I stifled a smile, clutching his jacket tighter around me.
“Honey...” It was the first time I’d ever used the word, and he perked up with that as well. “Do you want to maybe get out of the fountain? We can get you dried off?”
His lips twitched, but he remained stationary. Lying there like some kind of water-logged Greek god, caught off guard and drowned on a hunting trip. Riddled with condiments.
“What’s the point,” he sighed. “He got away.”
The crowd tittered, and I tried not to grin. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how despondent he might actually feel—it was like the guy couldn’t stop performing.
“Just because he got away, doesn’t mean you have to die of hypothermia.” I thought it was a pretty solid argument—the logic was sound. “Why don’t you...paddle this way, and you and I can catch a cab back to the Upper East Side.”
One eye opened, followed by another.
“The Upper East Side?” he repeated questioningly. “Isn’t that where we are?”
I shook my head regrettably. “I’m afraid you left Manhattan entirely. By now, we’re probably somewhere in Queens.”
The crowd tittered some more, and even Nick had to smile as he pulled himself slowly to his feet and began wading my way. It was then that the tittering gave way to genuine shock as some people recognized him, and those who didn’t, were bowled away by his body nonetheless.
What the fuck was this? Some kind of secret photo shoot? A social experiment in the making? See how long you can keep from touching the models?
As usual, Nick was either oblivious or immune. I, for one, kept it together until he stepped onto the sidewalk beside me, leaving freezing pools of water in his wake.
“You look like James Bond,” I comforted. “You know, if James Bond worked somewhere in the Arctic, liked hot dogs, and fell down a lot.”
Nick flashed me a wry smile, one that failed to reach his eyes.
“That’s funny—you look like you lost all your clothes in a game of Strip Poker.”
Simple, yet direct.
I nodded briskly, eager to put the whole chase scene behind us. The publicist in me kicked in, and I was suddenly well aware that we had an audience of eager on-lookers.
“Well, that’s what happens when you lose your pants in a boxing ring.” I extended my hand with a bright smile. “Shall we?”
Cold as he was, even Nick had to smile in return. He lifted a hand to wave at the cheering crowd, before the two of us draped our arms around each other and headed off to find a cab.
A task much easier said than done...
For the record, taxis don’t like to stop for passengers who are soaking wet. And they really don’t like to stop for passengers who are soaking wet and mostly naked. It wasn’t until Nick reached into his suit jacket that I was wearing and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, that someone finally pulled to the curb.
At last, the freezing nightmare was behind us. Our getaway vehicle had just arrived.
A look of relief lit Nick’s face as he held open the door for me. “Care to head back to my apartment? We can get you warmed up and maybe...maybe pick up where we left off?”
My first thought was to say yes. Honestly, my first thought was to jump on top of him the second we got into the cab. But between the crowd listening anxiously behind him, and the fact that I was still dressed in nothing but a garter and a man’s coat, something changed my mind.
“You know, I should probably head home,” I answered quietly. “It’s been...it’s been a long night. I want to get some sl
eep if we’re getting together again tomorrow.”
Nick hesitated in surprise, and I realized that he hadn’t, for a single moment, considered the fact that I might say no. He recovered himself well, and nodded quickly—opening the door wider so I could slip into the cab. He would take the next one right behind us.
“Yes, of course.” He passed a large bill through the grate before I could stop him, and stepped back to pat the thing on the hood. “Brooklyn, please.”
I rolled down the window, as the driver started pulling away—gazing out at my watery Adonis as he stood by the side of the curb. I handed him more money from the suit pocket so he could get home.
“You can ride with me,” I said.