It’s obvious that she hurt him, and since I’m not the type to pick at a wound, I let it go. I don’t want to have to rehash my entire relationship with Sean with him either. It’s in the past. No sense in dwelling on it.
“Sorry, I’m not good at all this ...” He rubs one hand over the back of his hair, straightening it.
“It’s okay.”
Before I can analyze what that might mean, Hart rises to his feet. “Get some sleep. I know you had a long day of travel. Good night.”
“Good night,” I echo.
Chapter Twelve
Turn Missteps into Lessons
New York, New York
My first meeting in New York went well. I had lunch with a prospective donor who was very passionate about work in Africa, having grown up in South Africa himself, and now I’m headed to an interview with a popular podcaster that my new PR firm lined up. We felt that some good publicity about the traction of the foundation would only help us secure more funds, better our reputation, and lead to an even greater impact. I was all for it.
The podcast host, Hannah Valentine, is originally from Alabama and has a sweet drawl that she uses to her advantage. She has enough Southern charm to make you feel completely comfortable and enough New York grit to delve into tough topics. Since it’s easy to talk about the work that I love, my thirty-minute time segment flies by, but somehow manages to go off the rails during the last ninety seconds.
Hannah aims a bubble-gum-sweet smile at me. “Okay, and since our listeners like to know the person behind the project, tell us a little bit about yourself. Married? Single?”
I hesitate. “Um. It’s complicated.”
She gestures for me to lean into the mic and continue.
“I started seeing someone recently. It’s very new.”
Hannah grins. “Someone new. That’s exciting. And how are things going?”
“Well, good, I just. I shouldn’t say anything, I’m sure ...”
“Because you’re afraid you’ll jinx it?”
Her questions are dizzying. When we were talking about Kenya, I was calm and in control. Clearheaded. Now I feel breathless and dizzy and I desperately need a sip of water.
“No. I’m just not sure I should say this.”
Hannah smiles wickedly. “Now you have to.”
“He’s quite a bit younger than me, so I’m not sure if it’s heading anywhere. But I’m having fun.”
Hannah’s eyes stray to the laptop beside her. “My producer just asked ... how much younger?”
“Next question.” I laugh nervously, wondering why on earth I ever opened this can of worms. I have no one to blame but myself, and that I’m old enough to know better is the frustrating thing.
“Oh, she’s blushing, guys. This is juicy.” Hannah chuckles, smiling at me encouragingly.
Blessedly, a few tense seconds later, she wraps up the interview, and I’m hopeful they’ll just cut that last awkward bit out in editing because that felt horribly uncomfortable. And no one is going to care about who I’m sort of dating. Cringe central.
After the interview, I meet with David and Joslyn via video conference and discuss the upcoming charity gala we plan to host next spring. It’s a ways away, but there’s a lot of work to be done, securing donations for the live auction and lining up speakers, entertainment, and a venue.
I called Hart earlier today, but the conversation was brief. He was in a meeting and couldn’t talk—family-trust stuff, he said. Later he texted with an invitation to tonight’s hockey game; he and his friends are sharing a suite. It’s an unexpected turn of events, but I’m up for it. Mostly because I wasn’t sure if I would see him again this trip. I fly backto California in a couple of days, and he and I haven’t made any definite plans. Which is fine, I’ve told myself. He has his life, and I have mine.
At the hockey game, I snack on nachos and popcorn and talk with Vaughn most of the time. The New York Rangers are playing the San Jose Sharks in their home opener. And even though I’m not a hockey fan, I cheer for the Sharks just because.
It’s interesting seeing Hart with his friends. Watching him interact is a whole thing—something to be studied. He’s completely comfortable in who he is, in his own skin. He smiles easily and laughs often. It makes me wonder if I’m the only one with issues, uncertainty. He’s confident and unfazed. Maybe it’s his upbringing. His family money. His last name. Or maybe it’s just who he is. But I find it equal parts sexy and charming. And he’s unbelievably attractive dressed in jeans, a button-down with the top two buttons undone, and a casual black sport coat. I changed after my meetings and am dressed in a miniskirt with tall boots and a cream chunky-knit sweater.
After the Rangers defeat my Sharks 4 to 3, we set off, exiting Madison Square Garden in Midtown with a rush of other spectators—down the escalator and into the bustling street below.