I grinned. “I thought I’d walk around and see the sights.”

“You could take the ferry to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. Or you could take a tour of the Empire State Building. Also, you’re not far from Fifth Avenue, where all the good shopping is—Saks, Tiffany’s, Cartier, Prada, the good stuff.”

“The good expensive stuff,” I said.

“I’ll be done a little after four. I made reservations for six at Keens Steakhouse. Then I thought we’d take in a show.”

“What are we going to see?”

“That’s a surprise,” he said. He looked down at his watch. “I better go.” He downed his coffee, then stood. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Good luck,” I said.

He stopped and turned back. “I almost forgot.” He handed me his credit card. “Have fun.”

I just looked at it. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Use it.”

I watched him walk out. Then I put the card in my pocket and ordered another cup of hot chocolate.

I went back to my room to finish getting ready, then I took a taxi down to the Empire State Building and rode the elevator one hundred two floors to the top observation deck. It was amazing to look out over the entire city. Afterward I walked just a few blocks over to Macy’s on Thirty-Fourth Street, joining the throngs of sightseers gathered in front of the store to see the famous animated holiday windows. The theme was the Magic of Christmas, which seemed appropriate for me this year.

I got into a taxi to go back to the hotel but, on a whim, asked the driver for a recommendation for a good place to eat lunch. He was from São Paulo and he took me to a café in Little Brazil just a block off Sixth Avenue. The stew my waiter recommended was different but good. To drink I had a sugarcane juice mixed with pineapple juice. I walked the ten blocks back to the hotel, undressed, and took a nap. I woke to my room phone ringing.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Nicholas said. “Our meetings went long.”

“What time is it?” I asked, sitting up.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes.”

“It’s almost five. We should leave for dinner in a half hour.”

“I’ll be ready,” I yawned. I got out of bed, splashed water on my face, dressed in a nicer outfit, and fixed my hair. I was putting on fresh makeup when he knocked. I opened the door. He was still wearing his suit but with a fresh shirt and his collar open. He looked handsome. He always looked handsome.

Keens Steakhouse was in the Garment District between Fifth and Sixth Avenues, though, at the time of its founding, in 1885, the area was considered the Theater District and was frequented by those on both sides of the curtain.