Page 15 of Saving Stella

“Oh yeah.” She recalled telling him that the fall midterm break was coming up, and she was planning on staying home and doing some baking and reading.

“I’d really love it if you would come up, Stella. Don’t worry about the costs, you can stay with me or I can put you up in a hotel. I can even pay for your ticket.”

“No! I mean … it’s not about the money.”

“Oh.” Disappointment crossed his face. “I understand if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“It’s not … I …” What was stopping her anyway? He was her only living relation—as far as she knew—and why shouldn’t she visit him? When else would she feel comfortable? “I mean, yes, I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’d be honored to be there during your proposal.”

And so, two weeks later, she found herself in New York City.

Stella had never been to New York, though of course as a music lover, she’d always dreamed of watching a concert at Carnegie Hall, an opera at Lincoln Center, or a show on Broadway. She’d thought to do it someday, but there was just never a chance. When she was growing up, family vacations were usually road trips or going to the lake. And though she had a full ride in college thanks to scholarships and grants, any extra money she made giving piano lessons or working at the local diner went to her living expenses, so there wasn’t any extra for vacations.

Still, when her parents found out about the trip, they insisted in paying for her expenses, despite her protests. “He’s your brother, but we don’t want you to feel like you owe him,” Papa had said. “If he makes you feel uncomfortable, you can leave anytime.”

Stella was grateful for her parents’ help and insightfulness. Of course, with their modest budget, and New York City being so expensive, they could only afford a two-star hotel in Queens. The MTA app on her phone said it was a forty-five-minute commute from Queens to Harry Owens’s office in Midtown where she agreed to meet Devon and Charley. She used the time to sit quietly, watching the people getting in and out of the subway car at each stop, going about their day. When the car began to fill up with more passengers, she guessed they were getting closer to Manhattan. Sure enough, by the time the voice over the loud speakers announced the Fifty-third Street stop, the car was packed, and she had to squeeze her way out.

As soon as she stepped out of the subway station, she couldn’t help but look up. Sure, Las Vegas had some massive casinos, but they weren’t monolithic like the buildings around her. The skyscrapers stood shoulder to shoulder, and there were so many people around her—tourists, likely as she recalled that this stop was close to Fifth Avenue. According to her map app, she had to cross it in order to reach her destination, so she began to make her way toward the crowds of people. As she glanced up at the street signs to confirm she was headed in the right direction, a cry from behind started her.

“Ashley, no!”

Something small and fast—a toddler—darted out beside her and into the busy avenue. Stella wasn’t sure what happened, but before she knew it, she dashed after the child and scooped her up. The little girl let out a surprised yelp.

“There, there,” she cooed. “You’re fine.”

“Ashley!” A harried young mother stepped out from the sea of people and retrieved the child from Stella’s arms. “Oh my God, thank you so much!”

“You’re—”

A loud horn interrupted her, and when she turned toward the source, saw that an accelerating car was careening toward them. Without a second thought, she lunged forward and pushed the mother and daughter back toward the sidewalk. Unfortunately, in the process, she tripped on the uneven asphalt and found herself sprawled on the street. The car was only a few feet away, but she found herself stuck, frozen in place.

A gust of wind blew by as she braced herself.

The impact never came.

What?

Stella fully expected to be flat as a pancake in the middle of Fifth Avenue, but as far as she could tell, all her limbs were in place and intact. And she wasn’t even on the ground, but fully upright, though she wasn’t standing by herself. She was pressed up against something hard—a wall perhaps—while steel bands wrapped around her tightly.

But it wasn’t wall or steel. For one thing, whatever it was, it was warm.

And breathing.

And alive.

No, she was held up against a broad, muscled chest.

Taking a deep breath, the scent of coffee and peaches tickled her nose.

Wow.

She’d never smelled anything like it before. It filled her senses, lighting up every pleasure center in her brain. Wanting more, she pushed her nose deeper into the firm chest, her knees going weak. She could have sworn she heard the faintest rumble from somewhere.

“Do you have a death wish or something?”

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