The kiss deepened, and I felt my lips part beneath his. That soft moan could only have been mine, and he groaned against my mouth as his arm tightened. His fingers were tangling in my hair and both of our champagne glasses had dropped to the ground. I stood on tip toe to press closer to him, our lips moving urgently, my fingers on the buttons of his shirt.

We tumbled onto the bed and I was pleased, after a moment of fear, that he’d had the sense not to strew the bed with roses. One experience with thorns was enough for a lifetime, and I felt myself laugh, wondering if he’d had the same one. The laugh died quickly enough. His fingers slid up along my thigh, pushing my skirt up as his hips pressed against mine.

“Your skin is so soft.”

And his fingers were just the slightest bit rough. I moaned again and let my head drop back as a thrust of his hips sent pleasure shivering through me. Our legs were tangled together, his lips at my throat, and I wanted absolutely everything, from this fairytale room to the pleasure his fingers were promising. Tomorrow—

It was like someone had poured ice water on me. I opened my eyes with a gasp. Tomorrow. Oh, God, tomorrow. Tomorrow when I’d be at the office with the two men I was supposed to be keeping apart, and all those tensions I was supposed to be diffusing. And I would have slept with one of them.

“What’s wrong?” Dave looked at the bed. “Rose thorn? I thought it was all petals.”

“No, no.” I managed a little bit of a laugh, but sobered quickly enough. “I, uh…I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.”

In my head, I could hear Jane screaming at me not to be stupid.

Dave frowned.

“Are you…I don’t understand.” He looked at my left hand.

“No boyfriend, no husband.” I waved my hands.

“Then what is it?” He reached out for my hand. “April, if I pressured you…” He shook his head. “I thought you wanted this.”

“I did! I do.” I yanked my hand back from his—his touch made me want to slide into his arms—and I made for the door. If I didn’t leave now, the wrong things were going to happen. “Look, if this was any other time, I would be…this would be… It’s perfect. It really is. But I’m Mr. Jeffries’s secretary, and you’re, well, you, and I just—I can’t.”

“Please don’t go.” His eyes were sad. “Jeffries doesn’t own you, April. If you want me, and I want you—and I do—“

“I can’t,” I said desperately. I was out the door and running down the hallway the next minute, praying he wouldn’t come after me. I knew some part of me wanted him to call after me, even though the same thought made me desperately afraid. We couldn’t do this. We couldn’t. And he must have understood that—or at least, respected my wishes—because he didn’t come after me.

And that was good, I told myself firmly as I left the elevator. Because that fairytale thing where the man chased after the woman and promised that he’d make all of the problems disappear could only possibly work in fairytales. The ability to make all the world’s problems go away was magic. We couldn’t do that. Not in real life.

“April?”

I whirled, my cheeks flaming.

“Hey. Hi. How are you—what are you—”

“Are you okay?” Nathaniel asked me, frowning. He looked genuinely worried.

“Yeah. Totally fine.” Except I felt like I was wearing a neon sign over my head that said, “I was just kissing one of the shareholders.” He couldn’t see it, could he?

“You look really flustered.” He looked over at the near-empty bar and jerked his head slightly. “Can I buy you a drink?”

No, my mind insisted, while Jane’s imagined voice howled, for the love of God, yes!

This time, Jane won.

“Sure,” I heard myself say.

Oops.

“Martini?” he asked me when we’d taken our seats. “Champagne? Scotch?”

“I don’t even know.”

“Hmm. Are you sure you’re all right?” But he leaned over the bar. “Two Hennessy’s.”

“What’s Hennessy?”

“Cognac,” he said, with a grin.

“Schmancy,” I said, before I thought. I really needed someone to stop me from talking. Luckily, he only laughed.

“Brandy and cognac,” he informed me as he handed me a glass, “were once used to settle nerves. Probably because they have the kick of a midsize horse. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” I smiled. It was impossible not to. Nathaniel had such infectious good humor.

“So…I’m getting signals that you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you.”

“Nope,” I said instantly. I took a sip to emphasize the fact that I wasn’t talking, and promptly choked. Dave hadn’t been kidding about the kick.

“Sip. Pretend you’re an English baron with a cigar and a country house, and you have not a care in the world.”

“Wow.” I looked into the glass. “Is that what you do when you drink this?”

“I don’t know about anyone else,” he admitted, “but between you and me? Yeah, I do. Is that just too adolescent?”

“Actually, I think it’s charming. For New Year’s Eve last year, all the secretaries got wine and put this stuff in it to look like gold flakes, and pretended we were ancient royalty. I mean, that was after several bottles of champagne. But still.”

“Can I just say how much I appreciate this?” Dave took a sip and smiled at me. “I dread coming to New York. I hear it’s this vibrant center of culture, but I never see that. It always seems sad to me, everyone in their suits and developing ulcers.”

“I’ll have to show you around sometime. New York is…so much more than that. Not that there aren’t a lot of serious people,” I added. I took another cautious sip. This stuff was growing on me—still, I wished I’d had more than a small order of sushi for lunch. “But there’s a lot else.”

“Like what?” He leaned on the bar and tilted his head as he watched me. “What would you show me?”

His voice was a few shades too intimate, but the brandy was mixing in my blood with the desire of the past half hour, and I felt reckless all of a sudden.

“Well, you aren’t a New Yorker until you’ve ordered takeout food at two in the morning from somewhere. But it’s a long day to get there. You want to wander through the streets and grab a bagel somewhere, listen to the musicians on the corners. There are some awesome museums, and it can even be fun to go down to the docks and watch the ships come in, even though it smells awful. There’s anything you could possibly want to eat for lunch, and the Met, and plays, and…”

“So this is a place of…” He searched for the word. “Possibility. That’s how you see it.”

“Exactly, yes. Possibility.”

“And it doesn’t wear you out? This constant grind and hustle?”

“Sometimes. But that’s why you have friends. It’s better than where I grew up, at least for me. It’s hard in New York, but no one’s actually watching you. That’s always what I remind myself at work. At home I was the Thornton's chubby daughter and everyone watched me and made comments about me and here… I can be anyone I want. I bought my first dress here, my first pair of heels, and the first time I wore them out of my apartment, three guys whistled at me. It was like a whole new world—people see you if you’re what they’re looking for, and otherwise they’re too focused on their goals to mind either way.”

My voice trailed away and I blinked. Had I actually just confessed all of that? I never told people this. I never mentioned all the stupid, hurtful comments from home. When I looked over, Nathaniel’s brows were drawn together.

“I don’t get that,” he said.

“You don’t have to get it, I just—”

“No, I mean, what you experienced where you grew up. April, how is it possible to see you and not want to be closer to you? You’re the sort of person who makes people laugh. You have this smile that just lights up a room, and you’re telling me that these people only saw one thing that doesn’t even matter?” His voice was frustrated. “I may not really like this city, but if New York was what it took for you to realize your worth, then I will offer a toast to that.”

I clinked glasses, feeling a wave of warmth.

“You know,” Nathaniel said quietly. “I was actually hoping to run into you tonight.”

“Oh? Why?” Suffused with relief, I didn’t think to question it.

“Because if I didn’t run into you naturally someplace with a bar, I was going to have to actually ask you out, and I’m kind of a huge coward about that.” He flashed a sheepish smile my direction.

“Oh, wow,” I said faintly. I was going to have to buy Jane a bottle of wine. She’d actually been right about this. “Oh, wow. Nathaniel, I am so sorry.”

“Damn,” he said morosely. “No, it’s fine, you don’t need to explain.”

“It’s not that.” I pushed aside the whiskey and took his hand. “Mr. Bryan—”

“Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel. Look, if you weren’t who you are, and I wasn’t who I am, things would be so different. This isn’t about you, or me—it’s just how things are. I can’t complicate what’s going on with this board meeting coming up. Believe me, I really, really wish I could. But I can’t.”

The version of Jane who lived in my head was not impressed.

“Who says you can’t?” He leaned close, so close I could feel his breath and shiver in the warmth of it. “I want you. You want me.”

“I…” Our lips were so close that I could feel the warmth of him. “I have to go.” I grabbed my purse and fairly ran. Tonight was one part amazing, one part pure awful. Why did I want gorgeous men I couldn’t have?

“April.” Unlike Dave, he did come after me. “Listen to me. I know you’re not this person, the one who shuts down everything you want because someone else might not like it. You’re who you are because you realized you don’t need to let other people limit you. I’m not going to tell you that you should have a date, but I am going to say that there’s no reason you shouldn’t.”

“It’s not that simple!” I waved my hands at him. “You all think it is, but it isn’t! I’m Mr. Jeffries’s secretary, I have responsibilities. I can’t just do things like this. What don’t you and Dave get about that?”

I realized my mistake a moment later.

“What?” Nathaniel asked softly.

And then: “What?” a second voice asked.

“Fuck,” I said. Out loud. It was that kind of day. I turned my head, and found the two of them staring at one another like they were about to start a war. “Fuck,” I repeated.