Love in New York ; Cherish My Heart Read online

  * * *

  Susan sat comfortably on the sofa in her living room. The fact that Minette had walked her all over Manhattan and she could barely get up was beside the point. The curtains were open and the lights of the city helped to soothe her. A cup of tea was close to her hand, and her laptop rested on her knees. As Jerome had taught her, she reviewed the photos she’d taken that day. There were many of Minette, Rockefeller Center, the skyline from the top of the Empire State Building and other places they had visited, but time and again she returned to the photo of André.

  He was smiling as he walked toward her. The photo felt so real. Susan could almost see him step out of it and speak to her. She’d had these kinds of photos before. Jerome called them wall images. As raw images, they were ready for framing. Susan smiled at the man in the picture. The sun was high and warm, and he walked east. Sunlight illuminated his features, showing the brightness of his brown eyes and the breadth of his strong shoulders.

  Susan put the photo down and concentrated on the view. Moments later, André Thorn was back on her mind. Why did she keep thinking of him? She hadn’t been this conscious of a man in a long while. Not with the secret she held. The only person who knew her real identity was Jerome. Susan had been careful to keep to herself and not get involved in any relationship. She couldn’t trust anyone. The deluge of scam artists who had run her out of the country would return if she let her secret out.

  Going back to the photo, she frowned. She wondered what it would be like to have a relationship and if this was the man she wanted to include in her life. She knew she couldn’t do it, but a small fantasy wouldn’t hurt anything.

  * * *

  André set his briefcase on the floor, next to his desk, and slipped into his chair. He didn’t turn his computer on or even reach across the expanse of his clean desk to snag a pencil from its leather cup. His mind was on Susan. Was she in? He glanced at the computer but refused to go so far as to look at the store’s personnel schedule. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since he had seen her on the street, in front of the store, two days ago. Seeing her holding that camera, and the fact that he had felt her words had been guarded, had disturbed him.

  André didn’t know why it bothered him or why she seemed to invade his thoughts. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night and looked the camera up on the internet. A long whistle had escaped him when the price had drawn his attention.

  He swiveled around in the chair, facing the windows, but not noticing the light or the world outside. The lines between his eyes deepened as he wondered who’d given Susan a camera that amounted to a small mortgage? And she lived at a very expensive address. That could be the result of having several roommates, he rationalized. André had lived with roommates when he’d been in college. Although his parents were wealthy, they had wanted him to understand the reality of a budget, so as soon as he had been able to afford it, he’d moved into his own apartment. But roommates didn’t explain that pricey camera.

  Before he could investigate it any further, his watch poked a silent reminder against his arm. André checked the time. After standing up, he left for his usual morning walk around the building.

  The bakery staff had been in for hours and they were adding pastries to the glass cases as he went by. Katie handed him a cup of coffee, as she’d done five days a week since he began working in the store. While his movements weren’t strictly by the clock, the coffee was always hot and exactly the way he liked it. Thanking her with a raise of his cup, he smiled and continued on in silent friendship.

  Passing through fine jewelry, shoes and handbags, André moved fluidly from department to department. There were few people working at this hour, so he didn’t expect to see Susan, yet he purposely didn’t go to the furniture department until he was on his way back to his office. He heard her before seeing her. Immediately his heart leaped. Not a large leap; only a tremor, but he was so unprepared for it that it felt like he’d fallen off the top of the building.

  He should leave. The escalator wasn’t working yet. The system worked on a timer and wouldn’t kick in for another forty-five minutes. André turned just as she came out of a storage area. Her arms held several small boxes, but her hand was to her ear as she spoke into a cell phone. Her eyes opened wide when she saw him, and she lowered her voice and turned away from him.

  He didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but he was close enough to hear her side of the conversation. It appeared she was making a date with someone. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with him.

  “André,” Susan said.

  She slipped the phone into the pocket of the lavender jacket she wore over a pair of white pants. The expression on her face told him nothing. After a moment, a smile replaced the unreadability of her features. It affected him in ways he didn’t want to describe—not even to himself.

  “I heard you do a walk-around every morning,” she said.

  “You’re here a little early yourself,” he said.

  She put all but one of the boxes down and walked over to him.

  “I wanted to get these candles out before the store opened.”

  She lifted the box so he could see it better. It was small and white and had a photo of a lit candle on the side. André could smell their scent, even through the packaging.

  “There’s so much traffic here these days, we don’t get any time to do much other than sell.”

  “That’s good,” André said. He’d seen the numbers from the furniture department, and since Susan had joined the staff, there had been a marked improvement in revenue from that area. He couldn’t give all of the credit to Susan, but she had changed things in the store, and by all accounts, she was a very likable person.

  So why did André have the feeling that she was hiding behind a mask? For a moment, he thought of a possible criminal element. It wouldn’t be the first time an employee had been motivated to steal. But looking into her eyes, he was sure larceny didn’t fit her profile.

  But what did?

  * * *

  At seven o’clock the elevator doors slid open. Susan lifted her foot and stopped. André stood at the back of the small cab. Immediately her heart thumped. Why did she react this way whenever she saw him? As he looked up and his light brown eyes connected with hers, she stepped into the tiny space, feeling sorry now that she’d stayed back to rearrange some of the furniture in her area. Most of the shoppers had gone and the department was quiet, so she had no choice except to be confined in the elevated room with him, for the length of a ride to the ground floor.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, pushing away from the back wall and standing up straight.

  “I’m sure you know how sales are,” she said, without any censure in her voice.

  “I get reports, but how is it going for you?”

  “I’ve been here a while now, but it’s still hard to spend the entire day on my feet.”

  He looked down at her shoes. Susan followed his gaze.

  “I’m sure you didn’t work in those.”

  She smiled at her tennis shoes. “I left my work shoes in my locker.”

  “But you took the camera bag.”

  She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “As you know, it’s a hobby of mine.”

  The doors opened and they both stepped out. Susan turned toward the employee exit. It was thirty feet down the corridor and only a few steps from the subway.

  She’d taken about ten steps when André called her name.

  She turned back, watching as he jogged toward her.

  “Are you in a hurry to leave?”

  “I thought I’d get some pictures before the light changes,” she said, hesitatingly. It was summer and the evening light cast a golden glow on the buildings. She didn’t know what she should do. “Was there something you wanted?” she asked.

  “Not really. I was going to invite you for a cup of coffee.”
r />   It was social, she thought; it had nothing to do with work. Susan had run a small business, but she knew the president of the company didn’t concern himself with hiring and firing sales people.

  “Are you sure you want to trust me with a hot liquid?”

  He smiled and looked at the floor, before bringing his attention back to her. She smiled too.

  “I’ll risk it,” he said.

  Susan nodded. She knew it wasn’t a good idea. The company’s president and a salesclerk from the furniture department... The situation came to her mind, reminding her of some black-and-white movie she’d watched years ago. Still she said, “I have time.”

  They went to a small coffee shop across the street from the building. When André had gotten their coffees and they had sat down at a table for two, near the windows, she looked at him.

  “I thought we’d go to the restaurant,” she said, glancing across the street, to the store. All the Thorn stores had a four-star restaurant inside them.

  “Here, I’m unavailable for interruptions.”

  She nodded, understanding. “I take it you’re interrupted often.”

  “Occupational hazard,” he said, but his smile took the sting out of his words. How did you happen to come to work at Thorn’s?” he asked.

  “I needed something to do. I’ve only recently moved to the city.”

  He leaned forward and Susan was sorry she’d said that. It opened her up to the obvious question, and André stepped right in and asked it.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “I was in France for a while.”

  “Studying?” His brows rose.

  She nodded, not really committing to a definite answer.

  “Judging by how you are constantly carrying a camera case, I assume you have a lot of photos from the City of Lights.”

  “I do. But Paris is a lot like New York City. Every picture you take is already on a postcard.”

  He laughed at that and Susan took a sip of her coffee before continuing. “I love the energy of New York City, and every minute is different here. The light changes, and the scene offers an entirely different photo.”

  “You like it,” he stated.

  She nodded. “Probably as much as you like the store.” She paused. “I’ve been told you’re a workaholic. Always in the office or on the floors.” She tried to turn the conversation away from her.

  “Guilty,” he said, and she saw the color in his face darken. “I’ve been in stores since I was born, practically.”

  Susan waited for him to go on. She knew part of the story. There was a picture book full of anecdotes and photos pertaining to the origins of the House of Thorn. But a personal account would be far different.

  “My mother actually started the business, and she remains the principle stockholder.”

  Susan glanced at the huge building across the street. “What did she do?”

  “She was a stay-at-home mom at the time. She told us she always wanted to be a master chef, and she was a good cook. I remember having some of the best meals.”

  “Was she experimenting on you?”

  “Not exactly,” André said. “She was a great cook even before we were born. She said her father taught her how to cook. When we went to school, she started out selling cakes from our kitchen. We lived in DC then.”

  “Is there a DC store?”

  He nodded. “Eventually the business grew so large that she couldn’t maintain it in the house. She rented a small store and added ice cream and cold drinks to her menu. We still have that store, and that’s all it sells. The main store in DC is downtown.”

  Susan had seen it. When she had first returned to the US, she’d visited Washington, DC, spending a few days as a tourist and reuniting with her family in Montana.

  “After a few years, my father quit his job as a retail salesman to join her. Tired of the road and being away from his family, he was ready for a change, and my mother’s businesses needed help. After that, Thorn’s branched out, and here we are today.”

  “How many stores are there?”

  “Five, one for each of us.”

  “I thought there were only three brothers.” She tripped up again, revealing that she knew something of his family.

  “Technically, that’s true. The other two are cousins. They came to live with us when their parents died.”

  “I’m sorry,” Susan said. She hadn’t known about the deaths.

  André reached across and placed his hand on hers. “Thank you,” he said.

  Susan wanted to move her hand, but that would make it appear that she didn’t want his touch, and the opposite was the truth. She liked the feel of his hand on hers. It had strength and confidence, and it made her feel safe. That made no sense, she told herself. She couldn’t get involved with this man.

  She looked at her hand.

  André removed his.

  Susan felt a weight lift from her, and not just from her hand. Her shoulders felt lighter, as if an invisible blanket had slid from her neck to the floor. She let out a controlled breath.

  “Tell me about you. How did you come to work at Thorn’s?”

  The truth, she wondered, or some made-up story. She couldn’t tell him the complete and honest truth.

  “It wasn’t my intention.”

  His brows rose. Susan smiled. “When I first moved here, I shopped a lot.” She watched his expression change to pride. “I needed practically everything for the apartment. While looking for linens one day, I saw an ad saying you were hiring.”

  “So you applied and got the job,” he suggested.

  She was shaking her head before he could finish the sentence. “I left the store. Two days later I was back, and as I passed the customer-service area, someone mistook me for an applicant and handed me a paper to fill out.”

  “You did it on a whim?” André laughed.

  “Almost. I knew I wanted a job. Once I had the application, I applied and I got hired.” André was quiet after she had finished. “I’m sure this isn’t the usual story you get from employees.”

  He shook his head. “Most tell me how glad they are to be working here.”

  “Do you believe them?”

  “Some of them. Those who really need a job are grateful. Those who are here to keep food on the table until they find something different are often obvious, but I don’t mind.”

  “You’ve never been one of them?” Susan posed it as a question, but she knew he’d grown up with plenty of money and had never wanted for food. Neither had she...wanted for food, that is. Her family was more middle-class—comfortable, but not able to get everything they wanted.

  “I’ve never been hungry, yet I did work for a while on opening a fast-food restaurant.”

  “Really?” Surprise showed in Susan’s voice.

  “High school rebellion. I thought I knew it all. My parents didn’t protest much. They gave me an argument, but I persevered. At least I thought I did.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They knew it would likely fail. It wasn’t a popular hamburger joint, just a new start up with a limited menu and none of the marketing savvy of the big guys. But I had to learn that for myself.”

  Susan understood that. She’d put everything she’d had into her business, and she had taken pride in it, but she had learned a lot about how hard it was to maintain a business. So much could go wrong. She had also learned a lot about the dark side of human nature.

  “Other than working with the public on an up-close-and-personal basis, I met people who had not had the advantages in life that I had. It made me appreciate more what my parents provided for me.”

  “Great lesson,” she said. “Is the fact that the store is so charitable an outcome of your teenage discovery?”

  “Partly. My parents said we should give back to
the community, but it became more than words after my experience.”

  “I salute you.” Susan held her nearly empty coffee cup up, and the two clinked their cups as if they were champagne flutes.

  “All right, I’ve given you my story. What about you?”

  Time to go, Susan thought. She finished the last of her coffee. It was cold, but she managed not to frown. “That’ll have to wait until another time,” she said. “I really have to go now.”

  “Pictures?” he asked.

  “An appointment.” She intended to be vague. She had no appointment. The truth was she didn’t want to lie to André. She couldn’t say why. The lies had been repeated so often that she had no problem saying them with conviction. But she didn’t want to lie to him.

  “Maybe we can do this again.”

  “Maybe.” Again, she did not commit.

  They both rose and Susan grabbed her camera case. It was an old one, banged up from years of use, but it was made of quality leather, and even with the nicks from overuse, it was still holding up.

  They left together. “Good night,” she said. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “I’m glad you took the job, even if it wasn’t in your plans.”

  “Plans change all the time,” she said. Then, smiling, she turned and walked away.

  André watched her. She felt it and she turned at the first corner, even though that wasn’t the way to the subway. Plans change all the time. The words came back to her. Whose plans? Was she bending? Why hadn’t she answered his question about herself? Why hadn’t she just given him the passel of lies she’d told everyone, except Jerome?

  And why was she even thinking about him? She worked for his company, and that alone was reason enough for her to forget everything about the House of Thorn family.

  But as she walked down the steps to the subway, she knew that plan needed an alteration.

  Chapter 3

  Susan blew out a long breath and dropped her shoulders. She was finally alone. She couldn’t think with all of the activity that went through the furniture department and the transitions to the other areas of the store. Furniture, bedding and bathroom accessories took up one entire floor. The amount of people walking back and forth kept her mind off André and their coffee the night before. So far, today she hadn’t seen him. She had a clear view of the elevator, and each time the elevator door pinged, she braced for him to exit.