Dinner went better than Erica expected. She watched and laughed as Zoe teased Harry about dying in Erica's play "A Woman to Love." And Harry took it all in stride.
In fact, Erica had found it necessary to kill off Harry's character, Henry, in the play. She thought that perhaps she could bury her feelings for Harry along with his fictional counterpart.
For a while, it seemed to work. But when Harry had shown up at Le Grand Colbert ahead of Julian…. Well, it was obvious that she'd either done a poor job with the burial or there'd been a resurrection of spectacular proportions. Not that it mattered. It had mattered that he was there, and she couldn't tamp down the feelings anymore, even with Julian present.
In a way, she'd been glad that she couldn't. To pretend she felt less for Harry than she did would have been unfair to Julian – unfair to all of them. So Julian had sent her into Harry's arms. And she hadn't looked back.
Did she have reservations? Of course she did. As a rational woman, she would have to. Harry was a confirmed – notoriously and infamously confirmed – bachelor. And he'd already broken her heart once before.
But what she'd told Marin was true. She had opened herself up, had the time of her life. And now she opened herself up to it again. Somehow, this time, despite her reservations, she had faith in him. Something in the way he looked at her this time around reassured her, calmed her.
And, boy, was she having a good time.
Erica realized she'd lost the thread of the conversation. She pulled her attention back to her sister and Harry in time to hear him saying, "…know that Danny was right. It does get a big laugh. But all Erica's plays are brilliant."
Shaking her head, Erica peered at him. "What can you mean by that? Have you even seen them? If you haven't, I'm not sure that's not just empty flattery."
Harry looked stricken. "That hurts, Erica. You know I don't do empty flattery."
"Well then?"
Zoe's head bounced from one to the other, a grin curling the corners of her mouth.
"You might remember that I traveled around quite a bit finding all those old girlfriends last year?"
Erica nodded, waiting.
Putting out a hand, palm up, gesturing, Harry gave half a shrug. "I had a lot of time on my hands – planes, trains, so forth. I had Leo dig up all the transcripts to your plays, whether published or unpublished. He's very good at that sort of thing; one of the reasons I keep the guy around. Anyway, I even saw a few of them; he found them on video."
"You read all my plays?" Erica stared at him, slightly dazed.
Harry coughed and cast his eyes to the table, pushing his plate back. "It made me feel closer to you."
Zoe's mouth fell open. "Harry Sanborn, are you blushing?"
Biting her lip and grinning when she saw that Harry's face indeed had infused with a faint flush, Erica covered his other hand where it rested on his thigh under the table with hers. He raised his eyes and smiled at her in a way that melted her heart.
A low chuckle interrupted their silent communication. Erica's mood was too light to chastise her sister, though. She turned and cocked her head at Zoe. "Is there something wrong with a man blushing?"
"God, no. It's just I can see so clearly that you two have got it bad for each other." She shook her head, her unruly curls whirling about her ears. "It defies explanation."
Harry chuckled as well. "I know it's hard to believe, given my past. But I can – and will – admit that I've finally found love. As sappy as I might have thought that sort of thing in the past." He glanced at Erica. "I was wrong though; it's not sappy. It's wonderful."
Erica tightened her hold on his hand, her breath hitching as he focused upon her and wove his fingers with hers. He liked to do that, she'd noticed. As if simply holding her hand weren't quite enough. He wanted the intimacy of their fingers being intertwined, reminiscent of how their limbs became intertwined during other intimate moments.
And now Erica blushed, thinking such thoughts.
Nothing escaped Zoe, but she decided not to comment this time, letting it go with a smirk. "So, did that cook of yours leave us any dessert? It is your birthday, Harry."
"Of course she did," Erica intoned, shifting her weight in order to stand.
"No, no, I'll get it." Harry squeezed her hand.
"Nonsense," Erica said. "You should sit right here while I get it." She stood and bent down to kiss him lightly. She smiled and unwound her fingers from his.
"I'll help." Zoe jumped up and followed her sister into the kitchen.
Erica busied herself uncovering the cake and finding dessert plates and forks.
"God, you guys are so adorable, I think I'm going to vomit."
Drawing her brows together, Erica sent Zoe a malicious glare. "That's hardly complimentary."
"Well, I'd be vomiting rainbows, if that makes you feel any better. He's unmistakably smitten. Which I didn't think was possible."
"Even less complimentary," Erica muttered, putting birthday candles in the cake. After a moment, she looked up. "Zoe, didn't you say you would help? Don't just stand there and irritate me."
Shrugging, Zoe picked up the plates, forks, and serving knife. "I only meant that it's nice to see you happy for once, Erica. It's been a long time." With that, she left the room to set the table for dessert.
Erica sighed, then let herself smile. She was happy.
Zoe had flipped the dimmer switch down low, so Erica's face glowed in the candlelight when she entered with the cake. Of course, the cake didn't have sixty-four candles, but a large number adorned the dessert. Harry smiled at the sisters as they sang "Happy Birthday" to him – in French, no less.
Closing his eyes momentarily, Harry then opened them to rest upon Erica as he blew out his candles. He knew his wish for the next year.
The three enjoyed cake and dessert wine and conversation for another hour or so, completely content. Then, Zoe stood.
"I have a class to teach in the morning, so I should go."
Harry got up as well. "Are you sure? It's still early."
"Yeah. I wouldn't want to intrude upon your evening together anyway." She winked at Erica.
"You wouldn't be, Zoe. We're happy for you to stay as long as you like." Harry turned to Erica. "Aren't we?"
"Of course we are. Don't go on our account, Zoe."
"No, no. I still have a few papers to grade, so I'll go. You two can stay put. I'll see myself out." Zoe grinned and walked over to Harry, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Happy Birthday. Thanks for having me over."
"Thank you. I'm glad you joined us."
"Goodnight, Erica," Zoe said, waving to the pair and strolling out the door.
Harry looked over at Erica, a smirk upon his lips. "You're not going too, are you?"
"Well, given that Zoe was my ride here, I guess not." She returned his smirk with one of her own.
"Sleepover?"
"Absolutely."
"Did you bring your pj's?"
"Nope."
"Even better." He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, threading his free hand through her hair.
The two of them nearly jumped at the cough from the doorway. They broke apart, Erica turning a concerned glance upon Zoe.
"I guess I won't be going after all." She went to the window and pulled the curtain aside, revealing a heavy snow falling. "My car's completely covered in snow."
