by K. A. Linde
“Oh…I can get a cab.” I took a step and nearly fell into him.
He smiled and caught me with ease. “Better safe than sorry, Miss Bishop.”
“Let him take you.” Jane flitted her hand. “I’ll be fine here. I have more convincing to do with Kendrick.”
“All right. That would be nice.”
Lewis took my hand and gentlemanly placed it on his elbow, and then he whisked me out of Tilted Glass. A black Mercedes appeared in front of us. Lewis held the door open for me, and I all but fell inside.
“I think I’m drunk,” I told him when he sank into the seat next to me.
He chuckled and brushed a stray strand of hair from my shoulder. “I noticed that.”
“I wasn’t going to invite you tonight.”
“Well, I’m glad that you did.”
My blue eyes met his dark depths. He was so fucking hot. It was ridiculous. How did they make the men on the Upper East Side? Was it just the outstanding wealth? Or were they somehow their own breed entirely?
“Why do you want this?” I muttered. A question I never would have had the guts to ask while sober.
His hand slid up into my hair, fingering the silver strands. “Because you are entirely you, unequivocally you. Fearless, stubborn, brazen, and strikingly independent. You say what you mean and mean what you say. There are no games with you. No questions about where your head is.”
“Right now, my head is spinning.”
He just grinned at me. “You want this, too.”
“Maybe,” I whispered.
“I can tell in the way your eyes find me and the soft pant in your breath as I hold you and the rise of your chest when I get near.”
His lips were nearly upon mine. And all those things he’d said weren’t wrong. I wanted to kiss him. Fuck, before, I’d never wanted to stop kissing him. Only my conscience had gotten in the way. And now…now, I’d left that with the second martini.
I pushed forward, capturing his lips. Yes, I wanted this.
My hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer, closer, closer. There was too much space. Not enough skin.
I dragged my leg over his and straddled him in the backseat of the car. His hands slipped down to my waist as our kisses turned even more feverish. Tongues tasting, testing, knowing. Lips urgent and aggressive. I could feel his thickness through the soft material of his suit pants. My core pulsed at the feel of him. Wantonness took over as my body awakened, yawning open and suddenly remembering in sharp clarity how good this all felt.
I reached for the buckle of his belt when his hand clamped around my wrist.
“Natalie,” he exhaled, leaning his forehead against mine.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“Not like this.”
“You don’t want to?”
He coughed a laugh. “Oh, I do. I really do. But…you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Not that much.” I knew it was a lie even as I said it.
He kissed me once more, soft and tempting. A kiss that left me aching for more.
“Too much,” he said. “I won’t take advantage of your inebriation. Move to New York, and we’ll have plenty of time.”
“Lewis,” I groaned.
“It’s selfish. I want you here. But, beyond that, it’s good for your career.” He pulled back to look me in the eyes. “At least tell me that you’ll consider.”
I sighed, giving in to that gaze and those lips and the red-hot desire still hitting me like a freight train. “I’ll consider it.”
Natalie
12
I didn’t move to New York, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Even as my sister, Melanie, and her douche boyfriend, Michael, argued in front of me as if I weren’t present. Or as Amy went about her normal routine in Montgomery Gallery as if she hadn’t had the most amazing weekend with Enzo. Or as I tried to act as if everything were back to normal.
But I wasn’t back to normal. I was still stuck on this damn novel. The inspiration I’d had while in New York had vanished as soon as it had come. Caroline wanted a full synopsis and to read the pages, but I seriously wasn’t ready for that.
“Oh my god, would you two shut your mouths?” Amy yelled, finally blowing a gasket.
Melanie’s mouth snapped shut. Michael whirled on Amy as if he was going to give her a piece of his mind.
“Don’t even think about it.” Amy pointed her finger at him. “You’re in my gallery, and you can get the hell out if you so much as use the wrong tone with Melanie again.”
Michael schooled his features into disinterest and began to speak to Melanie less erratically. Melanie had come over straight from her last class at Grimke University, Charleston’s resident Southern Ivy, to pick me up to go to dinner at our parents’ tonight. Michael had shown up, unannounced, a few minutes later, and yelling had ensued. I didn’t even know what they’d been arguing about. It felt like everything lately. Ever since he’d dumped her to go to homecoming with her best friend last year, things had never been the same. And only Melanie didn’t see it.
“Now that I have some peace and quiet, I have to get back to work. Are you having any luck writing?” Amy asked me.
I shook my head. “Like, another chapter, but that’s it.”
“Another chapter is better than nothing. Maybe this book will just take longer to write.”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
My phone dinged in my hand, and I grinned at the picture Lewis had sent over. It was him in a black peacoat, standing in Central Park with the Bethesda Fountain in the background. There was only one line under it.
Miss you.
A grin split my face before I could think better of it. Amy leaned over my shoulder when she saw it.
“Jesus, he is smitten.” Then, she glanced up at me. “And he’s not the only one.”
I laughed and closed out of the picture. “I don’t know if smitten is the word. But he’s something.”
“He’s totally into you.”
“Too bad he’s a thousand miles away.”
“He did ask you to move to New York,” Amy conceded.
“Yeah, I’ll add that to the list of horrible ideas I have.”
“Why would that be a horrible idea besides the fact that you’d be leaving me behind?”
“A hundred percent because you’d be here,” I said with a laugh. Amy nudged me. “I mean, first, money. Second, I don’t even know if I’ll get another book contract. Third, I hardly know anyone there. It would be insanely impulsive.”
“First, you have money. Second, you’re going to get another book contract. Third, you know enough people. And impulsive works for you.”
I waved a hand at her. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but I always solidly came down on a maybe. There were a million more reasons to stay than to go. But New York called to me, and I couldn’t ignore her siren call.
I was about to respond when my phone started ringing. “Hello?”
“Natalie, it’s Gillian.”
“Hey, Gillian. How are you?”
“Girl, I am out of this world. Do you know what today is?”
“Uh…” I glanced at my phone. “November thirteenth?”
“Wednesday,” she said as if that were more obvious.
“Okay…”
“New York Times released their best-sellers list.”
“Oh my god,” I whispered.
My stomach dropped. I hadn’t known that it came out on Wednesday. Or that I should even be looking for it. I’d hoped, of course. Who wouldn’t hope? But I’d never thought it would be my reality. It was my debut. It was a dream. This just didn’t happen.
“You hit at number three on the hardcover list.”
A buzzing filled my head.
I’d hit. I’d hit. I’d hit.
I didn’t know what to say or think or feel. All of a sudden, I burst into tears. I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to. I sobbed uncontrollably as emotions jolted through
me. As all my dreams seemed to come true at once. My hands were shaking. Distantly, I saw Amy turn to me with concern. Melanie brushing past Michael to find out what was wrong. But I couldn’t process it. Any of it.
“Oh, Natalie! Congratulations! I knew this book would be huge. And, now, you’re a New York Times bestselling author! So well deserved. It’s been such a pleasure bringing this book to life.”
“Thank you, Gillian! I can’t even believe this is real.”
“It is. You’re brilliant. I’m so proud of you.”
I blubbered incoherently a few more minutes before hanging up the phone. I glanced up into the startled faces of my friends.
“What happened?” Melanie gasped. “Is everything all right?”
“I…I hit the New York Times.”
“Oh my god!” Melanie shrieked at the same time as Amy. They jumped up and down and then threw their arms around me as one.
“This is amazing, Nat,” Amy said, squeezing the life out of me.
“I’m so excited!” Melanie cried. “We have to celebrate.”
“Drinks on Natalie,” Michael said with a chuckle.
A sign of how immersed I was in my news was that I actually laughed at Michael. “Drinks on me. But, first…I need to tell Mom.”
“She’s going to flip out,” Melanie gasped.
“I know.”
“Let’s go to her shop now! She’ll never expect it!”
“Damn, I wish I could see her reaction,” Amy said. “Stupid gallery!”
“Let’s do it,” I said.
Melanie hugged me again. “I have the car.”
“You’re just going to leave?” Michael asked.
She waffled for a minute as if she had to think about how to respond to him. “I’ll call you later.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?”
“Michael, it’s for Nat.”
He looked like he was going to breathe fire.
“We’re leaving. Come on, Mel,” I said, stepping between them and pulling her toward the gallery exit. “See you, Amy!”
As soon as we were out of the gallery, Melanie jammed her finger down on the open button on the clicker for her Honda Civic. She basically ripped open her door before dropping into the driver’s side.
I slipped in after her. “Michael is…something.”
“I don’t want to talk about him right now, Nat. I know you don’t like him.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
Melanie shot me a look to tell me to shut up and then put the car in reverse. I promptly shut up. She knew how I felt about Michael. It wasn’t a secret. No need to keep discussing it.
She zipped across town to our mom’s New Age shop, Ascension Books & Gifts. I’d always thought that the books and gifts part was a little misleading. It was primarily full of crystals, incense, tarot cards, special teas, and other metaphysical tools of her trade. The books mostly consisted of instructions on how to read crystal balls, interpret cards, and clean chakras. I still hadn’t discovered what she considered gifts. It just looked like a magic shop on the inside.
My mom had a slew of regular patrons who kept the shop open. And tourists who wanted their palms read and fortunes told usually made up the rest of the customers. Right now, thankfully, it was empty.
“Welcome to Ascension,” my mother said as the bell jangled overhead.
“Hi, Mom,” Melanie said.
“Oh, my daughters have graced me with their presence and at the same time. What must be the occasion?”
I hugged her and then pulled back to admire her beautiful, celestial blouse. “I like this. Where did you get it?”
“You always had style,” my mother said with a laugh then gestured to Melanie. “You, on the other hand.”
“Hey, I’m the one with style!” Melanie said. “I’m the one studying fashion.”
“The seventies were so much more fetching,” my mother said. She winked at me as Melanie huffed. “Now, tell me why you’re here. Something momentous I feel. I read it last night. I see you’re here now to tell me. What is it?”
“I hit the New York Times.”
“Oh, baby,” my mother said, “congratulations! I drew The World in tarot last night, and here it is. You’ll begin your new journey after this.”
I laughed. It was no use interpreting my mother’s predictions. She always had them, and only half of them ever had any semblance of truth.
“Thank you, Mom. I wanted to tell you first.”
“Have you told your father?”
I frowned and shook my head. My father didn’t exactly support my decision to be an author. He’d been aloof about the whole thing since I got an English degree.
“No, of course not,” she said, easily reading me.
I shrugged. “I’ll tell him at dinner.”
“He’ll be happy for you, I think.” My mom waved her hands about. “Now, sit. Sit. Both of you. I just put tea on. We’ll read.”
Melanie and I shared a look that said we both knew there was no point in turning her down. So, we sat with her and waited for the tea.
“Why aren’t you happy about this?” my mother asked as soon as the tea was in front of us.
“What? I am happy,” I said.
She gave me a shrewd look. “We’ve all noticed. Haven’t we, Melanie?”
“True,” Melanie agreed.
“What is this, an ambush?”
“She’s not wrong, Nat. You’ve just been kind of skating by.”
“You’ve been at college. How would you know?”
“Just think that I’ve been at college, and I’ve still noticed.”
My mother nodded. “You have everything you’ve ever wanted and no joy. Is it because you haven’t been working on your new book?”
I frowned. Maybe my mother was more intuitive than I gave her credit for. Or…maybe her readings were right. Sometimes, I wondered.
“Well, I was writing when I was in New York, but I came home, and everything got all muddled again. I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
“Have you considered that maybe this isn’t your home?” my mother asked.
I laughed. “Of course it is.”
“No,” Melanie said. “It’s my home. You didn’t grow up here, and you were happier when you were traveling.”
“Well, I can’t do that anymore, can I?”
“Can’t you?” my mother asked. “What’s stopping you? Money? You have that now. You could live wherever you wanted or travel the world.”
“Alone?” I asked softly.
I couldn’t believe that my mom and Melanie were saying the same damn thing that Jane and Lewis had said. It was like the universe was pointing me in one direction, even as I fought it at all costs.
“Would you truly be alone?” Melanie asked with a wink. “I saw that picture you were sent.”
“Oh, shush you,” I said with a laugh.
“Look, no matter your differences, you are your father’s daughter. You shouldn’t stay in one place too long. You need travel and adventure. Melanie and I are homebodies. Her world is here. As is mine. Yours isn’t.”
I took a long sip of my tea while I took in their words. Maybe they were right. Maybe I’d just been skating around the real issue. I wanted to move to New York. I wanted to live that life. But at the same time, I didn’t want to be part of the Upper East Side. Was there a way to live the life I wanted in New York and not be a part of the Upper East Side?
“Did you already read for me before this?” I finally asked.
My mother shook her head with a smile. “It’s painted on your face.”
I handed over my empty teacup. “Well, what do you see?”
My mother took the cup and stared down into the leaves at the bottom. She smiled softly. “Birds.”
“Birds?” I took the cup back and looked in it. And there it was…birds mid-flight. Even I could see it.
“Do I even have to tell you what that means?” my mother asked with a raised eyebrow
. “Fly, my darling. Fly.”
Natalie
13
I flew.
And, two weeks later, I was standing in my own apartment on the Upper West Side. New York City might have ruined my life. But it had also brought me everything my heart had ever wanted. It was the city of dreams, and I intended to dive in headfirst.
It did nothing to dispel the nagging bit of fear that said that this was too good to be true. Or that moving here wouldn’t even work. Maybe I couldn’t write in New York City either.
I smothered the thought. It’d do no good, fretting on that. I had moved to New York to write, and write I would.
As soon as I finished unpacking. It was amazing, the amount of stuff I hadn’t accumulated when living out of a suitcase for a year and a half and then hunkering down in my best friend’s guest bedroom for a year. I really had nothing and was lucky that I’d been able to bring what I could to try to fill the small apartment.
But, by that afternoon, I thought I’d done a decent enough job unpacking. Writing would likely have to begin tomorrow since I’d promised Lewis that I would celebrate with him when he got off work. He’d been texting me all day, and I couldn’t deny that I had something like butterflies of anticipation in my stomach.
For the first time ever, the buzzer sounded from the apartment door. I squealed in excitement and rushed to answer it.
I pressed the button and said, “Hello?”
“Natalie, it’s Lewis. Buzz me up.”
“Yay! Doing it now.” I pressed the button and paced in front of the door until I heard a knock.
I wrenched the door open. Lewis Warren stood in the doorway, looking sexy as hell in a white button-up, rolled to his elbows, his peacoat folded over his arm, and a bottle of champagne in his hand.
A wide grin split his face. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey,” I breathed.
I’d been anxious and excited about this meeting all day. Worried that the spark between us hadn’t been real. That he’d see me differently. Or that it wouldn’t really work out now that I was here because I wasn’t Upper East Side…or whatever. That it would start to feel wrong again. Like we shouldn’t be doing this.
