Love Not at First Sight by Sarah Ready

17

Veronica

I give Sam a hesitant smile.I didn’t really have a plan for what I’d do or say after I climbed into his office. About three-quarters of the way up I was just praying that he’d actually be in his office.

I take in the sight of him. I’ve never seen him in person looking like this. In the clearing, and even in the hospital, he was still covered in bruises and cuts, dirt, he had a beard and messy hair. The full effect of him as Frederick Knight wasn’t there. Now…it is.

He’s in a man of New York kind of outfit. Tailored and expensive. His hair is trimmed perfectly and he’s close shaven. All the bruises and scrapes have healed. The swelling is gone. He looks just like the man from the magazine covers. A thick lower lip, long eyelashes, a firm jaw, eyes that are made for seduction. Wide shoulders and defined muscles you can see even through his shirt. For a moment, the fear comes back and he looks like a stranger again. A billionaire player that seduces models and actresses and pours champagne on women in hot tubs.

Then I look closer. See the expression in his eyes.

He’s looking at me like I’m the only light in the darkest night. Like I’m the first star he’s seen and he’s making his heart’s greatest wish.

I step forward, move toward this man that looks like…like the man who loves me. And the man that I love.

He reaches out, then drops his hands, closes them into fists. I see on his wrist the watch that he wore in the cave. The one he gave me so I could find my way out. He wanted me to live. Even if it meant he’d die alone. Seeing that watch fills me with determination. This is right. I’m not afraid anymore.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

I look into his eyes. They’ve shuttered and I think he’s concerned that somehow I’m going to reject him or hurt him again. Or maybe I was mistaken and it wasn’t love I saw. That he’s written me off and that’s why he hasn’t pulled me into his arms.

I’m shaking and I can’t tell if it’s because my muscles are fatigued or because I’m scared that he’s going to ask me to leave. But I can’t stop now. I have to move forward. I pray he wants to move forward with me.

“What are you doing?” he asks again, and my heart squeezes at the way he says it. Questioning, cautious, without the love in his voice that I remember.

“Oh,” I say and I shrug, determined to keep going. “You know. Just hanging out.”

I bite my bottom lip and silently push him to remember.

His brow lowers and he looks confused. Then his eyes clear and the beginnings of a smile forms on his lips.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

“Yup. Just hanging out. In the outside world.”

His eyes turn from hazel to a clear happy green. And a place deep inside me responds to his look and unfurls with shining joy.

“I’m Veronica Diaz,” I say. I hold out my hand.

His eyes crinkle and he steps forward, takes my hand in his. I feel his touch to the depths of my soul. I draw in a ragged breath. He looks at me and I can tell that he feels it too.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, still holding my hand. Then, “I’m Frederick Knight.”

He gives a half-smile and my heart breaks for him. At the way he says his name and the way he looks at me when he does, like he’s asking me to accept him.

“Nice to meet you, Frederick,” I say.

He lets out a shaky breath. “My friends call me Sam,” he says. And the man he was and the man he is come together and I see him just as he is.

“Sam,” I repeat.

We stand for a moment just looking at each other. I drink him in, the feel of his hand in mine. This is right.

Then he drops my hand and puts both his hands in his pockets.

I frown at the chill I feel when he lets go.

“Well…” I say, and then I swallow down the lump in my throat. I just want to throw myself in his arms and never let go.

“Well,” he repeats.

He looks around his office. I do too. It’s large. There’s a glass and chrome desk, leather chairs, a seating area with a couch, a mini-bar. The only noise is the ticking of the clock on the wall.

I nod. “Well…” I start again.

“I was wondering,” he says. He pauses. I watch as he swallows nervously, then, “You see, you just popped in and the second I saw you…I realized that you’re special and that I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and I wondered if you’d go to dinner with me?” He smiles at me and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

My heart turns over. He’s asking me.

I smile at him, and say, “No. No, thank you.”

He wipes the expression from his face. Looks at me in silence and doesn’t say anything at all.

Maybe I made a mistake, maybe he wasn’t going where I thought he was, wasn’t replaying the meeting we’d dreamed up. Was I wrong?

I watch the second hand of the stainless steel clock on the wall. I count ten seconds, fifteen, twenty, the whole while I pray…please remember, please remember. I’m about to say something, tell him I will, that I’ll go to dinner with him, I’ll go anywhere with him, when he turns around and strides out of his office.

The door shuts with a hard click.

He…left?

I let out a painful gasp and bend forward. I wrap my arms around my waist. He left. He left me. I grasp my waist and try to pull back the hurt, the shock, the…he didn’t remember. I made a mistake.

He left.

My coming here was a mistake.

I take a deep gasping breath, pull back the tears threatening and stand up straight. Wipe away a stray tear that escaped. I turn and look out the window. Walk to it and glance down. Should I climb back down or go out the office door? I think, since Sam didn’t say goodbye, he doesn’t want to see me again. I close my eyes and forcefully wipe away the tears that are falling freely.

I really messed up.

I turn to the door. I’ll walk out through the lobby. I can’t stay here any longer. I start for the door when it flings open. Sam rushes in then stops short when he sees me.

“You’re crying?”

I shake my head and wipe my eyes. “No,” I say.

He kicks the door shut. Then, I notice what he’s holding in his hands. Flowers. Pink roses, daisies, lavender, greenery, all mixed together in a beautiful bouquet.

He remembered.

I feel like the sun has come out and it’s shining down on me. I smile at him.

He looks down at the water dripping from the stems to the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry. I got them from reception. I didn’t have flowers with me…I…”

He holds them out to me. I take them and pull them to my chest. I bury my nose to them and smile into the roses.

“They’re perfect,” I whisper.

He nods. “I was wondering,” he says, “if you’d like to go to Central Park, we’ll climb the boulders, then, we could get coffee and cookies at this old Hungarian bakery near where I grew up. Tonight I can take you home and make you pasta. We’ll eat it on the roof deck, have wine, and watch the sun set over the river.”

I clasp the flowers and feel my heart swell.

He looks at me and nods. He watches as I bite my bottom lip.

“No, I don’t think so,” I say with a bright smile.

He smiles back. And then I feel it, the hope, the bright shining love that we have for each other.

“No?” he asks with a grin.

“No,” I say. “Get lost.”

“How about we go to Italy and climb the Dolomites? I’ll take you to a villa with a patio and an outdoor oven, we’ll drink Italian wine, and eat olives and fresh bread. I have a private jet, we could be there early tomorrow.”

I shake my head. “No. Leave me alone,” I say.

He nods. And we look at each other and share that same look we had when we made it out of the cave. Like we can take on the world and do anything as long as we’re together.

“Then how about…” He pauses and looks at me with a smile.

“Yes?” I ask, then I hold my breath.

“We could go on a walk?” he asks.

I let my breath out in a rush, start to breathe normally again.

I nod, urge him on.

He steps forward. “I’ll be me, and you’ll be you, and we’ll just walk. Together.”

He puts his hand gently to my cheek.

My heart leaps. I turn my head and press my lips into his palm.

“Together?”

He nods.

“Where would we go?” I ask.

“Wherever you like.”

“But we’d do it together?”

“That’s right.”

He strokes his thumb over my lips and I look into his eyes. They shine bright with love.

“How long is this walk?” I whisper.

His hand stills on me and he looks at me with all the hope in the world. “Long,” he says. “It starts right now and it goes on for the rest of our lives.”

“That sounds nice,” I say.

Then I drop the flowers and fling myself into his arms.

He grabs me, pulls me to him and captures my mouth with his. He buries his hands in my hair and kisses me. Then he pulls away. “I love you,” he says fiercely. I don’t have time to answer because he’s kissing me again. I’m pulling at his pants and he’s lifting my shirt. Soon, we’re naked. Bare to each other in the daylight.

“My word,” he says. “You’re beautiful.”

“I love you,” I say. “I love you so much.”

I drop to the couch in the corner of his office and he kneels over me. I run my hands over him, and he touches me reverently, strokes me everywhere. Then he covers my mouth with his and settles inside me. I cry out and he catches my cry with his mouth.

This. This I recognize. This I know.

He starts a rhythm that I remember. I move up to meet him and he moves forward to meet me. He pulls away and then comes back. I pull back and rock forward.

I grasp his shoulders, wrap my legs over his back, hang on as he pushes me higher.

He threads a hand through mine and sends his other hand into my hair. I tilt my chin up and capture his gaze. We stare into each other’s eyes as we rock back and forth.

“I see you,” I say.

“I know you,” he says.

“I love you,” I say.

I feel him thicken, pulse inside me, I feel the heat of him coming into me.

“I love you,” he says. “I love you.”

The sound of his voice, the look in his eyes, the feel of him inside me, it’s too much. I cry out, clench around him, the room, already bright, flashes with light. I grasp him, pull him to me and feel our hearts beat against each other as we fall down from the heights of the stars.

He’s still smiling into my eyes when my breathing slows and my heartbeat calms. He places a kiss on the tip of my nose, and over each eyebrow, then a sweet long kiss on my lips.

“I could get used to this,” I say.

“You better,” he says. Then he turns on his side and wraps me in his arms. We lay together and memorize the feel of each other again. After a few hours and a few more rounds of lovemaking, we slip back into our clothing.

“What now?” I ask.

He smiles and holds out his hand. I take it.

“How about a walk in Central Park, some coffee and cookies from a Hungarian bakery I know?”

He stands and I step into his arms.

“Mmm. That sounds nice. And then how about we have pasta and wine on the roof?”

“And then?” he asks.

I shrug. “Shower and bed?”

A spark enters his eyes and I can tell that he’s thinking about skipping the walk and bakery and dinner and going straight to shower and bed.

I grin up at him.

“I’m going to marry you,” he says. “You know that, right?”

Happiness blossoms in me, pure and light. I look down at our linked hands and I thank the twist of fate that brought us together.

“Good.” I smile up at him, the man I love. “Let’s go for that walk.”