he raised his eyebrows, "4 years are a serious length of time." i decided just to lay it all out there for him since he seemed so interested; it didn't matter anyway i probably would never see him again after tonight.

"yep, came home from work one day and said he needed space, packed his bags and walked out." i knew the real reason he left, but i was not about to tell connor that.

he struggled with his next words, and it caught me by surprise.

"i'm sorry he did that to you."

i waved my hand in front of my face. "don't be, nothing lasts forever."

he was taken aback by my choice of words, but it was the truth and i wasn't afraid to say it.

chapter 7

le sur was just as beautiful as i thought it would be. the ambiance was breathtaking with its low lighting and romantic feel. the marble floors were exquisite as were the paintings that hung on the walls representing paris. the tables were lined with satin cloths, and the meals served were on delicate china.

"do you like it here?" connor asked as he noticed me looking around.

"yes, it is a beautiful restaurant," i smiled.

the waiter brought our meal as connor was about to ask me a question. "you say you volunteer at the soup kitchen, may i ask why?" the look on his face told me that he was a bit intrigued by it.

i took my fork and knife and cut up my chicken as i proceeded to answer his question.

"i like to help people in need; you should know that by now mr. black."

he shook his head, "yes, it was a dumb question to ask?"

"i had a rough childhood and let's just say nobody was there to help me." his eyes never left mine; he listened to every word i said closely.

"what about your parents? they did not help you?" i looked down and away from him, trying to find the right words.

"my mother died of cancer when i was six, and my father was an alcoholic who passed away right before my eighteenth birthday."

the look on his face changed; it went from hard to soft in a matter of seconds.

"is that why you helped me last night because you think i'm an alcoholic?" he asked. i took the last bite of my dinner and set down my fork.

"no, my father choked to death on his vomit during one of his drunken nights. i found him dead in his bed the next morning. i didn't want that same fate for you. what people do not realize is how easy it is for something like that to happen. i spent my entire life taking care of my father who absurdly drank himself into oblivion almost every night because he couldn't get over my mother's death, so it is just second nature for me to help people."

he didn't know what to say; i think i shocked him. he held up his glass and motioned me to do the same.

"well, thank you for your help last night, as mad as i was this morning to find you standing in my kitchen, i do appreciate it."

"you're welcome," i smiled.

as we were leaving the restaurant, i noticed several women looking at connor with what appeared to be sex in their eyes. some were licking their lips as we walked by, and others were eyeing him up and down. it was rather disgusting, but i could see why they did it. he was undoubtedly something to be admired. we walked outside, and i looked at him.

"want some ice cream?" i asked.

he looked at me with a puzzling look like i was crazy or something.

"no, i do not want ice cream, i'm taking you home and then i have somewhere to be." here comes his rudeness again, i was surprised it took this long.

"oh come on, my treat, i know this cute little ice cream parlor a couple of blocks away that's open 24 hours."

"miss lane, i do not want any ice cream, now get in the car so denny can take you home." his tone was adamant.

i started to walk down the street. i wanted ice cream. if he didn't that was his problem, but i was getting some with or without him.

i waved my hand as i walked away, "thanks again mr. black for dinner, i'll see ya around sometime."

"miss lane, get back here," he yelled down the street. i rolled my eyes and kept walking. suddenly, he was beside me mumbling, "miss lane, i will not tell you again to get in the car."

i stopped and turned to him shoving my finger into his chest, "i do not take orders from anybody mr. black, especially people i've only known less than 24 hours. i am not your responsibility. you thanked me for my help with a nice dinner, and now it is time to part ways. i am going to get some ice cream, and then i will call a cab to drive me home."

he stood there stunned, unable to speak. i continued walking, and he followed me. i heard him on the phone, "denny, i guess we're getting ice cream; i'll call you when we're leaving." the tone of his voice was angry.

"you do not need to come with me if you don't like ice cream," i said.

"i never said i did not like it, i just don't want any."

"then why are you following me mr. black?"

"it's not safe in this city for a beautiful young woman to be walking alone, especially at night, how many times do i need to explain that to you?"

i caught the "beautiful" part and could not help but smile. my feet were starting to kill me in my 4 inch heels, so i stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk and took them off.

"what do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"i'm taking off my shoes because my feet are killing me," i said as i used his arm for balance.

"you're going to walk barefoot on this dirty sidewalk?"

i laughed, "yes i am mr. black." i could tell he hated the idea; he was so prim and proper. we walked up to the door of the ice cream parlor, and i slipped my shoes back on.

"hello, how can i help you?" a cheery young girl behind the counter asked. i looked at the different ice creams behind the glass, "i will have a single scoop of chocolate chip on a waffle cone please."

"and for you sir?" the cheery girl asked.

connor looked at me and sighed, "a single scoop of cherry vanilla in a cup." i smiled at him and bumped my shoulder against his. i went to grab my wallet and pay, but connor had already handed the girl his money.

"i told you it was my treat."

"don't worry about it miss lane, i can afford to buy you ice cream." i rolled my eyes and sat down at the wrought iron table, connor sat across from me. i watched him eat his ice cream while hiding a small smile. i could tell he was enjoying it.

"how long has it been since you ate ice cream?" i asked.

he looked at me puzzled, "i don't know. i guess since i was a kid."

"are you kidding me, you haven't had ice cream since you were a kid?"

"no, is that a problem?"

"no, i'm just surprised."

"i think you would find a lot of things surprising about me," he said. i twisted my face and glared at him.

"so, where are you going later?" not that it was any of my business, but he made a point to let me know he needed to be somewhere.

he raised one eyebrow, "miss lane, i don't think you really want to know the answer to that."

we finished our ice cream as i saw denny pull the limousine up at the curb. he got out and opened the door for me.

"thank you denny, you are such a gentleman," i said as i glared at connor. thank god i didn't live too far because it was awkwardly silent the whole way home. the limo pulled up to my apartment, and i could see connor leaning over checking it out.

"you have your own outside entrance?" he frowned.

"yes, i do not live in a fancy apartment building with a door man and private elevator. this is it mr. black, my little apartment with its own outside entry." he looked at me in irritation.

"i didn't mean anything by it, i just think it is unsafe; anyone can break in." i looked at him and thanked him for putting that thought in my head. i leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. i found it odd that he flinched at my touch.

"thank you for dinner and ice cream, i had a nice time."

"you're welcome; have a nice night miss lane."

i got out of the limo and leaned forward so i was facing him and i winked, "have a pleasant night mr. black."

i shut the door and walked into my apartment. i took off my killer shoes and threw them down; god my feet hurt, but it was worth the pain to eat at le sur. my suspicion about connor and him having to be somewhere was that he was going to pick up some woman for sex. i had the distinct feeling he was that type of guy. he said he did not "do" relationships, but he is a man and every man has needs, and he was going to make sure his were filled.

i pondered why anyone would want a relationship with him anyway. he is downright rude and arrogant, not to mention he seems a little controlling. oh hell, i've never known anyone so controlling, but why does my heart flutter when i'm around him? i laughed to myself, thinking about the night, and how on more than one occasion i pissed him off as i climbed in my bed and fell fast asleep.

chapter 8

i spent the next few days going to work and volunteering at the soup kitchen. saturday came, and it was a beautiful september day. peyton had called and asked me to go shopping with her, but i told her i already had plans, of course she was not happy with my answer, but i was going to central park.

growing up, i would escape my house and find a quiet place to sit and draw. it was the only time i did not feel lonely. i liked to draw and paint pictures of places where i could go and hide. my father used to tell me that i got my artistic ability from my mother. i thought about her almost every day and how my life would be different if she hadn't died, but like i say, nothing lasts forever; you can either roll with it or let it kill you. i grabbed my drawing pad and pencils and headed out the door. the walk to central park wasn't long, and i enjoyed the fresh air; it made me feel alive.

i've spent more time in central park since i've moved to new york than anywhere else. the playgrounds were filled with children playing in the warm new york sun. i made my way to the conservatory garden. the magnolia and lilac trees filled the air that provided a soothing and calming effect. it was easy for me to escape the world and take in the beauty of the gardens. it was like a sanctuary for me; a place where i could go and draw just about anything.

i sat down on the bench and i noticed a bride and groom over to the right of me getting their picture taken by the fountain. she was beautiful in her white wedding dress, and he was equally handsome in his black tuxedo. they looked happy. i smiled; this was the perfect place to get married and that would make the perfect painting.

i was half way done drawing them when my phone rang. i looked at the unfamiliar number and ignored the call. a second later the phone rang again displaying the same number. i'm sure whoever it was had the wrong number, so i answered it to tell them to stop calling. i froze as i heard the voice on the other end.

"hello miss lane, are you enjoying central park?" i started to get creeped out as i looked around from side to side and then behind me; that is when i saw connor walking towards the bench i was sitting on.