When the front door opened, I poked my head out of the bathroom, half-expecting Manning to have broken in again, but it was Val. My best friend and roommate hurried into the living room, her spiral curls bouncing around her ears in the odd, grow-out stage of a “do-not-mention” haircut. Since Felicity had aired on the WB a year earlier, Val had consistently been mistaken for the TV show’s star, Keri Russell. But Val needed to be her own person, so in an act of rebellion, she’d chopped off her beautiful, blonde ringlets over the summer. And then Felicity had debuted the same haircut in October. Now, not only did Val look even more like Felicity, but people thought she’d copied the show, which really got Val going.
“I’m on break from a double shift.” Val untied the waist apron she wore to wait tables at a chain restaurant in Midtown. She blew by me, unbuttoning her starchy blouse. “Some brat threw a fucking bowl of mac and cheese at me.” Pinching the shirt by its collar, she made a face and dumped it into a hamper in the corner. “That shit is hot and yellow and—don’t you work tonight?”
Part of me wanted to tell her about my visit from the past, but the other part knew better. “I called in sick,” I said as she flurried around me.
“Yeah? Why?” She ran into the bathroom where her back-up uniform hung on the shower curtain bar. “Damn. Of course it’s still damp.” She pulled it down, slipping it over her shoulders as she went to the mirror. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Buttoning up the blouse, she glanced at me in the reflection, then turned. “Holy shit. You’re wearing the CK dress! You look amazing.”
I smoothed my hands over my stomach. “Really?”
“Where are you headed dressed like that? One of Corbin’s functions?”
“I’m going to see a show, actually.” I left it at that and ducked around her to grab my hairbrush. When she didn’t respond, I continued, “I’m overdressed, but who knows when I’ll get a chance to wear this again?”
“Are you going with Corbin?” she asked.
“No.” I combed my hair, avoiding her eyes.
“Who then?”
Val was the only person who knew the whole truth about Manning and me. She wouldn’t like that I was seeing him tonight, but I didn’t want to lie to my best friend. After all she’d done for me since we’d moved here, I owed her the truth. “You remember Manning?”
She didn’t respond. I didn’t have to see Val’s face to know her reaction. Warmth crept up my neck as she made me stand there in silence that grew louder and louder.
“Hmm, Manning,” she said finally. “I think so. If you’re talking about the sorry, cowardly piece of shit who broke your heart . . . then yes, I recall.”
I set the hairbrush down. “That was years ago.”
“I remember. I was there as you basically fell apart at his wedding—to your sister. As you cried yourself to sleep every night for—I don’t even know how long. Maybe you still do. I was there when I spent my first Christmas away from my mom so you wouldn’t be alone during the holidays.”
“I know. I get it.” I turned and braced myself against the sink. “It’s not what it looks like. He’s in town for work, and my mom bought us tickets to—”
She grabbed my shoulders, stunning me into silence. “What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m going to see a Broadway show, it’s not a big deal,” I shot back, wiggling free from her grip to leave the bathroom.
“How can it not be a big deal? How did this even happen?” She followed me to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway, her shirt cockeyed and exposing her navel because she’d missed a button. “Who does he think he is, calling you out of the blue?”
“He came by this morning.”
“And you slammed the door in his face, right?” she asked. “Is that why the lock is fucked up?”
I found my stilettos where I’d dropped them earlier and sat on the edge of the bed to buckle the straps. “It’s just dinner and a show. That’s it.”
“Dinner? Are you insane, Lake?”
“Stop yelling at me.”
“No.”
The sharpness of the word forced me to look up at her. Her red face didn’t distract me from the sheen over her eyes. She barely knew Manning, and she was the one crying? “How could he do this again?” she asked.
I was tempted to defend Manning, and that was proof Val was right. He’d already begun to get to me. It wasn’t fair to myself, or to her, either—she’d been by my side since the night on the beach I’d told her I had feelings for my sister’s fiancé. “I know,” I said. “I turned him down at first, but then I changed my mind. I already agreed.”
“Because he knows you can’t say no to him. He knows how badly he hurt you, yet he has the balls to show his face here. He’s an asshole and a coward. A felon, a liar, and maybe even a cheat.” She put her hands on her hips. “If he shows up here, I’ll call Corbin to come take care of this.”
“Corbin already knows.”
“He knows you’re going out with Manning? That you’re getting all dolled up for him?”
“No.” My face burned hot with embarrassment that I’d gotten caught wanting to look nice for him. “Corbin knows Manning’s in town, and this is normal attire for Broadway—”
“Don’t give me that shit. You’re dressing up for him because you’re still in love with him.”
Still in love with him. I hid my shiver by crossing my arms. Neither Val nor I had said Manning’s name in months, because it saddened me and upset her, but that didn’t mean I was fooling either of us. Hearing her acknowledge my feelings for him for the first time in a while made me realize my love for Manning hadn’t lessened even a little. That was why I’d agreed to meet him. That was why I’d taken extra care to look good tonight. But that didn’t mean I forgot, even for a second, what he’d done to me. “He’s my sister’s husband,” I said. “That’s all. I think he and I can have a simple meal like civilized adults.”
“Really?” She stomped across the room toward my dresser.
“What are you doing?” I asked, standing.
“If you don’t have feelings for him, you won’t mind if I destroy this, right?” she asked, digging her hand into my underwear drawer.
“Wait!” I leaped toward her. “Don’t.”
She held up the small wooden box I thought nobody knew about. I tried to grab it from her, but she jumped back and showed it to me. “A few minutes in Corbin’s fancy fireplace should do the trick,” she said.
“Stop it.” The box might’ve been small, but it and its contents were some of the only sentimental things I owned anymore. “I only have it for the earrings, and they’re worth a lot.”
Val opened it and showed me the inside. There were no earrings, only the mood ring I’d found in Manning’s things at the courthouse so many years ago, right after he’d been arrested. “Funny,” she said. “Somehow these earrings turned into a cheap-ass ring Manning never technically gave you.”
“Tiffany didn’t even buy those earrings, my dad did, and it was probably out of guilt for how he treated me.”
“Didn’t you pawn them for rent money?” Val asked.
Ashamed, I stopped trying to fight her, stopped fighting at all, and let the tears flood my eyes. “I don’t know what to say, Val. Do I still love him? How could I not? But he’s changed, and so have I. I’m smarter now. I’m not going to let him hurt me again. I promise. Please don’t ruin the box. Or the ring.”
“He chose your sister, Lake. He married her.” Val shook her head at me. “Four years, completely undone. We’ve been working through this for four years, and he’s going to unravel it in a night.”
“I won’t let that happen. You’re blowing an innocent dinner way out of proportion.”
“Does Tiffany know about it?”
I went quiet, and that was all the answer Val needed. Of course Tiffany didn’t know, because it wasn’t innocent. It wasn’t simple. Manning and I could never be either of
those things, no matter how hard we pretended or how much time had passed. “No,” I admitted.
“Of course she doesn’t,” she said. “They are still married, right?”
“He wasn’t wearing a ring, so I’m not sure . . .”
“You didn’t even ask?” Val tossed the wooden box at me. I jumped into action, catching it so it wouldn’t hit the ground.
“I didn’t ask because I was scared of the answer,” I said, “not because I don’t care about hurting her.”
Val left the room, and I followed. She gathered up her apron and purse from the coffee table. “You know something, Lake? I’ve hated him all this time. You were young, and so fucking optimistic, and I hated him for stealing some of that from you. But you’re an adult now.” Tying on her waist apron, she pinned me with a look. “If you go down this path, you have no one to blame but yourself.”
Her words stung. I loved Val, her spirit and her loyalty, but she didn’t know Manning like I did. She didn’t understand what he and I had been through. “I take full responsibility,” I said. “Trust me—I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you? You’re an idiot if you think he can’t ruin you in a night. I’ve seen him do it. I’m not going to stick around for an encore. And don’t worry, I’m not going to waste Corbin’s time with this. You’re on your own.” She walked down the hall, looping her purse strap across her body. “At least this time when Manning crushes you, you’ll know it’s coming.”
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there watching the door after she left. Wave after wave of tears hit, but I did my best to breathe through them. It wasn’t so much Val’s harsh words that stung, but the fact that she was right. I still loved Manning. Still hadn’t figured out how to resist him. I’d worn my hair down hoping he’d touch it again. I’d chosen my highest heels to feel closer to him. I’d almost let him kiss me this morning, in this same spot, despite the fact that he was married and had hurt me before.
I shoved aside some Jane magazines, knocking over a bottle of tommy girl, and sank onto the coffee table. I had to be stronger than I’d been back then. The jewelry box’s corners cut into my palm so I opened my hand. I’d tried so many times to throw this memory away, but I’d dug through trashcans for it. I’d taken it to a pawn shop, only to snatch it back from the man behind the counter before he’d even had a chance to look at it. Not that it or the ring was worth anything. It was just a box.
The morning of the wedding had been the same day I’d met Henry, Manning’s best man, more of a father to Manning than his own dad. Henry had come to my hotel room to deliver my maid-of-honor gift from Tiffany—a polished, walnut wood box that had fit in the palm of my hand and had been engraved.
Lake Kaplan
Maid of Honor, 1995
I remembered back to the moment Henry had handed it over to me.
“It’s beautiful.” My voice broke. “Tell him thank you.”
“Him?” Henry asked.
“Manning. He made it, didn’t he?”
“He sure did.” Henry held out his palm for the box. “May I?”
I gave it to him, and he studied it like I had, his fingers grazing over each corner and ledge, testing the brass hinges on back. “Manning’s got talent. I heard he’s making some furniture, too.” He passed it back. “How’d you know it was from him?”
“We’re friends.” I looked for any recognition that Manning might’ve mentioned me, but there was nothing. “We were friends before . . . all this.”
“That so? I have a daughter a little younger than you. You’ll meet her tonight.” He nodded. “I always wished she and Manning were closer in age. He’ll make your sister a good husband.”
Teeth clenched, I breathed through my nose as the word scraped out whatever was left inside me. Husband.
Henry was looking at me a little funny, so I pushed through the stinging in my chest and replied, “Yes, he will.”
“I’m glad to see Manning become part of such a nice family. He’s a good kid. A really good kid.”
I’d never heard anyone refer to Manning as a kid. I tried to keep the emotion from my voice. “I know he is.”
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Henry asked.
“Open what?”
“The box. That’s not the gift, you know. It’s inside.”
“Oh.” I creaked open the lid. Two small diamond earrings winked at me.
I’d worn the earrings during the wedding so as not to upset Tiffany, but they were gone now, replaced by a cheap piece of costume jewelry Manning didn’t even know I’d kept.
I sat there, turning the box over in my hands, until I went and set it on my dresser. In the bathroom, I pinned my hair into a quick up-do. I was almost finished when the downstairs buzzer sounded through the apartment. Manning was a half hour early. I didn’t move. I had a choice to make. Why had he almost kissed me when he knew perfectly well it’d do nothing but damage? Was Val right that he knew I couldn’t say no to him?
Was I even strong enough to send him away?
5
Lake
Manning stood on my doorstep, hair combed back, cleanly shaven in a pressed suit and cobalt-blue tie. He looked every inch the gentleman—except for a Home Depot bag in his hand, as if he were actually holding on to a piece of his old self. He took my breath away, leaving me no choice but to stare at him.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“It’s just . . .” I didn’t like this suit much better than the first one, simply because it wasn’t Manning. That didn’t mean he didn’t fill it out perfectly, though, with his broad shoulders and trim torso. “Hardly anyone dresses up for the theater anymore.”
“You do,” he said, scanning my gown. His perusal had always had a special power over me, mostly because of how we’d subsist for weeks or months on furtive glances alone. He took me in, from my bare toenails up to my hair. “You look beautiful. Like a grownup.”
To anyone else, it might’ve sounded like an odd compliment, but to me it said everything. Manning had resisted all his urges over the years, afraid he’d corrupt a young, innocent girl. I wasn’t that girl anymore, and he saw it. Finally. One of the stupid tears I’d been holding in from my fight with Val slipped out.
“Hey.” He reached up. “Don’t cry.”
I turned my face away, wiping my own cheek. “I’m fine. What’s in the bag?”
He looked disappointed by my brushoff, but let me change the subject. “Stuff to fix your door.”
“Oh.” I stepped back as he came inside. “You don’t have to.”
“Did you think I’d let you spend a night here with a broken lock? What would you have done?”
I rubbed my nose to get it to stop tingling. “I don’t know. Sometimes we stick a chair under the handle.”
He looked at me dead on. “Jesus Christ, Lake. Don’t tell me that.”
“You asked.”
He opened the hall closet and squatted to rummage through the cardboard box of tools. “Someone could pop that door right open in the middle of the night,” he said.
“Someone meaning . . . you?” I asked.
He stopped inspecting a screwdriver and let his eyes travel up my body. I thought of him breaking all the rules, then the walls we’d built between us, and then the locks in the night to finally get to me. “If it was in my way,” he said, “yes.”
I suppressed a shiver. We’d flirted before but never when he wasn’t trying to hide or stop it. Right there in his gaze was the heat I’d fantasized about, and years apart hadn’t dulled it.
While Manning worked, I touched up my makeup where it’d smeared and managed to avoid looking myself in the eye the entire time. I had no idea how I could go through with this. Or exactly how dangerous it was. If I got hurt tonight, it would be my fault. If I hurt someone else, I’d be to blame. I was choosing this. There was still time to stop it, and yet I wouldn’t. Val was wrong; one night didn’t mean I was willing to forget everything. I’d grown up the past four y
ears—I’d had to.
“Goddamn it,” Manning said. “I didn’t get the right measurements. You have a fucked-up door.”
If I’d had any question about whether Manning still thought of me as a girl, him cursing in front of me was my answer. He’d done it so rarely back then, it still sounded a bit foreign. “Just leave it. There’s hardly anything valuable in here.” I came out of the bathroom, picked a clutch from my bedroom, and met him in the entryway. Noting the wrinkles between his eyes were unnaturally deep, I told him a little white lie. “I’ll get the super to replace it in the morning. Let’s go.”
He shoved the box into the closet, then selected a black, polyester coat from the rack. “This yours?” he asked, taking it off the hanger as if he did it all the time.
“Yes, but it’ll ruin my outfit. I don’t own anything nice enough to go with this.”
He opened it for me to slip in. “You’ll freeze.”
I didn’t want to wear it, but considering this dress was all straps and open back, he was right. I’d be cold. I took the jacket and reluctantly put it on.
“Almost forgot.” He patted the lapel of his suit. From the inside pocket, he took something squishy wrapped in tissue. “There’s a holiday market happening in Union Square and I noticed you weren’t wearing gloves earlier.”
Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection Page 57
