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“After what just happened?” I asked in disbelief.
“Especially after what happened. If you avoid her, then she wins.”
Ugh, I hated that he was right. That this was exactly what Katherine wanted to happen with her threat. She wanted me to second-guess ever being in her vicinity again. She wanted the Upper East Side to herself. And though I didn’t want the Upper East Side at all…I didn’t want her to lay claim on it either. To push me out.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally said.
Though his answering smile made it seem as if I’d already committed.
“There is one place I’m definitely going with you though.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Making gingerbread houses with your sisters.”
He groaned. “They told you?”
I grinned and nodded. “Yep. So, don’t make any plans for Tuesday.”
“They are seriously insufferable.”
“You love them.”
He nodded, but his eyes were on mine. Saying that maybe, just maybe, he was falling in love with me, too.
Natalie
27
The intercom in my apartment buzzed.
“Fuck,” I grumbled under my breath. My finger hesitated over the Return key, and before I could think about it, I pressed Send. My stomach flipped, and then I dashed to the door. I pressed the button. “I’ll be right down.”
I snagged my jacket and gloves, slid into moccasins, and headed downstairs. I jogged down the three floors and found Lewis standing on the doorstep, waiting for me. He was sort of dressed down in khakis and a striped button-up. His smile lit up when he saw me coming through the door.
“I think I need a key so that I can just come up,” he said with a laugh. “You have that advantage at my place.”
“Oh yes, the advantage that you have your own elevator,” I joked as I slipped a beanie onto my head.
“It is an advantage.” He put his arm around my waist, bustled us through the cold afternoon air, and into the back of his car. “An advantage that you can come and go as you please.”
“Well, we’re never at my place anyway.”
“We could be.”
I placed a kiss on his lips. “But your place is so much better. My place is only great for writing.”
“Which I’m going to get to read eventually?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Nope. But progress! I sent in the synopsis and chapters of It’s a Matter of Opinion to Caroline. So, we’re that much closer to you reading it.”
“Or…you could just send me the proposal, and I could read it now,” he said with a cocky grin.
“Or not.”
It was probably the only thing that I hadn’t given in to with him. The only thing that I wouldn’t budge on. I knew it drove him crazy, but I didn’t care. I didn’t ask about his job stuff when he had to work late or take phone calls at random times or pick paperwork up at parties. It was all weird to me, but what the hell did I know about hedge funds? This was one of those quirks he’d just have to deal with.
He sighed. “I will wear you down.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“At least you turned it in even if you refuse to let me be involved in the process,” he pushed.
“We’ll see if she even likes it. It’s not like Gillian is going to pick up the phone tomorrow and offer me more money. This could go nowhere.”
Lewis looked me dead in the eyes. “That is never going to happen.”
I shrugged. “Imposter syndrome?”
“You’re an incredible writer. I fell in love with your writing from the first page I ever read. It’s a gift.”
“Thank you,” I said, flushing at his praise.
It was something I wasn’t used to. Even if Bet on It was still sitting pretty on the New York Times and it was doing better than I ever could have imagined, it didn’t make it any easier to see it as a success. But, when he spoke like that…sometimes, I remembered.
The car came to a stop in front of his parents’ building, thankfully ending our conversation about my books. We took the elevator up to their mansion and found Charlotte, Etta, and Nina already in the kitchen. And, similar to the last time when my eyes had expanded at the mere sight of the kitchen, now, they did it for the sheer quantity of gingerbread on every single surface in sight.
“Oh, Natalie, dear,” Nina said with a smile. Her apron was coated in flour, face smudged with it. “I’m so glad that the girls could convince you to join us.” Her eyes turned to Lewis. “No thanks to my son.”
Lewis held his hands up. “I would have invited her eventually.”
“Liar,” Etta said.
“We both know you wouldn’t have,” Charlotte agreed.
I laughed. “Well, I love gingerbread, and this sounds like a perfect Christmas tradition. So, tell me where to start.”
Nina pointed out all the various pieces and the stages of cooling. The gingerbread had to be a hundred percent cool before they could use royal icing to put them together. The girls were in the process of whipping up the icing right now. Lewis and I stacked pieces together based on the number of houses we were making, which turned out to be a dozen. Plus, there were nearly a hundred cookies still coming out of the oven for some charity event.
