Free Christmas at Tiffany's by Marianne Evans Page A

cheeks with a kiss. The gesture wrapped him at once in the subtle scent of lavender that should have appealed rather than disconcerted. Chestnut hair had been fashioned into a loose braid that curved against her right shoulder.
    Dark eyes sparkled. “Merry Christmas, handsome. Surprised?”
    Oh, was he ever. Seldom did he find himself caught off guard, but the present vignette knocked him out of bounds. “I am. Yes. I—”
    Wendy’s laughter twinkled. She rested a hand against his in a gesture of familiar possession and sipped from a goblet of white wine as she shifted toward him. “I hope this is OK. I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you very much, and it’s been way too long.”
    Six months, in fact. Six months cast into uncertainty by the few mystical days he had spent within the call of a woman who had come to captivate him. A woman who was the polar opposite of Wendy Pace and every expectation he held about the kind of woman who might win his heart.
    Silence stretched. She peered at him, steady but curious as she sipped once more and nibbled on a petite lobster roll she lifted from the plate at her elbow. While she ate, Mitch tried to think, to formulate words, to figure out what in the world he was feeling. All at once, the answer washed through him. Standing next to Wendy, seeing her as a part of his life in New York felt wrong.
    “I hope I haven’t made a mistake. I’m getting the sense you’re not happy with my visit. Should I apologize for showing up unannounced?”
    “Of course not. I’m happy to see you.”
    Wendy was lovely and intelligent. He respected her without question, but this arrival rammed home the fact that he most definitely didn’t harbor romantic or long-term feelings. That wasn’t her fault, or his, it simply was .
    Her gaze flicked to Tiffany, who had melted into a group from her department. Wendy straightened and the cozy vibration she had attempted to build vanished in a beat. Her smile was beautiful, but didn’t extend to her eyes. “The venue is fantastic. This setting is like being in a story book.”
    Stilted atmosphere surrounded Mitch in a discomfiting instant. He had to make this right. Promptly.
    “Wendy, let’s take a walk.” Taking her hand in a loose hold, guiding her to the coat check area, Mitch led the way to a bank of elevators and a descent to the lobby of 30 Rock.
    ~*~
    Who was the newcomer? Who was the stunning, statuesque brunette who had entered the Rainbow Room and caused Mitch to b-line to her side?
    Tiffany had wondered of late if he had a girlfriend waiting for him in Los Angeles. When he kissed the woman in welcome, the answer rang clear. How could such a realization press hard against her chest, tighten her throat, and stir a well of tears in her eyes?
    Seated at a table with Melody and a few others from work, Tiffany looked deliberately away from Mitch’s reunion at the bar. In a quiet tone she addressed her sister. “I hate the Devil. He knows just what weaknesses to exploit. Precisely what buttons to push.”
    “What do you mean?” Tiffany tilted a chin toward Mitch’s spot at the far side of the room. Melody searched and then her shoulder slumped. “Oh.”
    “Yeah. Oh. Like I said from the start, men like him and wallflowers like me”—Tiffany shook her head; a flip of her wrists and she brushed aside her emotions—“I should know better than to let myself feel this kind of attraction toward him.”
    “Stop it right there.” Melody hissed the words quietly, spearing Tiffany with a sharp look. All at once, she softened. “Aw, sweetie. Come here a second.”
    Melody led the way to that gorgeous window view of New York where they could embrace a bit of peace and seclusion. “You’re not a wallflower, you’re an introvert.”
    “It runs deeper than that, Mel. How can I call myself a Christian and feel so much self-doubt? How can I overcome this instinct I possess to shy away into my own little world and stay there?”
    “By realizing