Chapter 1

The rain was starting to get heavier and the sidewalks were getting busier. It had been raining when I arrived at Newark airport the previous weekend and it had hardly stopped since. I was in New York for business and had not really noticed how bad the weather had been until the second weekend. I had both the Saturday and Sunday free. On the previous weekend, I had done a Google search for some good record shops and had been out hunting for a few rare disks I would have loved to get my hands on. I had used the subway to get around and had not really seen much of the city.

So, for my second weekend, I decided to do the tourist thing and have a wander around the city, see the sites and sample the local bars.

On the Saturday morning, I bought a weekend pass for the subway and had a wander around the city. I picked up a guidebook and just strolled around looking at the sites and dodged the showers.

I had spent all day taking in the sights, sounds and culture of the great city. It was now early evening and I had had enough of the rain and was feeling peckish. I started to look around for places to eat, just as I did so the heavens opened, and the rain came pouring down and I saw a sign for a coffee shop; I decided to have coffee and see if the rain slowed down a little.

I headed in out of the deluge. Central Perk was a smallish place; they did not do hot food just beverages and pastries. I thought a coffee while I looked up a place to eat.

It had lots of character; there were many tables with stools and some comfortable looking sofas and armchairs set around them. There were only around four or five people in the place, all drinking coffee and reading books or magazines. I hung up my coat on a rack to let it drip dry.

I ordered a large coffee latte and a blueberry muffin from the guy behind the counter and sat myself down on the sofa. I sipped on the coffee and started to munch on the muffin. I had not realised I was so hungry; I soon devoured one muffin and ordered another. Both the food and coffee were very good. I let myself sit back on the sofa and got really comfortable.

I was engrossed in my lonely planet guide when I felt the sofa dip and I knew someone had sat down on it next to me. I did not bother to look up as I was reading the history of Manhattan.

“Wow, this weather sucks! So where are the others?” an American accent asked.

I looked up to see whom she was talking to but there was no one else around. The owner of the voice was a mid-thirties cutie, slim but with nice curves and bright smiling eyes. She was wiping rain off her face with a napkin. She was dressed as if she had just come home from an office-based job. There were a few shopping bags and a briefcase on the floor next to her.

“I am sorry. Are you talking to me?” I replied trying not to sound rude.

She looked over at me, and then looked around the room, then back at me. A look of shock and amazement appeared on her face. This was soon replaced by a sexy smile. She seemed to smile with her eyes and her mouth at the same time.

“Gosh, yes, I am sorry, I thought you were one of my friends. We are the only ones who normally that sit here,” she said with a nervous laugh. I laughed with her, seeing the funny side of the situation.

“Hey, that’s okay, no harm done,” I replied, and buried myself back into my book. That was our conversation over a few minutes. She ordered coffee and settled back onto the sofa.

“So, this is so weird,” she said as if to no one in particular. I turned to see whom she was talking to and she was looking straight at me,

“How so?” I asked politely.

“Well in all the years I have been coming in here, only me and my friends have ever used this sofa!” she giggled.

“I can move if you would prefer it?” I offered, in a typically English way.

“No ... No of course not!” she replied. I smiled at her she smiled at me and I dipped my head back to my book.

“So, I am guessing that you’re British?” the stunner asked. I looked up at her; she was staring at me intently.

“Yes, I am,” I said, placing my book on the table. “My name’s Zak, by the way, and yes I am from England.”

“Oh, okay, my name’s Rachel, Rachel Green,” she said, offering her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Zak.”

“And you Rachel!” I replied and I watched as she sipped on her coffee.

“So why are you in New York?” she enquired, seeming interested in me. “Is it for work or pleasure?”

“Mainly for work. I have three weeks here, and this is my first free weekend,” I said, starting to warm to Rachel as we chatted.

I gave her a once over, although I tried not to seem too obvious about it. She was slim, with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and gorgeous lips. Her eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky; she was dressed sexily but at the same time conservatively if that makes sense. Her blouse showed just a hint of cleavage, enough to keep guys interested without being slutty.

“So, tell me all about you and why you are visiting New York!” she said, as she said it, she shifted on the sofa to face me and exposed a good length of very sexy thigh. Immediately my weekend looked more and more interesting I explained my job to her, and she listened seemingly interested. Then I asked about her and she gave me a potted life story. She lived with a friend in the apartment block above the coffee shop, worked in a department store in the city and spent most of her time either at work or in The Central Perk coffee shop.

She gave me a little history of her friends and they all seemed a little quirky.

I ordered us both more drinks, and we chatted like old friends. I told Rachel about the places I would like to visit in New York, and she told me all about the city, advising me about places that might not have made the guidebooks. She gave me advice on the best place to buy Levi’s 501’s, good record shops and the best restaurants.

Our conversation was eventually curtailed by the waitress; she stood by the sofa and coughed politely. We both looked up.

“I’m sorry, guys. Gunther, the owner, wants to shut up early today,” she said apologetically. “The weather is not doing us any favours.”

True enough the place was empty, and we were the last patrons. We finished our drinks and I helped Rachel on with her coat before putting mine on.

As we walked toward the door, Rachel turned to me and smiled.

“Say, would you like to get something to eat? There is a great Italian place around a couple of blocks away,” she asked with a beaming smile.

“That would be great!” I replied, trying not to seem too eager.

As she walked toward the door, I scoped her cute butt and strong sexy legs.

Although I had tried not to sound too eager, I am sure I did little to hide it. We walked out onto the sidewalk and sheltered under the coffee shops canopy. The rain was now teeming down, there were puddles already forming on the road, and the gutters were awash. We huddled for a while trying to avoid the drips coming off the canopy and wayward shopping bags of the other folks rushing around trying to get out of the rain.

“Let’s hail a cab; otherwise, we are going to get drenched,” she shouted to me over the din of the city. I had to agree the rain was coming down harder than ever and the streets were almost deserted of pedestrians.

I moved forward and raised my hand to attract a taxi and at the same time, a large delivery van drove past. It hit a deep puddle at around thirty miles an hour. The tidal wave that hit me soaked me to the skin and took the breath from my lungs. The cold, dirty water was dripping from me and all I could hear was Rachel laughing at me. It took a while for me to come to my senses. I moved in from the curb and Rachel squealed as I moved beside her.

“Oh, I am sorry I laughed but that was so funny,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

I looked at my reflection in the coffee shop window; I looked like a drowned rat. My light waterproof jacket had done little to protect me and I felt water collecting in the soles of my shoes. My white shirt would never recover, I was sure of that!

“Look, Rachel, we cannot go out with me looking like this. I better get back to my hotel and get changed,” I said. My teeth were chattering with the shock of the drenching and the cold.

“Hey, let me tell you something, Zak, no New York cabbie is going to let you in like that!” Rachel giggled and I knew she was right.

“Well, I will have to take the subway then I guess...” I stuttered, the cold making my teeth chatter.

“Look, Zak, I live upstairs. Let’s get you up to the apartment and get you sorted out before you freeze to death,” she said grabbing my hand and quickly leading me to a doorway.

We took the stairs to her flat; it was a really homely place. Once we were inside Rachel showed me to the bathroom and told me to take a shower. I quickly stripped off and headed into the flow of hot water. The rainwater must have been filthy as it took several rinses before the water was clean. As I dried myself, I heard Rachel calling my name at the door.

“Are you decent?” she called out. I wrapped a towel around my waist and told her I was.

She came in and handed me a black refuse sack, and some old, faded jeans and a plaid work shirt.

“These are an old roommate. They should fit, and the sack is for the dirty stuff,” she said, her eyes wandering over my chest and down over the towel. Perhaps she was interested in me after all. She blushed and quickly left the bathroom.

I gathered my stuff into the bag and got dressed, heading back out into the apartment. Rachel was on the telephone and she held a finger to her lips. It was the universal signal not to make any sound. She was talking to someone and obviously did not want the other person to know I was here.

I walked over to the windows and looked out over the city as she finished her conversation. I heard the telephone being placed down and turned to face the kitchen area. The living area of the apartment was made up of one room that was the living room, dining room and kitchen combined.

“Sorry, that was my roommate, Monica. She gets funny about me having company,” Rachel said.

“Hey, that’s okay,” I said taking in Rachel’s beauty.

While I was in the shower she had changed out of her skirt and blouse and was now dressed in a pair of faded jeans that showed off her cute bum and a tight black t-shirt; for a slim woman, she had a fair rack. Her nipples were blatantly obvious through the stretched tight material of the t-shirt.

“The guys went visiting friends out of town and decided to stay at a hotel rather than try and drive back in this dreadful weather!” Rachel’s voice was captivating, and I was really hoping she was as into me as I was into her.

“So, are you hungry? Monica is a chef and there are always great leftovers in the refrigerator,” Rachel said as she moved into the kitchen area.

Soon a half dish of lasagne was heating in the oven and Rachel was tossing a salad. I was given the job of cutting up some French bread and opening a bottle of Chablis. A very pleasurable job indeed, as I got to chat to Rachel as I did it.

We sat at the dining table and Rachel dished up huge portions of the gorgeous smelling lasagne and told me to help myself to the salad. The meal was most welcome, and it was not until ten minutes into it did, I remember to pour the wine into the glasses. We ate in silence at first; I, for one, was ravenous, and the way Rachel was munching I guessed she was as well.

I drained the wine left in my glass and poured myself another glass, offering the bottle to Rachel.

“My, my, is my English gentleman trying to get me tipsy?” Rachel laughed.

“First off who told you I was a gentleman?” I replied with a laugh, “And second off do I need to get you tipsy?”

Rachel was silent for a few moments and I was worried I had overstepped the mark. Then she looked me straight in the eyes.

“Well, I hope you are a gentleman and as for needing to get me tipsy only time will tell,” she giggled, and then she continued to eat. The food was delicious and we both had second helpings.