“But you hate vintage stores,” I said.

“True. Maybe you could help me learn to like them.”

“It’s beautiful.” We stood up and he carefully and deliberately attached the brooch to my collar. His eyes met mine and an unspoken question formed. I felt the electricity between us surge throughout my body. My heart started beating faster. He pulled me closer. He looked at me for a moment longer as if the question had been answered. We then shared our very first kiss.

Far, far away from the revelers at Times Square, far away from the chandeliered ballrooms strewn with confetti, far away from TV-lined restaurants muted to make way for noisemakers and the sound of corks popping, far away from the sounds of laughter, inebriation, and desire, we stood together, a new couple, on the threshold of falling in love. As the clock struck midnight, we kissed again, but my heart and head declared open warfare on each other. I had poured all my energies into my career and ambition. Suddenly I felt like I resided in two places, one belonging to my head and the other my heart. This damn tug-of-war. Griffin was comfort food. Elliott was like an exotic and exciting dish that Anthony Bourdain would have showcased. I was eager to sample.

“If it’s your plan to leave, you better leave now before things get too much more out of hand,” Elliott said. I was finding it very hard to choose. New love can be so intoxicating.

After a brief moment, I said, “Why don’t we leave the decision to my Uber app … ” My voice trailed off. Elliott brought out a playful side of me I liked. I pulled my phone out and hit the familiar app. And waited. I looked down. I saw the answer. “Two minutes away. Why do you live in such an upscale neighborhood that has so many Uber drivers?” I said, stepping away from him. From my own feelings. Relief flooded me like an engine when you floor the gas to make a hasty getaway.

“FU,” he said.

I looked at him quizzically.

“Fuck Uber,” he said and smiled. And we ended the night with laughter, like so many other nights. But the landscape of my heart was most definitely changing. Elliott made me smile. He made me laugh. Elliott made me forget work. For once, it was nice to see the tangible expression of a man’s love: the flowers, his cards, and his beautiful notes. He made me feel loved. He made me feel desired. For the first time in my life, I felt like a real woman.

Chapter Fifteen

I consulted my expansive go-to file for architects, painters, and interior decorators. Walls were torn down. Walls were erected and painted. My original idea for the color of the walls, a watery celery, turned into a diluted honeydew. It was perfect. It made me think of the wonderful honeydew and mint sorbet that Griffin had concocted the night of prom.