"We'll be there soon," he said cheerfully.
My stomach let out a nice rumble. "Ohmygoodness, my body is conspiring against me."
"You worked a long day and you probably didn't eat much. Give yourself a break."
"Okay."
"Seeing as we don't have big bags, I thought maybe we'd eat on the way back to my place. If that's fine with you."
"My stomach will be grateful." I peered at his tablet. "What are you reading?"
"Tolstoy."
"No, really."
"I'm reading Tolstoy," he said again.
"No one actually reads Tolstoy for their own pleasure, do they?"
"I'm not reading it for my own pleasure. I'm reading it because I'm doing a Masters in Literature."
"In all your free time?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"You always have loved reading; you were reading the day I met you," I said, remembering how sexy I'd thought that was. And to be honest, it still was.
"Exactly and with all the travel I do, I have lots of alone time in strange places, which gives me time to read and study."
It made sense I supposed. I just didn't know anyone else who studied for pleasure. Then again, Luke did come from a family of academics. "Do you like the travel?"
"It's okay. I don't dislike it. If I ever find the right girl, I'll give it away."
"You'd give up your job?"
"I could do my job and travel a whole lot less. Lots of parts of my job could be delegated, but right now I don't mind doing them, so I do. I'm sure some of the young guns who work for me would love to do all the traveling for a while."
He was an interesting guy. That was for sure. "Do you wish you'd stopped traveling for Marigold?"
"That was a different situation and a different time. It wouldn't have made any difference if I'd been traveling or not, despite what her father says. That's his story and that's fine, but Marigold had troubles way before me." The lights of New York came into view. "I'm going to use the bathroom." And he was gone. That was more than he'd told me before, so that was something. I couldn't understand how Luke, who was so sweet and so cute, had ended up with a woman who was so messed up, but he sure wasn't that keen to tell me.
#
He chose an extremely cool Chinese restaurant that was more like an Asian speakeasy than a restaurant. He had apparently wanted to go there for some time but didn't have the right person to take.
"Lots of my friends are married now, some have little kids and have moved to the 'burbs. And, of course, just because one went to college in New York doesn't mean one stays here. My best friend from college lives in Anchorage of all places," he said, grabbing an elegant dumpling and popping it in his mouth.
"I hear you," I said. "I've been pretty lucky in that regard, but now that Piper is with Aaron, and she really is my best friend, I'm missing her."
"She's your best friend and you never told her about us?"
"I never told anyone," I replied, giving my own dumpling a swirl in some Asian chili sauce.
"No one?"
I shook my head. "Nope. Not a soul."
"Wow."
"What did you do, take out an ad in the New York Times?"
He chuckled. "No, but I told my best friend and my parents."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I was trying to make sense of it all. I needed to talk."
"How very girly of you!" I teased.
"That's me. There was also the crying and the eating of ice cream."
"I'm sorry you cried," I said.
"I hope you didn't."
I looked at him. Was he serious? Of course I cried. Which I told him and added, "You left with no notice. You never said good-bye. One day you're all over me like I'm the most beautiful creature in the universe and then the cone of silence. Of course there were tears."
"You were, no you are, the most beautiful creature in the universe and I'm sorry. I didn't handle that well."
"No, you didn't."
I hadn't expected us to go here. I thought we'd just leave the elephant in the corner of the room but here we were. It was nice that he thought I was beautiful but that didn't change much, did it?
"I still have no idea what happened," I said, stabbing a rice paper roll.
"I overheard you telling someone at the donut shop that there was no way you'd ever go out with a guy like me."
"Yeah, because it was a secret relationship."
"Yes, but the way you said it, at the time, it sounded real. And then you said something about me being a loser or whatever and . . ."
I had to cast my mind back . . . and then it came to me, the whole conversation.
I was in the back of the donut shop with Jenny di Viola. I hated Jenny. She'd gone out with my brother Tony and broken his heart. She was a gossip and a bitch. And it was her second day on the job. Now I had to work with her.
"I've seen you talking to that blond guy a lot," she said, fishing for gossip.
"Which one?" I played the dumb card.
"The one who is always reading."
"Oh yeah, what's up with that? Yeah, he comes in every day. Of course I talk to him."
"Nah, it's more than that."
"As if I would go out with a dork like that." I needed to sell that. "He's such a preppy. And what a nerd. So not my type."
"He's not ugly," she said.
"Yeah, but he's not hot either, and I bet he can't kiss for shit. You know no one kisses like an Italian guy."
"True," she conceded. "I totally thought you were into him."
"You thought I was into some book nerd who has nothing to do all summer but sit in this dump eating donuts? I don't think so. That would never happen in a million."
"You know what. I'm going to set you up with Mario Vespuci. Now he's a good kisser."
"Mario, huh? I don't want your sloppy seconds."
How much did he hear? And why would that upset him?
"I figured you and Mario were a match made in heaven. And I being a non-Italian dud-kisser made my exit."
"First of all, that's what you get for eavesdropping, second of all, that was part of my cover, and third, if you had listened, you would have heard that I didn't want to be set up with Mario, who was and who remains a total Neanderthal." He'd dumped me over that stupid, meaningless conversation? Seriously? I could not believe this.
"Yeah, I kind of figured a week or so later that I had probably screwed up. But by then I was in Africa and I didn't know how to fix it. The sneaking around and the isolation of being alone so much, I guess I got paranoid. Maybe you were hiding me because you were ashamed of me, maybe I was an experiment, maybe all the things I felt for you were one-sided . . ."
I just shook my head, dumbfounded by this new, and frankly ridiculous, reason for having my heart smashed to smithereens. "You, my friend, are an idiot."
"Was an idiot, I'm not quite the fool now I was then."
"We'll never know," I said. "For the record, the feelings were definitely not one-sided and I was not ashamed of you. In fact, I was planning on telling my folks about us that very weekend, but then you left. And so . . ."
"I'm sorry." He looked so sad, and I knew he was sorry. Heck, I wouldn't be in New York with him if he wasn't sorry. He wouldn't have told me he wanted another chance if he hadn't been sorry but that changed nothing. I wasn't sure that knowing this was better than not knowing. I'd been dumped for no reason at all.
"Me, too." I sighed. "You ruined a perfectly good teenage romance for no good reason."
"It was more than a teenage romance to me," he said
"That's what it was and that is all it will ever be." I put another dumpling in my mouth, not because I wanted it but because I needed to stop talking.
"I want you to know that was the most ill-advised thing I have done in my entire life. And I've regretted it ever since."
"Okay, well, let's just put that behind us and try and have a nice weekend."
I could tell he had more he wante
d to say but the waiter arrived with another dish and he seemed to think better of saying whatever it was.
Chapter 14
By the time we finally got to Luke's apartment, I was tired again. Or maybe I was tired still. The revelation of why we had broken up all those years ago had kind of knocked the wind out of me. I wasn't deluded enough to think that Luke and I would now be married and have little Lukes. Our relationship had the makings of summer romance written all over it.
At the time I didn't see it that way of course, but now with hindsight and maturity I could see that was exactly what it was. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been robbed of something. Some crossed wires and some confusion and the whole thing was over. It didn't seem like it should have ended like that.
It felt like a relationship—a relationship that honestly had affected every relationship I had had since—and it should have ended differently. Luke unlocked the apartment. It was neat and masculine. While it was obvious someone lived there, it wasn't exactly clear who. He did have a wall of books leading down his hall that was very Luke. The kitchen was sleek and modern, all white with black granite countertops. The sofas were black leather, and they looked expensive. In fact, everything looked high-end.
"So this is my humble abode. Kitchen, living room, bathroom, your room, my room.” He pointed in the direction of each.
"It's nice."
"Well, it's home, I guess." He wheeled my bag into the spare room and then took his into the room next door. "What will you need? Towels?"
He made himself busy getting towels and then popped them on my bed and rejoined me in the living room. He seemed, nervous. Or maybe he was reeling from our conversation, too. It had made things weird between us. As if they weren't already a bit odd. I was beginning to question the wisdom of coming at all.
"There are sheets on the bed already."
"You're very neat," I said.
"Cleaner," he said. "She comes every week. Not that I'm a slob, but Nina is neater than me. And she scrubs tiles."
"Maybe I need a Nina."
"You have a Nona."
"True and, if I let her, she would scrub my tiles."
"I didn't ask you what she said when you said you were coming." He was leaning on the door frame. He had some designer stubble going and he looked hotter than ever. I could see his bed behind him. I needed not to focus on the bed or the hotness.
"Oh, she said she already knew because she'd had a vision of us in New York," I answered as if it was the most natural answer in the world.
His mouth kicked up at the corner in amusement. "A vision, huh? Does that happen a lot?"
"You'd be surprised."
"Yeah, very, because I don't know anyone else who has visions."
"Apart from me." I shrugged. “Not for me, for others, it's like heightened intuition. It helps with the matchmaking."
"So, Nona thinks we need matchmaking?"
"Her visions are not exactly like mine." I lied. That's exactly what she had. She was thrilled I was going to New York because she was convinced Luke was the one who had come and gone and that we were going to be together.
"I see, that's a shame. You want a drink? Tea, coffee, water, wine?"
"Tea would be good. I might just freshen up."
His bathroom was neat and sterile. All white with a clear shower door. I noticed the shower was large with a double head. I wondered whom Luke had been showering with. Then I wondered what it would be like to be in that shower soaping Luke up. Then I splashed cold water on my face and got a grip.
He couldn't help being the one man on the planet my body seemed to want. But I could do something and control myself. What's that expression? I asked myself in the mirror. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. Right, Cherie, I reminded myself, don't let your libido shame you!
Then I walked out to the kitchen and saw Luke pouring me a nice cup of tea from a sweet little white pot that seemed at odds with his masculinity and I really had to remind myself all over again.
#
Luke's apartment was on Riverside Drive overlooking the park there. I didn't know this part of New York really, and it was dark when we arrived, so I didn't feel well oriented. When I pulled back the curtains, I tried to orient myself. It was a crisp but sunny morning and the city looked sparkling.
I pressed my face to the window to try and get a better view.
The room I was in was basic but nice. I was on a double bed that had gorgeous high thread count sheets and a very fluffy duvet. The walls were a dove gray and the ceiling was white. There was a desk set up in the corner. It was cozy and masculine. I wanted to stay cocooned in here but nature called. I pulled a cardigan on over my tank top and pajama pants and headed for the bathroom. I opened the door and was greeted by the smell of coffee.
Luke was obviously up.
A few minutes later, I found him in the kitchen. His hair was damp from the shower, and he was freshly shaved and looked delicious. He wore a navy T-shirt with a V neck and jeans. No shoes. Oh, yes, and he was holding a coffee mug toward me.
"Good morning."
"Hi."
"Sleep okay in there?"
"Like the dead. That bed is super comfy."
"It's okay, not as nice as mine though." I wasn't sure what to do with that information. "I swap when my folks come and stay because mine is bigger."
I'm sure it was. "Ah."
He informed me that he had our whole day planned out starting with my request for a bagel, lox, and cream cheese. "Drink your coffee, get dressed, and we'll go. Oh yeah, and don't wear those ridiculous shoes I've seen you wear to work. We'll be walking a bit."
"I can walk in those you know." He wasn't going to get away with criticizing my footwear.
"Okay, wear what you like but you have been warned."
I sat down on his sofa. It was not dissimilar to mine at home, although it was a lot less pink.
"How long have you lived here?" I realized overnight that I knew remarkably little about Luke's life beyond his job.
"Since I finished college. My folks helped me get a loan so I could get in the market."
"That was nice of them."
"Yeah, I think they felt bad I was homeless for so much of my childhood." He shrugged. "It worked out well for me anyway."
"Were you and Marigold planning to live here?"
"You are like a dog with a bone."
"It's a simple question."
"I think we would have lived here initially. I don't think she would have wanted to live here long term; she was a home town girl at heart. I think Dallas would have won out."
"Did you want to live in Dallas?"
"Not especially."
"But you would have?"
"Cherie, relationships are about give and take. I probably would have given on that. I travel a lot anyway. I'd have kept an apartment here . . . I guess."
"Were you engaged long?"
"Do we really have to do this?"
"At some point."
"Okay, well, can it not be now? I'm kind of a breakfast guy. Not good on an empty stomach."
"Right. Give me five minutes."
"Really, aren't you a woman, don't you take forever to get ready?"
"What a delightfully sexist thing to say."
"Well . . . sometimes there are stereotypes for a reason, you know, like men not reading instructions . . .”
"Yeah, what's that about?" I asked. “Time me. If I win, you buy breakfast!"
"Okay." He looked down at his watch. "Go."
Thank goodness I only had two outfits to choose from. Black ankle boots, skinny jeans, black top, scarf, leather jacket. Bam. Eye liner, lip gloss, mascara. Bam!
I was definitely out in less than five minutes.
"You'll do anything for a free bagel, huh?"
"Not anything, but, you know, a few things."
"Do tell?"
"I never will."
Chapter 15
I was sitting in the theater, t
hird row tickets to the most sought-after production on Broadway, and the truth was all I could focus on was the warmth of Luke's arm against mine and how today had been one of the best of my life.
We had gone to the local deli for bagels and coffee, and then we'd walked for hours and hours. We'd visited the Guggenheim and strolled down Fifth Avenue. Of course, I had indulged in some retail therapy, and even though most men I've dated have been bored shopping, Luke didn't seem to mind. I bought a great handbag in Bergdorf, and when Luke had gone outside to take a work call I'd even grabbed a sexy bra and panties on sale.
In fact, we'd been so busy that we didn't even have time to go home before the theater. We were a little casually dressed but this was New York and it took all sorts anyway.
Something funny happened on stage and Luke and the rest of the audience let out a laugh.
"Are you okay?" he asked when I didn't laugh along. Worry clouding his face.
"Never better," I said, grinning back at him.
That was true and sad. What was it about Luke that made him such easy company? Nothing seemed to rile him up or bother him. I didn't know if that was an act for my benefit or not but it didn't seem like it. When I had texted Lucy during the afternoon, I asked her if Luke ever seemed impatient.
Not even once, she'd replied. I guess I was more used to the hot-headed Italians I knew.
At intermission, we hit the line at the bar.
"You were right about the shoes, by the way," I said, taking my glass of champagne from him.
"Yeah, I know you girls look sexy as hell in those shoes, and I appreciate that normally, but there's nothing sexy about blisters and limping."
"Too true," I said, clinking my glass against his.
"Are you enjoying the show?" he asked.
"I am. Still don't quite know how you managed to get tickets on no notice."
"I have my ways."
"Clearly, I'd love to know who you had to sleep with." We had to stand close because the foyer was crowded.
He chuckled and raised his eyebrows. "If you knew my friend Alfonse, who is a hotel concierge, and who hooked me up, you would realize that there are some even I wouldn't do to make you happy."
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