Heart and the City

by Cecilia Fyre

“You’re not naked,” Ricco said in a mock-accusatory tone, grinning from his doorway. Lea felt goosebumps erupt all over. He had remembered that silly joke!

  “I can go and, uh… change?” she said. “But nobody will want to see that.”

  “Let’s keep it for later.” He was still grinning as he pulled his door closed. “And I know for a fact that’s not true.”

  Her heart was somewhere in her throat. Had he really just suggested they end the evening with their clothes off?

  She gave herself a shake. Get a grip… But Ricco kept his eyes on her as they walked down the corridor. From anyone else, it would have been a casual glance, but Ricco managed to give her the feeling that he was really seeing her.

  “You look nice,” he said, sounding much more sincere.

  Lea blushed. Her hands felt damp. How could she stay cool and collected all evening with this sort of thing going on? "Not too elegant? Or too shabby? I don't know."

  She smoothed down the black, knee-length dress she was wearing, which she had bought at an expensive boutique near Grand Central station during her lunch break that day. It had cost more than half her wardrobe taken together, and she couldn't afford it. Her grant wasn't all that generous. And there were so many expenses coming up.

  But when she had looked at her clothes after the text exchange with Ricco she had panicked. Never mind what he had said. She owned nothing even remotely appropriate for a gallery opening. Before leaving London, Lea had taken most of her clothes to the charity shop. With one thing and another going on at that time she’d lost quite a bit of weight. By the time the research opportunity in New York had come up she hadn’t had time or money to replace most of what she’d chucked out.

  But even in the new dress, Lea felt frumpy. Ricco had been true to his word and wore an old T-shirt and faded jeans, carrying a worn-looking leather jacket in one hand. But Lea remembered Pearl, the leggy model who had stalked from his apartment mere weeks ago. She had discovered in her Google trawls that that was exactly the sort of woman Ricco was usually seen with. No clothes, or diets, would ever make Lea look remotely like them. Never mind that she didn't have the right genes, a body at thirty-five could never be a body at twenty-three again.

  “You look very nice, I’m serious,” Ricco reassured her. He pressed the elevator button. “You’ll see, nobody will give a shit.” He correctly interpreted her nervous silence. “It’s not gonna be Hollywood hi soc tonight. More New York bohemian artist trash.”

  Lea had to laugh. “If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t. Both are Greek to me. How about I just nod and smile and hide behind a large potted plant? Always used to work at our department’s Christmas do. New York can’t be that different from London.”

  Ricco laughed, and when the elevator arrived he put a hand in the small of her back. It gave Lea goosebumps.

  “You said the gallery isn’t far?”

  Ricco nodded. “Couple blocks. You can walk that?”

  Lea lifted one foot, showing off her flat ballerina shoes. She had always liked her feet without reservation, and they looked cute in the flower-patterned shoes, one of the few wardrobe items she had not had to discard before the move. "I work twelve-hour shifts on my feet. I could walk to Harlem."

  “Of course, I’d almost forgotten what you do.” He grinned again. “Sure, let’s walk to Harlem sometime. Good jazz up there. You like jazz?”

  Lea blushed. “I can honestly say, I haven’t got a clue.”

  “We’ll have to find out then,” he said. “That’s a date, jazz in Harlem.”

  Lea’s heart rate picked up a notch. If he kept this going she’d have a cardiac incident before they even made it to the gallery. Time to move the conversation into safer waters. “Hey, how’s your head?”

  “Not bad.” He fiddled with his jacket sleeve, then shrugged as the elevator pinged open.

  “Did you see Dr. Vaughn?” Lea persisted.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Got new drugs. We’ll see.”

  He wasn’t keen on talking about it. Was he embarrassed? Or…

  “You know this will never reach anyone else’s ears, right?” Lea asked.

  Ricco gave a wry smile as they stepped onto the pavement. “That Hippocratic oath again?”

  “Yes,” Lea said, keeping her level gaze directed at him. “And common decency.”

  That got a reaction at last. Ricco glanced at her and his gaze was gentle and kind, but also strangely sad. “You got no idea how rare that is in my world.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” Lea said softly.

  They stood waiting for a traffic light to change and she leaned briefly against his shoulder. Ricco sighed and looked down. Then he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. Lea had butterflies in her stomach again.

  Conversation. Anything, now, to distract her from the arm she could still feel after he withdrew and they crossed the street. But Ricco changed the subject before Lea could. “The show is at my friend Jon’s gallery. I had some photographs there earlier in the year, but this new show is just his stuff.” Ricco pulled out his phone. “We’re meeting up with a few people before we go in, hang on.”

  He pressed the speed dial and walked a couple of steps ahead. Lea felt apprehensive. A few people? Why had he not mentioned this before? But then, why wouldn’t they meet up with his friends. He’d never suggested the evening would be exclusively him and her. Before she could think any more about it he thumbed his phone off, oblivious to her sudden nervousness. “They’re meeting us down the block.”

  They walked on. A change seemed to come over Ricco. He became stiller, somehow more controlled. He didn't speak again or look at her much. The vibe she got from him wasn't unfriendly, he just seemed more professional, more aware of his surroundings.

  A small gaggle of people waited at the next corner. They all turned toward them as Lea and Ricco approached. Lea nervously tugged down her dress again, feeling half a dozen sets of eyes on her. Why are they staring?

  The urge to turn tail and run was strong, but before she could process it, a tall woman in her fifties approached and held out a hand. “I’m Joanne.”

  On auto-pilot, Lea took the offered hand. “I’m Lea. Nice to meet you.”

  Joanne’s grip was firm and her green eyes piercing. She smiled, showing pointy white teeth. “Aren’t you adorable.”

  Uncertain whether she was being insulted or complimented Lea glanced at Ricco, who gave her a small smile but didn't say anything. None of the other people introduced themselves. Three of the men, all tall and silent, flanked Ricco. Without further explanation, the four of them led the way down the sidewalk.

  A strong arm came around Lea’s shoulders. Joanne steered her after the men. She leaned her head down conspiratorially. “So, Lea, you’re from England?”

  “I am, yes.”

  “How wonderful!” Joanne exclaimed. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a doctor,” Lea replied absently. “Joanne, what’s—”

  Joanne’s arm around her tightened. “Not now, darling. He’ll explain it all later.”

  Bemused and not a little alarmed by the turn of events, Lea let herself be led down the street. Soon, their group turned down a side street and walked toward a brightly lit art gallery.

  A small crowd waited outside. Most of them were young women, but some burly men in puffer jackets skulked around the fringes, holding professional-looking cameras. When the women spotted Ricco, they shrieked and swarmed him and his companions.

  Lea tried to back away, but Joanne moved her on firmly. But he said this was a private event.

  Then cameras and cell phone flashlights erupted from all directions, bathing everything in a crazy, phosphorous glow. People shouted and pushed, clamoring to get to Ricco, repeating his name over and over.

  Now Lea was glad about Joanne's hard grip. Being jostled like they were riding in a boat on choppy seas, they made it through the crowd behind Ricco and the others. Joanne steered her to the end of the
long, narrow space, relinquishing her only when they reached Ricco's side.

  “Maybe,” Joanne panted in a low voice, glaring at him, “this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

  She turned toward a passing waiter and took two glasses of champagne from his tray. She passed one of the glasses to Lea with a commiserating grin. “You look like you need a bit of liquid courage, dear.”

  Lea downed most of her glass in one gulp. Joanne wasn’t wrong, she had needed that. When Lea emerged, Joanne winked and her, then without another word, turned and joined a group clustered around a nearby painting.

  “Sorry about all of that,” Ricco said quietly. His expression was apologetic.

  “I didn’t expect that.” Lea gestured toward the windows where people were still visible, milling around outside. “You said there would be twenty random people here that your friend knows.”

  “Word got out that I might attend .” Ricco grimaced. “That’s why I arranged for Joanne and the others to meet us. I’d promised Jon I’d be here, and I felt bad to just cancel.” He was starting to sound stressed.

  "But why…" Lea floundered and tried again. "I mean, if it was an inconvenience you could've just told me not to come."

  Ricco’s expression was one of pain. “I wanted you to come. And I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  Lea stared at Ricco, confused. “Why would I’ve been disappointed? We could’ve gotten together some other time.”

  He frowned. “I thought you wanted this. Go out, be seen, make interesting friends.”

  They’d clearly been at cross-purposes here. Lea looked around at all the beautiful and stylish people, then back at Ricco, and her heart felt heavy. Was this what usually happened? Women – or girls, more like – expected him to take them to events like this. To be shown off? To make interesting friends?

  “You were trying to give me a treat, weren’t you?” she asked quietly. “You thought it would have to be an event like this, or I’d be disappointed.”

  Ricco still gazed at her, looking miserable. “Isn’t this why you agreed to come? You wanted to go out with a celebrity?”

  The gulf between their lives seemed suddenly vast. This is never going to work. This isn’t your world. And look at him. He expects you to be grateful for bringing you here.

  But there was no demand for anything in his sad, blue eyes, no anger, no resentment. He just seemed worried, strangely lost, like he had done her a wrong somehow. Maybe she should feel angry that he had tossed her into one pot with those fluff-brained bimbos but all she could muster was sadness that he was surrounded by people who expected introductions and riding his coattails.

  She smiled and put a hand on his arm. “This is fine, Ricco. Thank you for taking me along, it’s really interesting. But I don’t need this sort of thing. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to go out with you. But dinner and a movie would’ve done.” She gave him a grin. “I’m pretty low maintenance, even a takeaway will do. Then nobody is waiting for us and I can wear my yoga pants.”

  He grinned back, looking relieved. “Netflix and chill next time, understood.”

  Lea huffed and gave his arm a mock slap. “Hey, that’s not what I said. I might not be down with the kids, but even I know what that means.”

  Then a woman tapped Ricco on the arm and, without so much as a hello, engaged him in conversation. Ricco gave Lea a covert eye roll and Lea smiled. Go do your thing.

  As Ricco turned away, giving his full attention to the woman Lea watched on thoughtfully. Tonight might not exactly be fun, but this was all very illuminating. Then her mind turned to the next problem. What would she do if Ricco really suggested Netflix and chill for their next date?

  5

  While Ricco made the rounds in the gallery, passed from one group to the next, his presence eclipsing the exhibits as he went Lea looked at all the sculptures, strangely contorted figures and odd shapes dipped in gold. They were beautiful in their way, but their messages, if they had any, seemed to remain just out of her grasp. Every so often, Ricco would catch her eye and grimace and she’d give him a thumbs up. She didn’t mind remaining on the fringes. She didn’t care that nobody paid her any attention. It was entertaining enough to just watch, observe how the groups fluttered and flocked around Ricco and, to a lesser extent, a skinny, tattooed guy who had to be the artist, and who seemed content sharing his limelight.

  After an hour of this Joanne sought her out. “Ricco says he’s ready when you are,” she announced.

  “Sure.” Lea scanned the room. “Where is he?”

  Joanne nodded toward the front. “Outside, holding court.”

  Standing on tiptoe Lea could see Ricco disappearing behind a wall of bodies while flashlights exploded again, and excited shouts were audible way back in the gallery. The spectacle made Lea’s throat close up. How can he stand this?

  “How are we getting away?” she asked Joanne, suppressing the panic that threatened to erupt.

  “He’ll deal with the fans,” Joanne replied. “He knows what he’s doing. There’s a car waiting for him, we’ll let him get clear. But don’t worry, he’s not abandoning you. As soon as he’s gone I’ll take you to his place in my car.” She glanced around with a frown. “Suits me well. I hate this sort of thing, but Ricco begged me to come. We used to do this a lot, you know. I was his PR rep for a time when he first started out." Her glance to the throngs of fans outside was one of satisfaction now. "This is what we used to dream about."

  “You don’t have to—” Lea began, but Joanne cut her off.

  “Don’t worry about it, darling. He’s glad to go. These things stopped being fun for him a long time ago.” She patted Lea’s arm, then looked out at the street again. “Oh good, he’s gone. I’ll call my driver.”

  Getting out of the gallery was easier than getting in. Nobody gave her and Joanne more than a cursory glance. Frumpy and mid-thirties does have its advantages. Lea smoothed down her dress and climbed into the back of a gray sedan.

  “I could just walk,” she said to Joanne. “It’s not far.”

  Joanne moved along the seat to make space. “I know you can. But he insisted.” She regarded Lea. “So, how do you two know each other?”

  "We hardly do. I'm currently living in his building." Lea felt tongue-tied. Why was this celebrity businesswoman so interested in her? "We met in the hallway a few weeks ago. I still haven't watched his show. It sounds too fantastical for me, and too brutal. There's enough blood and gore at work." She was rambling now and clamped her mouth firmly shut.

  Before Joanne could ask any more questions Lea’s phone beeped. Lea pulled it out of her purse.

  Sorry about all that, the text from Ricco read. Come 2 me 4 a drink? Bit of medicine to help us sleep, doc… x

  Lea tried to control her features. The invitation had given her butterflies. She quickly typed, Okay, 5 mins, and stopped herself from sending back a kiss. When she looked up from her phone Joanne’s expression was one of amusement. Before she could comment, however, the car stopped outside Ricco and Lea’s building.

  “Thanks for everything, Joanne,” she said as she scrambled from the car. “Good night!”

  The closing door cut off Joanne’s reply but it sounded very much like, “Now behave, children.”

  “Bet you’re mad as hell,” Ricco said instead of a hello.

  Lea gave a sigh. Why did he look so worried? “Of course I’m not mad. Why would I be?”

  Ricco looked relieved but kept shooting her glances. Then he seemed to remember that they were still standing in the hallway and waved her inside. “What’re you drinking?”

  “Uh…I’ll have what you’re having,” she said. “Don’t make a fuss just for me.”

  Ricco’s smile was almost shy. “But I want to. Gotta make amends.”

  He beckoned and Lea followed him upstairs. He made for a cabinet which he opened with a flourish. It looked like a miniature bar, crammed with spirit bottles of various kinds, glasses, snacks, coasters, and napk
ins.

  “Whatever you want, I have it,” he said proudly. “And there’s wine and beer in the refrigerator.”

  It seemed churlish to refuse. “Can I have a gin and tonic?”

  Ricco grinned. “That would’ve been my guess.”

  Lea wondered how he could possibly know, but let it go without comment. He’s cute, but a bit weird.

  As Ricco made her drink she said, “Just for the record, there’s no need to make anything up to me, okay?”

  He added a splash of tonic water from a small cooler hidden behind another panel. “I didn’t think, y’know. I thought you’d want to go somewhere exciting. Our next outing will be less complicated, I promise.”

  Our next outing… Butterflies filled Lea’s stomach.

  “You don’t have to take me anywhere,” she said, then regretted it instantly.

  Ricco looked at her, and Lea’s heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze. “I know I don’t have to. But I want to.”

  Lea was a practical, rational person, a scientist, and she didn’t hold with romantic nonsense. But for a moment, as he held her gaze, time stood still. Then Ricco picked up her drink and his own bottle of beer. “C’mon, let’s go up on the roof. It’s not cold, and I’m dying for a smoke.”

  He handed Lea her drink and picked something up from the coffee table before climbing the tightly spiraling staircase in the far corner of the room.

  Lea climbed after him. At the top of the stairs was a small vestibule and a skylight perched on top of the roof. Ricco pushed open a sliding door and stepped outside, quickly swallowed by the darkness. Lea followed.

  For a late November night it was almost balmy, and even in her light jacket, she didn't feel cold. Lea went to the railing, gazing out over the rooftops. The view was amazing, Little Italy and Chinatown stretched out below, its clamor and bustle a faint ripple of sound up here. Lea turned to study the roof terrace. It was huge, with chairs and loungers, and plant pots dotted here and there. A covered barbeque grill stood next to the screen doors. It had to be heaven in summer.