Mr Destiny (33 page)

True, Eve decided.

They had just pulled into the station when the lights went out, and the power shut down, trapping them inside the subway car.
She'd been sitting right by the door, only one second away from walking out of the subway car, right up to the street, and
several blocks over to where George was waiting for her at the restaurant.

But was George safe?

That was her biggest fear.

She'd tried to call, but the cell phones were out.

Like everyone else, she could only assume something terrible had happened.

Please let George be safe.

The thought of losing him before she even met him would have made her shiver, had it not been so hot inside the car.

Eve let go of the pole long enough to swipe at a trickle of sweat running down the back of her neck. The air conditioner was
off, and the heat was becoming unbearable.

At least everything was quiet again.

Until a male voice said, “Whoever just said we're better off sitting here in the station is a nutcase. We'd be better off
if we were in the tunnel. We could just as easily be sitting ducks if…”

“Shut up!” several people yelled.

“Hey, I got your shut up right here, you bozos,” he yelled back.

The pole. The pole. The pole.

“Does anyone smell that? I swear I smell something. Oh, God. You don't think it could be nerve gas, do you? Isn't that what
caused all those people to get sick in that Tokyo subway? Wasn't it nerve gas?”

“Hey, I smell it, too.”

“So do I.”

“Would everybody just calm down,” some guy said. “It's me, okay. I can't help it. I've got this irritable bowel thing that
flares up whenever I'm nervous.”

“Hey, what's your name, dude?” some guy yelled.

“Norm, why?”

“It's not nerve gas, people, it's Norm's gas.”

Several people laughed.

“Jesus,” somebody else said. “Too many freaks. Not enough circuses.”

“Look! Over there. I see flashlights.”

“See, I told you we'd be the first ones to be rescued.”

The policeman walked up to the car, holding his flashlight under his
chin so everyone could see his face. “We've had a citywide blackout,” he told them. “Nothing serious to worry about. Keep
calm. We'll start letting you exit the car as soon as possible.”

It took thirty more minutes before they were finally set free. Eve bolted out of the subway car like she'd been shot out of
a cannon. She didn't even care that more bodies than she wanted to think about were pressing against her as everyone made
a mad dash for the street.

She climbed the stairs and drank in a deep breath of fresh air the second she reached the street.

And then Eve almost passed out.

A too-familiar, too-handsome face was shining like a beacon amidst the sea of swarming people.

The snake!

Her worst fear was actually walking up the street, heading straight for her, his arm draped possessively around a tall, lanky
blonde.

Eve stumbled back away from the subway entrance, flattening herself against the building. She kept praying the steady stream
of people still coming up the stairs would keep the snake from seeing her.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

She couldn't breathe.

The sidewalk was starting to move beneath her feet.

Eve leaned her head back.

That's when she saw it.

A beautiful white gull, flying overhead.

The gull. Just the gull. Nothing but the gull.

Flying lower.

Lower.

Lower.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Eve reached up and slowly wiped the poop from her face at the exact same time the snake and his latest fiancée stopped right
in front of her.

At that moment, Eve decided something very important.

She'd been crapped on for the last damn time.

The snake hadn't changed much. He still had the look-at-me blond highlights in his spiked brown hair. Still had the same God's-gift
smirk on his face. He looked her up and down before he smiled the kind of smile that used to make her swoon.

“Eve? Is that really you?”

“No,” Eve said. “It's Jessica Simpson.”

He sent the blonde a snide whatever look.

“What on earth are you doing down here by yourself on the riverfront?” He hugged the blonde even closer. “We have tickets
for the folk music concert. Folk music has become our latest passion. Hasn't it, pumpkin?”

Pumpkin nodded rather snootily.

“Then you might have heard of my boyfriend,” Eve said proudly. “He's one of the musicians
playing
in the concert. George Dumond? World-class banjo player? There's a big write-up on him in the front of the festival program.
Check it out when you get a chance.”

His snotty smirk instantly faded.

Eve, however, couldn't stop smiling.

He was
so
five minutes ago—as Alex would say.

No doubt about it.

She was over the snake for good.

“Enjoy the concert,” Eve told the happy couple and walked off.

She never looked back.

It was a different Eve Thornton who pushed and prodded her way through the crowd of people as she kept making her way toward
the riverfront restaurant. She ignored the occasional looks from passersby. She didn't even care if she still had traces of
bird poop on her cheek, or that her hair was frizzled and her blouse was sticking to her back from the sweltering heat inside
the subway car.

George was waiting for her.

All she cared about was George.

Just George.

Nothing but George.

She saw him before she crossed the street.

He was pacing back and forth in front of the restaurant, a worried look on his face. She knew it was him the second she saw
him—he looked exactly like the picture he'd sent her for his Web site.

Not a pretty boy like the snake.

He was a big teddy-bear-looking man.

One you knew would also have a big teddy-bear heart.

“George,” Eve yelled, waving madly.

He waved back, a big grin spreading across his face.

Her Braveheart.

Her brave heart.

Today, Eve had found them both.

“That's absurd!” Harold shouted, and the pretty ticket agent jumped. “I understand there's a blackout. I understand no planes
are landing and no planes are leaving. I even understand there's a problem with no power to operate the security systems.
What I
don't
understand is why you can't put me on a list or something so you can issue me a ticket the minute things
do
return to normal!”

“Are you always that rude, Harry?”

Harold whirled around.

His heart whirled around fifty times faster.

Carla?

Thank God!

“How did you ever find me?” was all he could think to say.

“Oh, get over yourself,” she said. “I wasn't looking for you. I heard you yelling all the way across the terminal.”

She turned and walked off.

Harold hurried after her.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her.

She jerked her arm away from him.

“You're in New York,” he said. “I still can't believe it. You're here in New York.”

She shrugged. “I didn't see the point in letting a plane ticket go to waste. I switched the ticket date, but I sure picked
the wrong day to arrive in the Big Apple. My plane landed over an hour ago. Who knows when I'll get my luggage.”

She's here. She's here. She's here.

Harold couldn't keep the silly grin off his face.

“Would you drop the grin?” she said. “It's starting to scare me.”

“I can't help it,” Harold said. “You're here.”

Her eyebrow arched. “On
business
,” she emphasized, “that has absolutely
nothing
to do with you.”

Harold frowned. “What kind of business?”

“Bigger fish than you business,” she said, and walked off down the corridor again.

Harold ran ahead and stopped in front of her, blocking her path.

“Don't you have a wedding ceremony to attend somewhere today, Harry?”

“God, I hope so,” Harold said, grinning at her again. “Say you'll marry me, Carla. Say you love me and you'll marry me.”

“Are. You. Nuts?” she hissed.

“I'm nuts about you,” Harold said.

He grabbed her and kissed Carla like crazy.

She finally pushed him away.

“Would you stop it!” She looked around them, flustered. “Everyone is staring at us, you idiot.”

“I'm serious, Carla,” Harold said. “I called off the other wedding. I couldn't go through with it. You're the one I love.
You're the one I want to marry. I was trying to get a plane ticket so I could go back to Chicago and find you.”

She looked at him for a moment, then shook her head.

“You said it yourself, Harry. What self-respecting man would ever…”

Harold refused to let her say it.

“I don't care about your past, Carla. All I care about is your future. The future I hope you say you're willing to spend with
me.”

Her blue eyes narrowed. “What do you think I am, stupid? We both know I'm
not
the type of girl you take home to good old Mom. I doubt you'd want to introduce me to any of your big-shot associates, either.”

“Is that what you think?” Harold said. “You think I'll be ashamed of you?”

“Thanks for saying it for me,” she said. “It makes it easier to walk away.”

“What will it take, Carla?” Harold demanded. “You want proof I'm not ashamed of you?”

“Go away,” she said, and tried to push past him.

Harold threw his head back and shouted as loud as he could, “I love this woman. Do you hear me, New York? I love this woman,
and I'm begging her to be my wife.”

Several people stopped walking to watch.

Harold dropped down on his knees, his hands clasped together in a plea. “See? I'm begging, Carla. In front of all these people,
I'm begging you. Please, say you'll marry me.”

“Get up!” Carla said, cheeks blazing.

“Only if you'll say you'll marry me.”

A larger crowd had gathered now.

Everyone was watching.

Everyone kept waiting.

Harold kept waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

“Okay, okay,” Carla said, rolling her eyes. “Get up and I'll think about it.”

“Did you hear that, New York?” Harold shouted. “At least she's going to think about it!”

The crowd started cheering.

Everyone started clapping.

Even the agent at the ticket counter was clapping.

Harold jumped up and pulled Carla into his arms.

Carla relented and slid her arms around his neck.

Her sweet lips close to his ear, she whispered, “You deserve a good spanking for embarrassing me like that, Harry.”

Harold stiffened.

In more ways than one.

He grabbed her hand and bolted for the front entrance.

Blackout, or no blackout, he
would
find them a taxi.

No matter what the cost.

E
ither destiny was trying to keep her from making a fool of herself. Or destiny was trying to prove she loved Tony Petrocelli
enough to walk from the Waldorf Astoria to Central Park in three-and-a-half-inch heels.

Kate did love Tony that much.

But her feet kept screaming they didn't.

She'd given up trying to hurry, it was pointless. She'd never seen so many people on the streets at one time in her life.
Except maybe in Times Square on New Year's Eve.

She'd finally stopped wincing at the strange looks she kept getting as she hobbled along in a wedding dress with a painting
under her arm. Just as she'd learned to ignore the smart remarks from less-than-desirable guys who kept trying to get her
attention.

“Hey, sweetheart, I'll marry you. Come over here and let me prove I'm your type.”

Like that guy.

Definitely one Froot Loop short of a full bowl.

Please.

Kate sighed and stopped with a million other people, waiting to cross the street. The two teenage girls standing beside her
looked over at her and immediately started snickering.