I ask firmly, begging with my eyes, and luckily, she nods in agreement, sadly proving I was right about how bad they are.
“Hey, Willa,” I call after my favorite customer when I see her crossing Fifth Avenue into Central Park.
She waves excitedly. “Juliette, I’m so glad I ran into you. I’ve been meaning to stop by this week.”
I kiss her hello. “Where’s the little one?”
“She’s with her uncle today,” she steps back and looks me up and down, “I didn’t tell you this when I saw you last, but you look amazing, and this new hair suits you perfectly. You look refreshed.”
“Oh,” I blush. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If you’re not busy, I have a quick question.”
“Sure. What’s up?” I ask while directing us away from the crowd swarming in front of The Met and walk us toward the entrance near 79thStreet.
“I wanted to follow up on those kid’s baking classes you mentioned. No pressure, but any idea when or if you will start them?”
Excitement runs through me; it’s something I’ve been thinking about more and more recently. I wasn’t sure anyone would be interested, especially with most of the area leaving for their Hamptons houses soon.
“Do you think I’d get people to sign up? I was worried with summer near, people would be too busy, and they wouldn’t be interested.”
“Can you do the classes during the week?”
“As if I have a life.” I laugh. “I can do them whenever. How about I put out an interest form, and if I get enough responses, we could start them in the next couple of weeks?”
“Yes! Perfect. I’m secretly hoping I can stay and learn something, too.”
I chuckle. “The more the merrier.”
She glances down at her watch and flinches. “I’m going to grab a cab to get me to the Upper West Side. I’m late for lunch with my granny.”
While we hug goodbye, I suck in a breath and freeze at what catches my eye over her shoulder.
Willa leans back with her hands on my shoulder, eyeing me with concern, “What’s wrong?”
Completely stunned, I stand there momentarily before shaking off any telling feelings I may show.
I fake a smile, “I thought I saw someone I know.” I say weakly and kiss her goodbye before she grabs a cab.
Staring at the now-empty street corner should have me second-guessing who I saw, but my eyes don’t lie, especially when it comes to Harrison Davenport.
I have fifteen minutes until I meet Adriana, so I sit on the bench to collect my thoughts and feelings. Taking a deep breath, I run my hands over my face and rub my temples in frustration, then hang my head back against the brick wall that encloses the park.
I hate that this man has such an effect on me.
When I open my eyes and stare at the sky, the calming effect of the American oaks that line Fifth Avenue typically has on me is non-existent, only frustrating me more.
Today was about starting the weekend off fresh; it’s why I suggested a walk in the park with Adriana. Being here always soothes my soul.
I love how diverse the park is. Parts are lively, with music blasting and performers entertaining, and then there are quiet, lesser-known paths and bridges, and even small gardens that people don’t know exist, where I like to sit and reflect.
And now it feels tainted because all I can think about is Harrison and the night at the masquerade gala.
The picture I portrayed in my head was that we had some deep, meaningful connection, and then he left me there without a second thought. He didn’t even ask for my number. I’m a fool.
Immature, and I need to get over it.
Twenty-four-year-olds in the city have one-night stands and meet guys on a nightly basis without thinking twice about it, except me.
