The Player and the Pixie(67)

This would be our last night together. It had to be. I didn’t want any additional lessons with a disinterested teacher.

I wanted more.

I wanted a shot with Lucy.

I wanted to go for broke.

But she didn’t want that with me, not enough to make a mess of her life. I was too risky.

I couldn’t fault her logic, but I gave myself permission to hate it.





Chapter Fifteen


@LucyFitz A man wearing a red evening gown just came on the subway and started singing Sir Mix-A-Lot to the beat of two empty Coke cans #NYC #neveradullday

@Anniecat to @LucyFitz I kinda miss the crazy #feelinnostalgic



*Lucy*

I woke up alone and naked.

When I glanced around the room, I saw that Sean’s suitcase was gone. The door to the closet was open and only sunlight on empty hangers greeted me.

Sunlight on those empty hangers was maybe the saddest thing I’d ever seen. My heart sank. My limbs felt too heavy to move.

I didn’t cry. Not immediately, at any rate. Instead, I lay back in the bed and did breathing exercises, attempting to clear my mind. It didn’t work. So I reminded myself that I’d been the one to say no. I’d pushed him away. My reasons were valid. I was being intelligent and realistic.

And then I cried.

I curled up into a ball and cried like an infant until a knock sounded at the door. My heart leapt, because my heart wasn’t thinking clearly. I jumped from the bed, pulling the sheet around me as I raced to the door.

Yanking it open without looking through the peephole, my silly heart took a nosedive when I found a man in a suit standing outside the door. Behind him was a room service tray and another man, dressed in a waiter’s uniform.

“Ms. Fitzpatrick?” the man in the suit asked, showing no sign of being surprised by my appearance.

I gripped the sheet tighter to my chest. “Uh, yes?”

“I’m Davies, your concierge. And I have an item for you from your Mr. Cassidy. He’s also sent up a tray. May we bring it in?”

I blinked at this Davies chap for several seconds before his words arranged themselves in my brain. They didn’t make sense, not precisely, but I realized I was gaping at him like a mental patient.

“Oh, yes. Please bring in the tray.” I stood back from the door, allowing the waiter to push it into the room.

Davies didn’t cross the threshold. Instead, as the waiter set up the service, he handed me a note and several boxes, all embossed with the hotel insignia.

“He left specific instructions that the room be kept for you as long as you like—a day, a week, a month—so please know we are at your service.”

These words were also gibberish, so I accepted the packages and note, nodded politely, and searched for my bag so I could give these fellas a tip. “Ah, okay. Thanks.”

Davies held up his hands as the server rolled the cart out of the room. “That won’t be necessary. Mr. Cassidy already took care of everything.”

“Um—”

“We were also careful to ensure none of your food came in contact with strawberries, as Mr. Cassidy explained you are allergic.”

“Oh.” My heart fluttered. He remembered.

“Enjoy your breakfast.” Davies reached forward and shut the door as I stumbled to the side, clutching the boxes and note to my chest.

I frowned at the items, the room eerily bright and quiet.

What just happened?

Blinking my eyes, finding them dry and crusty, I brought the card and boxes into focus.

Juggling the items, I ripped into the card first, devouring his script.



My lovely Lucy,

Thank you. For everything.

You are magnificent.

Now you have two people in all the world who will always be there for you.

Yours,

Sean



I read it maybe ten times, traced the neat, efficient letters with my fingertip. Raw, unmanageable emotion brought new tears to my eyes.

He was such a dunderhead; such a wonderful, sweet, funny, impossible, thoughtful, sexy eejit. I sniffled and opened the largest package first. It was full of clothes. Beneath were several pairs of sexy bras and knickers.

Didn’t buy me clothes my arse.

I set the large package aside and opened the next box with shaking fingers, gasping when I saw the item inside.

It was a pendant with white and black crystals against a silver-toned metal. Included was a silver-colored chain. A yin and yang pendant.

It was perfect and it would always remind me of him, of us.

I drifted over to the food and lifted the metal cover, finding a vegan feast of almond yogurt, fresh granola and fruit, three kinds of nuts, sprouted grain bread, and blackberry preserves.

Usually I’d devour this type of spread.

But today I put the cover back in place and claimed a chair in living room, right next to the spot where we’d had sex the night before. I closed my eyes at the memory, gathering several bracing breaths.