A Fare To Remember

Zach glanced around the small lobby. “So you’re kind of stuck.”

“Oh, not at all! I was just about to ask them to store my suitcase so I could leave the hotel and explore the city.” To hell with the suitcase and the potential for tuna cans all over the storage room. She was not about to appear helpless and stranded in front of her network, all one of him.

“Oh! Well, that’s a good idea.” He eyed the suitcase. “I guess.”

“It’ll be fine. I know the suitcase looks a little…”

“Compromised?”

“You could say that.” She wouldn’t mind being compromised by Zachary Evans. But she had to cool it. There were probably lots of guys like him walking around this city. He happened to be the first certified NYC hunk she’d seen, so she was probably overreacting. And she was starving, too, which didn’t help.

“You could ask them to tie something around it,” Zach said.

“I’ll do that.” She realized that the networking hadn’t begun yet, and maybe it was up to her to do something about it. “Mario mentioned that you had a contact in publishing.”

“I do. He’s an editor.”

“Really?” Hannah hadn’t expected to be this lucky. “For what house?”

“I can’t remember the name, but I have it at the office. I know they mostly do cookbooks and travel guides. Is that what you’re interested in?”

She was tempted to say yes, just to make the connection stronger, but she hadn’t come all this way to work on cookbooks and travel guides. “I have a degree in English literature. I’m hoping to edit fiction.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Then Percy might not be the guy to help you.”

“I’d be glad to talk to him, even so.” Maybe she could learn to love cookbooks. No, probably not. She was a nuke-’em-and-scarf-’em-down kind of person. Her theory was if you took enough vitamins and ate tuna once in a while, you’d be okay.

“It could be a waste of time if you’re into fiction.” Zach checked his watch. “Look, I have to get to the office, but I can ask around. Someone else might have a better lead than I do.”

“I hate to put you to the trouble.” Actually, she didn’t. Anything that would keep that tenuous connection between them worked for her. But she had to give him a graceful way out if he wanted to let this go.

“No trouble.” He paused. “If you don’t have other plans, we could go to dinner tonight. I could tell you what I’ve found out.”

Other plans? She’d arrived in the city less than two hours ago! She knew no one! How could she possibly have other plans? But she hesitated, as if considering her packed schedule. “That might work.”

“Seven?”

“Seven would be okay.”

“I’ll ring your room.”

“Great. See you then.” She watched him walk out of the lobby and controlled the urge to jump up and down.

Her first night in New York and she had a date! Not only a date, but one with a guy who came recommended by her very friendly taxi driver. Even better, this highly recommended, date-worthy person looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of GQ. New York was going to be incredible.

MARIO RETURNED TO THE coffee stand feeling smug. Maybe he shouldn’t take credit, though, because he’d been wrong about not leading with the tuna. The tuna had made all the difference. He only hoped this Cupid operation wasn’t too late.

After finding a parking spot near Iris’s stand, he sauntered over, unable to hold back a smile of triumph. He waited until Iris had finished serving an espresso to a long-haired college student toting a heavy backpack.

She counted out change to the student. “Gracias, senor.” Then she turned to Mario, her dark eyebrows arched. “Well?”

“He’s calling her this morning.”

“Bueno!” Iris clapped her hands together. “That boy needs a sweetheart.”

“You’re telling me. He’s so focused on success after Adrienne worked him over that he’s ready to bulldoze some poor guy out of a corner office.”

“That’s bad.”

“It’s not so much him as that boss of his.” Mario took the small porcelain cup of espresso Iris handed him. “Thanks, Iris.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out some money, but she waved it away. “Hey.” He tried again to give her the money. “You can’t be serving me free coffee.”

“You can give free taxi rides but I can’t give free coffee?”

He met the challenge in her dark eyes. She had spirit, and he admired that. “Thank you.”

“Da nada. So Zach will take away someone’s job?”

“I don’t know about that, but he definitely has his eye on a big bonus and a better office, which is currently occupied by a guy named Ed. Ed’s older and isn’t producing like he used to. Zach thinks the big boss wants to squeeze Ed out, even though he’s a nice guy and treats his clients great.”

Iris clucked her tongue.

“Yeah, it sucks. I know it happens all the time, but I hate to see Zach buying into it. If he doesn’t watch out, he’ll get as ruthless as the boss.”

“This woman, you think she’ll be good for him, then?”

Mario pictured Hannah Robertson in her yellow sundress and flowered suitcase held together with duct tape. “Oh, yeah. She’s exactly what the doctor ordered.”

ALL THROUGH THE DAY Zach kept telling himself that just because he was taking Hannah Robertson to dinner didn’t mean he’d end up taped to Mario’s dash. If and when the time came for him to find someone and settle down, he would do the picking, not some guy who’d seen Fiddler on the Roof once too often. Although matchmaking was cute when it happened to other people, Zach wasn’t about to fall for that program.

But a guy would have to be made of stone not to be kind to a woman who brought cans of tuna to New York so she could pass them out to the city’s homeless population. It also didn’t hurt that she’d looked like a ray of sunshine standing in that dingy hotel lobby. Her red hair was glorious, a deep copper color. She also had brown eyes, which might explain why her sundress had revealed a golden tan rather than pale skin dotted with freckles.

Taking Hannah Robertson to dinner would be no hardship. Getting her the right publishing contacts might be. Zach had asked around, and the consensus seemed to be that Ed had a client who was a publishing bigwig. This was the day that Drake Medford would inform Ed that he would probably be losing his corner office come the first of the month. Under the circumstances, Zach thought asking Ed for a personal favor today was just wrong.

So he’d called his cookbook guy and milked that contact for a couple of tenuous leads. It wasn’t much, but it was better than going to dinner empty-handed.

Partly because he didn’t have much to tell her and partly because he kept thinking of how good she’d looked in yellow, he bought a bouquet of daisies and yellow roses before hopping on the bus that would take him to the stop closest to the Pearson. Going to dinner with Hannah was turning out to be the best part of his day. Every time he’d passed Ed’s office he’d cringed at the idea that he was driving the guy out. Although he’d told himself not to worry, he was worrying, anyway.

So dinner was a terrific distraction. He’d made reservations at a Thai place on Restaurant Row, and they could walk there and back from her hotel. He wasn’t opposed to taking a cab, but Mario wasn’t on duty yet and Zach had become picky about his cabs after riding with Mario.

Fire trucks drove screaming past the bus as it stopped where Zach wanted off. When the sirens abruptly quit, Zach paused at the front of the bus, bouquet in hand, to lean down and peer through the bus’s windshield to see where the trucks had ended up. Damn it, the fire trucks, lights flashing, sat smack-dab in front of the Pearson!

Galloping down the steps to the pavement, Zach headed off at a run. The Pearson wasn’t as tall as some hotels, but tall enough, more than thirty stories. The fire escapes were probably old and rusty. A horrible image of Hannah dangling from a rope made of knotted sheets made his stomach churn.

Hotel guests came streaming out of the tiny lobby as the firefighters went charging in. Zach couldn’t see any smoke, but that didn’t mean anything. The fire could be in a hallway or an elevator shaft. Now he could hear the