After work, on her way home, Maddy passed Columbus Park. A quartet of Asian neighborhood musicians performed a quaint version of "O, Little Town of Bethlehem," on an accordion, saxophone, and flutes. Despite the chilly air temperature, she paused for a few moments to take in the heartfelt music and the sight of white lights strung around the trees and lampposts while pink-faced kids tossed snowballs.

A shot of arctic air cut through the park, snapping her out of her reverie. She joined the stream of pedestrians walking the sidewalks. She couldn't be certain, but through the curtain of snowflakes, she thought she saw Nathan across the street, ducking behind a car. Though she caught only a glimpse, she had a feeling it was probably him following her home. She knew this day would come. It was inevitable.

She made an abrupt turn into the park, taking a detour from her usual route, occasionally glancing over her shoulder. She felt temporary relief at finding no trace of a gangly tall guy wearing a red ribbed beanie.

Relieved to be out of the cold, Maddy entered her apartment building, drew a deep breath, then started up the staircase, trying to get the bad taste of the day's events out of her mouth. She thought about climbing the Filbert Street stairs to Coit Tower, the beautiful gardens, and the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill. And she thought about George. And that kiss.

At the third-floor landing, her senior neighbor peeked out from her apartment, then slammed the door, dislodging her peculiar Christmas door decoration. Maddy remembered it from last year's holiday season, an oval-shaped piece of foil with an old-timey Santa face stamped on it. She nicknamed it "Chris Crinkle." It probably looked super cool when it was first produced in the 1950s but the foil Santa hadn't aged well. In fact, with every new crinkle, the faded Saint Nick looked increasingly demented.

Maddy tapped on the door.

"Mrs. K. Your Santa fell off your door." No answer. "Mrs. K. Your Santa head..."

It was a pointless exercise trying to draw the elderly woman out into the hallway. Maddy knelt, then fed the foil Santa head beneath Mrs. K's apartment door. "I slid your Santa under your door. Okay?" 

No answer.

Maddy hoisted her bag, then continued her climb toward the dreaded fifth floor.

As she tiptoed past Gary's apartment, the door flew open revealing a thoroughly revolting sight. Dripping wet, Gary stood there wrapped in a Power Rangers bath towel.

"So what's got you down, princess?"

Maddy covered her eyes and picked up the pace. "I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain it to you."

"I got some homemade eggnog cookin' in the crockpot. Gary's special holiday recipe. You up for some Christmas Cream?"

"I'm not taking questions at this time." Though her legs felt the strain of the steep flights of stairs she'd climbed, she summoned the energy to accelerate.

When she finally made it to the eighth floor, she noticed a package beside her apartment door addressed to Madison Taylor. She unlocked the door, pulled off her pom hat and scarf, tossing them onto a chair. She brought the package inside and ripped open the brown paper wrapping.

"Early Christmas present from Mom?" she wondered.

Inside a sturdy colorful box, wrapped in glittery snowflake tissue paper, she found the wooden wild parrot statue from the Chinatown gift shop. Her jaw fell open.

"Oh. My. God." She repeated it three more times before she stopped herself.

Poking out of the tissue paper was a gift card. She opened it and read the message.

I really enjoyed our trip. I hope you did, too. - George

Before Maddy had completely exhaled her long sigh, her phone rang.

Incoming call: George.

She bobbled her phone, caught it against her belly, fumbling to answer.

She heard his voice. "Maddy?"

"I'm here." She set the carved parrot and gift box on her coffee table.

"Are you home?" he asked.

"Just got here a few minutes ago."

"Did you get the package I sent?"

"It's beautiful." She admired the gift. "And very thoughtful."

"I'm glad you like it."

"But you didn't need to do that," she said. "It's way too extravagant."

"I wanted to give you something special to remember our trip."

"I'll never forget that trip."

"Would you have dinner with me?"

"When?"

"How about now?"

"Uh... Now?"

"In an hour? I'll send a car."

Caught off guard once again, before she blurted out her response, she pumped the brakes wondering, "Is this moving too fast?"

"If you're concerned about the limo driver," George said. "Don't be. It's not the same guy that drove you to the airport. I'm sending my usual driver, Hubert."

Her mind raced.

Maddy?" he said. "Did I read this wrong?"

"No. Not at all."

"Good."

"I can be ready in an hour," she said, knowing she'd regret that commitment.

........

An hour wasn't nearly enough time and, as she stood in front of the mirror, styling and restyling her hair, she sulked.

Maddy's wardrobe selection was a no-brainer. Her little black dress was the only suitable choice. She owned a red Calvin Klein sheath dress but it was in dire need of dry cleaning. She paid the penalty for bell sleeves, having dipped them into multiple hors d'oeuvres at a wedding reception last September. Her little black cocktail dress checked the two most important boxes. It still fit and it had been dry cleaned.

But that hair. Ugh. She pinned it up the best she could when she heard her phone. Her limo had arrived. Pushing her arm into her wool dress coat, she checked herself in the mirror, wincing at all the fuzz on her coat.

As she brushed and picked the lint, she mumbled, "Hopefully, the restaurant will be dark and he won't notice that it looks like I borrowed this coat from a poodle."

When Maddy exited her apartment building, she found a gleaming black Mercedes sedan stopped at the curb. The driver emerged, jogged around the front of the car, and opened the rear passenger door for her. "Madison Taylor?" he asked.

"That's me. You must be Hubert."

"I am," he said with a warm smile.

As she approached the vehicle, Hubert added, "You look lovely this evening."

"Thank you," Maddy replied, slipping into the back seat where she found a single long-stem red rose. "How sweet." She brought it to her face and inhaled.

When Hubert got behind the wheel, he said, "I apologize if I crossed the line."

"What line?"

"My compliment."

"No, no. Not at all."

Hubert added, "I had a customer file a complaint because I told her that I liked her coat. She said that it made her very uncomfortable."

"Filed a complaint?"

As he steered from the curb, he glanced into the rearview mirror and said, "You just never know these days. Some people are so..."

"Insane?"

"That's not the word I was going to use but yeah."

........

Hubert drove through the East Village and the Flatiron District, arriving at a twelve-story Beaux- Arts building. When he stopped the limo a valet opened the car door for Maddy. "Welcome to DocTK. Please come with me."

"Enjoy your evening," Hubert said. "You know, there's a two-year waiting list."

"For what?"

"For reservations to one of the most exclusive restaurants in the five boroughs."

Clutching her rose, Maddy followed the valet around the corner and down the street to an unmarked cerulean blue door. 

Inside the lobby, she was met by an exotic-looking woman, a tower of white hair rising from her head. "Welcome to Doc TK," she said with a curious accent. "May I take your coat?"

"Please," Maddy replied. She couldn't discard her coat fast enough.

A small man wearing black tights and a bright green jacket escorted Maddy into a trendy elegant restaurant populated by glamorous patrons. It was apparent that this would be anything but a traditional dining experience. Exotic aromas suggested that master chefs and magicians were working side-by-side in the kitchen. Rough-hewn tree trunks lined the walls with strings of white Christmas lights zigging and zagging across the bark surfaces.

Maddy arrived at a table where George waited. Against the eclectic backdrop, he looked like he was posing for a "GQ Magazine" photo shoot. He leaned in and lightly kissed her cheek.

"There's no way I'm cool enough to even be allowed in here," she said, setting her rose and phone on the table.

He smiled warmly at her.

Maddy whispered, "I'm pretty sure that woman in the red boots seated behind you is on the cover of "Vanity Fair."

"Yeah, Sidra Gonzalez," he said without looking over his shoulder. "Have you seen her Netflix series?"

"Not yet, but it looks really interesting."

When Maddy's phone rang, Nathan's pic popped up. She tucked her phone away.

"Who's the kid?"

Embarrassed, Maddy replied, "Nobody."

"Anybody I should be worried about?"

"Definitely not."

An uncomfortable pause seemed to linger forever.

"So," she said, desperate to change the subject. "Thanks for the rose."

"I know that sometimes I can come off as being a bit pushy," he said. "I like to think of myself as assertive."

"Okay. Let's go with that."

"That's how I've always been. When I see something I want, I go after it."

Their eyes met in an amorous look that made Maddy blush.