“That’s okay, Mari. Sometimes childhoods aren’t all balloons and chasing leaves in the park,” he said, moving a little closer to me.

  “It wasn’t all bad. I told you about my grandmother. She made it wonderful. I loved seeing her on weekends and getting into trouble that my parents wouldn’t let me get into,” I said. “And you? Any happy memories from your childhood?” I was pushing him again, but I didn’t think he was going to run.

  “Ah, let’s see.” He thought for a while, and I wondered if it was hard for him to find a happy memory, or if he was just trying to choose the right one.

  “When I was eight, my parents threw a party for the company. It was one of those dreadful theme events, completely over the top and ostentatious. I don’t even remember what the theme was, but there was an elephant and they were giving rides. My parents had allowed me to attend for an hour or so, just to parade me out and show what a happy family we were.” His smile was grim.

  “So I was allowed to ride the elephant once. The handler picked me up and put me on the elephant’s back in this little seat, and I remember being terrified of being so high. I had a fear of heights at the time, but having the giant animal under me somehow was comforting. And then he moved and I lurched forward, and I thought I was going to die. I probably screamed and then the elephant kept moving and I was powerless to stop him. And then I looked up and saw everything stretched out in front of me and how small my father and my grandfather looked. I was looking down at them, for the first time.”

  He stopped and then shrugged one shoulder. “It was probably the last time I would ever really look down on them.” Now I wanted to hug him again.

  “Well, this is a night for morbid stories, isn’t it?” I said with a bit of a laugh.

  “Seems so. But I feel … okay telling you about that. I’ve never told anyone that particular story.” Not one of the girls he’d hired? I thought about asking, but decided not to. I didn’t want to talk about them. I wanted to talk about him.

  I shared another story, this one about a cat I had that had died and my parents had tried to replace it with a nearly identical cat, hoping I wouldn’t notice.

  We talked until the sun started peeking over the horizon and the day began.

  I paid dearly for my night spent with Fin the next day, and I barely made it through classes and my charity meeting. But it wasn’t all bad news. I’d found a tent company and persuaded them to rent it to us for free for the Adopt-A-Pet day for the Animal Rescue League of Boston charity event. I’d also gotten an email from one of my regular clients who wanted to host a candle party as part of a bridal shower, so at least I’d be making some money this week.

  But hovering in the back of my mind was the knowledge that Fin would be leaving on Friday. He refused to tell me what time his flight left, but I was determined to find out and also accompany him to the airport.

  I called Chloe in the early afternoon. I was hopped up on too much coffee and anxiety over Fin.

  “Oh my God, you’re alive,” she said, making me want to roll my eyes.

  “Chlo, it’s only been twenty-four hours since I last texted you.” I loved her, but she definitely liked keeping close tabs on me.

  “I know, but you’ve been hanging out with Fin and I need to have details. Plus, I miss you when you’re gone, and I don’t have anyone to talk to. What are you doing right now?” That was a lot to process before I could answer.

  “I know. I miss you too, Chlo. Um, see you maybe tomorrow? I could squeeze in a quick lunch. Or, you could be my hero and come to my candle party and be my assistant.” She’d done it before and had proven herself a fantastic salesperson.

  “Can I say yes to both?”

  “Absolutely. Listen, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow at 12? Eddie’s?” It was our favorite sandwich place just off-campus.

  “You’re on.”

  I hung up and headed to the library to get some work done. My plan was to put as much off until after Fin had left because I was probably going to need a mental distraction, and homework would be perfect to accomplish that when he was gone.

  But for right now I did the bare minimum to get by.

  We were seeing each other tonight, and I hoped I’d make it there awake. He was used to staying up all night, but I could only go a day or two without proper sleep. Then I crashed.

  Downing my umpteenth cup of coffee, I got down to work, wondering if I could tape my eyelids open.

  Fin arrived at my door that evening as fresh and crisp as if he’d had a full night’s sleep, but I knew he hadn’t. He’d had a full day of work just like me.

  “How do you look this good?” I asked as he handed me another bouquet of lilacs.

  He just smiled in response to my question and then produced a clear glass purple vase from his other hand.

  “I remembered you didn’t have one, so I thought I’d pick one up for you. And can I say that you look lovely this evening.”

  I knew I didn’t. I’d had a wardrobe crisis since the dress I wanted to wear I couldn’t find, and by the time I did find it, there was no time to iron the creases out of it, so I’d had to go with a backup dress. And then there hadn’t had been much time to fix my hair, so I’d pinned it back in a bun and done the bare minimum of makeup, concentrating mostly on the puffiness and circles under my eyes.

  “I look pretty crappy, but you’re sweet. So, what are we doing tonight?” He walked to my kitchen, filled the vase with water, and then put the lilacs in it.

  “Well, tonight you have two options, depending on how you feel.” He held up two fingers.

  “Okay, hit me. What are the choices?”

  “Option one, we go out to dinner and then a late showing of the classic movie Casablanca followed by dessert. Or, option two, we could have dinner at my place, have a private showing of Casablanca, and then have dessert.”

  “So Casablanca and food are involved either way? What about sex?”

  A smile flitted across his face. “Well, sex is only involved if you’re up for it. We don’t have to have sex every night.” I stepped closer to him and grabbed the lapels on his jacket.

  “Says who? We only have a few days left and I want to make the most of them. With you.”

  He looked down at me and smiled darkly. “Then we should make the most of them,” he said, kissing my forehead.

  After some deliberation as we walked down to his car, we decided to go back to his apartment. Besides, it would be a lot easier and less frowned upon to make out at his abode than in the movie theater. Not that the idea didn’t also have an appeal. But I was tired, and his place was a more comfortable place to fall asleep than a movie theater.

  “So what are we having for dinner?” I asked as Carl drove us to Fin’s place.

  “That is up to you. I have an extensive collection of menus from the city’s finest establishments, and some of the not so fine ones, and you get to pick. Since I hijacked your Scrabble game and all.” He squeezed my hand and I gave him a quick kiss, breaking it off before it could turn into something else. I did have a fantasy of him having his way with me in a cab, but I didn’t think I could ever look at Carl again if we did that just now.

  “So you’re ceding control of the meal planning to me?” I tried to raise one eyebrow but failed. I’d never been able to do that.

  “I am. One thing at a time, Cherry. I’m trying.” He was. He was really trying to open up to me. I couldn’t ask for much more than that.

  I cuddled closer to him as Carl pulled in front of Fin’s building.

  “One thing at a time,” he whispered before getting out of the car and holding out his hand to help me.

  Fin wasn’t lying. He had what seemed like hundreds of restaurant menus, all organized in a drawer in his kitchen. I fanned them out on the counter and stared.

  “This is hard,” I said.

  “Well, when I’m trying to make a decision, I first try to find out what I don’t want and go from there.” I’d used that me
thod myself.

  “Okay, I don’t feel like Chinese,” I said, discarding those menus. “And nothing that’s too hard to eat, or too spicy.” I discarded those menus as well.

  I was left with twenty, which was still a large number. Fin hovered near me, and I could tell he was dying to put in his two cents. Finally, I picked up all the menus and fanned them in my hand like playing cards.

  “Pick one,” I said.

  He shook his head and stepped back. “No, you’re picking.”

  “Well, I can’t make up my mind, and we’ll be sitting here all night. So pick one.” I shoved the menus at him and he sighed, as if I was asking him for a kidney.

  He scanned the leftover menus and then closed his eyes.

  “Okay, mix them up,” he said.

  “You want me to shuffle the menus?” He nodded, his eyes still closed, so I mixed them up as best I could and fanned them out again.

  “Pick one, I’m hungry,” I said as he groped for them. Finally, he got a hold of one and held it up.

  “Perfect. I was hoping it would be this one. They have amazing lobster bisque.” Damn, that sounded amazing. We leaned against the counter and studied the menu. I’d never been to this place before, mostly because it was a bit high on my price range. As soon as we decided, Fin called the restaurant and put in our order.

  “While we wait for that, I’m going to go and get everything set up for the movie. The bedroom is off limits for now. So feel free to go anywhere else in the house. But not the bedroom.”

  “Okaaaaayyyy,” I said, wondering what he needed to set up to watch a movie. A thrill also went through me at the thought of watching a movie with him in the enchanted bedroom. I’d put on sexy underwear, just in case, and I’d brought all the things I needed for tomorrow so I wouldn’t have to go back to my place before heading to class.

  I walked around the kitchen, noting how much different it was from mine, and not just in size. It was painstakingly organized. A place for everything and everything in its place.

  Walking through to the living room, I was struck again by the beautiful bookshelves. There was a pile of books on the coffee table and I rifled through them. Some were old with cracked leather bindings, some were brand new paperbacks. All on different subjects, fiction, non-fiction, everything.

  “You found my TBR pile,” he said, sneaking up behind me and putting his hands on my shoulders.

  “Your what?” I said, after I’d gotten my heart restarted.

  “My to-be-read pile. Well, one of them. Those are just the books I got from the library the other day that I have to finish before I go.” There were at least six books in the pile.

  “How in the hell are you going to finish all those books, work, and hang out with me? I mean, I know you hardly ever sleep, but still, that seems ambitious.” He shrugged one shoulder.

  “I’ll find time. I usually do.” An idea struck me that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of.

  “What happens to this place when you’re gone?”

  He sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “It’s looked after.” Well, that was vague.

  “So do you own properties all over? Or just this one?” I knew I was prying, but I wanted to know.

  “Just this one. I usually stay at hotels when I travel. It’s easier that way, because I never know where I’m going. It’s why I have so much stuff here, I think. Because I don’t get to take much with me, and I like knowing that my things, the stuff I cherish, is all in one place. Including you.” The last two words made my heart flutter and I ducked my head to hide a blush.

  “I’m going to miss you, Fin,” I said. I wasn’t going to cry. There was no need to cry. At least not right now. We still had a few days.

  We still had a few days. And nights. Couldn’t forget about those.

  “I’m going to miss you, Mari Cherry.” He tugged me close and gave me a hug that almost squeezed the air out of my lungs.

  “But let’s not think about goodbye now. The food should be here soon.” He stroked my hair and then kissed the tip of my nose.

  Gram used to tell me that the moments that were most important would stay with me. Would be so clear in my memories that I would never forget them, no matter what.

  The softness of Fin’s shirt against my fingers, the smell of his skin, the sound of his rough heartbeat, and the sigh of his breath. Those were all things that I knew would stick out in my memories, even years from now. Every detail of the room burned itself in my mind. Branded. Indelible as if I’d taken a picture.

  He sighed and tipped my face up to meet his eyes.

  And the doorbell rang.

  Fin and I carried the food containers and plates and utensils to his room.

  “What do you think?” The first thing I noticed was the projection screen, (not unlike those they used in my classes for Powerpoint presentations) he’d placed in front of his other television. The bed was laid out with two trays that we could prop over ourselves to hold the food. It was like he’d planned this whole thing, knowing that I would want to come to his place instead of going out.

  “It’s perfect. Just perfect.”

  “I also have this for you,” he said, holding up a robe. “So you don’t get anything on your dress. Or, I still have the pajamas you wore the other night. They’re fresh and clean.” Said pajamas were folded at the end of the bed.

  “I’ll only wear mine if you wear yours.” I didn’t even know if he had pajamas. I’d never seen them.

  Thinking for a moment, he set the food down on the bed and then went to his closet and closed the door. I took that to mean he was going to change. Also that his closet was large enough for someone to change their clothes in. Mine definitely wasn’t that big.

  Pulling open the door dramatically, he emerged in a pair of gray drawstring sweatpants and a threadbare t-shirt that had a faded college logo I couldn’t read.

  Trés sexy. No, sexy wasn’t even the right word for it. He was beyond sexy. Sexy multiplied to the umpteenth power.

  I opened and closed my mouth a few times and tried to form a sentence, but none would come to me.

  “I, um, I’ll go change,” I said, ducking my head and walking past him into the closet, shutting the door behind me.

  His closet was almost bigger than my bedroom, and even had a chair in it. Most of the space was taken up with jackets, pants, and button-down shirts, but there was a place for ties as well, many of them in varying shades of purple. The whole place was so meticulously organized, it kind of freaked me out. It looked like a closet museum. It was a good thing I let him see my place first before seeing his. Because I would have felt like shit about my place if I’d seen this first.

  Thinking I should probably hurry up before the food got cold, I reached behind me to undo my dress, cursing companies who made dresses that zipped in the back instead of on the side. I got the zipper up just fine, but couldn’t get the right angle on it to get it undone again.

  After a few futile moments of struggling, I pushed the door open.

  “I can’t get my damn dress undone,” I said, pointing to the offending zipper. “Are you laughing at me?”

  He shook his head and coughed into his hand, but he’d definitely been smirking about my dress difficulties.

  “No, I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Good. Then come and help me.” He raised one raven eyebrow perfectly and stalked toward me. I turned my back and waited.

  For a moment, he just stood behind me, his breath stirring my hair and the heat from his body warming my skin. And then one of his hands brushed my hair out of the way and over my shoulder while the other stroked the patch of skin just above the zipper.

  Well. That wasn’t what I had in mind. I just wanted to get my dress off and put on some comfy pajamas so I could eat my lobster bisque.

  His breath hitched for a moment before he gently pulled the zipper down, but he didn’t pull the dress from my shoulders.

  “There,” he said, steppin
g backwards. “If I do any more there won’t be movie watching or eating.” I nodded and numbly walked back into the closet and put my pajamas on, my skin still on fire from where he’d touched me.

  “So here’s a question for you,” I said as we got set up and Fin fiddled with his laptop and the projector to get it in the right place.

  “Yes?” He sat back and I set his tray on his side of the bed.

  “Seeing as how you have these trays and the projector and so forth, did you plan for this date, or have you, um, done this before?” I fiddled with my utensils to try and seem nonchalant.

  “You mean, have I done this with another woman? No. Absolutely not. I’ve never even had another woman in my bedroom besides you. And I never did this kind of thing when I did date other women. Mostly I’d take them out for fancy dinners, the opera, wine tastings. Standard activities. That was what they expected and that was what I gave them. But you’re different.”

  Good. I liked being different.

  “Well, for someone who is supposedly bad at dating, you’re doing a good job right now.”

  He smiled and then turned off the lights and started the movie.

  I’d seen Casablanca multiple times before, but watching it in the comfort of Fin’s bedroom with him and with food? Best. Night. Ever.

  “This food is fucking fantastic,” I said as I licked the last of the lobster bisque from my spoon. I hadn’t even started on my beef tenderloin with whipped potatoes and asparagus.

  Fin nodded, his mouth busy with his own meal of grilled swordfish. Dooley Wilson reluctantly sang “As Time Goes By” for Ingrid Bergman and I hummed along. It was one of my all-time favorite songs.

  “I love the version in Sleepless in Seattle by Jimmy Durante as well,” I said, leaning back on the pillows Fin had propped behind my back.

  “We should watch that one next time. It’s not quite old enough to be called a classic, but I still think it qualifies,” he said. I shifted closer to him so our shoulders touched, and he grinned at me.