Lucky Neighbor: A Second Chance Secret Baby Romance

by Gage Grayson

“Fuck fucking no.”

  “That’s what I thought!” Ryan shouts before taking a gulp from his new drink.

  “What number is that for you, Ryan?”

  “I’m not counting.”

  “You can still talk, which is good.”

  “Is it?”

  Ryan takes a smaller sip, maybe in an effort to slow down.

  “I’ll try tonight, Ethan. But another time might be better.”

  “Another time for what?”

  Ryan sets down his drink and looks at it, resisting the temptation for more.

  “You know, conversation.”

  “Fucking shit, dude. Don’t worry about that.”

  Ryan nudges the cup away from him.

  “What’s up, Ethan?”

  “Christ, how well do you fucking know me? You’re the scary one.”

  Ryan finishes his little dance with the drink, giving in by taking another tiny sip.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right, but quit stalling already. What’s eating away at the Great Ethan Barrett?”

  I hear myself sighing heavily as I take a gulp of whiskey and ice. There’s a Lorde song playing on Colin’s iPod through the speakers.

  A few of the lyrics hang in the air as Ryan waits for my response.

  Something about rumors—and viciousness.

  “I might be moving to Switzerland.”

  “Oh, that’s all?” Ryan takes a sip of his drink, and a split second later he nearly does a spit-take, but he stops himself from actually spitting. “Fuck. Did you say Switzerland?”

  “Yeah. What did you think I said?”

  “For some reason, at first I thought you said Staten Island…”

  My laughter interrupts Ryan.

  “Why would I move there? I’m like two seconds from work.”

  “That would be weird, and you’ve got that bomb-ass apartment.”

  “Right. But then you realized what I said a second later?”

  “It was a short circuit or something, right in the ole brain. But Switzerland…”

  “They’re offering me a contract, for two years.”

  “In fucking Switzerland? Is it in Geneva or something?”

  “No. Basel.”

  Ryan takes a more generous sip of his drink, and I do the same with mine.

  “Damn, dude,” Ryan comments, “you’ll be in Switzerland, but hours away from any good skiing. Why would you take a contract there?”

  I don’t answer Ryan’s question. I don’t even give him a look. All I do is watch his face for the two seconds it takes him to realize the obvious.

  “Is it that much?” Ryan asks quietly.

  “Let’s just say it’s fuck you money. As in, after two years, I’ll be able to say fuck you to the entire industry.

  Ryan finishes everything left in his cup, which is quite a bit, in one gulp.

  “Will you want to say that to the industry? Do you want to now?”

  I follow Ryan’s example and chug the rest of my caustic drink.

  “I’m really starting to look forward to retirement, I’ll say that much.”

  “Another round?” Colin is back at just the right moment.

  “Yes, but this time could I get a pineapple juice and…rum.”

  “I can do that,” Colin reassures me.

  “Just another Jack and Coke for me,” Ryan says. “And put it on his tab.”

  Colin disappears again, and I notice Ryan scoping out the room behind me. Drinking and talking is not what Ryan wanted to do tonight. Not drinking and talking to me, at any rate.

  He’s doing his best, though. He knows I’m going through some shit.

  As Ryan scans the room, I can tell by the way his face drops a little that the other person I invited tonight is making her way over.

  “Hey, Carina,” Ryan almost grunts.

  “That’s some greeting, Ryan,” my sister says while taking the empty stool next to me. “And you, Ethan…”

  “And me, what?”

  “We have important things to discuss, and you have me meet you here? At a goddamn dive.”

  “It’s not such a dive,” Ryan tells Carina. I’m sitting between them, and it’s like he’s trying to talk through me.

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Carina responds. “Where are the restrooms?”

  “That door right there.” I point to the bathrooms a few feet behind me.

  “Thanks.” Carina gets up from her barstool. “It’s about our mother, just so you know.”

  “Is she okay? Has anything changed?”

  “Nothing’s changed. Still not okay.”

  “What’s that all about? Your mom’s still marrying that guy?” asks Ryan once Carina’s off to the restroom.

  “Yes, still happening, it seems. My sister’s also getting kicked out her apartment soon, so she’ll need my help in some way. She’s just embarrassed to ask.”

  “Damn, did she not pay rent or something?”

  “Nope, just more city real estate fuckery. Her rent’s going up to some crazy high level, and she’s having no part of that.”

  “What else?”

  “With Carina? I don’t know.

  “No, what else is going on with you?”

  Colin returns with three drinks and plops them down silently. He always accounts for newly arrived guests.

  “I told you about Switzerland. That’s it. That’s big enough, I think.”

  I take the first sweet, citrusy sip of my drink.

  “What else?”

  “Just getting over a crush.”

  “A crush? What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know what else to say.” I take a gulp from drink.

  I have a lot of other things to say, but that might have to wait for another time.

  Ethan

  “Happy Friday!”

  I don’t know who says it. It sounds like everybody’s saying it at once in the hallway as I arrive.

  By now, with less people showing up every day, most people know that their days here are numbered.

  Today, I’m appreciating the atmosphere of warmth and conviviality in the air. It’s bittersweet, and I almost don’t even feel like going to my office and closing the door like I always do.

  The only problem is, after years of being the lone wolf hedge fund manager at the end of the hall, if I do anything but go straight to my office, it’ll probably come across as insincere bullshit.

  Walking down to my office, I keep my head down, promising to myself that next time I’ll try not to shut myself off from everything so much.

  Passing the partially open boardroom door, I know that some weird shit is about to happen. I’m right—that executive laughter resounds through the corridor. I hear Barrister, Rosen—and, yes, that’s Fern.

  The latest fit of laughter is followed by Phil’s voice telling a story about...someone. I slow down my pace.

  “And then he thought he was leaning against a wall, but there was nothing there—he almost fell over!”

  I don’t know who they’re talking about, but there’s more fucking laughing. I start legitimately dragging my feet down the corridor when I hear Kallie chime in.

  “From what I can tell,” she says, “all his friends are from like, San Francisco, just like he is, so they’re all computer programmers, or whatever, like he is, so he doesn’t know how to exist with normal people.”

  The laughter rings out again, and I regret eavesdropping. Kallie’s probably talking about one of the IT guys.

  “And you know that weird thing he does with his eyes when he talks?” Kallie continues.

  “Oh, Jesus, yes,” says Phil. “He’s one fuckin’ guy I’m glad to be rid of.”

  More laughter follows. It’s fucking sickening—they’re talking about someone who already lost his job.

  I shouldn’t have stopped, and I shouldn’t have listened, but in an office this size, it can be hard to ignore this shit when it happens. It’ll probably get even worse after the move.

  At thi
s point, I’m happy to walk into my office and close the fucking door.

  Time to get to work—whatever that means these days. Time to...

  Take out my personal phone and dial Madeline, with no idea why I’m doing it. Maybe it’s because I’m not sure what’s really going on with the company and the move anymore, and I want to touch base and get her perspective.

  Maybe I’d just like to hear the sound of her voice. Even if it’s only for a few words.

  The kind of ugliness I overheard can ruin a day for me. That might sound extreme, but I really fucking hate it—and Maddie’s phone is already ringing.

  “Hello?”

  Standing in the middle of my office, I realize how little I expected her to pick up. I’m completely unprepared.

  “Ethan?”

  “Madeline! How are you?”

  “I-I’m good, Ethan. I know I haven’t been in touch recently...”

  “Well, me neither.”

  “Is everything okay, Ethan?” Maddie asks, as if she knows something’s wrong and she’s trying to get it out of me.

  I don’t think too much about that, though. For a moment, all I feel is giddy shock that this conversation is happening after I tried so hard to convince myself that it’s over.

  “What are you doing tonight, Madeline?” I ask, knowing there’s a slim-to-none chance she doesn’t have plans for her Friday night by now.

  “I thought I had a lot of work to do...but I don’t know. I think I might not be doing anything.” Her answer is puzzling, but now is not the time to dwell on that.

  “Would you want to get a drink? I could use a drink.”

  It’s a weird thing for me to say. It’s even not a quarter past nine in the morning, and if we do get together, it won’t be for another few hours—but I’m letting instinct take over for this call.

  “Okay. Sure. I could use one, too. You want to meet at the Iron Horse or something?” Before I can respond, Maddie offers another suggestion. “Or that place we went a while ago? In Alphabet City?”

  “Lush Republic.”

  “Yeah,” Maddie says. “I have trouble remembering that name for some reason. They have food there, right?”

  “They do, but why don’t we start the drinks there, and...” Okay, time to reel myself in just a little. “And some food, if you’re hungry. Whatever you want.”

  “I’m in. I’ll see you there at 7:00 p.m.”

  “I’ll be there with bells on.”

  “And I mean 7:00 p.m. sharp, bellboy. See ya.” Madeline hangs up.

  For once this week, I’m feeling motivated to get some fucking work done.

  With my laptop, tablet, and business smartphone going full blast, I work the shit out of this Friday, reading news and analyzing data. It’s pointless, since the fund is probably closing soon, but it passes some of the time before my date with Maddie.

  At 5:00 p.m., I leave with the crowd.

  In my suit and overcoat, I embark on the half hour walk to Lush Republic. It’s still crazy fucking early when I get there. I stake out a table and order one of the dark stouts they have on tap.

  I nurse my pint of beer until Maddie shows up at seven, on the dot. Like me, it looks like she’s still dressed in her work clothes.

  Maddie and I make eye contact the moment she walks in the door. My heart starts pumping a little harder—and harder still as I watch Maddie pleasantly show her ID to the bouncer.

  She’s wearing a light jacket—maybe a little too light for the weather—over an incredibly well-fitting charcoal gray skirt suit. She slips off the jacket before walking to the table, draping it over her arm.

  She looks so fucking good in that suit.

  “Is this where Rich Uncle Pennybags likes to spend all his time?” Maddie down across from me in the worn yet comfortable booth.

  “I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve seen him around here. I like spending time here, though—especially with you.”

  Fuck, I need to turn it down by about a hundred fucking notches. That was so...

  Maddie smiles, and my brain goes blissfully blank.

  I smile back, because I have no other choice. I am so fucking glad I decided to call.

  There’s a Monkees song playing through the bars iPod-connected speakers—Charles must be presiding over the playlist tonight.

  “Isn’t this a Smash Mouth song?” Maddie asks.

  “No, you’re thinking of I’m A Believer. This is Daydream Believer.”

  “So, they stole the other song from Smash Mouth.”

  “They sure did, the thieving bastards.”

  “It’s that damn Shrek soundtrack,” Maddie snarls. “That’s where it all started.”

  “Shrek is the soundtrack, and the most influential album of the sixties,” I add.

  “Mm,” Maddie replies, grabbing my half-full pint glass of stout. “Also: Mmm,” Maddie comments after taking a sip and wiping the foam from her upper lip.

  “I can get you a fresh pint. That one’s lukewarm by now.”

  “Room temperature,” Maddie replies. “For a stout like this, it’s perfect. Ooh, can I keep it? Please? I’ll take real good care of it.”

  “Go for it. They’ve got this shit on tap—and I think they might still have my tab open from the other night.”

  “Mm,” Maddie comments once more before enjoying another sip of her warm stout.

  “Glad you’re enjoying it, Maddie. I still prefer it cold. I mean, I don’t know how they do it in England...”

  With the word England, I feel myself freeze up.

  Any mention of a certain European nation is guaranteed to go over very fucking poorly with Maddie right now, so I need to be on my toes. Even mentioning a country in the same fucking continent might be too close for comfort.

  “It’s how we do it in the Old Country,” Maddie responds with a wonderful smile. She gives me a little wink and tips back the glass.

  The relief washing over me is so powerful that I almost collapse onto the fucking table. The sight of Maddie enjoying herself and, well, just being Maddie pulls me in the other direction, making me feel like I’m about to rocket through the ceiling.

  Luckily for me, it ends up balancing out, and I remain still, calm, and completely ecstatic in my seat, watching Maddie savor her warm stout.

  After an especially enthusiastic gulp, Maddie darts her tongue out forcefully and licks the foam from her lips. Maddie keeps her tongue out in the open air well after the last traces of foam are gone. Widening her eyes, Maddie tilts her head upwards and thrusts her tongue out even further.

  “Thake a thicthure.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me twice—I’m already digging through my overcoat for my personal phone to capture this moment for the ages.

  “Thake it!” Maddie yells impatiently as I grapple with my phone, trying to frame the photo as fucking perfectly as it deserves.

  “Thake it!” Maddie yells again. As if she demanded it, Hey Ya by OutKast starts playing through the bar’s speakers.

  I get in two good snaps before Maddie’s dancing in her seat and the moment’s lost forever.

  “Do you want me to text these to you, or...”

  Maddie shrugs while taking a sip of stout. She’s also still moving madly to the music, shaking the entire booth like it’s some sort of instant photograph.

  Stacia, my Lush Republic waitress as always, furtively leaves a fresh pint of stout in front of me while Maddie stays lost in the song.

  Maddie sings along to one line of the song, and I drop my glass before I can take the first sip. I’m real fucking lucky it was only an inch off the table and the beer and glass both survived intact.

  “Whoa there, Eth, you missed the best line of the song!”

  “Madeline...I’ve never heard...are you...”

  Now Maddie’s laughing at me, because I’m speechless, and I’m sure I have a dumb, slack-jawed expression.

  “Why aren’t you a professional singer!” I fucking scream that shit, because I’m s
uddenly fucking outraged.

  Maddie giggles to herself while taking a confident sip of stout.

  “I’m not that good, Ethan. When the song’s playing loudly, and I’m singing quietly, it gives a false impression.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  Maddie laughs beautifully as I shake my head.

  “Hear me sing in the shower sometime—then you’ll believe it.”

  The Lush Republic crowd is growing to its usual Friday night size, and the music has stopped altogether for some reason. Maddie’s looking around, a bit restlessly.

  And I don’t want this night to end.

  “Where do you want to go for dinner?” I ask.

  “Mother of Pearl.” Maddie didn’t delay for a fucking second—she’s been thinking about this. It’s a good choice, too, since it’s practically next door. It takes about twenty seconds for us to walk there, and by some miracle, they have a table open for us.

  It’s also a fucking tiki bar.

  “Good choice, Maddie.”

  “You know it.” Maddie’s busy studying the menu, and I’m just marveling at everything.

  Like the décor.

  Like the fact we’re seated, with menus, at Mother of Pearl, not ten minutes after Hey Ya ended.

  Like the fact Maddie’s here, in New York, sitting across the table from me.

  This is not some memory.

  “This is real,” I say quietly.

  “You know it,” Maddie says again.

  That sends my heart fluttering. For real. Yes, that shit actually happens, as I’m learning right now.

  “Which one of these daiquiris should I get? The Frozen Classic? And, ooh, look at these fancy shots.”

  “Any of them, all of them, anything and everything you want.”

  A flicker of mischief dances across Maddie’s eyes as she closes her menu. “Mr. Barrett—are you suggesting we order every drink on this menu?”

  “I’ll lay it out like this...have you ever dreamt of coming here?”

  “Uh, don’t remember, sorry.”

  “It could’ve been a daydream. Like maybe earlier today.”

  “I don’t know how you could think I was daydreaming about this...cocktail menu.”

  “Maddie, this can be your dream. If your dream is ordering all the frozen daiquiris, or just the entire fucking menu, then I want to make that happen.”