Free Christmas at Tiffany's by Marianne Evans Page B

the cocoon you’ve inhabited up until now doesn’t fit anymore. God’s growing you, kiddo. Whether it’s because of Mitch or not, maybe you need to think about leaving the comfort zone behind.”
    Tiffany fingered the olive tapenade crostini on her appetizer plate, gaze pinging to Mitch.
    “Tif, you’re emerging. Celebrate, don’t fear.”
    Tiffany sighed. She looked at Mitch who carried on an intent conversation with his newfound companion and she had to admit, her heart broke a little. OK, more than just a little. “She’s beautiful. She seems well-suited to the pages of Mitch’s story.”
    “How can you say that when you’ve never even spoken to her, when you don’t even know her name?”
    “I’m trying to be mature and realistic, Mel. Give me some credit.” Tiffany lobbed the repost then stared outside where cars and people crept along the streets far below in a world transformed into miniature by nothing more than her lofty vantage point. Like her life of late, everything revolved around perspective. She wasn’t lying to her sister. Truly, there was no fault to be found in a lovely woman who swept onto the scene like a princess in a fairytale.
    Melody continued to shrug it off. “I dunno. She’s pretty, sure, but I notice things, Tif. Quite frankly there’s no comparison. He doesn’t look even half as happy right now as he did when he was talking with you, and standing at your side during your speech.”
    “You’re biased because I’m your sister.”
    “No, I’m honest because I’m your sister. Big difference.”
    Tiffany’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. The support was appreciated, and comforting, but when Mitch left the party a few minutes later…with his mystery lady…all Tiffany wanted to do was break down and cry.
    ~*~
    Mitch kept a guiding hand against the small of Wendy’s back as they ambled along the promenade of Rockefeller Center. Statues of trumpeting angels were nestled against rows of snow-tipped evergreens that created a pathway to the centerpiece of the city, an eighty-feet tall Norwegian spruce ablaze with thousands of multi-colored lights and crowned by a glittering Swarovski star. On the ice rink in the plaza below skaters spun, swirled, tumbled and laughed. The noise and bustle of people in motion filled the air with an ebb and flow that somehow blended with the rumble of tires, the honking horns of nearby traffic patterns.
    Mitch needed to get back to the party, but wanted a private interlude with Wendy in order to set matters straight—for both of them.
    How should he even start…?
    “So, the woman. The one who spoke to the group just now about charity work.” Leading and concise, Wendy opened the doorway between them.
    “Tiffany. What about her?” A touch of guilt, iced by defensiveness, layered the question.
    Wendy shook her head, grinning as she tugged her coat collar close to her neck. “Mitch, I wish you could have seen your face, your eyes, from my perspective. Maybe it’s because I know you so well.”
    For a moment, Mitch couldn’t summon the temerity to do much more than stop, turn and gape. “What do you mean?”
    “Convicted?” She tucked her arm through his and issued a gentle laugh. “Men can be adorably clueless.” A few steps later, her mood intensified. “I can see what’s coming between the two of us. I felt it as soon as I entered the Rainbow Room and even now, being with you for the first time in ages. Mitch, we care about each other. I know that. But there’s been distance over the past few months. That’s what prompted me to ask if you wanted me to come to the party tonight. That’s what prompted me to show up in spite you saying it wasn’t necessary. We’re convenient, and we’re comfortable, but we’re never going to be more than that, are we?”
    Mitch tipped his head and took in a magnificent view of the tree, but a deep-from-the-chest sigh sent a plume of white vapor into the frosty night air. “I feel like the