To say the conference was boring was an understatement. Simon itched to be out on the streets of New York, scouring the city for good food instead of sitting in this air-conditioned beige room listening to an appliance manufacturer drone on about the latest technology in dish washers. In his early days at the Waterfront Cafe and Bar he'd spent hours washing dishes - by hand.

"... all in less time than it takes to peel five pounds of potatoes." If that was supposed to be a joke, none of his fellow restaurant owners and managers found it funny. The presenter cleared his throat, thanked the group for their time and exited stage right.

A tall woman dressed in a white pantsuit took the stage. "That concludes our session, Ladies and Gentlemen. I hope you've found it useful. I look forward to seeing you in Hall B12 for cocktails."

"Glad that's over." His companion for the past two days, Clara wiped her manicured hand across her forehead in a dramatic fashion and Simon chuckled. She was far more entertaining than half of the presenters at this conference. 

Luck was on his side when he sat beside her this morning, not only due to her amusing antics that made today bearable, but also because the bed-and-breakfast she owned was only two towns over from Bridgetown. They had both instantly agreed that they could help each other's business out, her pointing guests to his restaurant and the new winery for tours once it was open and him directing travelers who stopped at the Waterfront Café to a cute, cozy place to rest for the evening.

They made their way out of the Westin Hotel's meeting block in the direction of the lobby and the elevators to its suites. Even though Simon was anxious to get to his room, drop off his stuff and start exploring the city, he slowed his steps to accommodate Clara's high heel pace.

"Are you going for cocktails?"

He shook his head. "I'm desperate to get out of here and sink my teeth into some New York delicacy. Can't decide between steak, sushi or shish kabob." Another thing Bridgetown lacked was a sushi restaurant.

"I know a great steak house over on third avenue if you want some company."

"Steak is always better when its—"

"Simon?"

He turned toward the sound of his name, not believing his ears. The site of Mary sauntering in his direction, resplendent in a sleeveless, soft pink sundress, her golden hair falling in soft curls around her pale face, made his mouth go dry. It had been almost a week since he'd seen her last; her visit to Washington turning from an overnight stay to an extended babysitting adventure, according to Emily, who kept him up to date on her whereabouts.

"Mary. What are you doing here?"

She stopped a few feet from him, placed her hand on his hip, and tilted her head. "I believe it's a free country and anyone can visit New York."

"Right, of course." Why was this so weird? "It's just... or rather I meant to say, what a pleasant surprise to see you."

"Much better."

Simon's pulse quickened. Was Mary here for him? "Did you know I was here?"

The hand came off the hip and Mary stepped closer, her eyes leaving Simon and landing on his companion. "I don't believe we've met."

Before he could find his manners, Clara stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Clara Madison."

"Mary Montgomery." The two women shook hands, and Simon tried to catch up. "How do you two know each other?"

He found his voice. "We just met."

"Oh, and already at a hotel." Mary crossed her arms. "You do move fast."

Clara's nose turned like she'd smelt raw sewage. "Excuse me?"

"Clara and I are both attending a hospitality conference here in the hotel." He jumped in before any more damage could be done. "Clara runs a bed-and-breakfast over in Hampshire."

"The Blue Bird Inn?"

"You know it?"

Mary's arms relaxed as she adjusted the metal strap of her purse. "I've stayed there on a few occasions. Bridgetown lacks decent accommodations."

"I was saying the same thing to Clara only this morning over coffee." Simon quickly clarified. "In the meeting room."

"I suggested Simon come and check out the place for himself, stay for a weekend. On me, of course. Maybe you could join him?"

"Oh, that —"

"I'd like that," cut in Mary.

Well, this was interesting. Simon didn't know what was going on at the moment, but he was quite sure Mary had made future plans for the both of them. Together. To stay overnight. He definitely liked the sound of that.

"Great. I'll leave it up to Simon to make the arrangements." Clara made a motion to look at her watch. "Well, look at the time. I need to drop this stuff off at my hotel room if I'm going to make cocktail hour." This confused Simon. Hadn't they just discussed skipping the water-downed drinks and generic appetizers/  "Give me a ring if you want to do dinner."

"But you didn't—"

"Nice to meet you, Mary. Hope to see you again soon."

And Clara disappeared gone. Leaving Simon alone with Mary. He got the distinct impress Clara wanted it that way.

Around them people milled about the spacious two-story lobby of the hotel. Simon still couldn't believe Mary was here, in front of him. The last thing he expected when he tore himself away from Bridgetown was to see her in the city. He'd considered skipping the conference altogether, preferring to wait for her to return to town instead, all in the hopes of spending time with her. And here she was, in New York.

"She seems nice." Mary's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Yeah, her partner couldn't make the trip, staying behind to manage the B&B." Simon stepped aside as a family with three young children passed by, laden with luggage and stuffed animals. "It's a nice surprise to see you here. What brings you to," he held up his hands, "this hotel?"

Her eyes, rimmed in too much makeup for his liking, found his. The makeup was flawless, matched the image of perfection many of the women at the conference aimed to attain. Yet the look gave Mary sharp lines, made her feel further away, untouchable. Over the last few weeks, spending time with her,  he was used to the more casual look she'd adopted at the lake house. "The next train back to Washington doesn't leave until 6:30pm, so I thought I'd pop in here for a drink." Mary nodded in the bar's direction. "You know to waste some time."

"I see." The hairs on the back of his neck rubbed against his shirt collar. "Can I join you?"

Mary raised an eyebrow. "You don't have something better to do? Cocktail hour and all?"

"As if. Tired of eating this hotel's food."

"But you want to have a drink with me. Here."

"That's different." Simon inched closer to her. "The company would be worth it."

A sly grin broke out on her face. "Good answer Mr. Wainwright."

"So that's a yes?"

She nodded, and he decided to push his luck. "Any chance you'd catch a later train and we can make it dinner and a drink? I hear there's a great steak house not far from here. Or maybe some sushi?" Mary's mouth made a little o, and he thought he'd overstepped. "Or not. A drink is fine."

To his surprise, she reached out a finger, traced it down his suit jacket. "Dinner sounds nice."

Simon couldn't keep the grin off his face. At last he'd get a proper date with her. Not a picnic in a secluded spot, with no one around to witness them. No, dinner in a public place, a proper restaurant, where they could be a couple, two people talking and eating with nothing to hide. Butterflies swirled in his stomach at the anticipation of walking into a room with Mary on his arm. He'd be the envy of every man in the place.

"Great. Let's go."

"Um, don't you want to maybe get rid of those papers?"

Simon looked at the flyers and folders in his hands. "Yes, yes, I do. Do you..." he wanted to ask her up to his room, but afraid of what might happen if she came with him. He knew his limits, if they were alone in his hotel room, she might get the wrong idea and they might never leave it. The butterflies in his stomach insisted that was a great idea and other parts of his body were down with the new plan. But his heart and his head won the moment, if temporarily. "Do you want to wait here while I pop upstairs?"

Was that disappointment in Mary's eyes? "Sure." She moved toward an empty wingback chair, took a seat, and crossed her legs. "Don't be too long, though. You know me, I might find some other way to entertain myself."

The old Simon would have read way too much into that statement, worried she actually meant it and done anything in his power to make sure he was the only one to amuse her. The old Simon would have taken the bait and invited her up to his room. But the old Simon didn't have these last few weeks of being near Mary, of taking her teasing and giving it right back to her. The new Simon knew, just knew, she would wait for him here.

"Well, Miss Montgomery, I do know you. And we wouldn't want that." He leaned in, whispered in her ear. "If you are a good girl and stay right here, I promise I'll give you a treat." He felt her hot breath on his cheek. "Would you like that?" He pulled his face back to regard her response.

"I believe I would, Mr. Wainwright."

"Good." The need to kiss her, taste those lips painted in deep pink, pulled at him. The smallest of movements and he could take her mouth with his. But that was not what tonight had to be about. He had to resist, show Mary all the other things he was good at in her world, besides sex. Yet he found he couldn't totally resist touching her. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I'll be quick."

He didn't wait for a response, turned and tried to walk casually to the bank of elevators where the doors of the nearest one were closing. He sprinted toward it, nearly had his hand chopped off as he stuck it between the metal to hold the elevator, and jumped inside. 

As he hit the button for his floor, Simon leaned against the mirrored wall and looked up. Tonight, his dream of taking Mary out would come true. Tonight, he could prove to her he was worthy of her, worthy of dating her, worthy of more.