Mary tried to convince herself this was simply a way to waste time while she waited for the next train. The six o'clock to Washington on a weekday was always crowded, impossible to find a seat. Delaying only made sense.

Besides, a girl has to eat. Dinner with Simon would far surpass anything she grabbed at the station or the vodka martini with two olives she had planned on downing in the hotel bar. With effort, she ignored the little flip in her stomach the thought of sitting in a restaurant with Simon caused.

She couldn't believe her eyes when she walked into the hotel and spotted a handsome man in a pale silver suit that reminded her of Simon and realized it was indeed him. Used to seeing him in jeans and t-shirts, a look she appreciated as it gave a fine view of his muscular biceps and toned forearms, the suit was a plus. The material hinted at the body beneath but strained in all the right places. And that tie? The blue stripes matched his eyes. One yank and he'd be putty in her hands.

Another internal flip, this time paired with heat pooling in other places. A drink was definitely in order. Simon had ignored her hint about skipping dinner and going straight to his room. Maybe that was for the best. No one knew her, them, here in New York. They didn't have to hide, could do things like go for dinner without prying eyes. And unlike with Hunter, she could have a glass of wine with the meal.

"Ready?" Simon stood beside her, suit and tie still in place, chocolate brown hair freshly combed.

She stood and turned toward the hotel door. "Where are we going?"

Simon moved with her, the gentle touch of his hand on the small of her back a comfort. "What are you in the mood for?"

You.

This time, he didn't read her mind. "Sushi?"

"No." Sweet of him to remember it was her favourite, but it reminded her of Hunter. Right now she didn't want to think about the man she was supposed to be with, preferring to focus on the man she wanted to be with. "You mentioned a steak house nearby. Can we go there?"

"You bet." He stepped back behind her as they moved through the slowly revolving door. For a few seconds, the doors encapsuled them in a bubble of silence, the noise of the lobby sealed behind them. Then the moment broke and the sights and sounds of downtown New York in the midst of rush hour burst forth.

Out on the street, the heat of a long summer day in the city assaulted them, and Mary was grateful she'd decided to leave her jacket at home this morning. They'd called for a chance of rain in the afternoon, but she decided to risk it, hoping the clouds would hold off until she left. She searched the clear blue sky and smiled. Luck was on her side today.

"It's a bit early for dinner. Shall we take a walk or have a drink somewhere?"

She stopped in her tracks, still looking at the sky. "Can we go up there?"

Simon followed her gaze toward the tall building of steel and glass, an iconic landmark synonymous with the city of New York. She watched his face break out into a smile and his eyes twinkle as they returned to hers. "The Empire State Building? Great idea."

He inspected her high heels. "It's a few blocks. Are you okay to walk or do you want to grab a cab?"

"When in Rome... Let's pretend we're New Yorkers."

"Walking it is." Simon brushed his hand against hers, and Mary accepted the invitation, lacing her fingers in his. The gesture didn't feel odd, but rather natural, like they held hands all the time. They crossed the street, slipping in with the other pedestrians in a hurry to their destination. Unlike those people, once back on the sidewalk Simon slowed their pace to a stroll and, hand in hand, they meandered toward their destination.

This all felt so normal, so right. Mary had never imagined Simon fitting in in a big city - he was a townie, a small-town boy in her mind. He belonged to a different pace of life, one with no ambitions and little interest in the hustle and bustle of city life. But walking down a street in Manhattan, clad in a suit, in control of his surroundings, he fit right in. This was a side of Simon she'd never considered before.

"Do you come to New York often?"

Simon nodded. "A few trips a year at least. This time was for a hospitality conference, so more work related. I tagged on an extra day simply to experience the city." His hand swung before them. "New York is fun, exciting, different every time I visit yet the same. Does that make sense?"

"It does. It's like putting on a favourite coat and finding a twenty-dollar bill in the pocket."

"Exactly." He beamed at her, and the connection to him pulled at her insides again. This was indeed a different side of Simon, and she liked it. "How about you?"

"Emily's firm has an office here, so sometimes I visit the city when she's in town. But this time I came up with Sophie. She visits with the Harrington's now and again." This week would have been her fiancé, Thomas Harrington's birthday. In another lifetime, one where he hadn't been killed by a drunk driver, Sophie would be married and throwing a bash for her husband. She might even have kids. Instead, she visited the in-laws she never got and marked his birthday quietly. "We were only up for the day but they asked her to stay on."

"They didn't ask you?"

Mary shrugged. "Nope."

"Their loss." Simon squeezed her hand. "And my gain. I'd choose you anytime."

She couldn't meet his stare this time, his words striking a chord deep down. More and more these days, it felt like no one chose her, like she was left behind. Her sisters married, starting families of their own, without any need of the big sister with nothing to give but babysitting services. Her job offered no advancement, no opportunity to become the artist she'd once dreamed of. It offered a paycheck, and that was what she needed, not what she wanted. Being chosen felt good.

"Ah, here's the entrance." Simon pulled her into a cool lobby, gold and silver art deco themes repeated giving the illusion of bringing the summer sun inside. Two tickets purchased; they joined a family with two young girls in matching mint green princess dresses in the elevator. Her ears popped as they rose to the top, doors opening to reveal a bright blue sky.

"The view is stunning." In the late afternoon sun, the long rays of summer washed the city that never sleeps in a golden hue straight out of a scene from a movie. Concrete turned to flaxen velvet and windows reflected teal and pink, giving each building its own colourful personality. Central Park added deep green to the palette and the curves of the Hudson offered a contrast to the grid framework of the streets of Manhattan.

Instead of taking in the site himself, Simon watched her, soaking in her reaction to the view. "It is."

She put her hand on his arm, fingers grazing against the solid muscles she'd admired from afar earlier. "It really is like being on top of the world."

"C'mon. Let's see what we can spot."

Together they roamed around the crowded deck of the 86th floor, squished between tourists gawking and pointing. In a matter of moments, they located the Statue of Liberty, Brooklyn Bridge and The Chrysler Building. Simon snagged a viewfinder and placed her in front of it, his chest pressed against her back, protecting her from the surprisingly cool wind.

"What do you see?" His warm breath whispered in her ear and Mary found it hard to concentrate on the view, her body on sensory overload. For weeks now she'd acclimatized to being near Simon, his clean, crisp scent familiar, the warmth of him comforting. What once turned her body on instantly after months or years of absence, she managed to find a balance between desire and satisfaction. Being near him was almost enough. But here, in the midst of a crowd of camera wielding strangers, his scent, his touch stirred a fire inside that had laid dormant for far too long.

"Give me a minute."

Hands found her hips, her waist, pulled her closer. A clean-shaven chin rubbed against her cheek. Lips brushed her temple before his forehead pressed into her hair. Warmth spread inside and out, her breath matched his steady rhythm as she leaned into him, viewfinder forgotten. Through the thin cotton of her sundress, she could feel the pounding of his heart on her back, a rapid thump, thump, thump telling of his excitement at her nearness.

Her fingers found his, pulled his arms around her, needing more, more of him. Mary turned her face toward his, her lips searching, wanting contact with his.

"Excuse me, are you finished with the viewfinder?"

Simon flinched and, much to her disappointment, let go of her, stepping back. The chilly wind sliced through the gap created by the movement, and Mary shivered. She shot daggers at the older woman, looking at them with expectation.

"Yes. All yours." Simon retreated further away.

She followed, abandoning their cozy spot. With regret. How long had it been since he'd kissed her? Had it been in her bedroom at the barbeque? Yes, that was it. The day he came up with his stupid rule about no fun stuff until she went on a date with him. A proper date with dinner. That felt like years ago.

A different kind of heat replaced the one only moments ago brewing in her heart. Anger boiled to the surface. Frustration at the boxes the people in her life forced her into. Dutiful daughter, proper sister, respectable companion. All expecting her to conform to their ideals of who she should be, how she should act, what she should do. Play by their rules. Play perfect to please them.

Everyone disregarded her desires. Can't be an artist, no money in that. Can't live in the country, no influence there. Can't date the local bar owner, no future in that. Can't kiss the man with the softest lips, not until she met his requirements, his terms.

It was time she got what she wanted.

Mary headed to the elevator banks. "I'm hungry."

"Oh." Simon had to run to keep up with her as she weaved through the crowd. "Let's go then."

There was a lineup for the elevator, and Mary huffed at the wait. Simon placed a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked away from his touch, arms crossed. No hand holding. He didn't get the right to toy with her, stir up all these feelings and then toss her aside. Simon got the message, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants.

Ten minutes later they were descending, crowded into a corner of the elevator. A group of gangly teens giggled and jostled each other, bumping into her. Simon placed her between the wall and his body, his arms acting as bars to stop the intrusions. Mary tried to catch his eye, but he focused on the wall behind her left ear, kept as much distance from her body as possible, despite the pressures of the others in the elevator.

Guilt crept in, gnawing at her. Simon wasn't like the other people in her life. Until his request in her bedroom, he'd never asked anything of her, always made time for her. Accepted her for who she was, no matter how horribly she treated him. And there were times when she had been dreadful. She'd showed up at his bar, been rude to his staff, ignored him until she decided he'd paid enough, took what she wanted and left. Without an once of consideration for him. The next time she visited the Waterfront, the cycle repeated, and he always gave himself to her.

Today he'd asked her where she wanted to eat, took her to the tourist trap she suggested, worried about her feet in high heels for the walk, defended her against the dismissal of the Harrington family. Every moment had been about her. How did she repay him? She withdrew when he stepped aside to accommodate a woman who politely requested to see the city. Simon was kind and considerate.

She reached up and stroked his chin, asking him to look at her. Wide eyes full of confusion or pain met hers. How could she have hurt this man? "I'm sorry."

"Mary, I..." His stance relaxed. "I didn't mean to-"

"I know. And I'm a bitch."

Simon's lips formed a thin line. "Don't ever say that."

"But it's true."

The elevator bounced, the metal doors slid open, and the occupants streamed out. With the offending teens gone, Simon removed his arms from the wall. "Not in my books. I think you 're passionate."

She couldn't help the mirthless chuckle.

"I like that about you." He backed out of the elevator, never taking his eyes off her. "You may also be suffering from low blood sugar. What do you say we get you something to eat?"

All she could do was nod, the lump in her throat making it impossible to respond. Just like that, Simon accepted her apology. No, accepted her. No, said he liked her the way she was.

He held out his hand. Without hesitation, she accepted his offer and silently promised never to take him for granted again.