Tales From a Broad (39 page)

A slow grin spread across my face. Tess’s
genuine sweetness never failed to warm my heart. “You know what,
honey? I’m ready to go home. We started this trip by saying how we
were sick of doing what we were ‘supposed’ to do,” I said. “The old
me would’ve gotten back together with Cooper because that was the
next logical step. But the new me has learned from past mistakes
and is paving a brand new road,” I said with pride.

“Um, I believe a wise woman once called it
‘the parkway to possibilities’,” Tess smiled.

I chuckled. “That day in the Amsterdam diner
feels like a year ago, doesn’t it? Since then I’d found closure
with Cooper, and it’s now time to close this chapter too and start
fresh in New York.”

“Aunt Lu, you’re going to get off to a great
start back home. I just know it.” She threw her arms around me and
gave me a quick hug. “In the meantime, I’d like to send you off
with a flourish. I read about a great spa down the street. Their
signature massage is made with Tuscan grapes and herbs.”

I raised my shoulders to my ears and drew in
a deep breath. “Ahhh....” I said, exhaling. “Now you’re talking.” I
stuffed my pajamas into my backpack and grabbed my purse. “I will
deal with this later.” I held the door open for Tess and looked
back at the pile of clothes that were strewn on my bed. “Ciao for
now, baby.”

* * * *

Later that afternoon, I boarded the plane at
Peretola and squeezed my way into the seat assigned to me. It was a
middle seat, and I was sandwiched between an obese man who began
snoring as soon as we took off and a teenage boy whose headset did
little to muffle the sounds from his iPod. I was counting the hours
until we touched down in New York when a flight attendant came over
and placed a hand on my arm.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Yes?” I frowned.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said in a
hushed tone. “There are some empty seats up in first. You might be
more comfortable—”

“Oh wow. Yes, thank you.” Maybe Tess was
right. I was getting off to a great start already with a free
upgrade. I grabbed my carry-on bag, climbed over the sleeping man,
and followed the flight attendant all the way to the first row.

She leaned down and picked up a box of
chocolates sitting on one of the seats. “We’ve been saving these
for you,” she smiled mysteriously. “They’ll go great with our
complimentary champagne.” She pointed to a glass already poured and
sitting on the armrest.

“Gosh... Thank you,” I said, narrowing my
eyes.

I wondered what I had done to deserve such
rock star treatment. I certainly wasn’t about to question it. She
took my carry-on, and I slid down into the wide seat, closing my
eyes in peace. Because I’d slept like crap the past two nights, I
must’ve fallen asleep within seconds. I dreamed I was picking
grapes on a farm.

Then I heard a man’s voice. “Excuse me,
miss?”

In my dream it was one of the other grape
pickers, but even though I acknowledged him, the voice wouldn’t go
away.

“Miss?” I heard again. It took me a few
seconds to wake up and make the shift back to reality.

“Would you like to trade seats with me?
You’ll have a much better view this evening when the plane lands in
New York.”

My eyes flew open, and I turned to the
direction of the voice. Seated next to me was none other than
Simon. I dug my nails into my palms, and the pain I’d inflicted
upon myself confirmed the fact that I wasn’t dreaming. My mouth
hung open as I gaped at him.

“Umm, Lucy? You okay?” Simon’s voice broke
the awkward silence and brought me back to reality.

“Wh...what are you... How did you...” I
stammered.

“I have some pull around here.” He smiled
modestly.

“Ah, so this is the airline.” God, what a
response. My heart hammered in my chest. I didn’t know what to say.
I couldn’t believe Simon was sitting next to me. I literally had to
bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from smiling.

“Uh, Chaz filled me in on all of your
accomplishments.”

“No doubt, all the boring details.” He looked
uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat. “Chaz isn’t one to hold
back.”

“Thank God someone isn’t,” I said with a hint
of sarcasm, starting to recover from my shock. “Just so you know,
the details were far from boring. You happen to be the first
inventor I’ve ever met who happens to run camps.”

I cocked my head to the side and gave him a
look. The anger I’d felt earlier when I’d learned Simon hadn’t told
me the whole truth about himself had started to seep back, mixing
with a feeling of having been ignorant to have assumed so much and
not asked more questions.

“There’s more to the story.” Simon grinned,
placing his hand on my arm. A current of warmth spread through my
body. “First of all, I’m not an inventor. I worked on a thesis back
in business school,” he said, with a wave of his hand, “and
happened to come up with something that took off. It’s a snooze,
but it made me enough money so I can help out causes I believe in.
Hence, the camp.”

“Wow, that’s amazing, Simon. Truly.” I said.
“But, why didn’t you tell me any of this?” My cheeks reddened as I
spoke. “Why did you let me think you were a counselor? I kind of
feel like a fool.” I looked down at my lap as I confessed this.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I prefer to fly
anonymously. No pun intended,” he said sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand,” I
frowned, looking at him searchingly. “I feel like I don’t even know
you.”

“You do know me, Lucy,” Simon said firmly. “I
just omitted a few minor—”

“Major.” I was starting to shift back to
feeling as if I had been betrayed.

“Okay, major tidbits.” He sighed and looked
out the window briefly before turning back and putting his hand on
my arm. “Listen.” He paused, as if thinking about whether or not to
continue.

Searching my face, he seemed to make a
decision and kept talking. “You’re right. I didn’t tell you
absolutely everything. I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me
and wasn’t sure how much I should tell you. I didn’t think it
mattered what I do or how I live. I should have told you more. I’ve
been dating divas, and honestly I’m sick of it. They don’t like me
because of who I am, but because of my wallet. I wanted a fresh
start.”

My stomach clenched at that. I could
understand Simon’s feelings. A fresh start had been my motivation,
too. I looked into his eyes as he continued.

“It’s just that I wanted you to get to know
me for me without any preconceived notions. My parents have a lot
of money, and all my life, it’s been an issue. We grew up modestly
despite the money, and as a result, people have found them to be a
bit strange. I mean, why would anyone want to drive a Chevy when
you could drive a BMW, right?”

“Right?” I said, unsure what to say.

“Well, those are my parents for you. A strong
work ethic, big on charity—”

“Ah,” I nodded thoughtfully, beginning to
soften again. “Tess mentioned how growing up, you and Mark had to
forfeit your gifts to the needy children in the area.”

“Yeah,” he said with a face. “Kind of sucked
at the time, but now I get it. My grandfather was made of money,
and I guess they didn’t want us to think everyone else was. So
between the family bucks and my invention, it’s hard for anyone to
see me without a dollar sign in front of my name. The women I meet
are so fixated on my bank account. I just wanted to meet someone
who likes me for me.”

As I looked at Simon and realized he was
being truthful, I knew he hadn’t meant to mislead me, and I hadn’t
meant to assume the worst about him. Maybe this was the fate Tess
and Morgan were talking about when they had come to my apartment
that day. Maybe he was the man for me, but in order for me to see
that he was the right man, I had to understand my own tendency to
jump to conclusions about other people. Like the conclusion I had
made about Cooper—assuming that because he had it all, he was the
best man for my heart.

“Makes perfect sense,” I said with certainty.
“And just so you know, I like you for you,” I offered shyly. “More
than like you.” I held my breath as I waited for him to
respond.

“Well, what do you know? That’s perfect,
because it just so happens that the only bank I’m interested in,”
he said, taking hold of my hands, “is Lucy Banks.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the
corniness of his line, but as I exhaled, a grin spread across my
face at the sentiment. I bit my lip when a thought crossed my mind.
“This
is
the real you, right?”

“Full disclosure. Scout’s honor,” Simon said,
raising two fingers side by side.

“Careful,” I warned. “In London, that means
to F off.”

“Look at you! Down with the local lingo. I’d
say you’ve come pretty far from that angry woman in search of a
charger,” Simon said, giving my hand a squeeze.

My entire body tingled from his touch. I had
come pretty far.

“I’m so happy Chaz ran into you this morning.
When we said good bye last night in front of the store, I honestly
didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

I reached for my glass of champagne. “To
Chaz.”

“To Chaz.” Simon smiled and tapped his glass
softly against mine.

“Wait,” I said, suddenly a little confused.
What did my running into Chaz have to do with seeing Simon on the
plane? “Why are we toasting Chaz again? Because he told me the
truth about you?”

“Because he called me after you left him in
the piazza. He happened to mention what flight you taking, that you
were single, and, well, kind of into me.”

“Just a tad.” I held my fingers open an inch
and winked. Simon’s cheeks turned pink, and he ran his free hand
through his hair. I had a burning desire to rumple his hair, kiss
his forehead, his cheeks....

I took a big sip of the champagne, suddenly
remembering the gift I’d bought him before all the craziness went
down. I struggled to swallow before I laughed aloud.

“How ironic is this,” I said, reaching into
my bag to fish out the wallet. “I bought a little something for you
last night,
before
I knew about your cash flow.” I chuckled
and handed it over.

Simon looked at me quizzically before tearing
off the paper. I bit my nail and waited for his reaction. He held
the wallet and laughed before a serious look appeared on his face.
“You’re the best, Lucy. I can’t tell you how much this means to
me.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” I said, blushing from
his compliment. “I remembered the way you rolled your money in a
ball and thought it might come in handy. Maybe I should have bought
a bigger one.” I winked, and as Simon smiled at me, I could
actually feel the warmth coming from his eyes.

I shook my head in wonder and squeezed his
hands. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I whispered.

“From day one, the only thing I wanted was to
make you feel the way you deserve to feel. Tell me something,”
Simon murmured, leaning towards me. “Is this the
Pretty
Woman
moment you’ve been waiting for?”

I inched closer to him and gave him a soft
kiss. “Now it is,” I whispered with a smile.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to the special people who took the
time to read this when it existed in its earliest form. And
especially to those who read it more times than I can ever thank
them for. To my first unofficial editor, Tess Forte, who gave me
the confidence to start a writing career, Samantha Skule who taught
me the power of visualization, Karin Newell Piscitelli whose
guidance extends from the characters in my book to the characters
in my life, Allison Dickens and her creative suggestions, Nicole
Pultz who has a magnifying glass for an eye, and to my husband
Tommy who not only is a little bit Simon, but is a lot of bit
wonderful.

Endless love and gratitude to my parents who
taught me that anything can be accomplished, my sister who can read
my mood better than any book, my amazing friends who give me daily
focus, and my in-laws who have given me the actual time to focus.
To my friends at Fiorello Dolce, whose cappuccinos on the sidewalk
transported me back to Florence, to Caroline Andrus for the cover,
and to Nancy Schumacher for turning my dream into a reality.

About the Author

Jeannine Henvey, a Long Island native, graduated
magna cum laude from Hofstra University with a Master of Arts in
Industrial / Organizational Psychology.

After graduate school she moved to Manhattan
where she mastered the art of job hopping. She finally landed in
publishing where she had a long stint as a promotional writer for
many popular women’s magazines.

Jeannine had backpacked around Europe with
three of her friends in between undergrad and grad school. Whether
in a youth hostel, on the EuroRail, sitting in a pub, or at a
sidewalk cafe, she kept a journal throughout the two month trip.
Over the years, she had come across the book and put it away,
knowing that one day she would do something special with it. It was
that journal that inspired her to write
Tales From a
Broad
.

When she's not traveling the world with her
fictitious characters, Jeannine is happily grounded with her
husband and three children on Long Island.

https://www.facebook.com/jhenvey

http://www.jeanninehenvey.com

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