close.They shared a deep kiss, filled with the same desire that had them questioning their collective resolve from the previous weekend.After a moment he pulled away, a look of welcomed surprise on his face.
"You know, it's customary to have dessertafterdinner,” he said, pulling her inside and closing the door.
"I was only following orders."She pointed to the red apron he wore, bearing the phraseKiss the Cookin large white letters across it.
"How are you at making salad?"he asked.
"Haven't burned one yet."
"You'll find everything you need in the fridge.I'm just gonna finish up the sauce and the bread and then we should be good to go."
She dispensed with her shoes and her Monday frame-of-mind.Standing beside him while chopping a host of fresh vegetables had somehow become one of the most pleasurable experiences of her life.He made her laugh with a silly Italian accent.Delighted her by juggling Roma tomatoes.Melted her with little kisses on the back of her neck as they moved in unison around his kitchen.Just before plating, Jay tossed his apron on the counter and wrapped his arms around her.He untied her apron, his lips on her neck as he completed the task.Carefully, he pulled it over her head and tossed it beside his.
"Very slick, Mr.Avery,” she said.
“Yes, but I’m terrible with the hooks on a bra.”
“I doubt that very much.”
He offered to set the table, but she preferred the bar in his kitchen.Side-by-side on barstools, they enjoyed a delicious, homemade meal by candlelight.The bottle of wine disappeared as they shared more stories of their childhood.Claire learned more about Rob, touched by their lifelong friendship.The two men were more like brothers.Comparing notes, they couldn’t wait to get Rob in the same room with Harry and Hamish.
After dinner, they moved to the danger zone: the James Bond sofa.The nervous flutters returned.Claire eyed the coffee table.No sign of a wedding ring, thankfully.Still, she sent up a silent prayer.Please don’t let tonight be a repeat of before.
