A Prior Engagement by S. L. Scott

know why. “Um, is this all right?
    “I just confessed to you that sometimes I bum drinks because I can’t afford them. I . . . I know a million things to do on the cheap in Manhattan out of survival, not just for kicks. I wish I could say I can afford nice restaurants and opera tickets, but I can’t. You should know this now.” He hated feeling this way. He wished he could give the city to her on a silver platter, but he couldn’t and by looking around her street, that’s what she’s used to.
    Uncomfortable, he leaned back against the wall waiting for her to tell him their friendship, whatever this was they were to each other, was over. He expected as much. He didn’t know rich people, but he knew they tended to stick to their own kind. He watched as Evie shifted in front of him looking down at her shoes and as she tucked her hair behind her ear in quiet contemplation, he wished she would say something. He also wished he could hold her hand again like they did a few minutes ago before fate deemed it necessary to interfere. Suddenly, he was very aware of all the things he’d wished he had done before this moment, before the realities of their different worlds collided.
    Her voice broke into his pity party, and she lifted her chin, and said, “I don’t like the opera and you can afford nice restaurants. I like Pizzeria La Cucina and you introduced me to it.”
    “It’s just a pizza place—” he said.
    “I don’t care about that stuff!” Evie professed more than she was comfortable doing because she didn’t want their friendship to end over money. Money seemed to control every other aspect of her life, but it had never played a part in their relationship. Little things had led them to where they were, what they were in this moment, and she loved that too much to let it go. “I like you, William. I can’t take away my parents—my family’s money, but I’ve done all those things you say you can’t afford and I don’t need those things. I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together.”
    He stepped forward, pulling her against his chest and buried his nose into her hair again, something he couldn’t get enough of. His strong arms slid around her body and held her close. His first thought was she smelled delectable. His second was that she wanted to spend more time with him despite their differences. Holding her tight, he hoped it showed her how much he wanted to be with her as well.
    Enjoying the smell of him, she rested her cheek on his chest. As she wrapped her arms around his body, she worked on the adjectives that best described his smell to her, but the only one she could think of was delicious. She rolled her eyes at her thoughts, knowing she sounded silly, but it was true; maybe delectable worked also, but either way, he smelled really good.
    He pulled back, breaking their embrace, but took her hands and clasped them together with his. “Do you still want to slum it with me on Monday?”
    “I definitely want to slum it with you on Monday if you won’t hold all of this . . .” She pointed behind her. “. . . against me?”
    “You can’t help that you’re rich, so I won’t hold it against you.” They both laughed, and then he said, “I’m gonna go from here if that’s all right. I think you’ve learned more about me than you should have at this stage in our relationship.” He handed her bag back to her and shoved his hands into his pockets as she pulled her sweater closer to her body once again for warmth. “Goodnight, Evie.”
    “Goodnight, William.”

Chapter 9
    Sunday afternoon William rode down Park Avenue, one of the wealthiest streets in Manhattan. His mind wasn’t on the impressive buildings on either side of the tree-lined street, but on Evie—the pretty girl who lived on it.
    His body was weary today and he checked his watch. Another four hours and he could collapse into bed and sleep some more. Last night, he was restless with thoughts of Evie. Memories of the feel of