Page 96 of Manhattan Kiss

As I head to Washington Square Park, carrying a picnic lunch organized by my assistant, I wish I hadn’t worn a suit. Normally I always feel more productive in office attire, but today, it feels ridiculous to be wearing a suit on a date with the only woman I’ve ever had a lunchtime date with. The sky is blue apart from big, fluffy clouds here and there in the sky, like they’ve escaped their pen and they’re bolting to freedom. I should be in shorts and a t-shirt.

I haven’t slept much since Saturday night. After our awkward conversation on the dance floor, Aurora was whisked away by Darcy and I only saw her once more before I left. She wanted to spend the evening celebrating Ryder and being with her best friend, not discussing our relationship difficulties. I get it.

I’ve spent every waking hour since trying to find a solution to how I can have her and be the best father I can be. Long distance would be a challenge if we both worked nine-to-five jobs and I didn’t have Willow. But I work long hours and I’m with Willow four nights a week. I can’t add up flying to the UK on top of that. And it’s not like Aurora can come to New York and work remotely. She has the offer at Hotel on Ninth Street, but there’s a reason she didn’t tell me about it.

I hate not being able to find solutions to problems. I like to fix things, find a path through, make them perfect. But I’m struggling to see the solution to this situation with Aurora and that makes me feel weak. And I hate that.

If she was living in New York, and not just here for the summer, then there wouldn’t be any pressure. If I ignored Ryder’s word of warning, we could just date and see how things went. We could let things develop naturally. But she’s standing on a burning platform. She needs to make a choice, and soon. I don’t want her to decide to stay based on what’s going to happen or not happen between her and me, because I can’t offer her any certainty. As much as I can’t imagine Aurora not being in my life, I don’t know how she fits long term. I don’t want to give her up, but I don’t want to hurt her.

“Hey, stranger,” a voice calls from a bench.

I chuckle as Aurora smiles up from the bench I’m standing beside.

She lifts her sunglasses, her eyes glistening in the bright sunlight.

“You’re beautiful,” I say. I press a kiss to her lips and then take a seat beside her.

“The sun makes everything look good,” she says.

“You look good in the dark. I’ve seen the evidence.”

The corners of her mouth twitch and she shakes her head. “Did you bring lunch? Because I’m starving.”

I shift up the bench and dump the backpack between us. “I have no idea what’s in here, but my assistant is usually pretty good at being thrown a curveball.”

“Hold that thought. I brought a blanket. Let’s go under the trees and get some shade.”

She obviously earmarked a place for us to sit, so I follow her and help her set out the blanket.

“I feel even more ridiculous in this suit now,” I say, as I take off my jacket and sit on the blanket.

“For the record, you look anything but ridiculous in the suit.”

“Anything but ridiculous?” I say, teasing her. Why is it this easy between us? Even though we need to discuss serious things, even though I’m determined to find a way forward, it’s always so easy with Aurora.

She blushes, and I have to resist the urge to crawl over her and kiss her into next week.

“How’s Darcy?” I ask, as I pull out the food.

“She’s Darcy,” she replies. “It was good to see her for sure.” She frowns at me still bringing out packages of food. “Are you expecting more people?” she asks. “There’s a lot of food here.”

“My assistant understands that we all have to under-promise and over-deliver.”

She laughs and it lights up every cell in my body. God, her laugh is like the warmth of a fire or the light in the dark. Every place she is, she makes it better.

We unpack the parcels of food to find stuffed rolls and cold meats, cheeses and salads. There’s enough food for a dozen people. Finally, I pull out plates and cutlery and divide them between us.

“How often have you done a picnic on your lunchtime?” she asks, transferring some salad onto her plate.

“You’re bringing a lot of firsts into my life, Aurora,” I say. “And I’m better for it.”

“That’s a nice thing to say,” she replies.

“I mean it.” I pour us some old-fashioned lemonade into the paper cups that my assistant has packed.

She gives me a shy smile, but doesn’t respond.

“So you grew up with the Westburys,” I say. “That must have been…interesting.”