Page 11 of One More Time
‘Concert? Recording?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say,’ he replied.
Shit, maybe hewasfrom another planet.
‘Ooh, mysterious.’
Nicky leaned over the table and whispered, ‘Super’s doing a residency here in eighteen months or so. We haven’t announced it yet.’
‘That’s exciting! Like Wayne Newton!’ she exclaimed with that damn mischievous twinkle in her eye that made his heart thump hard.
‘Uh,’ he played along, ‘more like Elvis.’
‘Or maybe Engelbert Humperdinck?’ she asked, trying really hard not to giggle.
‘Aerosmith.’
‘Liberace?’
‘Maybe, Elton John.’
She tilted her head and squinted her eyes as though assessing him, ‘Oh, so more like The Osmonds, you’re saying?’
‘You’re killing me, Lucy Rollins,’ Nicky said, grinning like a damn fool.
‘Man, I haven’t been called that in ages,’ she said wistfully, staring down at her plate.
‘What are you now?’
‘McManis. After I divorced my first husband, I kept it so that my daughter and I would have the same last name.’
Finally, they were getting to the good stuff.
‘What’s your daughter like?’ he asked.
‘Chloe is twenty-one, beautiful. Funny. Brilliant. Madly in love. I’m here for her wedding. After the honeymoon they’re moving to Boston where she’ll start a program in clinical psychology at BU.’
‘Wow,’ Nicky marveled.
‘Do you have any kids?’ Lucy asked, before taking a bite of teeny fancy carrots.
‘Two. Twins, with my first wife. Wade and Conner. They’re twenty-five. Wade’s in New York, an architect. Conner’s a musician. In LA.’
‘Wow,’ she echoed.
They gazed at each other, and Nicky knew what she was feeling. He could feel it, too. So much time had passed. Time enough for children to be born and grow and become adults. Was it too much time? Were there too many minutes between them? Between what had been and whatcouldhave been?
Nicky took a deep breath trying to steady his thoughts and bring them back to the moment.
‘So, you saidfirsthusband …’
‘Shit,’ she replied with a grimace. ‘I was sort of hoping you might not catch that.’
‘Come on, how many?’ he joked.
She sheepishly held up three fingers.
‘Same for me,’ he said.
