Chapter 8

 

Mary

 

“So where exactly is this place? Brian just said it was near Central Park?” I asked as we stepped into the breezy New York air.

“A quaint little place. Not too far from here,” he said, smiling as if he had a secret.

I raised an eyebrow in question, but he just continued walking.

I didn’t get to walk too much around the city, so I took in the sights and sounds of the hustle and bustle as we made small talk, walking arm and arm to Central Park.

To anyone else, we’d look like old friends, people who had known each other more than one night.

More than one kiss.

More than a few moments of our bodies pressed together that I couldn’t get out of my head.

I was with Eddie for over two years, and I couldn’t remember a time that we ever a danced. A time he made me feel like my body was on fire, yet chilled to the bone at the same time.

This was just a fake relationship. One to get my image back on track.

It’s what I had to repeat over and over, even as I leaned in and got a subtle whiff of Chris’s cologne that reminded me of the ocean air and my parents’ summer place in the Hamptons.

“This is the place.” Chris stopped suddenly. I was so in a daze thinking about his cologne and his lips that I wasn’t paying attention to where we were.

I expected the boathouse or something along those lines, but I didn’t expect a hot dog vendor. Maybe it was a place behind it.

“Um. That’s where we’re having brunch?” I asked, pointing to the little silver cart.

“Yeah. What’s better than a New York dog, walking through central park, and feeding the ducks?” Chris asked, sauntering toward the stand.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had something that wasn’t served on fine china, and I don’t think I’d ever fed any animal, not even my grandmother’s cat.

“And if the ducks aren’t biting, those pigeons will do anything for a crumb,” Chris said with a laugh before walking toward the stand. “Two dogs and two Cokes.”

“Diet and a plain hot dog on mine. No bun either,” I interjected.

“Who said one of mine was for you?” Chris raised his eyebrows.

“Fine, then two plain ones for me, no bun. And a bottled water,” I told the pot-bellied man in the newsboy cap.

The man laughed, shaking his head as he scooped a hot dog out of the roller. “Ah, young love.”

“Oh. We’re not in love. Just seeing where things go,” Chris interjected.

“What he meant to say was, ‘Thank you,'” I said, taking my two hot dogs, even though I wasn’t sure if I even wanted one of them.

“I call them like I see them. And I’ve seen a lot of couples walk through Central Park. By my guestimations, I say we’ll see a June wedding. June of next year that is. Send me an invite, will ya?” the guy said, handing Chris all four of our hot dogs and drinks as Chris handed him his credit card.

“If that ever happens, you’ll be the first on the guest list,” I said with a smirk, watching him ring up the card.

Chris took his card back and handed me my hot dogs and water before motioning for me to follow him down a path where some people were jogging, others walking, and some sitting on benches, watching the water.

“So, are you going to plan our fake wedding now too?” I asked, taking a tiny bite of my hot dog.

I was never a fan of the processed meat, but there was something about a warm dog, straight off the roller that always made my mouth water. It brought me back to summers when we would actually leave the Hamptons and go to Coney Island. Dad would buy me a hot dog or a corn dog, and we’d ride the Ferris wheel and play ski ball.

Back when I could do normal things without worrying about it being all over social media.

In fact, getting the granita and now walking in Central Park with a hot dog was the most normal thing I’d done in years.

Chris shrugged. “Hey, the ball’s in your court on that one, but we’re moving into your place if that’s the case. I don’t think my roommates would appreciate a wife.”

“You have roommates?” I asked as we walked in step along the path.

“Yeah, can’t exactly afford a place in the city, even Brooklyn without them.”

“What are they like?”

Chris stopped and turned toward me, his whiskey-colored eyes meeting mine. “Do you really care or are you just trying to make small talk?”

“Why wouldn’t I care?” I asked, shaking my head.

“Because this is a PR relationship. We should be talking strategy or what we can do to improve your image. I thought a walk in the park would be nice, instead of a stuffy restaurant with people staring at us. You know, almost like a real date, I guess. As real as a date can be when it’s a publicist and actress.”

“You think too much. You know that?”

He shrugged. “Gotta figure out the next move before someone else does. In business and life. Always trying to be one step ahead.”

I wanted to tell him that it was because I felt like there was something more between us. Something real. Something I never felt with Eddie or any other guy for that matter. But if he thought all of this was a PR stunt then I’d go with it. It was about my career after all, right?

“We’re trending. Number one on Twitter. Did you know that? Maybe we need a hashtag or something?” I asked, changing the subject before nibbling on my hot dog.

“It’s a start to something, right?” he asked, finally smiling again.

We started toward the pond, but Chris stopped near a bench where a man in ragged clothes and a beard that looked like something might be living in it, sat half-asleep or drunk.

“Hey, Willy, the ducks biting today?” Chris asked, smiling as he put his hand on the guy’s shoulder. The shoulder I’m not sure I would have touched for fear something grimy would have come off it.

The old man shook then looked up, a gummy smile filling his face. “Christiano! No ducks. No bites,” the man said in a gravelly voice.

Chris handed the man one of his hot dogs. “Got you breakfast or lunch. Or as the fancy people call it brunch. You can always save the bun for the ducks, or eat it all. Hell, it’s your brunch.”

Willy’s eyes lit up as he took the hot dog, staring at it as if it were precious jewels instead of a piece of processed meat on a bun. “The ducks and Willy will love this!”

Willy giggled like a small child, still staring at the food and not even bothering to take a bite.

“Awesome, man. I’m going to take my friend, Mary, here, for a walk around the pond. If you see any ducks, holler for us, will you?” Chris asked, leaning down next to the man.

Willy briefly looked in my direction then back to the hot dog before nodding. “Willy will.”

“Shall we continue on our walk?” Chris stood up, approaching me.

“Do you know him?” Geez, that was a stupid question.

Chris nodded. “Yeah. I see him every time I come to the park. Sometimes I bring him food; sometimes I just sit with him and watch the ducks when I need to clear my head.”

My heart swelled. I’d never met a man who would just take time out of his day to hang out with a homeless man in the park. Who was this guy and what the hell was he doing to my heart and my body? And how the hell was I going to keep this just PR?