For once her parents had come up with a gift that looked semiinteresting, but tonight she needed—she deserved—lighter fare.
And she knew just what she wanted. In fact, she’d timed her departure from the restaurant around the TV schedule that she’d studied last night. Her birthday had begun happily, and it would end happily, and she’d let the magic of a favorite movie obliterate everything in between.
In the kitchen, she mixed cocoa powder, sugar, and milk in a pan, leaving it on low heat. Then she washed her face, peeled off her work clothes, and slipped into soft cotton pajamas. A couple of giant marshmallows on top of her hot chocolate, and she was ready.
She swung open the doors to the antique wardrobe, revealing the television hidden within. Seconds later, propped up on pillows in bed, she sighed with pleasure at the sight of Holly Golightly outside Tiffany’s.
Two hours later, Maura watched through tear-flooded eyes as Holly claimed her no-name cat, then turned to Paul, her eyes telling him that she knew they belonged to each other. The three embraced in the pouring rain, and that New York alley became heaven on earth.
Maura blew her nose prodigiously, then gave a satisfied sigh, clicked off the television, and closed the doors of the wardrobe. Her guilty secret—indulged, then hidden away again.
She brushed her teeth and climbed into bed. What a sweet guy George Peppard’s Paul had been. Flawed in the beginning, but he’d become Holly’s true friend. He understood Holly’s frailties, yet loved her all the same. How could she have helped but fall in love with him, and trust him with her battered heart?
Snuggling down in the covers, Maura yawned. Once, she’d hoped to find a man like that herself. Increasingly, she’d come to believe they only existed in the movies. But oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful? Smiling dreamily, she hugged the spare pillow against her . . .
And relived that final scene . . .
It was raining . . . Cold, nasty rain . . .
But Maura didn’t mind a bit because warm arms encircled her. Her and her cat. She hugged the cat and Jesse hugged her. They were a family now, no longer drifting—or, if they were, they’d do it together. Chasing the same rainbow’s end . . .
She sighed contentedly as Jesse’s strength sheltered her and his body heat counteracted the cold.
“Maura?” Jesse said, his voice husky.
She glanced up. Somehow, magically, it had stopped raining.
And they were no longer in an alley full of garbage cans. They were in a park, with lush grass underfoot and cherry trees flowering overhead.
“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured.
“You’re so beautiful.”
He released her and for a moment she felt bereft, but all he was doing was taking off his leather jacket, tossing it on the grass. The cat meowed and Maura leaned down to free it. It twined itself around their ankles, as if it were weaving a spell to keep them together.
Maura gazed at Jesse. “We belong together,” she said. “The three of us.”
He leaned toward her, those tawny eyes warm with affection and desire. His mouth captured hers and she moaned with pleasure. His lips were soft on hers, gentle, almost teasing. Then his kiss became more intense, and inside her she felt a quickening, a thrill of desire.
A sudden breeze rustled the cherry tree above them, and a cascade of blossoms drifted down. “Oh, look, Jesse, it’s pink snow.”
She captured a blossom that had landed on his shoulder and held it to her nose. What a sweet, perfect scent.
He reached behind her head and began to take out the pins that fastened her hair into its elaborate Holly Golightly style. His fingers were deft; he didn’t even look to see what he was doing. Instead he watched her face, occasionally leaning forward to scatter small kisses across her forehead, her nose, her cheeks.
Her lips yearned for him, but he avoided them.
He ran his fingers through her hair, and she realized he had removed the last pin. He
And she knew just what she wanted. In fact, she’d timed her departure from the restaurant around the TV schedule that she’d studied last night. Her birthday had begun happily, and it would end happily, and she’d let the magic of a favorite movie obliterate everything in between.
In the kitchen, she mixed cocoa powder, sugar, and milk in a pan, leaving it on low heat. Then she washed her face, peeled off her work clothes, and slipped into soft cotton pajamas. A couple of giant marshmallows on top of her hot chocolate, and she was ready.
She swung open the doors to the antique wardrobe, revealing the television hidden within. Seconds later, propped up on pillows in bed, she sighed with pleasure at the sight of Holly Golightly outside Tiffany’s.
Two hours later, Maura watched through tear-flooded eyes as Holly claimed her no-name cat, then turned to Paul, her eyes telling him that she knew they belonged to each other. The three embraced in the pouring rain, and that New York alley became heaven on earth.
Maura blew her nose prodigiously, then gave a satisfied sigh, clicked off the television, and closed the doors of the wardrobe. Her guilty secret—indulged, then hidden away again.
She brushed her teeth and climbed into bed. What a sweet guy George Peppard’s Paul had been. Flawed in the beginning, but he’d become Holly’s true friend. He understood Holly’s frailties, yet loved her all the same. How could she have helped but fall in love with him, and trust him with her battered heart?
Snuggling down in the covers, Maura yawned. Once, she’d hoped to find a man like that herself. Increasingly, she’d come to believe they only existed in the movies. But oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful? Smiling dreamily, she hugged the spare pillow against her . . .
And relived that final scene . . .
It was raining . . . Cold, nasty rain . . .
But Maura didn’t mind a bit because warm arms encircled her. Her and her cat. She hugged the cat and Jesse hugged her. They were a family now, no longer drifting—or, if they were, they’d do it together. Chasing the same rainbow’s end . . .
She sighed contentedly as Jesse’s strength sheltered her and his body heat counteracted the cold.
“Maura?” Jesse said, his voice husky.
She glanced up. Somehow, magically, it had stopped raining.
And they were no longer in an alley full of garbage cans. They were in a park, with lush grass underfoot and cherry trees flowering overhead.
“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured.
“You’re so beautiful.”
He released her and for a moment she felt bereft, but all he was doing was taking off his leather jacket, tossing it on the grass. The cat meowed and Maura leaned down to free it. It twined itself around their ankles, as if it were weaving a spell to keep them together.
Maura gazed at Jesse. “We belong together,” she said. “The three of us.”
He leaned toward her, those tawny eyes warm with affection and desire. His mouth captured hers and she moaned with pleasure. His lips were soft on hers, gentle, almost teasing. Then his kiss became more intense, and inside her she felt a quickening, a thrill of desire.
A sudden breeze rustled the cherry tree above them, and a cascade of blossoms drifted down. “Oh, look, Jesse, it’s pink snow.”
She captured a blossom that had landed on his shoulder and held it to her nose. What a sweet, perfect scent.
He reached behind her head and began to take out the pins that fastened her hair into its elaborate Holly Golightly style. His fingers were deft; he didn’t even look to see what he was doing. Instead he watched her face, occasionally leaning forward to scatter small kisses across her forehead, her nose, her cheeks.
Her lips yearned for him, but he avoided them.
He ran his fingers through her hair, and she realized he had removed the last pin. He
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