The Love Letters: A Novella Read Free Page A

that. You strike me as a very giving person.” He pauses with a sincere smile and then adds, “Natalie, there’s nothing wrong with wanting something for yourself. A dream doesn’t make you selfish.”
    “So, do you live or work in Manhattan?” I ask.
    “Both. I live in TriBeCa and work for my family’s company near Mt. Sinai. Don’t judge!” Zach smiles boyishly, but there seems to be a hint of despair behind his eyes.
    “You didn’t judge me and I was reading a children’s book.” I run my hand over his muscular leg as he shifts his weight to allow for full exploration.
    “Are we still on for dinner?” he asks.
    As the train enters the dark tunnel on its non-stop plow to Grand Central, the lights flicker on and off. Zach reaches in to kiss me. Even with the speed of the train and the constant flashing of lights, the kiss is suspended in a place far removed from our present life.
    The overhead announcement crackles through the train, “Grand Central Station.”
    Oxygen returns to my brain as our mouths part. “Zach, I would love to have dinner with you, I just don’t know when I’ll be done.”
    When the train stops at the underground platform, I start to stand. Zach pulls me back down to him and places his hand gently on my cheek.
    “Natalie, tu es belle et intelligente, mais tu ne comprends même pas ce que je te dis. On a besoin d’explorer le plaisir afin d’oublier la douleur.”
    I raise my eyebrows and smile, not having a clue what he said in its entirety. “What? I don’t know—”
    Laughing, Zach replies, “I’ll wait for you outside the interview. It won’t take long.”
    I really hope he’s right.

    Leaning against a marble abstract figure outside the Foundation, Zach asks, “How did it go?”
    I still can’t get over how incredibly gorgeous he is, but I will not allow myself to fall so quickly. This stage of my life is simply a bridge from point A to B, and although Zach could very likely be my B, I want to enjoy the journey a little longer.
    “Total bomb! Fuck the French!” I shout loudly as a nearby businessman frowns in disgust. Ever since 9/11, people are a little too sensitive about freedom of speech, understandable, but still a shitty way to live as a Canadian-American.
    “They obviously don’t realize they’re missing out on a hot piece of ass that could help with their stuffy image.”
    Zach offers me his hand and I gladly accept. He hails a taxi, which I’m thankful for, seeing as it’s nearly ninety degrees on hot cement and my alligator pumps are wreaking havoc on my ankles.
    Once inside the smelly cab, Zach rolls up his sleeves and flicks open another button to his dress shirt. I stare at his tan chest, taunting me and unleashing my inner vixen. Smiling, his hand casually reaches across my chest to pop open another button to my flimsy shirt.
    “That’s much better, don’t ya think?” Zach’s index finger skims the edge of my bra and I flinch, not from shock, but from need. Our mutual forwardness is totally comfortable, and sexy as fuck.
    “Where are we going?” I ask.
    “Natalie, are you ignoring my flirtation?” Zach wiggles his eyebrows as his other hand glides freely up my thigh.
    “Nope, just wondering if a bed or table will be involved.” I place my hand on top of his and move it to the crease of my panties.
    “Definitely a bed. Possibly the shower.” He reaches in to kiss the tender stretch of skin just below my ear. Tiny beads of perspiration resting at my hairline freeze as soon as his lips caress my skin. Chills run down my bare arm as his finger presses against my thigh, making my top half chilly and my bottom half hot with desire.
    We spend the entire cab ride kissing and fondling, and making each other moan. We never once make eye contact with the cabbie because there’s something exciting about tormenting our driver through the rearview mirror. Finally arriving at what I assume is his apartment building, Zach helps me out of the cab and