Aqua - Christmas in New York City (Aqua Romance Travel Series) (9 page)

The camera shifted next to Harry and revealed Foster. “Hi Cass. Hope you’re feeling better. I love you, my girl. And I’m proud of you.” A smile replaced his scowl and he slapped Harry’s back. “Harry’s not too bad either.”

The camera shifted back to Harry. “Foster is going to take me on the window shopping walk you did with your Mom every year.”

Foster’s face appeared on screen again, now at the steering wheel. “Right down to me driving the car like I always did.”
 

The camera shifted to the scene on the street as the car drove through downtown while Foster explained Casey’s favorite stops. The red bow at Grand Central Station, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, the trinkets at the flea market.

Foster told the story of how seven-year old Casey ran from one window display to another along Fifth Avenue and got separated from her mom. She walked right up to a Santa on the street corner and asked him to find her mommy for her. Foster broke out into fits of laughter. “You had balls.”

The camera followed the window displays, from Bergdorf Goodman and Henri Bendel to Bloomingdale's and Lord & Taylor. Foster had a cute story for each one, including the ten-story facade on Saks Fifth Avenue.
 

At the Tiffany’s window, Harry waved the store clerk over and she unlocked a cabinet and opened a velvet box. He turned to Foster. “This ring is for Casey. I wanted to ask you, for your blessing in marrying your daughter.”

Foster’s face softened and his eyes turned misty.
“Yes, Harry.” He slapped him on the back again. “I’d be proud.”

Casey lifted her hands to her face and shook her head. When she finally looked up, Harry stepped out of the corner of the room. “Merry Christmas, Cassandra.”

He handed her a gift. She opened the box to an album of childhood photos. She ran her finger along a photo of her and her mother on a swing set in Central Park. “I didn’t know this existed. Where did you find it?”

“Your cousin had that in one of your aunt’s albums. She let me look through them all.”

Casey turned the page to a photo of her mom holding her hand as they walked into a lake. “I love this one.”

“I got that from Roger.”
 

“Roger?”

Harry nodded. “He had an album of joint childhood photos. He said he always hoped you’d come back for it.”

“I forgot all about it.”

“He said the position at the university is still available for you. No strings attached.”

“Did you bring my gift for you?”

He nodded and tugged at the bow. He pulled out a leather-bound book, identical to the ones Casey had given him earlier, with the hand-written title:
Volume III: Our Life Together
. The pages were blank and she said: “We’ll write these chapters together, Harry, whatever our life brings.”

“I can’t be without you, Cassandra. Not now. Not ever.”

Tears ran down her cheek.

“Please Cassandra, marry me. Let me take care of you in sickness and health.”

Before she could answer, the doctor walked in. “I’ve got good news for you.”

Cassandra leaned into Harry.

“We were so focused on your gene mutation that we overlooked the obvious. Looks like you’ve got yourself a special Christmas gift this year.”

Casey nodded. “Harry is very special.”

“In more ways than one.” He looked at both of them with a smile. “You’re pregnant. Congratulations.”

It was Casey that burst out with superlatives. Having spent that last days in fear of cancer she was relieved that she was
only
pregnant. “It was my Christmas wish,” she said.

PART THREE

The Most Important Thing You Can Do

Well, for me anyway.

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading AQUA. You've just climbed to the top of my favorite people in the world category, a list currently populated by whoever first decided to crush grapes for wine and whoever thought to dip fresh strawberries in dark chocolate!

But there's one more thing I'd appreciate if you have a few minutes....

If you enjoyed AQUA, please leave a review today. The biggest challenge for writers is finding an audience and reviews at
Amazon
,
Goodreads
, and similar sites can make all the difference in the world between whether a new reader will find and purchase my books. I love writing, and would continue to do so even if I only had 5 readers, but, the better my books do, the more I can write for you.

If you leave a review today, thanks. If you don't, I won't take offense - I'm just thrilled that you are reading! 

From my heart, a big Thank you!

Amanda S. Jones

PART FOUR

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-and more!

Join the newsletter
on Amanda S. Jones’ blog!
 

PART FIVE

The Next Book in the Series

Step aboard the Aqua as it sails to the Caribbean and immerse yourself in true love, exotic locations, seduction and sumptuous foods.

Caribbean Nights is the fourth book in the AQUA series where you’ll meet new characters along with the ship’s crew as they enjoy ocean breezes, palm trees, tropical fruits and more.
 

The Aqua series, an intimate experience of food, travel and love. In each book, you will journey on the cruise ship Aqua, each story bringing new characters, destinations and experiences, each interwoven with the last. You will also spend time in Chef Amber’s kitchen, at her food workshops or her chef’s table for a sensual and sumptuous food experience - taste the meals, test her methods in your own kitchen or even try some of the character’s moves in your own bedroom!

Love happens on the Aqua…

Aqua - Venetian Nights (Volume 1, Book 1)
 

Aqua - Mediterranean Nights (Volume 1, Book 2)

Looking to cruise the world? You can purchase the Aqua Romance Travel series as individual titles or in bundle packages for extra savings! Looking for a destination Amanda S. Jones hasn’t covered yet - let us know at
[email protected]
.

PART SIX

Bonus: First Chapter of AQUA - Venetian Nights

A WARM breeze blew into St. Mark's Square from the lagoon. Casey pushed auburn bangs off her face and closed her book. Venice was serene at night, the tourists had returned to the mainland and the moon was casting a warm glow on the floating city. In the lantern light, a couple framed against the row of marble arches were embraced in a long kiss and Casey wondered how many times this scene had repeated itself, night after night, over hundreds of years. From her outdoor table at Caffè Florian, Casey watched couples dancing in the square, a young woman twirling for a photo, and a group of single women swaying as they sang a song.
 

“Madame,” the white-gloved waiter pulled a cappuccino from the tray, and then a dessert platter.
 

“I didn’t order this,” Casey said.

“They are with the compliments of the gentleman over there,” he pointed in the direction of a dark-haired man who tipped his glass toward her as his lips parted in a slow-forming smile.

A second waiter brought a platter of prosciutto, melons, fresh figs and other antipasti.

“I didn’t think you had dishes like this on the menu.”

“We don’t, madame. These were a special request.”

“Grazie,” she said.

When the waiters left, she took another look at the man and mouthed, ‘Grazie’. He smiled and raised his glass toward her. The lantern light cast a soft shadow on his face where his sideburns led to a strong jawline and a dimpled chin.

Strange, she thought, that she would run into someone at the end of her day. She had wandered around the cafe, admiring the antique mirrors and chandeliers, the rooms painted with original frescos. She had run her fingers along one of the mirrors, pondering how many women such as herself had looked at themselves, questioning what their future held. How many faces could be staring back at her, and what stories would they tell, what secrets would they hold. Centuries ago, women didn’t grapple with the thoughts of double mastectomies or genetic markers. They lived their lives unaware of a disease until it riddled their bodies. It was a blessing, Casey thought, not to know the future. Since finding out about the future health risks of her BRCA 1 and 2 gene mutations, she grappled with her options daily.
 

In her heart, she would rather lose her breasts than die of cancer in the future. She knew life would go on, and with a good partner, even love would continue, but that wasn’t the case with Roger. To him, a mastectomy was an amputation, a disfigurement, a fearful action; whereas Casey saw it as embracing life. She would feel safer and calmer, but Roger saw it as false reassurance. He advocated a lifestyle change that wouldn’t allow cancer cells to proliferate. The problem was that included reducing stress, something she couldn’t avoid in her demanding job as a prof. Her reputation as a thorough researcher left her little time for anything but work. On top of that, she made a name for herself in the classroom as well - READitter - where she shelled out long reading lists with tough assignments and wouldn’t accept any excuses for late work. By trying to live up to her demanding father's expectations, she had made many sacrifices for her career and she had just landed a coveted Chair position that started in a month. She wasn’t walking away from that.
 

At times she wondered if her relationship was as stressful. Thing is, she seemed to choose men who were equally challenging. One of the things she loved about Roger, were their healthy debates. Casey had built a wall against opening herself up to criticism, but ever since their philosophy class, he was the one person who could actually win an argument with her. But a double mastectomy was different. Genetic markers were personal, and whatever she chose to do with her body was not up for discussion. It was an area of their life where Roger strongly disagreed, and coupled with other issues, he walked away from their relationship when she needed him most.

As Casey had stared into the ancient mirror, thoughts of the past, especially her own, had unnerved her and she hurried to the outside patio to find a table, and pull out a book as a distraction. She’d leaned back in her chair, knowing the evening would unfold for the quintessential but canned St. Mark’s experience, with the dueling bands and tourists dancing. A gorgeous Italian flirting with her, however, was beyond what she had imagined. She tried to catch another glimpse of him without looking overly interested.