The Right Choice(3)
Author: Carly Phillips

“What if we get a cup of coffee and go over this schedule of yours? I’m sure you’d relax once you see everything will fall into place.”

Her frantic gaze darted from his hand, which remained on her shoulder, to the rings in the storefront window. “Coffee’s not such a good idea.”

He ought to let her go. After his overwhelming reaction to her, distance seemed the safest route. “We’ve got the time,” he muttered instead.

“Pick up any magazine or newspaper. Caffeine’s not good for you.” She stepped toward the street. Before he realized her intent, a yellow taxi screeched to a halt.

“Thanks for meeting me. I’m sure with all the wedding things going on I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.” Her rambling clearly stated that she hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Those huge brown eyes told another story.

“Count on it,” he said with a smile.

No sooner had she darted into the waiting cab than the taxi pulled away from the curb.

“Ah, the joys of living in New York City.” He watched as the brake lights disappeared into the maze of traffic, taking Carly farther away.

* * *

Carly stepped into the familiar lobby of Peter’s building. The smell of fresh paint permeated the air. Clean white walls surrounded chrome and mirrors. She wasn’t surprised. Thanks to the cost of the apartment and the condominium fees, the tenants in this Upper East Side luxury building demanded quality service and maintenance. Peter was no exception.

“Evening, Miss Wexler.”

“Hi, George.” Carly smiled at the gray-haired doorman she’d known as long as she’d known Peter. “Is he in?” she asked.

“Flew past me not ten minutes ago.”

“Good. Do me a favor, don’t announce me.” She leaned closer to the small desk. “I want to surprise him.”

The older man grinned. “Not a problem. You be good,” he said with a laugh.

“I always am. Thanks, George. And you have a nice night.” With a wave, she headed for the bank of elevators at the far end of the hall.

In the normal course of events, Carly went out of her way not to surprise Peter, but his schedule had been decidedly uncooperative lately.

The elevator doors glided open and Carly stepped inside. Since her engagement, she’d given the wedding planning “experts” free rein. In her role as columnist and counselor, others relied on Carly for advice, but in her personal life she had no problem deferring to those more experienced than she… especially now. She’d made a commitment, and vows were something she intended to repeat only once in this lifetime.

She stepped out of the elevator and walked down the familiar hallway, pausing outside Peter’s apartment. A rush of panic hit her and she wished she’d called first.

Too late. She rapped lightly on the door.

“Coming.” The muffled voice was followed by heavy footsteps and the rattle of a chain lock.

“You guys are late and I’m starving.” The door swung open wide. “You’re not the pizza man.”

Carly swallowed hard. “And you’re not Peter.” She hadn’t expected to see Mike again without being forewarned. Nor had she expected the adrenaline rush to be quite so potent the second time.

“Thankfully, no. I’m much more laid-back and a heck of a lot better-looking.”

“All ego,” she said, suppressing a grin.

“Not enough substance?” Mike asked.

Too much, she thought, as they fell into the easy banter of earlier that afternoon.

He gestured her inside. Carly stepped past him. The warm aroma of spiced aftershave assaulted her senses, heightening her awareness of the man standing in the entryway. Behind her, the apartment door closed with a heavy thud. She turned to find Mike leaning, one shoulder propped against the wall. One bare muscular shoulder. A shudder rippled through her, catching her unaware.

“Did you decide to take me up on that cup of coffee?” he asked with a knowing grin.

She fingered her bangs. “I’d forgotten all about it” She hadn’t forgotten him, though. In fact, she’d spent the rest of the day attempting to push all thoughts of Mike Novack out of her mind.

He walked toward her, forcing her to acknowledge that she’d been unsuccessful in her attempt. “I’m disappointed,” he said. “But you can make up for your lack of concern by sharing my pizza.” His gaze never wavered.

Golden eyes captured her, making her feel cornered. Light-headed. Excited. She anticipated the rush that came with their verbal sparring.

He tapped the tip of her nose with one finger. “I hate eating alone.”

“I’ll bet you rarely do,” she muttered.

A cough jolted Carly into sudden awareness of her surroundings. She jerked away from Mike, feeling a mixture of guilt and lingering desire.

“This is a surprise,” Peter said, watching them both from a few feet away.

“Not an unwelcome one, I’m sure.” Mike walked past her and seated himself on the sleek leather couch in the living room. He propped his feet on a glass cocktail table and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Of course not,” Peter said. He smiled and extended a hand toward Carly. She went to him, trying to ignore the feel of Mike’s burning gaze. She brushed a kiss on Peter’s damp cheek. Freshly showered, he smelled of familiar soap and shampoo. He drew her against him, resting his arm around her waist. “Carly’s always welcome. This visit just wasn’t planned.”

Carly grinned and elbowed him in the ribs. “Since planning hasn’t worked, I decided to ambush you instead. Look.” She patted the bag that hung from her shoulder, bulging with lists and articles from the most recent wedding magazines.

Peter groaned. Looking thoroughly put out and grumbling about neurotic women, he allowed Carly to lead him to the couch and push him onto the cushion beside Mike. She knew better than to be insulted. Long before they’d gotten engaged, she and Peter had been friends. He understood her even when she drove him to sheer exasperation with her never-ending lists and articles. Besides, they shared the same goal—marriage and the perks that came with it.

For Carly those perks included stability and security. For Peter, she sensed their engagement had more to do with her solid support as he climbed the ladder toward partnership. When all was said and done, they wanted the same things, even if their dreams were a little different.

“Ready to get started?” She knelt down beside her fiancé.