New York City
Mike lived on the top floor of a brownstone overlooking Gramercy Park. The graceful five-storey house had been built for a family in 1835 when Samuel Ruggles was developing the park. The gas lamp installed then still burned at the doorway.
Allison rang the bell again and again but there was no response. She knew he was there. She could see the lights burning up there through the windows.
She rang again. Nothing. She knew what he was doing. He was sitting up there, all pious and right, wondering how he could have loved someone who consorted with a snake, as he had called Peter Collins. How could he have allowed himself to care for her, someone who would blow off a date with him for something as inconsequential as a business meeting?
She rang the bell again, getting angrier by the minute. All those things he said to her about understanding how Lydia’s Closet was more than a way to make money, how he knew it was a tribute to her late mother. They were just words. How could he have pretended to love her when, at the first mis-step, he turned and ran?
She was determined to let him know just how she felt and no locked door was going to stop her. She hadn’t spent her whole life with police officers without learning a trick or two.
With the help of a credit card and a small tool on her Swiss Army knife, she was in the lobby, in the elevator and at his front door in less than two minutes. That lock was more complicated. It took three minutes.
She tore through the apartment looking for him. ‘Michael Dennison, I want to talk to you!’ She was shouting. ‘How could you care so little for me that, at the first sign of trouble, you turn and run? So much for “I’ll love you forever!” So much for “I’ll never leave you! I swear!”’
‘Allison, what are you doing here?’
She whirled around, her violet eyes blazing. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call! I’m sorry I got caught up in the launch of the business I have worked my whole life to build. But how could you be so self-involved, so consumed with your hatred of Peter Collins that you’ll not even answer my calls, open the door to a woman you profess to love?’
‘Can I offer you a drink?’ Mike asked, a smile in his voice.
Allison stopped mid-rant as she registered the man standing in front of her. Mike was dripping wet, obviously just out of the shower and wearing only a towel.
She stared. The sight of his nearly naked body kindled feelings that did not go well with her current state of mind. He looked like Michelangelo’s David just after a downpour of rain.
When she could speak, and it took a moment, she said, ‘What are you doing? If you think …’ She stopped as reality began to creep through the haze of anger.
‘Why don’t you help yourself to a glass of wine while I get some clothes on,’ Mike said, his eyes twinkling.
‘No!’ She startled herself with her outburst. ‘I mean …’ She stopped. ‘I don’t know what I mean. You didn’t answer the door because—’
‘I was in the shower,’ he cut in.
‘Yes. I can see that.’
They stared at one another, both trying to sort through a myriad of feelings coursing through their bodies. Finally, Mike spoke. ‘How was the meeting?’
‘Long.’
‘I figured.’
‘So, you weren’t—’
‘Mad? No, I wasn’t,’ he interrupted again.
‘You understood?’
‘That it was business?’ Mike said. ‘You’re about to launch something you’ve spent your whole life planning. Naturally, I understood that.’
Allison’s cheeks were aflame. If she could have, she would have run out of the door. But then, this beautiful, muscular, still-damp body was in her way.
‘I’m … I don’t know what I am,’ she mumbled.
‘Crazy? Nut job? One who jumps to conclusions without the facts? Pick one.’
‘All of the above,’ Allison said. ‘By the way, you’re beautiful.’
‘Thanks. You’re not bad yourself.’
‘Thanks,’ Allison said, a catch in her throat.
The two stood gazing at one another, filled with longing. Then she was in his arms and he was kissing her, softly at first, then with growing passion.
His towel slid to the floor, followed immediately by the clothes Allison was wearing. One by one they dropped off until they were both naked.
Mike took a step back and looked at every part of her.
Allison did the same.
Then without a word, he picked her up and headed for the bedroom.
‘Remind me,’ Mike said, his voice husky with desire, ‘never to change the locks.’