Begin Again

Savannah Richards didn’t believe in chance.

But there he stood, head bent, focused on his iPad. Handsome in his black uniform - black tie, white shirt, silver stripes at his wrists. A captain’s cap sitting atop his head His hair graying around the edges.

Noah wouldn’t recognize her now – even if he remembered her.

He would be forty-two now. A far cry from the college senior who had been attached to her hip for a year. He’d been a boy then, but his features were the same. A few pounds heavier, but that was to be expected. The five o’clock shadow that never failed to appear by early afternoon. The same brow that she had seen furrowed over a calculous problem seemed to have made a permanent home between his eyes. No wonder, as he had worn it often. Sometimes even as he’d studied her, though he thought she hadn’t known.

As a college senior, the only time he’d left her side was when he was flying or training to fly. Sometimes she’d gone with him to practice on the simulator. She usually ended up using the time to study her own biology textbooks or read an English lit novel. Side by side, each lost in their own world.

The time, she thought wryly, had been well spent. After her freshman year, Savannah had immersed herself in her studies and graduated top of her class with a bachelor’s degree in science.

Noah also had displayed a singular passion – aviation. And everything that went with it. Flying. Airplanes. Weather reports. When he hadn’t been engrossed in aviation, however, he’d turned that singular focus on her. The memory brought a flush to her cheeks.

And a familiar stab to her heart.

As the terminal train arrived at the station and the door opened to allow people to exit, it occurred to her that she could take six steps to the left, get in his train car, and speak to him. It was a much more logical thing to do than just watching him – letting him breeze by her.

Two ships passing in the night.

No. He was a ship from the past. She would let him go.

She was still mad at him.

Noah Worthington glared at the flight schedule displayed on his iPad and wondered if his lunch had not agreed with him. The terminal train at Atlanta airport was interminably slow. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to hurry up or to never arrive. He struggled to find a middle ground.

He was seeing an apparition. He knew it had to be a vision because the girl he recognized wore a snug red pencil skirt with matching suit jacket. Her black pumps, though, had a matching red bottom. She carried a black leather Louis Vuitton handbag in a cross-body style, freeing up her hands. He recognized the LV twist-lock on the front – its only readily identifiable feature. The silver on the handbag matched the buttons on her suit. And the gray of her camisole. Her long brunette hair fell in loose waves around her face. Her make-up was flawless down to the shiny, but muted glossy red lipstick.

The college freshman from his indelible memory wore jeans ripped at the knees, white canvas sneakers, and either a sweatshirt or t-shirt depending on the weather. She’d kept her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. The only time he’d seen her dressed up was when she wore a dark gray cardigan and matching shell with black slacks to a dinner with his family. She’d worn low heeled dark gray moto boots. He’d been impressed, at the time, at how put together and cute she looked. Her hair had fallen straight to her shoulder and though he hadn’t commented, he’d known she had taken the time to straighten it with a flat iron. Her hair was naturally wavy and thick and she hated it. Hence, the ponytail.

All in all, perhaps that was a precursor to the woman who watched him now. Or perhaps she was his mind’s rendition of the girlfriend he’d so inconsiderately left behind twenty years ago. Besides, what college freshman gained no more than a couple of pounds and in all the right places after twenty years?

The vision watched him, though she didn’t know he knew. He recognized the expression she wore.

She was still mad at him.

The train rolled in, the door opened, and throngs of people rushed out of the cars. She got into the car behind his, moving with that same lilt in her step that even he hadn’t managed to dull.

She’s only a vision. Probably some random girl from California who just happened to have similar – very similar facial features.

However, he knew the saying that one never forgot his first love to be true.

He glanced at the time on his tablet. He had time for dinner before his flight, now delayed, took off for Dallas. He didn’t feel like going to the officer’s club. Didn’t feel like talking aviation. Or hearing about someone’s new aircraft acquisition. He just wanted to enjoy some peaceful time to read his novel, order a martini he wouldn’t drink, and have a meal.

He scanned his ID and slipped into the Diner’s Club – away from the other pilots. He wasn’t exactly nondescript in his pilot’s uniform, but he’d learned over the years that the typical flyer tended to not bother the pilots. He’d never quite discerned if it was out of respect, awe, or fear. Perhaps just disinterest. Whatever it was, he’d grown to count on it when he wanted to be left alone.

He took a small table for two near the bar, his back to the room. He found it less distracting to read when he couldn’t see people hurrying to and fro.

He ordered a sandwich and water. And resumed his attention on the novel he read on his iPad. It was about a man who never slept. In theory, he liked the concept, but in reality, sleep was one of his favorite pastimes.

And allowed the world to fade into the background. Which was exactly where he preferred it these days.

“I’d like a cosmopolitan,” A woman at the bar behind him ordered. “with olives.”

Who ordered olives with their cosmopolitans?

The server said something he couldn’t understand. And the woman laughed.

Noah froze. Then in slow motion lifted his head and turned enough to see the woman in the red suit.

She had not been a vision. She was Savannah Skye Richards. His college sweetheart all grown up.

He’d recognized her, but his mind had refused to accept the reality that after twenty years, she’d be standing in front of him.

Closing his iPad, he laid it on the table and silently turned his chair around so he could watch her. He leaned back, his six-foot frame appearing relaxed – disguising the cat-like tension coursing through him.

She hadn’t spotted him yet. Her gaze was glued to her phone – her fingers typing rapidly. The years had been good to her. She’d always been pretty, but now… she was drop-dead gorgeous. There was an air about her that hadn’t been there when she was struggling in college. She carried an air of assurance and confidence now that hadn’t been there before.

Twenty years. Then twice random crossings in less than an hour. It was more than he could ignore.

She must have felt him watching her. She glanced up, typed a couple of key-strokes. Then looked up again. He could tell by the way the corners of her mouth twitched the moment his presence registered with her. With her new self-assurance, he was certain that only he could tell. He’d spent, after all, countless hours studying her. For nearly a whole year.

Their gazes locked. He smiled. God, but it was good to see her.

Déjà vu was an understatement.

He’d been working registration his senior year. She was a freshman. Her first day on campus at Auburn University in Auburn, Alabama. He’d taken one look at her and fallen head over heels.

This time, however, instead of smiling, she was looking… displeased to see him.

He stood up, closed the distance between them, and sat at the bar next to her. “What brings you to this gin joint?” he said.

“Work,” she said, clicking off her iPhone.

“It’s been awhile,” he said.

“Twenty years,” she said, as the server set her cosmopolitan in front of her. She picked it up. Sipped.

“What are the odds?” he asked.

“I don’t believe in chance.” She kept her eyes focused on her drink.

“I guess a date at the casino is out.”

She scoffed. “A date is out.”

“Savannah Skye,” he said.

“Savannah,” she corrected.

He rubbed his chin. “Savannah. Look at me,” She lifted her eyes and he saw a glimpse of the pain before she checked it.

“It’s been twenty years since we saw each other. Let’s at least say hello.”

“Hello,” she said.

“That’s better.”

She scowled again. “You started it.”

He shook his head. “You’re right. I did. I’m sorry. I was caught off guard.”

She smiled, albeit a little wobbly. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve seen you twice in one day. That can’t be coincidence.”

“I agree,” he said. “You look good. You look like I imagined.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You imagined me.”

He chuckled. “On occasion, yes.”

“You’re married,” she pointed out, nodding toward his ring finger.

He glanced down. Saw the line on his ring finger, no more than a shadow to most. She always had been observant. “Divorced. Separated actually.”

“Right,” she said, looking at him askance. “Aren’t you all?”

“What?”

She shrugged.

“It seems you’ve been hanging around the wrong crowd.”

“Is that so? When’s your divorce hearing date?”

“I don’t know.”

She rolled her eyes. Sipped her drink.

“Seriously. It’s uncontested. I’m not even sure we have to go.”

She glanced at him. Unlocked her phone.

“Ok. Here,” he said, taking his own phone out of his pocket. “Let’s call Matthew. Let’s call my attorney.”

“Let’s don’t.”

“Why are you so interested in my marital state?”

“Ok, let’s say for now I believe you.”

“No, really, why are you?”

Her gaze met his now. She chuckled. “You’ve already asked me out.”

“I most certainly did not.”

“The casino,” she said, locking her phone again.

He shook his head, “It’s a figure of speech. When did you become so literal?”

She leaned back. Sighed. “After being hit on about five hundred times.”

“Admirable,” he said, “I can see the attraction.”

She laughed. “Not like that. As part of my job.”

He considered her in a different light now. Her clothes were much too fine for a stripper. Definitely not a prostitute.

“You’re an escort?”

She sighed. “I see you never developed a filter.”

He shrugged. “Some things never change.”

“I’m not a call girl.” She glared at him. “Or a prostitute. So don’t get any ideas.”

“I think you’re about twenty-one years late on that request.”

“Yeah, well, you’re married now.”

“Separated.”

“Same thing.”

“You’re difficult. I’m impressed. What about you?”

He’d yet to get a glimpse of her ring finger. Truthfully, he’d been too enthralled to even think to look.

She held up her unadorned hand.

“Divorced?”

“Never married.”

“Are you telling me that you never…” He trailed off. This conversation was completely unfair. He had no way to know what damage he’d done to her all those years ago.

“I work a lot.”

He nodded. Self-sufficient. Successful. Hence the air of confidence. “What kind of work?”

“I’m a drug rep.”

“Really?” Not at all what he expected.

“You may recall I was a science major.”

“I do recall. And I’m sure you excelled.”

“You could say that.”

He smiled to himself. She had that slightly pouty expression that had always worked on him.

“I’m a pilot,” he said, before he could stop himself.

She laughed. A genuine laugh now. Her green eyes twinkled with sincerity.

And it was in that moment. Just like that, that the years fell away and he was that college senior all over again. In love with the freshman coed.

“I never would have guessed.”

“Did the uniform give me away?”

“That and the unerring devotion you put toward achieving that goal.”

He sat a little taller in his chair. “You’re successful at this drug rep thing you do,” he said.

She tilted her head with a little smile. “I suppose. Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re good at everything you do and…” he lifted one eyebrow suggestively. “You have a way of making a man do whatever it is you want.”

She shook her head. The smile disappeared back into the little pout. “That seems a little odd coming from you.” A silent message appeared on her phone. She checked it and pushed her unfinished drink aside.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

She had managed to do it again. She had mesmerized him and he had no idea what she was talking about. “Sorry about what?”

“I have to go.”

“Go?” He checked his watch. Such a short time had passed since he’d come into the club… yet his life, it seemed, had been altered forever.

The girl he had spent twenty years wondering about. Twenty years with a love in his heart that hadn’t died.

And here she was. In the flesh.

“Yes,” she said, with the flash of a smile at the corner of her lips. “I have a flight to catch.” She stood up.

“Of course you do.” Why else would she be here? For a mere moment in time, he’d allowed himself to think that she was there in his world just for him. Just for him and no one else.

She stood up. Pushed her chair to the bar. “It was good to see you again, Noah,” she said, her lips curved in a polite smile no doubt used successfully when working with doctors.

“It was good to see you, too,” he said, automatically.

She held out her hand.

He took her hand, but didn’t shake it as she had obviously intended, but held it. Stared into those mesmerizing green eyes. She pulled back almost imperceptibly. He held tighter. Felt a gut-wrenching juxtaposition of familiar and new as she gave in and squeezed back. Just for a moment.

A moment in time. When his heart was light and the world narrowed down to them. Just the two of them.

“I’m gonna miss my flight,” she said, pulling back in earnest now.

He released her. “Go,” he said.

She picked up her bag and turned. Took a step.

His heart sank. Heavy again.

“Wait,” he said, out of his chair in a flash and closing the distance between them. Stepping in front of her.

She raised an eyebrow.

“How will I find you?”

Her lips curved into a smug little smile. The smile he’d seen her wear after she aced a chemistry exam. “Perhaps we’ll bump into each other again,” she said.

“No,” he insisted. “It’s been twenty years. We both travel all the time. Right? You travel?”

“A fair amount.”

“Well, you don’t believe in chance. Yet in one day, we’ve bumped into each other twice… in one hour.”

She shrugged. “What are the odds?”

He scoffed. “Out of the mouth of the one who doesn’t believe in chance.”

“I believe in science.”

“Well, scientifically, we could never see each other again.”

“You could always look for me this time.”

He absorbed the jab. Owned it. “I could. I will. But the world is a big place.”

She seemed to consider. Squinted into his eyes. Searching for something only she knew to look for.

“New York.”

“New York what?”

“I’ll be in New York for the next five days.”

“Ha. New York doesn’t narrow the world by very much.”

She nodded. “It is a big city. But you know enough about me to find me.”

“Wait,” he said. “Until Monday?”

“Tuesday.”

“Come on,” he said. She turned. Smiled over her shoulder. That smile that had once been reserved only for him.

“See you around,” she said, and walked away from him. He watched her walk through the door.

And took a deep steadying breath. Glanced at his watch. Now was not the time for a panic attack. He had a plane to fly in less than an hour.

Savannah rushed down the corridor. She could not afford to miss this flight, but she wasn’t late.

She wasn’t thinking straight. Her blood pounded in her ears. She’d only known that she had to get away. Before her composure shattered.

Noah Worthington had been the last person she had expected to see today. When he’d disappeared out of her life twenty years ago, she’d waited for him. She’d waited longer than she cared to admit, even to herself. She hadn’t dated any one else in college. She’d gone into a dating moratorium after he left. Then, after graduation, she’d gone through a phase of serial relationships until ending up in a five-year engagement that had ended four years ago. She’d gone back into her no dating phase with the exception of a couple of dinners here and there. She’d never even signed up for a dating website service.

It was like Noah had taken it all out of her.

She took a seat in the waiting area and found herself studying the pilots as they, too, waited for the plane to arrive.

She wondered again, as she often had while raking in frequent flyer miles, what kind of life they had. Even though they were a little like taxi drivers, as Noah had so oddly pointed out to her so many years ago, they had professionalism and respect and an aloofness from the rest of the world.

Very few were invited into their worlds. Flight attendants seemed to have the most direct route. From her view in first class flight, she’d watched a romance or two unfold between pilots and flight attendants. She had yet to see anything more than cordial interaction between pilots and passengers. And to think that she’d been a part of that world once. At least to some extent. She’d been on the ground floor of a pilot in training.

Did their wives feel part of their world? Or did they feel like they perched on the fringe of an elite group? Only the elite group got to travel around the world with the lives of innocents in their hands.

As she allowed her musings to keep her from thinking directly about Noah, a pair of tall, blonde flight attendants went up to the pilots and after quick hugs all around, and sitting next to the pilots, moved into their private world.

Drug reps were more private. More competitive. She knew a few of them, but they were reluctant to trade secrets. Too much at stake. There were exceptions, of course, mostly among the more seasoned ones like herself. It seemed that the more knowledge they had, the firmer their hold on the industry, hence, they were less afraid of losing it.

Savannah knew that she was moving into that point in her career where she would have to start looking for different options. It was a daily struggle to keep up with, not only the constantly changing drug market, but also the technology alone required to make the presentations.

The young ones, coming out of college, came readily equipped with what she thought of as updated software. Just like her iPhone, Savannah had to constantly make updates to her brain. And it wasn’t just technology and drugs. In order to establish rapport with the doctors younger than she was, she had to stay up with current culture. She had to know which movies were popular… which restaurants were popular in an area. Even what music people were listening to. And that didn’t even begin to touch on what she had to keep up with in the political world. Who was supporting what movement. Such as the medical psychologists. Louisiana and New Mexico were allowing psychologists to write prescriptions. Several other states were right behind them. She had to be able to either support the idea or not depending on who she was interacting with.

All these things took their toll.

How dare Noah Worthington to waltz back nonchalantly into her life!

Hearing them call for first-class boarding, she gathered up her bag and was ushered through the gate. Following a couple down the corridor, she watched their heads tucked together, laughing at things unique to them, the rest of the world nonexistent.

A pang shot through her heart as they invoked unbidden, but now newly invoked memories of her year with Noah. They, too, had often walked hand in hand, oblivious to the rest of the world.

She followed them into the plane where they sat together and she sat across the aisle in her own private first-class seat. She always booked a single seat when possible. She enjoyed the privacy to read, work, or just rest her mind. Resting her mind often meant preparing herself for upcoming meetings.

She heard glimpses of the couple’s conversation.

“Did you see the look on your father’s face when his ex-wife asked him to dance?”

“I can’t believe Meredith caught the bouquet. She’s already thirty. Everyone knows she’ll never get married.”

Savannah smiled to herself. A happy couple on their honeymoon. This should be an interesting flight.

She accepted a bottle of water from the flight attendant and settled into her space. Flying at least once every couple of months, she was comfortable here. She had all the rules down. Drink lots of water. Stand up every hour. Avoid alcohol. Well, at least on the flight itself.

She took out a highlighter and a stack of notes. It was about time to unplug from the world for a few hours. But first, she sent a quick text to her mother. Another to her sister. Confirmed two appointments for next week. Set up a meeting with a new doctor she’d been assigned.

As the plane taxied down the runway, she turned off her phone and iPad. Sipped her water and relaxed a few minutes before getting to work.

She used the sway of the plane to prepare her mind to focus on reading.

The muted laughter of the couple next to her, snuggled in together now beneath a blanket provided by the flight attendant, faded into the background.

And Noah Worthington’s face invaded her thoughts.

He looked better, she mused. He was nearing what Savannah considered a man’s prime.

Handsome. Mature. Successful.

The very same profile of many of the men she dealt with on a daily basis. She had refined her interactions to an art. She knew how to get a man’s attention and to keep it. She knew what to say to keep his focus in the midst of a busy day long enough to have him agree to use her medications.

She also knew when to let him down easily enough. Leaving him looking forward to their next meeting without feeling rejected.

In fact, she’d never dated a doctor. Or nurse. Or anyone in the health sciences.

Her five-year engagement had been to the construction manager who’d built her house on Lake Martin. She kept business and pleasure in two completely separate compartments.

Savannah Richards was good at her job. She knew her science. She knew her marketing techniques. She preferred solitude but was good at social interaction.

She hadn’t however, been good enough at social interaction to keep the interest of Noah Worthington.

Noah gathered up his iPad, tossed a tip on the table he had barely touched, and rushed out of the club. He had a flight to Dallas, then back in the morning.

Then his schedule was about to change. He had somewhere unexpected he needed to be.

He made his way down the concourse, into the terminal, and onto the plane. His copilot, a woman named Michelle, was running late from a delayed connection, so he had a few minutes to himself. To reflect on the conversation he’d had with his ghost from the past. He knew exactly when his divorce hearing was – December, but he hadn’t wanted to talk about it with her.

Whether intentional or not, she’d presented him with a puzzle and Noah Worthington could not resist a challenge. Especially not one wrapped in such an appealing package.

She’d said she was going to be in New York for five days. That either meant she traveled so much that she would only be home for five days or she was travelling to New York. The thought of finding someone who lived in New York was daunting to say the least. But finding someone in a hotel narrowed it down slightly.

He began checking the weather. Skies were clear, so the routine check allowed him to think about Savannah Skye. He smiled at the name she obviously no longer used. He’d always thought how ironic and convenient, that both the girl he loved and the place he loved to be had the same name. Skye.

So she was a sales rep. What would a sales rep be doing in New York? Assuming she didn’t live there, it was unlikely she would have clients there. “Ah ha,” he said, picking up his iPad.

“Ah ha what?” Michelle asked, taking her seat next to him.

“You decided to show up for work?” he asked, pulling up google.

“You know how I am. Always trying to avoid a flight.”

“Yep,” Noah said. So, far, he’d found no gatherings of drug reps in New York. Did drug reps even gather? Perhaps drug companies sponsor events. He googled drug companies and immediately found a list of twenty-five companies. This was going to take a while.

“So what’s her name?”

“What?” Noah asked, after a few more clicks.

“Who is she?”

He stopped. Looked up blankly at his friend. Shook his head. “Who?”

“I haven’t seen you this distracted since you had that crush on the brunette from Idaho.”

Noah laughed and put his iPad aside to continue going through the pre-flight checklist with this copilot who had, over the years, become a friend of sorts. She was physically attractive, he supposed, but he’d never thought of her that way. She was tall, thin, and blonde; hence, she had a never-ending run of men. But it wasn’t her looks so much that kept Noah at bay. It was the personality that doubtless came from the daily battle of trying to fit into a man’s world.

“Back on match.com?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“If you need a date, I can hook you up with a flight attendant.”

“I’m good on my own. Thank you.” He had made the mistake of allowing Michelle to hook him up once. One time too many. The match.com thing hadn’t been for him either. He told himself that after seventeen years of marriage things had changed far too much in the dating world. It was a little more difficult to admit that he couldn’t find anyone he could have a conversation with that he also wanted to kiss.

“Just say the word,” Michelle said.

Noah preferred a woman who spoke like a lady. More times than not, Michelle’s words could just as easily have come from a man.

“No crush,” he said, needing to keep his thoughts about Savannah as far away from Michelle as possible. “Just information seeking.”

“Ok,” she said. “Looks like we should have an uneventful flight.”

“The only way to fly,” he said, automatically, truly not in the mood for pilot banter at the moment.

Noah sat in the cockpit of his plane, a Cessna Mustang with gray interior, running down the pre-flight checklist. He would be in New York by evening. It was already Thursday. That left only 4 days to not only track Savannah down, but also to convince her to spend time with him. He frankly didn’t care if it was no more than a cup of coffee.

The plane was new – he’d only had it a few months, and only flown it three times, but he was already in love with it. He liked the idea of having his own space. No pilot banter. No crude jokes.

No forward flight attendants.

Noah supposed he was not the typical pilot. He loved flying. Passionately. He just didn’t care for much of the culture that went along with it.

He taxied out to the runway and waited his turn. It would be a little while, but he didn’t mind. He still had internet.

He’d run into a dead end with the twenty-five drug companies. Nothing seemed to be going on in New York that would attract a drug rep. Her words kept replaying in his head. You know enough to find me.

Had she been to New York before? That was a place she had always wanted to go. He recalled a cool fall Saturday they’d spent on Lake Martin on his boat. He winced at the memory that he’d told her it was a friend’s.

There were so many things he hadn’t told her.

The weather had been perfect. A soft breeze. The sun warm, but not hot. The leaves on shore starting to turn. The water calm. They were anchored in a quiet cove. Difficult to find this time of year. But Noah knew the lake inside and out. When he wasn’t in the air, he had been in the water. His mother used to joke that he’d had something against land.

That’s how it had been, anyway, before he met Savannah. After that, all bets were off. Even when he’d been in the air, he felt her pulling him back to her. Actually, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t gone out in his boat again that year without taking her with him.

He’d brought a blanket and she had lain with her back against him, snuggled against his chest.

They had nothing to do that day. Mid-terms were over and they were taking a break. It was Saturday, so she wasn’t at her student worker job.

“I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be,” he’d said.

“Really? I can.”

He hadn’t answered right away.

“I’d want you with me,” she added quickly.

He laughed. “I wasn’t fishing. I was just trying to think of someplace better.”

“Not necessarily better. Just different.”

“I’m listening,” he kissed the top of her head. He loved the way her hair smelled. He didn’t tell her that, of course.

“San Francisco seems nice.”

“California? That’s like a whole different country out there. People are different.”

She shifted, to glance at him. “How do you know?”

“I’m a pilot.”

“Have you been there?”

“No. But I hear things.”

“Ok. New York then.”

He stroked her arm, instinctively holding onto her as a wave from a jet ski hit them. “Too big.”

“That’s what makes it so cool,” she said. “So much history and so much energy. Right there in such a small space.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s so big that most of it is in the sky.”

He chuckled. “You like the idea of people living in the sky?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Don’t you? I mean of all people you should like it. You love riding in the sky, why not live in the sky?”

“That’s an interesting concept, my love.” He took her hand, held it in his. Marveled at how much smaller it was than his. How soft. “And very perceptive of you. I do love everything related to the sky.” He waited a beat. “Savannah Skye.”

“I have my moments.”

“What would you do in New York in the sky?”

“I’d spend the day at the Empire State Building.”

“It’s not the tallest.”

“Doesn’t have to be. It’s one of the oldest and has a wraparound view.”

“They have a restaurant that turns while you eat.”

“No way? How do you know that?” She shifted to glance at him before settling back against him.

“You have so little faith in how much I know.”

He felt her laugh against him. “I don’t think you know as much as you think you do.”

“What would you do on the Empire State Building?”

“I’d look around at everything. I’d even look through those telescopes they have. And…” she squeezed his hand. “I’d let you kiss me.”

“Well,” he said, pulling her around to face him, “Since you’re taking me with you to your land in the sky, I suppose we’d better make sure we’re in good practice.”

She always smiled when he went to kiss her. It had bothered him at first, so much so that he’d once asked her about it.

“Why do you smile when I kiss you?”

She’d looked a little perplexed. “Because I like kissing you.”

The voice on the radio indicated it was time for take-off. Pulling himself out his memories, he went to work. As he left the safety of land, his thoughts left the safety of the past.

Had she been to New York before? Had she been to the Empire State Building? Had she kissed someone there?

He should have been the one kissing her on the Empire State Building.

Landing in New York, he had to wait again. A line of planes all waiting their turn to get to a parking space. Opening his iPad, he went for a broad google search this time - medication conferences.

It took no more than a few keystrokes for him to feel the jolt of success.

There was a psychopharmacology conference going on right now.

In New York.

The American Society of Clinical Psychopharmacology.

She hadn’t said she had a specialty.

It made sense though. He was only certified to fly certain types of airplanes.

It was being held at the Grand Hyatt Hotel.

He scrolled through the program.

And grinned like a cat who just stuck the claws of his paw into the tail of a mouse.

Savannah sent out for room service – a big salad with turkey and a bottle of water. She had read all the articles she had downloaded to read. And she already had a working draft that she’d started six months ago. She still had revisions to do on the PowerPoint before her presentation tomorrow morning. Her presentation was scheduled for 11:00 am. The Drug Rep: An Inside View of the Unconscious.

She’d done a similar presentation a couple of years ago, but this was a bigger – much bigger, conference and she wanted to make sure all her references were updated. And she had to make sure she had appropriate psychological jokes. Psychiatrists and psychologists wanted entertainment with their information.

Her plan was to give them just enough of a peek beneath the curtain, or as Sigmund Freud would say, a peek at the ankle – enough to keep them interested, but not enough to give anything away.

She looked at the notes scattered across the hotel desk and wondered how that had become the whole purpose of her life. Give them just enough – then get out.

It would be nice to just, once in a while, be able to let her guard down and say what she really wanted to say instead of what was expected. Or what would be most effective.

While she munched on a bite of egg, turkey, and spinach, someone knocked on the door. “Room service.”

They must have made a mistake, she thought, walking across the room.

“I already have what I need,” she said, through the door.

“We have a delivery for you,” the man insisted.

Savannah didn’t open the door. She trusted most of the strangers she came in contact with in her travels. However, the story of the drug rep brutally murdered in her hotel room in Minneapolis had imprinted itself in her mind and she’d often considered how that could have happened. There were so many possibilities but Savannah always went for the most parsimonious.

“Just leave it,” she said, “Thank you.”

The man put something next to her door and walked off.

Savannah waited. She really couldn’t be sure he’d left.

But if they’d brought her salad twice, she needed to call and straighten it out.

She walked back to her desk, drank some water, and walked back to the door. Waited. When she heard voices coming down the hall, she opened the door. If she was going to be nabbed, at least she’d have witnesses.

Instead of the food service tray she’d expected, there was a vase of red roses next to her door.

Two women walked down the hall, passed her, and no one else was visible.

She picked up the vase and took it into her room, locking the door behind her.

Keeping the flowers at arm’s length, she took them to the bathroom and set them on the counter. Kept her eyes on them as though they would bite if she looked away. No one had sent her flowers since the construction worker and that had been at the beginning of their relationship.

Why would someone possibly send her flowers?

After several minutes had passed, with her mind frozen, she thought to look for a card and found one. The note was printed, so no handwriting to decipher.

Good luck with your presentation tomorrow.

She turned it over. There were no other identifying notes. Not even a florist name. That was odd.

Perhaps the conference coordinator had sent flowers out to all the presenters. That was the most logical explanation she could fathom.

If she, however, had been the conference coordinator, she would most definitely not send out the flowers of love to wish someone luck. White roses perhaps. Even better, would have been a bouquet of flowers with lilies, white roses, and white mini carnations in a blue vase. Maybe some white daisies. Definitely white flowers.

Instead, a vase of long-stem red roses with assorted fresh greenery and baby’s breath in a silver vase sat on her bathroom counter.

Deciding they weren’t going to do any damage, she took each bloom, one at a time, and examined it. They were perfectly formed rose buds. She sniffed. Definitely high quality. She counted them.

Frowned.

Counted three times more.

There were only eleven roses in the arrangement.

She shook her head, pushed them to the back of the counter against the mirror.

Unable to sort the whole thing out and make further sense of it, she double-checked the hotel room door lock, put it out of her mind, and went back to work on her presentation.

Around nine o’clock she realized her presentation was done. Sure, she could change up the font. Again. Or google some more images.

But as of right now, it was professional and comprehensive, but still entertaining.

She saved it on her computer. On the cloud. And emailed a copy to herself.

The next morning, she got up early, ran five miles on the treadmill in her room, and took a long hot shower after having eggs and fruit sent up for breakfast.

She put on a black pencil skirt with matching short jacket and an emerald camisole – to match her eyes.

She was focused and had her mind trained on her presentation as she went down to the conference area at the hotel. In order to get into the social mode, she went into the vending area where the other sales reps would be.

“There you are,” Adam, one of the reps from the Denver area pounced on her when she’d barely gotten in the door.

“Hey Adam. I see you made it.” Adam was always at the conferences and he’d stayed in touch with Savannah throughout the years. They had drinks occasionally while at the conferences. They had, in fact, originally met in Chicago at a smaller conference.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “I’ve got to get back to my booth, but make sure you check out the STIM display back there.”

“I thought you were anti-STIM.”

“I am. They’re gonna steal our business. Mark my words. But in the meantime, they have a cool display.”

Savannah laughed. “I’ll check it out.”

Adam started to walk away, “Oh hey, drinks tonight?”

“Not tonight,” she said. “We have that black-tie dinner thing.”

“Right.” He made a face. “Love those things.”

“Just part of the job, Adam.”

“Yep. Tomorrow night, then?” he asked, walking backwards.

“Sure,” Savannah said absently. She never made casual commitments ahead of time at these things. Just in case she needed to be available for a business meeting. But she didn’t really consider Adam a commitment. She was sure he felt the same way.

A little later, she stepped into a crowded meeting room. Everyone, it seemed wanted to know about the unconscious thoughts of a sales rep. That’s what I get for having a catchy title.

Putting a smile on her face, she stepped into her extraverted role and began her presentation.

Everything went smoothly until a little over halfway through. “So as you can see,” she said. “from the next slide, the mechanism of action isn’t all we worry about.”

The next slide elicited a laugh. She had a cartoon up on the screen that had nothing to do with a drug’s mechanism of action. It was Sigmund Freud himself, cigar in hand.

“However, back to busi.” She froze in mid-sentence.

Her eyes fell on a man sitting in the second row on the left that she hadn’t noticed before. He had been hidden behind a couple of what looked to be young physician assistants.

But this man was no doctor. She didn’t need her knack for classifying people to figure this one out.

This man wore a smug grin that said I found you sooner than you thought. And I just caught you terribly off guard.

“Back to business,” she continued, deftly putting Noah Worthington out her mind.

For a full two seconds.

After her presentation ended – exactly on time, several psychiatrists, two psychologists, and three other mental health workers came up, introduced themselves, and wanted to further the conversation.

She found the enthusiasm of the medical psychologists to be the most refreshing of all the medical professions she worked with. The medical psychologists used medications judiciously and effectively. They were apt to try other things in addition to medication. Savannah liked that about them and they responded well to her nonjudgmental response to their methods.

Psychiatrists, on the other hand, tended to see non-medication interventions as a waste of time. Depending on who they were speaking to, they may not come right out and say it, but medication was their only thing.

When the two psychologists asked to take her to lunch, she agreed, enjoying the twist of events. Usually, she was the one trying to take doctors to lunch to woo them into using her medications over another company’s. But the psychologists seemed genuinely interested in establishing a relationship with her and learning more about the drug business.

She soon learned that they were from Louisiana. The woman, middle-aged, but looked Savannah’s age, was a newly licensed medical psychologist. The man, in his early sixties, was her business partner. Though he was not a medical psychologist, he actually had more experience in the medical field than the newly licensed medical psychologist did. They seemed to work well together and enjoyed each other’s company.

As they left the presentation room, Savannah scanned the room for Noah, but he had disappeared. She had the fleeting thought that she had imagined him. She had only glimpsed him the one time and then her view had been obstructed. The psychologists took her to the hotel café and they had a pleasant lunch. Savannah was honest with them. She didn’t get to Louisiana often, but she could send an associate in the interim. She warned them that the associate would do her best to sway them to use their medications over those from other companies. They, however, seemed to expect this and weren’t alarmed.

They ordered cocktails, so Savannah ordered a mimosa, her standby lunch drink. She found it difficult to keep her attention on them, even though she considered herself working. The thought that Noah was out there was disconcerting to say the least.

That despite insurmountable odds, he had managed to locate her in New York. She hadn’t thought to ever see him again.

But there he had been, sitting in the audience of her presentation. The knowledge that he had found her sent little shivers through her. Little shivers that she thought had been eradicated from her system.

There was also the anticipation that she was destined to see him again. Although she could have doubtless found him after the presentation, she had needed to work. And… she had needed time to process the fact that he was, indeed here, in her hotel.

She finished her lunch and excused herself from the couple of psychologists. They had one more presentation they wanted to catch, then they were headed out to see the Statue of Liberty. She didn’t blame them. If she didn’t have obligations to be there, she would cut out, too. That was half the fun of going to conferences.

Not wanting to go back to her room just yet, she went to the courtyard and found a quiet place to respond to texts and emails. Her mother and sister had checked in. They had a bit of anxiety about her traveling alone though she’d been doing it her whole career. Her sister was a stay-at-home mom who devoted far too much time to worrying. And her mother was a retired school teacher, which pretty much summed things up in Savannah’s mind. Her mother had pushed her relentlessly until she’d left home. Then Savannah had continued to push herself. Now her mother insisted that Savannah worked too hard.

MOTHER: It’s your, what, fourth or fifth time to New York? And you’ve never seen anything other than the inside of a hotel.

SAVANNAH: I happen to be sitting outside right now, Mom.

MOTHER: That doesn’t count and you know it. Go see the Statue of Liberty, go to the Empire State Building, go shopping, for goodness sakes. You love shopping. And you’re in the shopping mecca.

Savannah sighed.

SAVANNAH: I will, Mom. I go shopping every time I’m here. In fact, I might even go today.

MOTHER: Good. Just be careful out there.

SAVANNAH: Love you, Mom.

There was a black-tie event tonight at the Art Institute. Although she had brought something to wear, it wouldn’t hurt to take a walk down 5th Avenue.

She gathered up her bags and went back inside the crowded hotel, making her way toward the elevators. She had the smile back on her face and greeted several acquaintances along the way.

She was looking forward to getting out of her heels and putting on some flats, at least until tonight.

As she reached the elevators and pressed the button, her smile faltered.

“Well, hello, Savannah Richards,” Noah said, pushing himself off the wall to step toward her. “Are you staying here, too?”

Her heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. “You’re stalking me now,” she said.

He looked hurt. “I like to think of it more as… hunting.”

She laughed. “Is that what they’re calling it now?” She pressed the elevator button again.

“I’m always up for a challenge,” he said.

“I wasn’t challenging you, Noah. I was merely trying to… get away.”

“It sounded like a challenge to me,” he said, unable to hide the hurt on his face.

She sighed. “I’m actually rather impressed that you found me.”

“It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “Looks like you’re having a busy day.”

“Very.”

“So, since I’m here. And you’re here.” He put his hands in his pockets and joined her in staring at the elevator. “Do you want to go have coffee?”

Coffee. With the man who broke her heart twenty years ago. That was exactly what she wanted to do. “I’m actually on my way out.”

“Oh. I see,” Again, that crestfallen look.

“But,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I have a black-tie affair tonight at the museum – a work thing. I was planning to go by myself, but I wouldn’t mind having an escort.” The offer of a black-tie affair usually sent most men running in the other direction.

“Black tie, huh? That happens to be my specialty.”

She narrowed her eyes, looking for the joke. Didn’t find it. “Great. I’ll meet you in the lobby at 7:00.”

Noah watched the doors of the elevator close and turned away. He’d been loitering around the elevators so long that the security guard had questioned him. Apparently waiting for someone at the elevator was a questionable excuse for standing around at this hotel.

He had a ridiculous grin on his face. She had been on target. He had felt like a stalker standing at the elevators for nearly two hours. His perseverance had paid off, though. In a hotel this large with this many people wandering around, it would have easy to lose track of her. It had been an anomaly that he’d seen her name in the presentation program. After her presentation, she’d been swamped with what he thought of as fans, then swept off to lunch with some people.

Although he wanted to talk to her, he wanted to do it in private. The last thing he wanted was to be an embarrassment to her.

But now… she had invited him to be with her in public. That meant he didn’t embarrass her. She would have to introduce him. Spend hours with him.

There was just one problem.

He had to find a tux.

Savannah sat in the back of a taxi, locked in traffic. Tapping her foot. Tapping her fingers against her phone. She had taken far too long at the shops, but she had found the perfect dress for tonight. She didn’t need shoes – wasn’t into shoe fads. She liked basic pumps for all work and social occasions and wore flats on days like today. Of course, she also liked boots. Boots were sort of her weakness, but too big to travel with.

And added to that, she’d stopped in at one of the Blow Dry Bars to have her hair washed, blown and styled, then she had her make-up done and, finally, her nails. She’d chosen the mysterious look from a menu of make-up choices – smoky eyes, glossy lips. Her hair felt light, bouncy.

She checked the time on her phone. Again.

Took a deep breath.

She had plenty of time to get back to the hotel, change, and get back downstairs.

She should have just gotten dressed at the salon, she berated herself for the hundredth time. But her shoes were in her hotel room as well as her perfume.

I’ll be fashionable late.

Nonetheless, with the magic of the New York minute, she arrived at the door to her hotel with forty-five minutes to get to her room, change, and make it back to the lobby.

Rushing into her room, she threw everything on the bed, plugged in her phone for a quick charge, and checked on the roses. They were still there and there were still only eleven of them.

With a little trill of girlish excitement, she unwrapped the black taffeta beaded gown with an off-the-shoulder bodice. The flower clustered sequins crowded the bodice and dispersed along the waist becoming scattered on the skirt. There was a royal blue sash at the waist, adding an elegant touch. The slit at the side was high – mid-thigh giving the formal column dress an unexpected edge.

She spritzed perfume high into the air, and walked through it. She adjusted the little diamond necklace she had bought herself last Christmas at Tiffany’s and stepped into her shoes.

Checked the time. She had fifteen minutes to get downstairs. She grabbed her phone, tucked it into her handbag, and twirled in front of the mirror.

Black tie events are important to my career. Not everyone gets to go.

She ignored the other voice that reminded her that this one was different. She’d never taken a date.

It’s not a date.

She’d never taken an escort.

It’s Noah Worthington.

She laughed. Told herself to just enjoy the moment.

When she stepped into the lobby, she immediately realized she should have been more specific when she said to meet in the lobby.

Air and Water.

She found him near the waterfall, leaning against a column.

Her heart fluttered. She was again astounded that he was even more handsome than he was twenty years ago. Their clothing couldn’t have matched more perfectly if they had tried. He wore a black tux with white shirt and royal blue tie. Six feet tall, broad shoulders, trim. A smile that would melt any female heart. He was clearly the most handsome man in the crowded lobby. A lobby the size of a basketball court.

She could tell he had watched her look for him. Felt the pink flush on her cheeks at his unwavering perusal.

He took a step forward, kept one hand in his pocket and one behind his back.

She returned his smile. Their gazes locked.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

He took another step forward, brought a single long-stem red rose from behind his back. “To complete your set,” he said.

She looked at the rose. Looked back at him. Back at the rose.

Oh. My.

It all clicked together for her. The eleven roses in her bathroom. The rose in his hand.

He held the rose out to her. She took it, her fingers trembling as she took it in her hands, avoiding the thorns. A white ribbon wound up the stem, and was tied into a bow.

She sniffed it, her eyes misting. Squeezing her eyes closed, she steadied herself.

Opened her eyes, her lips curving into a smile.

“Shall we make our way to the museum?” he asked, crooking his arm and holding it out to her.

She put her hand on his arm and followed him toward the front doors of the hotel. As they walked through the crowded lobby, people moved aside for them, but Savannah barely noticed them. She was ensconced in her own world.

With a handsome pilot. Off to a black-tie gala at the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art. Not bad for a girl from Birmingham, Alabama and a guy from Ft. Worth.

Outside the hotel, the doorman hustled to hail a cab.

“Wait here for a second,” he whispered in Savannah’s ear.

He stepped up to the valet stand, spoke to the valet, and came back to her side. “Our car will be here in five minutes,” he said, waving off the taxi.

“We’re not taking a taxi?”

“Not tonight,” he said.

It was more than five minutes, but less than ten, when a sleek, black limo pulled up to the curb. The valet appeared at the car, opened it, and ushered them forward.

Settled into the back of the limo, he smiled.

“Nice touch,” she said.

“Can’t be riding around in a taxi dressed like this,” he said.

“I’m a little impressed,” she said.

“Then it was worth it.”

“I’m not easily impressed,” she said.

“I didn’t think you were. So, who are we meeting with tonight?”

“It’s hosted by one of the top five drug companies.”

“Big pharma.”

“None other.”

“Is this the one you work for then?”

“It’s crazy, but no. You might say I’m one of the competitor representatives.”

“That sounds like quite an honor.”

“It’s actually more like an obligation.”

Noah pulled a bottle of champagne from the ice bucket in front of them and filled two flutes. Handed one to her. “Here’s to obligations,” he said, touching his glass to hers.

“To obligations,” she said and sipping. This was a Noah that she didn’t know; nor had she expected.

The Noah that she had known was a devil-may-care daredevil. He drove a black Mustang and wore white t-shirts. Though she knew him to be disciplined and hard-working, her memory had created an image of him as something of a bad boy.

Noah had never given her flowers, nor had he ever taken her to a gala in a limo. While wearing a tuxedo. And he had certainly never given her champagne.

They had drunk beer on his boat on Lake Martin, wearing swimsuits, and shorts.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

“I was remembering beer on Lake Martin. Wondering how we’d ended up drinking champagne in New York in what feels like the blink of an eye.”

“Life is full of surprises, isn’t it?” he asked.

“How did you find me?”

“You told me you’d be in New York.”

“How did you know I didn’t live here?

“I was betting on the come.”

“There you go with gambling references again.”

“It means I’m betting on the future.”

“I know what it means,” she said, sipping bubbles from her glass. “I’m not sure what it means in this case.”

“It means if you lived here, I never would have found you. But if you were visiting, you had to be staying at one of the hotels. And you were obviously here for some kind of business thing. From there, I looked for drug conferences.”

“It’s not really a drug conference.”

“Not exactly, no, which made it a bit more difficult.”

Before they could finish their conversation, they pulled up in front of the Met and the driver opened their door.

Replacing the typical tourist crowd from daytime, the Met was overflowing with ladies dressed in formal evening gowns and men in tuxes. These were the business moguls of the drug companies, physicians, and representatives like Savannah.

And their dates.

Or escorts.

It was all semantics, Savannah mused as she walked up the steps with her hand on Noah’s arm. They could be perfect strangers, having met in the cab, but once they appeared together at the gala, they were automatically thought to be a couple.

Adam was the first person she recognized. He must have been watching for her. She ignored the little pang of guilt at not warning him that this time, unlike years before, she wouldn’t be sitting with him.

“Adam,” she said, “this is Noah.”

Noah and Adam shook hands, seemed to size each other up.

“Savannah didn’t mention she was bringing a date,” Adam said.

“I don’t think she knew until today,” Noah said.

“I see,” Adam said.

“Noah and I were friends in college,” Savannah stated.

“I see,” Adam said, seeming to bristle a bit. “Are you a doctor?”

“No, I’m a pilot.”

“Oh,” Adam said, then was silent.

“Well,” Savannah said. “We should go inside. It’s about time for them to get started.”

“Of course,” Adam said, stepping aside.

Savannah and Noah went through the museum to the room set aside for tonight’s occasion. There were several small groups clustered around the room.

“We should really spend some time in here,” Noah said, as they passed several paintings.

Savannah glanced at him askance. “Really? You like art?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Who doesn’t?”

She shrugged and took a glass of champagne from a passing server. “Not a lot of free time,” she murmured.

He shifted. Faced her. “Are you telling me your life is all work and no play?”

She studied the bubbles in her glass. “I work a lot.”

“How long has it been?”

As her thoughts went places she typically didn’t think so much about, she felt her face flush. “How long?” she echoed thickly.

He beamed. “Since you had a date.”

She laughed.

“But we can talk about… the other if you want to.”

“Four years,” she said. “Four years since I had a boyfriend. And I haven’t dated really since then.”

“Haven’t dated much or at all?”

“You’re awfully inquisitive,” she turned her gaze to an abstract painting – splashes of black and white that resembled the work of a three-year-old.

“I want to know everything,” he said.

This time, she flushed in earnest. “My life is rather boring.”

He scoffed. “Your life has never come close to being boring.”

She bit her lip. A flurry of possible responses ran through her head. Before she could land on one of them, they were interrupted by Mr. Pence, CEO of one of the big drug companies hosting tonight’s gala.

“Miss Savannah Richards,” he greeted her with obvious enthusiasm, taking her hand. “I’m so glad you could make it tonight.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Mr. Pence, I’d like you to meet my friend, Noah Worthington,” she said as she pulled her hand from his.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you a physician?”

“No, I’m not a doctor, I’m a pilot.”

“Oh,” Mr. Pence said, a similar expression to the one Adam had worn upon hearing the news that Savannah had brought an outsider into their folds. “Well, then, this should be interesting to you.”

“It is interesting to see the inside of Savannah’s world.”

“She’s had a successful career,” Mr. Pence said.

“Hopefully you’re not putting me out to pasture yet,” Savannah said, with a laugh.

“Absolutely not,” the older man said. “In fact, I should warn you Mr. Worthington that if you have designs on Savannah, we won’t let her go without a fight.”

“I wouldn’t think of taking her away from the thing she loves.”

“Good. Good,” Mr. Pence said. “Well, enjoy yourselves. There’s food in the next room.”

After he walked out of earshot, Savannah rolled her eyes. “Designs on me?”

“I think it shows great affection on his part to be worried about you.”

“Designs?”

“It’s cute,” he said. “Remember, he’s from a different generation.”

“Oh, I get that. But he made an awful lot of assumptions by you standing next to me.”

“You did introduce me as your friend,” he reminded her, “Come on, I’m starved.”

When they stood in front of the food display, he pinned his gaze to hers. “Just say the word. I’ll have you out of here and in a fancy restaurant.”

She shook her head and led him toward the other room. “As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think it’s a good idea. They would put me out to pasture for sure.”

He handed her a plate, stepped aside for her to go first. She put some cheese, a raspberry crepe, and some crab salad on her plate. He followed suit.

“I can get us in to a nice restaurant,” he said as they sat at an empty table, covered with a white tablecloth.

“This is just the appetizer,” she said.

He chuckled. “If you insist.”

Another of Savannah’s colleagues came up and hugged Savannah. She looked at Noah with a big smile.

“I’m a pilot,” he said, before she could ask.

“Oh. Wow,” the young woman said, glancing at Savannah.

“We’re friends,” Savannah said.

“Oh. Ok. I thought…”

Noah laughed.

“We’ll talk later, Savannah,” the woman said and moved away.

“She thought I brought my pilot to dinner,” Savannah said, under her breath.

“Actually,” Noah said, biting into a crepe. “It’s customary.”

“Customary?”

“It’s not unusual for people to bring their private pilots with them to things like this.”

Savannah tucked her hair behind her ears. “You work for the airline.”

“I do,” he said. “But they don’t know that.”

Savannah looked around the room. Many of the guests were wealthy, powerful people. She was a drug representative. Not really part of this world. Not on a day to day basis. Only during special events like this.

“They think I hired a private pilot.”

“That would be my guess,” Noah said, keeping his focus on her. “So, you can expect that they’ll look at you a little differently from now on. Unless, of course, you set them straight.”

Her lips curved into a mysterious smile. “I don’t know why I would do that. I rather like the idea of having my own private pilot.”

“That opens all sorts of doors in my head.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but secretly enjoyed that he still had those doors he was willing to open for her.

“Have you thought about doing that?” she asked.

His eyes widened and she had to quickly swallow her water to avoid spewing. “Let me rephrase that. Have you thought about hiring out as a private pilot?”

“I have thought about that,” he said.

“Well, have you ever done it?”

“Yes,” he said, but she could see the shutters close in his face. And she was not surprised when he changed the subject. “What do you want to do after this?” he asked.

“After the conference?”

“After the gala.”

“It’ll be late,” she said.

“You have an early morning?”

“Only if I want to. With my presentation over, I don’t really have any obligations.”

“Yet you’re staying until Tuesday.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably catch some workshops.”

“Savannah,” he said. “You do know the real reason people go to conferences.”

“To learn,” she insisted.

He rolled his eyes.

“And to network.”

“Those are good reasons. They also go to get away. To have fun.”

“I am having fun,” she said.

He smiled. “That’s good to know. Then perhaps you’d like to have some non-conference fun. Unless of course, you can’t handle it.”

“Of course, I can handle it.”

“Name one thing in New York that you’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t done.”

“Easy. I’d like to go up the Empire State Building.”

“And… you’ve never done that.”

She shook her head.

“You do realize that’s the first thing people do when they come to New York.”

She shrugged. “I’ve never done it.”

“You’ve never been to the Statue of Liberty.”

She shook her head. “But…” she held up her hand. “I’ve been shopping on Fifth Avenue. In fact, I was there today.”

“That’s a relief. I was beginning to worry about you.”

“Now you’re making fun.”

“Nope. Now I know what I can do for you.”

“Ha.”

He grinned. “One of many things.”

The speaker, Mr. Pence, came on the microphone, and Savannah realized the room had filled and people were seated all around them.

Mr. Pence began talking as dinner was served. Savannah quickly regretted her decision to not duck out and go to that fancy restaurant Noah had offered. The food was bland and the speech predictable.

She leaned over, put her lips next to Noah’s ear. “Do you still want to get out of here?”

“Just say the word,” he said, turning, his face near hers. His lips a hair’s breadth from hers.

Her heart stuttered as her gaze landed on his lips. Although she had kissed those lips hundreds of times before, it was as though she never had.

He was a different man now with twenty years between. Twenty unknown years. The disconnect was intriguing.

What would it feel like to kiss him? Would it be familiar or would it be brand new? She swallowed thickly. She lifted her gaze back to his and she was lost in those pools of blue.

Noah Worthington was an intriguing man. There was so much she knew. So much she didn’t know.

And, oh so very much that she wanted to know.

Getting her out was proving to be more difficult than he had expected. Savannah, unfortunately, was obligated to be here for work. If she boldly got up and walked out, she would be noticed. And judged. Noah could do black tie events in his sleep. Especially one where no one knew him and he was free to sit in the background and observe.

That didn’t mean that he wanted to be here.

He wanted to be with Savannah, but preferably alone with her.

As Pence was wrapping up his speech, Noah took the opportunity to set their exit in motion. “When I say go, meet me out in front of the restrooms,” he said.

She nodded. Waited until the applause started.

“Now,” he said. And was pleasantly surprised when she got up and made her way out of the room.

He waited a couple of minutes. Then followed her out.

She smiled sheepishly as they dashed out the front door of the museum. She waited while he had the limo brought around. Her cheeks were flushed a bit with excitement. He couldn’t help staring at her. She was glowing.

And he was spellbound.

And honored that he had been the one to talk her into doing the thing that put that flush on her face.

He didn’t want to let her down.

Ever.

Again.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as the car pulled out into the traffic.

“It’s a surprise,” he said.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“I know. But you’ll like this one.”

She grinned at him, shook her head. “You haven’t changed one single bit.”

“And you’ve developed a mean streak,” he said with a feigned look of hurt.

She chuckled. “You have no idea.”

“You have my attention now,” he said.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes. He soaked in every angle of her face, every movement of her lips. Even in twenty years, she was perfect – better even than before and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“You’re pretty,” he said.

She chuckled again, her face flushing. “You’re being silly.”

“It’s like that first day all over again.”

She stared back him then, her lips curving into that sexy little confident smile that he loved. “It is, isn’t it?”

The car stopped and he helped her out, taking her hand. He didn’t let go as they went into the doors of the Empire State Building.

“Aren’t they closed?” She asked.

He led her to the ticket counter, bought two tickets and went to the elevators where there was a line. “They’re open,” he said. “And the best time to visit is at night.”

“Hmm,” she said.

They got into the elevator and started up. He watched the play of emotions on her face. The emotions she hid well. There was a bit of trepidation as the elevator creaked and started up, mixed with a bit of excitement.

When they got out at the top, they went to the outside door and, stepping outside into the wind and darkness, high above the streets of New York, she gasped. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” he said, keeping a firm hold on her hand as they stepped out to the railing.

“This is so beautiful.” She whispered.

“Come around here. Look at Central Park.”

They walked around, gazing at the busy life of New York far below them. The cool breeze picked up on the other side. She shivered.

He took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. With a look of gratitude, she slipped her arms in the sleeves and disappeared into his jacket that was much too big for her.

“Wouldn’t it be awesome to live here? So much energy,” she said.

“A far cry from the small town of Birmingham or Auburn.”

“There isn’t even a comparison.”

“Where do you live now?” he asked.

“Lake Martin,” she said.

She answered easily, not realizing the effect her words would have on him. They had spent countless hours there on the lake. The fact that she had chosen to make her home there, almost caused him to come undone.

“You remember it, right?” she asked, focused on the city.

“Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat.

She turned, looked at him. Studied his face. “You’re surprised,” she said.

Noah felt a lump in his throat that threatened to send tears to his eyes. After all he put her through, she was able to stay there, where they had been connected, and make her life.

“Noah,” she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek.

He sucked in his breath, determined not to allow his thoughts – his regrets to overcome him now.

He put his hand over hers, smiled, wobbly as it felt, and squeezed as he enveloped both her hands in his. They were mere inches apart. He moved forward, kissed her on the forehead.

Her eyes fluttered closed. He gently turned her, pulled her against him, and rested her back against his chest. His chin fit perfectly on the top of her head.

Just as he remembered.

Together, they watched the traffic below, the lights of the city all around them. Others, mostly couples, walked around them, leaving them alone in their own little world.

He could feel her heartbeat against his chest. Or maybe he imagined it. Maybe it was his own heart beating. He could feel her warm breath against his hand as his arms were wrapped around her. She hesitated, but rested her arms against his.

Noah could not have been more content in that moment.

He was in a beautiful place with the most beautiful girl in the world. There was no one else he could possibly want to be with.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, neither one wanting to move.

He heard a clock strike midnight and she tensed against him.

“We should go,” she said.

He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. “Are you going to turn into a pumpkin?”

“Cinderella didn’t turn into a pumpkin, the carriage did.”

“But something about the stroke of midnight...”

“Makes it feel like it’s all going to end.”

“It doesn’t have to end. She could have stayed with the prince instead of running off.” Noah had never understood that.

“She couldn’t let him find out who she really was.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. He was already in love with her.”

“He only met her hours before.”

“It happens.”

“But she couldn’t have known that.”

“She needed to have faith.”

“Then there wouldn’t have been a story.”

“There was a story alright.”

She sighed. “A big part of the story was that he had to search for her.”

“It didn’t have to be that way, but you’re probably right,” he admitted. “Men often don’t

realize what they have until it’s gone.”

“You know this from experience?”

“No,” he said. “You’re right. We should probably go.”

He led her back to the elevators, and silent now, they traveled down. She kept her hands hidden in his jacket. He stared at the numbers as the dial ticked downward.

He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to explain. He wanted her to understand.

But not now.

He wasn’t ready to break the spell.

He wasn’t ready to risk her rejecting him for what he had done.

He told himself that the damage had been done twenty years ago. If he told her the truth, would it only make things worse? He just wanted it all to be behind them.

He wanted to begin again.

Savannah knew the moment Noah retreated into himself. She kicked herself all the way down the elevator.

It was too soon to bring up the past.

They were just at the beginning of starting over. It would do no good to bring it all up again anyway.

They had to let it go if they were going to start over.

She just had so many questions. So many unanswered questions.

They couldn’t deny the unfinished business. It was part of who they were.

But she would give it time.

She would give it time because she liked who he was. Liked who they were together.

They got back to the hotel and went through the lobby, nearly deserted now.

At the elevators, she took his hand. Smiled at him. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her palm. “Have breakfast with me,” he said.

She knew better than to try and understand his changing moods. “I plan to sleep through breakfast,” she said. “Remember, I turn into a pumpkin at Midnight.”

He chuckled and pulled her against him in a hug. “Lunch then?” he asked, holding her elbows.

“Alright. I’ll have lunch with you.”

The elevator door opened and they went inside. “Keep the rest of the day open, too. I have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“I know, but you’ll love this one.”

They got off at her floor. She handed him the rose she had remembered to pick up from the seat in the limo and pulled her phone out of her handbag. “I’m here,” she said, when they got to her door. She held her phone to her door and it unlocked. He reached behind her, opened the door and stepped aside for her.

“Good night,” he said, handing the rose back to her.

“Good night,” she said, walking through the door, letting him close it behind her.

She stood staring at the closed door. Let the range of emotions wash over her.

This was a day she had never, ever expected. After twenty years.

In the span of mere days, she had accidentally run into her college sweetheart, set an impossible path for him to find her a second time in New York, and spent a fairytale evening with him.

She stepped out of her shoes and walked into the bathroom with her rose. She pulled the vase forward and slid the rose into the vase. Twelve roses now.

She smiled to herself at the romantic gesture.

She took the roses into the bedroom and placed them on the dresser. She sat on the edge of the bed and realized she still wore his jacket.

Taking it off, she pressed her face against it. And inhaled deeply.

She missed him.

How could she miss him already?

This was not a good sign.

He had told her two days ago that he wasn’t even divorced yet.

She groaned.

She wasn’t sure what it said about her, but she didn’t care. She wanted to spend time with him. She wanted to know the answers.

Twenty years ago he had gone back to visit his parents. He had called it a summons. He had evaded telling her much other than it was a business meeting with someone his father had known since childhood.

Three weeks later, he had graduated, packed up and gone back to Ft. Worth.

They hadn’t broken up. He’d said he’d call. That was before they had cell phones.

He hadn’t called.

She’d never even known if he made it home. She’d gone to the Internet to try and find news of an accident.

All she knew was that he lived with his parents in Ft. Worth. She knew their names were Martin and Mary Worthington. She had looked, but she hadn’t been able to locate them online.

She’d gone about her summer – school and student worker job.

But she had grieved.

And buried herself in her studies.

She’d looked for him a few times over the years, but unsuccessfully. As far as she had been concerned, he had fallen off the face of the earth.

She wanted to know the answers.

Because she had never stopped loving him.

Savannah was up at seven the next morning. She jumped on the treadmill, and ordered room service – yogurt and granola today. She flipped through the conference program and found a couple of presentations that she had highlighted to possibly attend.

Instead, she indulged herself and ran a hot bubble bath. She replayed last night over and over in her head.

Found herself looking forward to the day. With Noah. Whatever it may hold.

She put on some jeans and a casual shirt, pulled her hair back, put on a pair of dark sunshades, and slipped out to the elevators.

After stopping by Starbucks for a grande vanilla latte with caramel drizzle, she went to the blow out bar around the corner. She had her hair washed and dried and her make-up done in what they called natural.

With it being Saturday morning, the blow out bar was packed. Whoever came up with the idea was an absolute genius and her credit card was fortunate that this New York indulgence hadn’t caught on in Birmingham. Sure, she could go to a salon, but that was typically for a haircut, too, and they didn’t do make-up.

After her morning of being pampered, she went back to the hotel and changed clothes three times. She decided against blue jeans and quickly ruled out a skirt and jacket.

She put on the red dress she’d originally brought for last night’s gala, added a little cardigan, put on the chunky red lace-up heels she had bought to match, and studied herself in the mirror.

The dress was red jacquard flower print, with a high low hem – just above her knees in the front and halfway down her calves in the back. The sales lady had said it could be dressed up or down. Since she had no idea what Noah had planned for the day, she thought she could pass for whatever he came up with. She could always remove the cardigan for a dressier look for dinner.

She checked the clock and paced a bit. He hadn’t said what time he would be there to pick her up or even where they would meet.

It was ten to noon. She sniffed the roses, and fought back the panic that he wouldn’t show up.

What if he just didn’t? She had no way to contact him.

He won’t disappear again.

He had acted a little distant after she’d brought up the past, but then he’d asked her to spend the day with him.

If he stands me up, I won’t see him again.

Going to the window, she took deep, steading breaths.

I shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble getting ready.

Feeling a little foolish, she located the remote and checked the weather. It was going to be a beautiful day.

If he’s not here by one o’clock, I’m going to walk around the city myself. She’d seen an interesting little restaurant around the corner that looked like a good lunch spot.

When he knocked on the door, she jumped and fumbled the remote.

She went to the door, confirmed that it was him, and opened the door.

“Hi,” he said, “you look a little startled.”

“Do I?” She turned her anxiety into a bright smile.

“Yes, you do, but nonetheless stunning.”

“You look good,” she said. He was wearing khaki pants with loafers and a pale pink shirt, open at the collar. He wore a leather case hanging from a strap across his shoulders.

“I’m overdressed,” she said, biting her lip.

“You’re perfect,” he said. “Ready for lunch?”

“Starved.”

They fell into any easy rhythm going downstairs, out onto the street.

He glanced at her shoes, “I’ll get a taxi.”

Once inside the back seat, he gave the driver an address.

“What’s for lunch?”

He winked at her.

“I know,” she said. “It’s a surprise.”

He laughed. “You always were a quick study.”

“Yeah,” And I’ve always been a sucker for you.

They only went three blocks before the driver pulled up to the curb and they got out. Taking her hand, Noah led her to the door of a quintessential pizza parlor.

“Pizza,” she said, letting her guard down.

“This may be your third time to New York, but this time you get to really experience it.”

He was staring at her again, but she didn’t care. There was a line out the door, but she didn’t care.

He was right. She’d never had New York pizza.

As they stood in line, he asked. “Exactly what have you done during your time in New York?”

“Let see… I’ve ridden the subway. I’ve been to the Met obviously. And I’ve been shopping on Fifth Avenue. Oh. And I discovered blow out bars.”

He gave her an odd look. “Blow out bar?”

She laughed. Swirled her hair.

“Ah. Haircut.”

“Not a cut. Just a blow dry.”

He ran a hand through her hair. “Nice,” he said. “Ok, so shopping, art museum, and hair.”

“And subway.”

“Right. And art isn’t really your thing.”

“I don’t dislike it.”

“There’s a big difference between liking something and disliking it.” He unzipped his case and pulled out his iPad.

“Ah,” she said.

“Ah what?”

“Ah, I wondered what you had in there.”

“A pilot is never without his iPad.”

“Really? We use iPads, too, for medications.”

“Then you understand.”

“Yeah, but I’m not working right now.”

“A pilot is always on call.”

“Always?”

“Pretty much. Yeah.”

He made a few clicks on his iPad. “Done,” he said.

“Work?”

“Not this time,” he said with a wink.

“Personal?”

“Part of your surprise.”

Noah had to make some last-minute adjustments in his plan. The weather had been perfect for the Staten Island Ferry and the Statue of Liberty. But Savannah had come out wearing something looking more like an evening dress and heels than for walking around as a tourist. He would ask her to wear jeans and flats tomorrow. But not yet. She had obviously put a lot of detail into today’s attire.

And he was enjoying it far too much to ruin it for her.

After cheese pizza, they hopped back in a taxi and went to Broadway.

She didn’t even ask where they were going.

Instead, she wore a look of eager anticipation. He considered that a huge step for someone who didn’t like surprises.

The taxi dropped them at the door to the Phantom of the Opera house. Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“We have tickets for the two o’clock showing.”

She beamed.

“Since you don’t like surprises,” he said. “I’ll go ahead and tell you the plan so you know what to expect. After this, we’ll have drinks at the Rainbow Room followed by dinner.”

That part of his plan, at least, they could keep.

She put her arm on his, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Once they had made their way to their seats, he took her hand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “about last night.”

“What do you have to be sorry about?”

“You asked me a question I wasn’t ready to answer. I didn’t want to ruin the mood. But I owe it to you to answer questions you might have. And I will. I’ll tell you what happened tonight.”

“I should be the one apologizing. You obviously weren’t ready to talk about it. Whatever it was that happened, I’m sure you had a good reason. Anyway, I don’t want to ruin the mood either.”

“Sounds like we’re on the same page. When you’re ready to know, I’m ready to tell you.”

“That means a lot.”

Noah preferred a good movie with a storyline he could understand to singing he couldn’t. But halfway through, Savannah was moved to tears. He had to admit that the special effects were quite impressive.

“What do you think?” she asked at intermission.

“I don’t dislike it,” he said.

She laughed.

“If you want to stretch your legs, I’ll buy us a drink,”

A few minutes later, they returned to their seats with glasses of red wine.

“This should make it much better,” he said.

She shook her head. “Only spoken by the guy from Ft. Worth.”

“What can I say? We had rodeos, not operas.”

After the play, they went to the Rainbow Room for drinks as he had promised. Savannah ordered a cosmopolitan – with olives and he ordered a crown on the rocks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said.

“I never once imagined us here.”

“I knew our paths would cross again.”

That elicited that look again. The one that said perhaps he should be on an antipsychotic medication.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I would have looked you up. And you have to admit I’m a pretty good detective.”

“You did find me in New York. And I am impressed by that. But I gave you enough clues. Do you know how hard it is to find someone without clues?”

“You could have found me.”

“Really? Tell me how.”

“You knew I was from Ft. Worth. You knew my parents’ names – unless you forgot, which is quite natural. And you knew I was a pilot.”

“Actually, that wasn’t enough.”

“No?”

“No. I looked for you.”

“It’s ok,” he said. “It wasn’t your job to find me. It was my job to find you.”

“Anyway,” she said, tipping the lime into her glass and sliding an olive off the toothpick into her mouth. “I’ve always had a gut feeling that it had something to do with the summons from your father that weekend.”

“The summons.”

“Am I right?”

“You are exactly right.”

“What was it about?”

He stirred his drink.

“You said you’d answer. But if you don’t it’s ok.”