You Can Have Manhattan

by P. Dangelico

  I was running before he’d finished the sentence.

  Sydney

  Hitting the security keypad, I unlocked the front door and walked into my brand-new townhouse, heading straight for the kitchen. On the way, I walked past the painting I’d seen all those months ago––the grey female form floating in the midst of all that color. I bought it to remind myself not to settle for grey anymore, to let the color in even if the last attempt hadn’t gone so well.

  Out of the refrigerator, I pulled out a bottle of Vitamin water and gulped it down as sweat dripped down my face and chest. Seven miles and it was hot as blazes today. The cell rang and Miller’s gorgeous face appeared.

  “When are you guys coming out?” I asked as soon as I hit the accept button,

  “First week in August…but that’s not why I’m calling.” I didn’t like the sound of his voice. He sounded guilty.

  “Why am I getting a funny feeling in my gut?”

  “No biggie. Just a little heads-up that your ex may be coming your way, and he may or may not be a little pissed.”

  “You mean the man who’s not yet my ex because he refuses to sign the damn divorce papers? What did you do?”

  “It’s all on him, Syd. He asked for it. He kept calling, wanting to know how to get a hold of you, and when I didn’t call him back he showed up at my apartment.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told him you were in Singapore…and I may have made and canceled a reso at the Ritz in your name. Then I told him you were in Dubai. And I may or may not have made another reso under your name––”

  “And he believed you?” I snorted.

  “I was very convincing.” Pride in his voice.

  “I’m sure you were…and?” I prodded, biting the inside of my cheek lest I encourage this behavior by laughing.

  “And he just spent the last week traveling the globe like Anthony Bourdain without the food in search of you and when he called to threaten my existence, my husband’s existence, and my future children’s existence I felt compelled to tell him the truth.”

  “Wise choice…how much time do I have.”

  “If he flew private? A few hours at best.”

  “Mama, I want cotton candy,” little Pete said to Laurel. With a face full of freckles, a tiny upturned nose, and spiky blond hair, little Pete was the carbon male copy of his mother.

  “Finish your burger first.”

  After Miller’s phone call, I jumped in the shower and got ready for my night out. Laurel and I had planned to attend the open-air Concert on the Commons. Ben Sparaco and the New Effects were playing, and nothing was going to stop me from enjoying the music. Not even the knowledge that I was going to come face-to-face with the man who had ripped out my heart and ate it with a side of fava beans and a nice Chianti.

  On the plane ride over here––during which I spent intermittently crying my eyes out––I came to a difficult decision. Hope and Love does not reality make. So even though my love stood strong, my heart couldn’t stand to be knocked around anymore. I had to let Scott go.

  “Is he here? Do you see him?” Laurel scanned the crowd in the commons. Jackson Hole, it turns out, is jam-packed with fun stuff to do in the summer.

  “I’m not looking, Laurel,” I told her, keeping my eyes on the stage and losing myself in the music. “I’m not interested in his comings and goings. This town is big enough for us to avoid each other.”

  Close to the stage, I spotted Ryan making eyes at a woman he was talking to. He caught me watching him and made a face, and in return I winked and gave him a thumbs-up. I’d seen a lot of him and the rest of the Lazy S crowd since I’d moved back. I’d made friends here, ones I wanted to keep. I’d been looking all my life for someplace to belong and I’d finally found it. I wasn’t about to give it up because my husband decided to make an appearance now and then.

  “Not likely, sweetie. I think he just found you,” Laurel said, breaking into my happy thoughts.

  My head whipped around, and my eyes crashed right into Scott’s. On the other side of the crowd, standing on a picnic table, he was staring at me with a harried expression. His hair disheveled, his white t-shirt wrinkled, jeans too. He looked like he hadn’t shaved or slept in days. He was a hot mess. And still so fucking beautiful it was physically painful to look at him.

  “Oh, oh, here he comes,” Laurel muttered. “Baby, you want that cotton candy now?” she said to Pete.

  “Yeah,” little Pete chirped.

  “Yes, ma’am,” his mother corrected.

  “Yes, Mama,” Pete teased.

  “No, Laurel!” I hissed. “You can’t leave me––”

  “Yes, I can. Look at that face.” We watched Scott jump down from the picnic table and elbow his way through the crowd. “That boy ain’t right in the head, and I’m not getting killed in friendly fire.”

  Not long after Laurel dumped me like an unwanted pet, Scott walked up. “I’m not doing this with you,” I told him and took off at a brisk walk, heading away from the concert.

  “Sydney, please,” he said, voice stressed, dogging my every step. “I’ve been trying to text and call you for weeks.”

  “I blocked your ass.”

  “I thought so,” he muttered to my back.

  I stopped at an ice cream cart, near a bunch of mothers and their kids so he couldn’t talk. A little girl, maybe six, kept looking at my cotton dress.

  “You like my dress?” I asked her.

  Smiling, she nodded. “You look like a rainbow.”

  The white poplin skirt was covered in rainbow-colored pinstripes.

  “Rainbows are my favorite,” I told her.

  “Me too,” a deep voice to my right interrupted. “Especially when you’re wearing them.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned to the kid manning the ice cream cart. “A double scoop of cookie dough ice cream, please.” He handed me the cone while Scott watched, plenty annoyed to have his stump speech interrupted. Naturally, I took my time paying. Once done, licking my ice cream, I walked off. “Leave me alone.”

  “I can’t…I love you, Sydney. I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry.”

  I wheeled around and nearly crashed my ice cream against his chest. “What is it, Scott? The job too much for you? What are you even doing here?”

  “I’m miserable! I’m so fucking miserable without you.” His voice fell. “And it’s not the job…it’s you. I felt the same way every time you left for New York––before Dad died.”

  A quick glance around told me we were drawing more and more attention.

  “I’m going to be straight with you even though you don’t deserve it because you sure didn’t give me the same courtesy…after which, we won’t speak again.”

  My gaze veered to the side. People everywhere. Families. Young couples. Children. I wanted that. I wanted joy in my life and I damn well deserved it. My eyes returned to his face.

  “You hurt me worse than any of the countless beatings I’ve taken.” Expression despondent, he jerked as if I’d hit him. “I loved you like I’ve never loved anything or anyone”––tears stung my eyes––“but you used that love against me. You used it to hurt me on purpose without even giving me the chance to explain…and I’m sorry you were in pain, I am. I loved him too. I mourned him too.” I wiped a tear away. “But I’m done crying over this and I’m done hurting over you. I don’t trust your love. It’s as deep as a suntan and I need someone to love me to the bone. I want a divorce, Scott. I want to move on with my life and you should too.”

  I left him standing there, in the middle of a magical concert, on a picturesque summer night. I left him and walked home and cried my eyes out. It was much harder than I made it look. I was a good actress after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sydney

  “I swear all men are deaf––” Laurel squinted and took another gulp of her margarita.

  “Too bad they don’t all look like Drake Wayland,” one of Laurel’s friends sa
id.

  “Too bad,” another friend chimed in.

  “––and if I’m wrong…well, then we’re all fucked. Because that would mean they’re just plain stupid.” Laurel had started to slur her words an hour ago and I was laughing like a hyena. We were all equally hammered. But hey, I was taking the summer off from work.

  Everybody had gone to Laurel and Pete’s for barbecue bonanza, something the locals had started when summer hit. It was the Robinson’s turn to host this week.

  “You ladies good on food? Syd? Want another burger?” Pete asked.

  “I’m stuffed. Thanks, Pete.” I started drinking shortly after arriving, when I thought Scott might make an appearance. These were his people too, after all. But halfway through the evening, I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized he was purposely staying away.

  A letter and a bouquet of black magic roses had been delivered the other day. The letter basically laid out what he believed, that Frank had set the entire thing up. That knowing Scott the way he did, he knew what his reaction would have been once he’d found out. That it was Frank’s last, best maneuver to get Scott to take his place as CEO.

  In all honesty, it didn’t sound so farfetched. As a matter of fact, it sounded exactly like something Frank would do. I didn’t want to believe that, all along, Frank’s master plan had been to get Scott to take the position of CEO, but it made sense. It was a classic Frank Blackstone move. Sacrifice the pawn to save the king. Regardless, it didn’t excuse Scott for how he’d treated me, a person he purported to love.

  “Hey, man. Good to see you,” some guy I didn’t recognize said. I glanced up and watched him clasp hands with Scott.

  “Time for a graceful exit,” I said to our picnic table, a bunch of Laurel’s friends who had welcomed me into their group with open arms.

  “Aww, sweetie. Don’t let him run you off. He can stay over there with the rest of his kind,” Laurel said pointing to the men around the drinks cooler.

  No sooner had Laurel spoken than Scott turned and looked straight at me with an expression so broken it actually hurt me to see him look that way, my stomach getting tangled up in knots. There wasn’t even a glimpse of the man he used to be.

  Breaking eye contact, I planted a kiss on Laurel’s cheek and got up. She’d been mother–henning me since I moved back. “See you in a few.”

  With Scott busy saying hello to the guys, I ordered an Uber and tried with as much stealth as possible to slip out to the front yard without being noticed.

  “Where are you going?”

  No such luck. He’d caught up to me in the shadows of the side of the house, where the only source of light was the moon and the front yard landscape lights.

  Stiffening, I turned. “Home. I think it’s best.”

  His gaze cut down before returning to me. “I’ve been thinking about what you said––”

  “Scott––”

  “Please…just hear me out,” he said, close to begging, voice rough.

  This was torture, loving someone and driving them away. Seeing them in pain and not doing anything to soothe it. I didn’t agree, but I didn’t walk away, either.

  “Maybe you’re right…”

  Not what I was expecting to hear.

  “I put my pride ahead of you. Of us. And I’m more sorry about that than anything else I’ve ever done…but you’re wrong about me not loving you to the bone. I do. I have from the start. It’s changed me and there’s no changing back…you’re in my bones forever. The way I’m in yours…”

  “I’ve gotta go,” I mumbled standing stock-still as he took a lock of my hair between his fingers.

  “For better or worse––isn’t that what the vows are? We’ve been through the worse. Gimme a chance to show you the better.”

  Bending his head, he kissed me on the lips, the touch whisper light. I closed my eyes and pretended we were strangers and there wasn’t a world of history standing in our way. And in spite of all the reasons it was plain wrong to kiss him back, I did it anyway. The kiss turned white-hot in a matter of seconds, had us clinging to each other like it was excruciating to be apart.

  “What can I do?” he whispered against my mouth, molding our hips together, his erection pressed against me. “How can I prove it to you? I’ll do anything, Sydney, just say the word.”

  I forced myself to step out of his arms, away from the warm comfort of his big body. “You can listen…You can give me a divorce.”

  “Hi, I’m Cody. Anybody ever tell you that you look like Blake Lively?” the boy standing to my left slurred. I cast a glance in his direction, and he returned a drunken cocky grin.

  Straight ahead, behind the bar, Tony smirked and hid a chuckle by turning his back to us and pretending to sort some bottles, the traitor.

  All I wanted was to have one little drink in peace. I wasn’t in any mood to be in public––Scott’s sudden reappearance in Jackson Hole being the main cause. Three weeks and he was still here. How Blackstone was faring without him was a serious cause for concern, but I tamped down the urge to dig around. Blackstone Holdings was no longer mine to worry about. It never really had been.

  Laurel had called and insisted I come out to meet her and the girls (her group of friends) for a quick drink and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Which was why I was here, at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar getting hit on by a bunch of toddlers instead of drowning my sorrows (baking muffins) back at my townhouse.

  I was failing at not loving him. I tried. I really did. I tried to stay mad, to resent him. I just didn’t have it in me. Scott was still the man who had kissed every single scar. Who had understood what I needed before even I had. Despite what he’d done to my career and my heart, I was still in love with him. That thread between us hadn’t broken. And as much as I wanted to move on, I wasn’t ready to see him with someone else. It would’ve probably killed me.

  I tore my eyes away from the screen of my iPhone where five new voicemails remained unlistened––all from one man––and glanced over at the toddler in question. He and his cohorts were dressed in full rodeo regalia. “Cody” had pale blond hair and eyebrows, the florid complexion of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun and drank too much. More of the same from the other two who hung over his shoulder like he was the one chosen as tribute.

  “Not anybody sober…or with twenty-twenty vision.”

  I received three blank stares in return. Then, “Oh, I get it. No, but really––” he started again with boldness only a barely legal and, frankly, stupid man could possess. One look at my demeanor and anyone could tell I was in no mood for him to get his flirt on. In fact, I was seconds from texting Laurel and telling her I had to bail for obvious reasons.

  “Cody, is it?” I turned to face him. “I’m flattered. But I’m here to meet my girlfriend for a drink. I’m not here for a hookup.”

  “You’re gay?” he said with the most tragic expression.

  Blink. Blink. Blink. “Yes, Cody. I’m gay.”

  “You haven’t called me back.” The voice coming from over my right shoulder was much deeper and much huskier than Cody’s.

  My entire body tensed. This was reason number two I hadn’t wanted to go out. I spared him the briefest of glances.

  “That’s generally what happens when someone doesn’t want to speak to you. Laurel will be here any minute.”

  “Laurel’s not coming.”

  Great. A setup. I was going to kill her.

  “I thought you said you were gay?” Cody chimed in.

  “Bi. Move along now, Cody and Cody’s friends. Trust me, you want no part of this.”

  “But––”

  Scott’s scowl rounded on Cody. “Are you as stupid as you appear or just hard of hearing? Fuck off, kid.”

  Cody puffed himself up and squared his shoulders. He was tall and skinny. As tall as Scott minus approximately thirty pounds of muscle. “Who the fuck you calling kid, dude?”

  “Okay guys, c’mon,” Tony finally spoke up.
/>   “Enough,” I added, slid off the barstool, and got between the two. “Scott, let’s go.” I grabbed his wrist and he came willingly as I dragged him away toward the exit. It didn’t stop him from keeping his narrowed threatening gaze on the boys.

  Outside the warm air blew my hair back, the cloudless night sky glistening with stars. We walked in silence toward my townhouse. When we finally reached my address, I stopped and faced him. Despite that he’d lost a few pounds and dark shadows hung under his eyes, he was so handsome it made me ache.

  “Whatever you came to say. We can say it out here.”

  He nodded in understanding, but no less dejected.

  “I’ve done a lot I’m not proud of, but you...this...this marriage, being your husband…It’s the only wrong thing I’ve ever done right. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I was the lucky one.”

  Pulling out a thick white envelope, he handed it to me, and as I stared at it sitting in my hand, he said, “Divorce papers. I made a few changes, but it’s all there…what you wanted.”

  I glanced up and found his face turned away, his profile hard, and the sharp line of his jaw clenched tightly.

  “I’m leaving.” His voice was as rough as sandpaper, the words practically forced out. “I know you’re not happy I’m here so I’m going back to New York…giving you some space––”

  My chest ached like my heart was breaking all over again, tears threatening to make a scene.

  “––I love you and I’m in love with you. I don’t even know if I can fix all the shit I’ve done, if you can ever forgive me––that’s for you to decide. But…but I’ll wait for you. Doesn’t matter how long––I’ll wait. Doesn’t matter where––I’ll find you. Just say the word and I’ll be there…That’s all I came to say––that and goodbye.”

  His eyes finally met mine, packed with so much love and longing they were near bursting with it. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine, a brief tender brush of the lips I’d come to know so well before he pulled away and cast those eyes in the direction of his truck.