Page 34 of Gilded Princess

I made plans with Leo to visit my favorite frozen yogurt place and walk through Central Park tonight when it’s closer to dusk. There’s a fun a cappella group that gets together to perform at night, so I suggested we check it out when we texted this morning.

I twist my hair off my neck as I wait at the end of the block for the crosswalk sign to flash. The sun beats down on me, and I’m thankful that I tossed on a lightweight tee. Hot air blows across my neck, and I stretch it from left to right to work out some of the tension.

A horn blares to my right, triggering a chorus of horns and grabbing my attention. Panicked shouts pull my attention to the left, but before I can fully turn to look, hands curl over my shoulders and yank me backward into something hard. Yells and shrieks split the air, and I stare wide-eyed at the space I was standing five seconds ago.

An overeager cab driver barrels through the parking lane and swerves to avoid a parked car. He must have over-corrected the wheel, because somehow, he ended up on the curb of the sidewalk—exactly where I was standing.

My heart thunders in my ears, threatening to drown out all sound. Women yell and two men hammer their fists on the hood of the car, curses falling from their mouths faster than I can process.

The cab driver shouts something with his hands in the air, and then floors it. The tires squeal and burnt rubber marks the sidewalk a foot from where I was standing. He takes off, weaving in and out of traffic, and after a moment, he’s lost in a sea of yellow-hooded cars.

“What the hell was that?” My whisper is lost in a chorus of curses and New Yorkers bemoaning the shitty cab drivers. I press a hand to my hammering heart.

I spin around to face my savior, intent on thanking him or her profusely, but the words die on my lips as my gaze connects with a familiar hazel one.

“Matteo,” I breathe his name, expelling a shaky breath.

He brushes a lock of hair off my face, his gaze roaming me as if he’s looking for injuries. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks to you.” On an impulse, I step forward and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him close. “Thank you, Matteo. Jesus, I would’ve gotten hit by a car if you weren’t there. You—you saved me.”

My head feels light with the knowledge that fate was on my side today. If Matteo had been five seconds later, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.

Fate’s a tricky mistress on her best days. Why does it feel like she’s purposely putting Matteo and I together? And why now?

Whatever the reason, I’m grateful for it today.

My nose presses against the soft fabric of his suit jacket, and I inhale the familiar smell of sandalwood, only it’s darker, richer now. Nostalgia sprinkles into my psyche, and for the first time in a long time, something warm and thoughtful nestles inside of me when I think of Matteo.

His hands slide up my back, his arms holding me tight to his chest. “Timing is everything, Cherry.”

I allow myself to bask in his warmth for another moment before I pull away, letting my hands slide down his arms. I’m not too proud to admit it’s with some reluctance.

That thought alone has guilt slithering in my veins.

Leo.

In my peripheral vision, I see the light change to green and I take another step back, away from him. “Thanks again. I have to go.” I flash him a small smile and hook my thumb over my shoulder.

He nods as he slides his hands into his pockets, the move stretching the fabric of his navy blue suit pants across his thighs. He’s a man who wears a suit well, and he knows it. I swear I hear a few women sigh as they walk in the space between us, obscuring my view of him in flashes.

I allow myself one single moment where I imagine a life where I don’t have to hold myself back, where he didn’t break my heart and I didn’t still harbor a small spark of something in my heart for him.

And when he tips his chin up and flashes me that ten-thousand-dollar smile, as my mom would say, I know with no uncertain clarity that he’d be lethal for me.

Because he did break my heart, and yet, here I am, ready to let him wrap his arms around me and trick me into believing everything is perfect. Right before he rips my heart out. Again.

I’m a different woman now, though. Hell, I bet I could have some fun with Matteo without letting him into my heart.

When a trio of giggling socialites passes between us, deliberately stopping in front of him to drop something, I take it as my cue. I spin on my heel, my lightly curled hair swinging out around me with the motion, and quicken my steps.

I wait until I’m safely on the other side of the crosswalk before I glance over my shoulder. Matteo’s gone, only the giggling girls remain in the spot he was, and I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed.

Ten minutes later, Blue Lotus Café is in view. I’m already mentally ordering a cheeseburger and watermelon lemonade in my head when I feel another hand on my shoulder.

A split-second later, I feel something cold and metal prodding my lower back, and any warm feelings or thoughts of Matteo flee.

A tingle of fear ripples down my spine as everything around me zeros in on the unwanted touch.

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