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“Sam?” Becky barely choked out his name.
“At your service.”
“You’re the Hanukkah Elf?”
“I am.”
“Oh, my God!” Her breath caught in her throat.
The lights went down, and she sat back, still staring at him. He opened his hand and rested it on the arm of the seat. She slid hers into his and he closed his fingers around it. Becky’s heart took flight. She swore she’d need a seatbelt to keep from floating to the ceiling.
Sam Golden had been the Hanukkah Elf all along. She should have known. But what about Maryann? She’d have to find out at intermission. The rumors must have been wrong because Sam wouldn’t cheat. She leaned closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his large hand and the gentle pressure of his fingers.
The scent of his aftershave wafted toward her. God, he smelled good. The orchestra finished the overture and the curtain went up. They separated hands to applaud but joined them again.
“You’re not angry, are you?” he leaned over to whisper.
She shook her head. With his lips so close, she couldn’t resist. She turned to him and brushed hers against his.
“Get a room. This is the ballet!” Someone behind them hissed.
Sam chuckled quietly and moved back. There was just enough light to see his eyes gleam. He took her hand once again and they nestled into their seats to enjoy the performance.
Becky hit emotional overload and couldn’t stop grinning. Imagine, Sam Golden, holding her hand, buying her gifts, and taking her to the ballet. Could this be real?
The pressure from his hand kept her aware of his presence. Tingles shot down her spine and landed in certain places making her shift in her seat. Her jumping pulse destroyed her ability to concentrate on the dancing. She let the music wash over her and her mind wander to where things might go with Sam.
Suddenly the curtain came down—intermission. She turned to face him.
“How about dessert and coffee after?”
“Great. I have so many questions.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said, chuckling.
“You pulled this off. I never suspected you.”
“That was the idea. Of course, I had help from Trevor and Carson.”
“What?”
“Yeah. They agreed to do whatever they could to make you think it was them.”
She punched his upper arm lightly. “You bum!”
“And it worked. You thought it was them, didn’t you?”
“My lips are sealed.”
He pushed to his feet and stretched his arms high above his head. “Let’s move a little.”
She rose next to him but teetered a bit on her heels. Sam took her elbow. “Thanks. I have one question.”
“Shoot.”
“What about Maryann?”
“What about her?”
“The rumor is you two are about to get engaged.”
He laughed. “Never happen.”
“But you spend so much time with her.”
“We’re just friends. She’s had a personal problem she needed my help with. I can’t discuss it because it’s private. But believe me, there’s no dating happening.”
Becky sighed. Damn, he was free and interested in her.
“I’ve wanted to ask you out for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“You were so focused on work. I didn’t think you saw me as anything but a friend.”
Now it was her turn to laugh.
“What’s funny?” he asked.
“I’ve had such a crush on you for forever. Oops. Shouldn’t admit it, should I?”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him before he bent down to kiss her. His lips were soft and warm against hers. She melted into him, pressing against his chest. Sam tightened his grip on her, holding her fast.
When they broke, the lights flashed. They returned to their seats, resumed holding hands and snuggled closer. After the performance, which got five curtain calls, Sam ushered her outside and down a side street to a little French Café in the West 70s. They took a quiet little table in the corner.
Sam ordered a pot of Earl Grey tea and a plate of assorted pastries. Suddenly hungry, Becky picked up a mini éclair.
“I have to thank you for being my Hanukkah Elf.”
He smiled and poured the hot beverage into two cups.
“You saved the holiday, the whole week. I was so upset about my mother...”
“How’s she doing?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. My brother, Joe, called tonight. Mom’s responding to the antibiotic. Looks like she might be home on Monday.”
“Great! She’ll be there for the last night of Hanukkah.”
“Right. I guess Hanukkah isn’t totally cancelled.”
“Definitely a positive way to look at it.” Sam took a sip and selected a small Napoleon. “I never know how to eat these things.”
“They’re supposed to be messy. I owe you a lot. Your gifts kept my spirits up.”
“That was the idea.”
She slid her hand over his. “I’ve never had anybody care about me like that. Except my family.”
“You should.”
Becky couldn’t stop staring into Sam’s eyes.
“I have two more Hanukkah gifts for you.”
“Really? You’ve done enough, Sam.”
He put his finger over her lips. “I think you’ll change your mind when you hear these.”
She nodded.
“First, I want to drive you to the airport.”
“But my plane leaves at seven in the morning!”
“So we’ll leave at four thirty. Won’t be any traffic then.”
She shook her head. “You’re amazing.”
“And the second gift is, I want to drive you home when you get back. I’ll be in Jersey anyway. You’re going in and out of Newark, right?”
“I am.”
“I’ll drop you at the airport and head to my parent’s place. And leave from there to pick you up.”
“That is so awesome. You don’t have to.”
“What will you do if I don’t? Take the bus.”
“Probably.”
“It takes forever.”
Becky could hardly believe her ears. “Why me?”
He laughed. “Are you kidding? First, you’re the smartest girl in the office. Second, you’re the prettiest, too. Did I say you were smart?”
“You did.” She sensed a blush stealing into her cheeks.
“You’re the nicest girl I’ve ever gone out with.”
“Me? Dirty rat Becky?”
“You’re no dirty rat.”
“I can be tough.”
“So can I. But I’d rather not.” He leaned in for a kiss. “How about dinner tomorrow night?”
“I’d love to.”
“Great. Pick you up at six?”
“Perfect.”
After they finished the pastries, Sam hailed a taxi and took her home. He opened the door and kissed her goodnight, then returned to the cab. Becky floated up to her apartment. She lit the candles in her menorah and said the prayer.
Her roommates had already left for the holiday, so she had the place to herself. She put the song Sway on her phone and got undressed. As she peeked out the window at the families across the way preparing for their celebrations, a feeling of warmth stole through her. Soon, she’d be with her family. Then she’d come back to Sam. Who knew where that would go?
Climbing into bed, she uttered a prayer of gratitude. Too excited to sleep, her mind generated a few ideas for Gordon Albright’s book. The promotion she’d been busting her hump to get appeared to be within reach. If she focused and worked hard enough, she could turn that dream into a reality.
What about Sam? Was he the one? Their friendship had developed organically over the past year. He had encouraged her not to give up, but put on blinders instead, and work toward her goal. Liking had grown into more in the past few months as their bond deepened. Remembering the touch of his hand sent tingles through her.
Had the time come to take their relationship to the next level? As she pondered her options, exhaustion took over and she was soon asleep.
* * * *
SATURDAY MORNING, BECKY slept in until eight, then headed for Barnes & Noble to hunt up gifts for her family. There would be two more days to light the lights. Determined to have some celebration with her father and brothers, she bought two presents for each—one real and one gag gift, plus a few for her mother.
Her father be damned. Hanukkah hadn’t been cancelled, just postponed, sort of, or shortened. They had two days left to celebrate. She’d hoped her mother would be well enough to join them.
With the afternoon free, Becky folded clothes and packed her suitcase, tucking small, wrapped packages into the valise. Upon closing it, she took a break for a cup of tea. Listening to The Nutcracker Suite, she relived her date with Sam. Joy flowed through her as she recalled the feeling of his hand on hers. Sitting close in the cab, he’d kissed her, deeply. Though aroused, Becky had held back, afraid to let her emotions run rampant—still not trusting he reciprocated her feelings. She tingled at the memory.
Her cell jarred her back to the present. It was Sam.
“Hey, I had an idea. About getting to the airport.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it might be better if you stayed at my place tonight. I’ll sleep on the sofa. I mean if we have to leave at four-thirty, we could catch a little more sleep if we were both in the same place. Know what I mean?”
Becky chewed her lip. Trust him? Don’t trust him? Trust yourself? Don’t trust yourself?
“Beck?”
“Okay. You’re right it makes sense.”
“So, bring your stuff. I’ll pick you up in the car and we can load your suitcase in before dinner.”
She smiled at the relief in his voice.
“Great. See you at six.”
“Right.”
He hung up. Becky put her feet up on the coffee table and cranked up the music. The Waltz of the Flowers was playing. Excitement traveled through her body. Spending the night in Sam’s apartment created a dilemma. Did she want to sleep with him or not? Of course, she did. But so soon? Would he think less of her? Becky shook her head to banish the old-fashioned notion.
Sam had known her, not well, perhaps, but for a year. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. Gradually, lunches with Sam had become more frequent. She recalled the first time they’d shared a table. It had been in March, during the start of a snowstorm. She’d only been at Homes and Ralph for four months.
The falling snow had grown more intense as the thermometer dropped. The cafeteria had been packed with people not willing to brave the miserable weather. Becky had gone down late, about twenty after twelve, holding her little lunch bag. Every seat had been taken, except one.
When she eyed the empty chair opposite Sam Golden, she’d swallowed and decided to return to her cubicle. He’d looked up at her right before she turned toward the door.
“Have a seat,” he’d said, as casually as if they had been bosom buddies for years. “Come on. Don’t be shy. If you eat at your desk, you’ll get crumbs all over your computer.” He’d risen and pulled out the chair. Becky had plopped down.
Sam extended his hand. “I’m Sam Golden. Production Manager.”
“Becky Cohen. Lowly admin assistant,” she’d replied, taking his hand.
His had been warm and strong and much larger than hers. Even then, upon first meeting, his touch had caused a reaction. Once the ice had been broken, Becky’s shyness around him melted away. She never missed a bad weather day in the cafeteria. It had almost become an unspoken agreement to meet there if the wind howled or rain flooded the sidewalk.
She sighed. Nope, Sam Golden wasn’t an acquaintance, he qualified as a friend. They had discussed everything from politics to growing up Jewish. She’d always wondered if he’d ever ask her out, and now that he had, was she ready? Damn right she was.
She rummaged through her closet and found a bag her parents had bought her to carry her laptop. She unplugged the machine and put it in. Then she fished a satin teddy and matching tap pants from her top drawer. After folding them, she slid them in the bag, along with some toilet articles, a pair of leggings and a long T-shirt to wear on the plane.
She had time for a brief nap, a shower, then dressing for dinner. Sam pulled up in front of the fire hydrant near her building. Becky joined him. He popped the trunk, lifted her luggage inside, and opened the door for her.
Becky slid across the leather seat. Sam drove a silver Rav 4, not a showy sports car, but definitely a man’s car. He joined her and put the vehicle in gear.
“We’re going to a little French place I like, near the theater district. You like French food?”
“Mais oui, Monsieur.” And her father had said studying French wasn’t practical. What did he know?
Sam chuckled, shot her a sly grin and replied. “Touché.”
“French was one of my favorite classes in college.”
“Juniata College, right?”
“You have a good memory.”
“In the boonies in Pennsylvania.”
“An excellent memory.”
“Is that why you came to New York?”
“One of my reasons. It was small. I felt choked. And the publishing industry is here.”
“Of course.”
He pulled into a parking lot and handed the attendant the key. With a hand on her lower back, he guided her into Chez Louis, a small, elegant French Bistro. The walls were a smoky teal blue, the tablecloths cream colored. There was a tiny vase holding two perfect pink roses. The crystal wine glasses gleamed in the soft lighting as did the fleur-de-lis patterned silverware.
Becky translated the menu for Sam. He ordered the wine the waiter recommended—a glass for each.
“If I have to get up at four, I shouldn’t drink too much tonight,” she said, half to Sam, but more to herself.
He nodded. “You must be excited about going home.”
“I am. Mom is coming home Monday morning. I’ll have a day to get the house ready.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“Are you kidding? My two brothers and my father have been there for a week on their own. The place is probably a disaster area. That would stress my mom out. She’d run around picking things up and cleaning. Then probably end up back in the hospital.”
“You’re a good daughter.”
“I feel so guilty being here instead of there. Not just missing Hanukkah but not cooking for my dad.”
“And your brothers?”
“They share an apartment downtown, but I think they moved back in with Dad after Mom got sick.”
“You have a nice family.”
“Thanks. I’m lucky.”
“Me, too.”
The wine arrived and they placed their orders. While they chatted, Sam slipped his hand over hers. Once again, his touch ignited a fire. Becky sublimated her sexual desire into an appetite for food. The waiter brought trout almandine and potatoes au gratin for her and seared hangar steak for Sam.
She dug into her meal as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. When she finished, she buttered a piece of French bread, and wolfed that down.
“Are you still hungry?” he asked.
Oh, yes, she was, but not for food. The candlelight sent shadows across the planes of his face. His nose, slightly long was straight, leading to a sensuous mouth. His eyes glowed in the candlelight. Shadow darkened the color of the scruff on his face. While he talked, she studied him. Handsome in an unconventional, masculine way, his looks appealed to her. He dressed well, wearing a navy sports jacket and gray pants. His blue-and-gold striped tie set off his white shirt pressed to perfection. But the best part about Sam was the broad, warm smile. Every time he shined it on her, she melted.
After dinner, they headed to his place. Because the rest of the world was on their way to their holiday destinations already, they found parking on the street in front of his building. He held the door. Expectations kicked up her nerves. When he unlocked the door, anticipation mixed with shyness made her stumble over the threshold. Sam caught her elbow.
“You okay?”
“I didn’t drink that much. Just a little nervous, I guess.” She collapsed onto the sofa. Sam put her small bag down by the coffee table. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to jump you or anything.”
“Oh? Too bad. I was looking forward to it.” A sly smile graced her lips.
When Sam burst out laughing, the tension evaporated like mist in the August sun. He joined her on the sofa and launched a steamy make-out session. Pushing away, Becky drew a deep breath and glanced at her watch.
“It’s eight thirty. If we’re going to leave early, maybe we’d better go to bed.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Sam said, loosening his tie.
This time it was Becky’s turn to laugh. She picked up her bag and disappeared into the bedroom. She undressed and slid the slinky teddy and tap pants on. Then she scooted into the bathroom to wash up.
By the time she came out, Sam had already stripped down to his boxers and was spreading a blanket over the sofa. Becky stood at the archway that separated the living room from the hallway and cleared her throat.
When he turned around, she swallowed, seeing him bare-chested for the first time. Sam had talked about working out on the weekends, but she’d never imagined his body would look quite so buff. His chest appeared firm, partially covered by light brown hair that led from slightly bulging pecs down to his trim waist.
“Holy Hell. Do you actually sleep in that?” he asked.
The heat from his gaze practically melted the skimpy material barely covering her body.
“Sometimes,” she squeaked out. She stretched out her arm, her palm facing him. “Come.”
A quizzical look shot across his face. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. Hell, yes, never been more damn sure of anything in my life.
Two seconds later, he was by her side. “You look awesome. Are you completely sure about this?”
“I am.”
“I don’t want to rush you.”
“We’ve known each other for a year.”
“When you put it that way.” He took her in his arms, lowering his mouth to hers. Sam backed them into the bedroom and shut the door with his foot.