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“Miles?”
I jerk out of my erotic daydream at the mention of my name to see my employees staring at me in bewilderment.
“Are you with us?” Sarah questions with concern.
I clear my throat and sit upright. “Yes. Of course.”
“You’ve been sitting there with a distant look on your face and something akin to a winsome smile,” Sam points out with a tone of worry. “Is everything all right?”
Cursing myself for allowing my personal life to interfere with my business, I merely nod. “Continue.”
I drag thoughts of Giselle from my mind to listen to Sam and Sarah argue, then eventually agree on how to tackle the short. Thirty minutes later, the meeting is over.
Smiling, I push myself to my feet and walk across the room to stare out of the floor-to-ceiling window at the busy street below. My office, situated on the twentieth floor of a high-rise building, offers a lovely view of the Financial District and the Hudson River beyond.
Once more, Giselle’s soft-spoken voice and gentle smile flash through my mind. For the umpteenth time, I wonder if I’ll ever see her again. She didn’t tell me whether she was visiting or intended to live here now that she’s back in the city. I wish I had questioned her more about her private life.
Sighing, I rake my fingers through my hair before stuffing my hands into the pockets of my suit trousers. Perhaps I’m being foolish thinking about her. She has most likely forgotten about me. The chemistry between us was blatant, and I respect a woman who doesn’t shy away from what she wants. If I’m sincere with myself, it was the best sex I’ve had in a while.
I hate to think what she must be thinking about me now. Probably that it’s a regular thing for me to talk up a girl, wine and dine her, fuck her into oblivion, and leave without saying goodbye.
The image of my smiling daughter saves me from the dark thoughts.
Slowly, I shake my head. Although I had a wonderful time with Giselle, I made the right decision of severing further contact. Ashlyn is the most important person in my life, and I’ll do anything to make sure it remains that way. I do not intend to remarry. I’m committed to raising Ashlyn with the help of my parents, and that’s it.
Shortly after Gwen died, I vowed not to bring another woman into my daughter’s life. For the past five years, I haven’t dated. I’ve never introduced anyone to Ashlyn as my girlfriend, and I’m not about to start now. My little girl doesn’t need a stepmother. She has me. And I don’t want a wife. Having brief and discreet sexual encounters has worked so far.
But truthfully, it was more than sex with Giselle. She might eventually have wanted more. Something I cannot give because no one can ever take Gwen’s place.
My hands clench into fists at the memory of my sweet wife, who’d been snatched away from me by the cold hands of brain cancer. Unexpected tears burn in my eyes as I remember how she fought and lost the battle against the deadly disease. I curve my body in the direction of my desk to look at the framed portrait of her and Ashlyn. The similarity between them is uncanny. Curly blond hair, turquoise blue eyes, smiling round faces, and bubbling personalities. Gwen had been full of life. It’s a shame that all that energy was snuffed out of her when she was only thirty years old.
“Promise me you’ll always put Ashlyn first,” she demanded on her death bed. “It breaks my heart I won’t see her grow up. But I trust that you will always make her feel loved.”
Five years, and it’s still like the tragedy happened yesterday. I miss Gwen deeply. Our conversations in the mornings before we left for work. Teasing each other lovingly. Our touches and kisses.
“You know, macho dictatorial men went out with the dinosaurs,” she would say when I made a decision and wouldn’t budge from it.
I sniff and laugh softly remembering all the times she would put her foot down and insist I get down from my high horse. And now all I have left of her is Ashlyn. With each passing day, my daughter looks more and more like her mother, making my chest ache as I look at her. But I love my daughter fiercely, so much that my parents are worried that I will never find love again.
“I’m not looking for another wife,” I’d told them when they broached the topic with me last summer. “I’m fine with raising Ashlyn on my own.”
No one can ever replace Gwen.
CHAPTER4
GISELLE
“Ican’t be late on my first day at work.”
I should have taken a cab instead of embarking on the twenty-minute walk from my apartment to the Met. But it’s a lovely day with a gentle billowing breeze, the last whiffs of warmth before the city is gripped by northwesterly winds bringing cooler air from the country’s interior. Fortunately, the sun isn’t out yet in its full force. The traffic is already terrible at this time of the day anyway, with everyone rushing to work. Horns from angry drivers rend the air.
“Pardon,” I tell the couple walking slowly in front of me and raving about a neighborhood restaurant. I put it on the to-do list at the back of my mind to visit there soon. But for now, I have to get to the Met on time.
The aroma from a bakery on Third Avenue assails my nostrils, and my mouth waters. It’s another place on my bucket list, as well as the Whole Foods market a bit further up north.
When I sight the Loyola Church on Park Avenue, I breathe a sigh of relief, and my steps lessen in haste. I don’t want to look harried by the time I arrive. It’s only two more short blocks. Thankfully, my cream-colored blouse and black trousers aren’t soaked in sweat.
At last, I’m on Fifth Avenue, the museum sprawled in front of me on the border of Central Park. As I climb the grand stone staircase, I sigh in relief at having made it on time. My first day of work can’t be laced with excuses as to why I arrived late. The job of the event planner is allowing me to get my foot through the door and hopefully get noticed. Working for an iconic institution like the Met has always been my dream. I’d worked at the Louvre, but the role of a conservator has for now remained elusive.
