She lowers her voice. "He said yes."
I nod. "He said yes, then he upped it."
Her gaze drops to the table. She plays with her napkin, folding the corners and rolling it up.
"What was your price?"
I hesitate. I can see the indecision in her eyes. She wants to know, but doesn't want to know. Softly, I tell her the truth. "I said eight million."
Her eyes snap up. "That's a lot of money, but chump change to him." She huffs. "I guess I can’t blame you for taking the money. Who says no to that?"
"I thought for sure he'd say no. He immediately said deal, then said he'd give me ten. I thought I could do it for a year and move on and we our own way. I didn't think it'd be so hard, not if I looked at him like a client from the club and nothing more. I should've known it wasn't like that." I look her directly in the eye. "I almost told you, you know. I tried to distance myself from the both of you. I felt so bad for lying all the time about where I was, what I was doing. I think there was a point when James and I both knew we were in too deep but just couldn't get out. It was strange, like we knew, but we didn't want to face the facts because we knew where it would take us. If it helps at all, I know he was worried about hurting you too."
"Do you love him?"
I immediately avert my gaze.
"Look at me and tell me, Aubrey."
I lift my tear-filled eyes and her face falls. I nod.
Natalie's quiet for a long time. I don't regret telling her the truth and in some strange way I think she appreciates it, even though it hurts both of us.
We both finish off our cappuccinos. "I'm so sorry. More than you can ever know."
"Let me say something… I'm not okay with this, and I don't know if I'll ever be, even though I have the facts. I spoke to my parents separately."
My eyes widen, heart pounding a little too hard in anticipation.
"I didn't tell my mom about you. I figured I would spare her any more heartache, but if you hadn't been set up with my dad, I do believe my parents could've worked things out. I definitely don’t think he would've filed for divorce if you hadn’t agreed to the private deal. So for that I place blame on you because you could've said no and walked away. My mom told me they had an agreement and that it hadn't been as great as they made it look for a long time. She knew about his affairs and he kept them discreet. While I never knew a thing—I know the truth now—it still doesn't make what happened okay." She licks her lips. "My dad's story is pretty much identical to yours. I honestly hate him for what he did." She pauses and there's tears in her eyes, which make mine well up too. "I hate you a little too. I mean, you were my best friend. Why did he have to go after you? Did he hate me that much?"
I shake my head to correct her. I try to speak but she stops me again.
"I know he doesn't, it just fucking hurts, okay? I feel like I didn't know anything about them."
I drop my head, ashamed. Natalie moves to stand, and I look up when I hear the chair slide back. My brows furrow. She smooths out her black dress and levels a stare at me.
"The divorce is final. All I can say is that I hope you and my dad are happy now. I don't know if I can ever accept this, but I do miss you, and I hope one day we can try to be friends again. I'm not sure it'll ever be the same, though." She swallows, then says, "I'm terribly sorry for your loss. Grammy was a good woman and I can't imagine she'd be happy about what you did. Even though I do kind of hate you right now, I'm still here for you if you need me."
I nod and look down again. Her words are laced with so much emotion I don't even recognize her. She meant every word, and I can't even be mad about it.
Sixty-One
"I'm glad you finally responded to a message," James says, handing me a tumbler. He takes a seat across from me.
"You can't seem to take a hint, can you?" I say, only sort of joking.
I take a deep sip, needing all the liquid courage I can get. It's been two weeks since I spoke to Natalie. I feel like it's time to put everything to rest, even though my heart is going to shatter into a million pieces again for it.
He shrugs an unforgiving shoulder and looks me directly in the eye. "What can I say? I'm a man who knows what he wants."
I glance around, taking in his apartment on the Upper East Side. I got the underlining hint. It's bright and airy, with neutral blues and gentle grays that create a tranquil feel.
"Is this place new?"
"No. I've had it for years actually. It's where I live, alone." He pauses. "This is where I asked you to meet me before we went to Colorado."
I nod and look back at him, my heart racing even faster now. He's not wearing his wedding band, and his matured eyes appear at ease. He's too damn good-looking. He makes me ache for him just sitting there and it kills me because I can't have him. Dark, distressed jeans and a polo shirt that teases me with his tattoos. He's always been the silent sexy type and he wears it well. I rarely got to see him in short-sleeved shirts before, and now I just want to cover him up, so no one gets to see him like this. I want him for myself.
"You look good," he says.
I give him a droll stare. "I look like shit, James. I'm on weird terms with Natalie, and my grammy died. I feel like death inside and I know I look like it. So cut the act. I don't look good."
Guilt crosses his face. "Natalie told me what happened."
I squeeze my eyes shut and wave it away. I haven't cried in a few days and I'm really trying not to right now. Tipping back the rest of my drink, I place the glass on the table and then reach inside my purse to pull out his check. I slide it across the table. His brows angle toward each other when he sees it.
"Take it back," I say.
"No. It's yours."
"I don't want it, especially not after what you said to me. We didn't finish out our deal anyway, so I didn't earn it."
His eyes lower to slits. "Don't care. It's yours. If you don't want it, then rip it up, but I'm not taking it. Is that why you finally came here? To give it back?"
He's angry, but I'd rather his anger than his love. "One of the reasons."
"What's the other?" he demands, finishing off his drink.
"Do you really want to play this game? Why do you think, James? You're not a stupid man."
Steel eyes stare back at me. "Say it. I want to hear it come from you. Let me hear the words."
My chest tightens just thinking about it, but I know what I need to say. Drawing in a deep breath, I pray I can get this out.
"We're through. There's no more deal, no more us, no more you calling me all hours of the day, no more text messages. It's over. It has to be this way and we both know it. After today, please don't contact me again."
"No."
"I really want Natalie back in my life and if this is how it has to be, then so be it. I'm cleaning up the stupid mistakes I’ve made.
His jaw flexes. "And I'm a mistake."
Oh, hell on earth, I can feel the tears climbing. My stomach is twisting with torment. I thought I could handle this, could stay strong.
My tongue glides over my bottom lip. "I want to call you a mistake, but I won't. You're not a mistake, but what we did was a mistake. I'm no longer an escort, and I don't have a boyfriend anymore. I'm just trying to get right with God and Natalie, and this is the first stop."
He huffs, then smirks. "Boyfriend couldn’t handle your job?"
"Thanks to Natalie, no, but that's beside the point. All I've done is lie and hurt people I care about and I'm not doing it anymore. That's never been who I am."
He sees I'm not playing and sits up straighter. "Is it because of what I said? Because you know I didn't mean it, Aubrey. People say things out of anger. I did, and I'm sorry. I regretted it the moment I said it and I can promise you it will never happen again. Please tell me you don't think I meant it."
I swallow thickly. I truly don't think he meant it, but it still doesn't change the course of action.
"It doesn't matter. It's the truth anyway. What's don
He brings his hand up to stroke his beard. I hold my breath. James looks away, and I take note of his salt and pepper hair and how it actually suits him so beautifully.
Shit. Don't go there.
I clench my eyes shut and tip my head down. As odd as it sounds, I love that he's a silver fox. He rocks that look.
"Is this what you want? Tell me. Do you want this?"
I meet his stare. No, it's not what I want. I feel like I'm dying a little inside knowing I won’t ever see him again.
"It doesn't matter what I want." My voice breaks. "It's what it is. Let it go."
His eyes flare. James slams his glass to the table and I jump. "Yes, it does. It matters."
Shaking my head, I push my chair back and stand. Jaw trembling, I don't know how I'm going to walk out of here.
"I've said all I needed to say." I reach for my purse.
James finishes his cognac and stands. Taking his tumbler, he rears back and whips it across the room, shattering it against a wall. My heart stops. Something inside me cracks as the crystal pieces fall to the floor. I break down crying. James rushes to me and I can't help my arms going around his neck. He scoops me up and hugs me tight. I haven't been held since my life turned into the shitstorm that it is, and it feels good, so fucking good, especially coming from James. I cry in his arms, hating that this is goodbye, because it is. It's goodbye, whether we want it or not.
"Sweetheart, don't do this." His voice breaks me inside. He doesn't want it to end either and it hurts so fucking much. "Don't do this. Things are different now. So different. It can work. We can work. We'll figure it out. I'm begging you not to do this."
My chest is on fire with emotion, with longing, with wishing things could be different. Maybe in another lifetime it would be, but not ours. We just found each other at the wrong time.
Sniffling, I pull back to tell him I have to go, but he surprises me by pressing his lips to mine.
"Please, let me kiss you," he begs, like he needs me so bad.
I shake my head.
"Open your mouth."
I shake my head again as more tears fall. I'm afraid to kiss him. Afraid of what it could lead to. Afraid of what it would make me feel that I can't have. I want James Riviera, but I can't have him.
"Aubrey, please…"
He's breaking just as much as I am. I don't know how I'll recover from this, because this goodbye is so very unwanted. Our story isn't done, but the book is being forced closed.
"James," I breathe out. "I have to go. Let me go. Don't make this harder than it already is."
Finally, he releases me, but he doesn't release the hold on my heart. I'm crumbling inside, my chest shattering into a million pieces and I don't know how I'm going to deal with it. How I'll live without ever seeing him again. I know what heartbreak feels like since Grammy passed away, but this is a different kind of heartbreak that I've never experienced. My chest rises and falls fast. James cups my face. Using the pads of his thumbs, he wipes away my tears and ultimately nods.
I make my way to his front door. My breathing deepens with each step I take. I place my hand on the knob and pause, knowing that when I walk out I'll never see him again.
I look over my shoulder but he's already walking toward me. Holding my breath, I look up. Our eyes meet and I see the same look in his eyes that I feel in my heart. James places a small kiss to my forehead, then opens the door for me.
I take a step and hesitate.
"If you don't leave now, I'm going to make you mine forever. It's what you want. It's what I fuckin' want, and we both know it. Last chance, sweetheart."
Tears well in my eyes as chills trail down my arms. I want him to yank me inside and make me his, but he's giving me the choice, and I have to make the right decision this time, even if it rips me apart.
Silently saying goodbye to the one thing my heart truly wants, I nod and step outside, then hurry down the stairs to the street. I look back over my shoulder one last time, but James is already slamming the door shut.
And just like that, we're strangers again.
I take my time walking to the train station, allowing my eyes to freshen up and the tears to dry. I'm going to see Natalie at our apartment that I still haven't cleaned out. I don't want her to see me like this. That would allow her to ask questions, and while I didn't do anything wrong this time, I still don't want to give her a reason to think I did.
As I'm walking up the familiar steps, I take out my compact mirror to check how I look. I quickly apply some powder to hide the redness then stuff it away. I stand at our door and take a deep breath before knocking three times. I technically still live here, but I don’t want to walk in either.
She opens immediately, and I hold my breath when I see her. Tears blur my vision. It feels like all I’ve done is cry lately, and now isn't any different. Something flashes in her eyes and I almost regret coming over until she opens her mouth.
"You're fourteen fucking days late, bitch. God, you really know how to give someone a complex," she says, then throws her arms around me to give me a giant hug. I gasp, and we both start crying happy tears as I step inside. "I almost had to hunt your dumb ass down," she adds. She looks like she's on cloud nine and it makes me feel so good.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know if, or when, you'd want to see me, but I couldn't hold off any longer. I miss you, and I'm sorry, and I want our friendship back," I say without taking a breath. "And I swear on my life I'll never talk to James or see him again. I just really need you in my life, Nat. I need my bestie."
Her navy eyes soften and a few tears slip out. "I was never going anywhere. I just needed some time. You just gave me too much time." We both giggle. "We're more than just friends, Aub. We're like soul sisters, wet sisters, our own little gang, each other's tribe, my squad. Whatever you want to call it. How can we be epically fucking amazing when one half is missing? Answer. We can't. You're stuck with me for life, Ram Jam. I just needed a little time."
I always knew Natalie was a real, honest to God friend, but it was then that I realized what kind of person she is deep down inside. She's a better person than I am. I don't deserve her, but I'm lucky to have her in my life. A real friend accepts all the imperfections and lifts you up when no one notices that you fell. One who's always there with a shoulder to lean on, who can forgive even the biggest mistakes that hurt more than just one person.
I may have lost my grammy, but I’ve gained an angel for a best friend.
Epilogue
"Cheers to the hardest working broad in the city I know," Natalie says.
I smile from ear to ear. Our champagne glasses clink together, and we sip our mimosas. We're sitting at a little café overlooking the Hudson River having brunch.
"I can't believe it's finally open. I'm so excited for you."
I grin even bigger, feeling a bit bashful. "Right? I can't either."
This morning I cut the ribbon on Sanctuary, my nonprofit organization, with my best friend by my side.
"How do you feel about it?" she asks.
"Honestly? It's surreal. I really thought with each roadblock it wouldn’t happen. I started to lose hope at one point."
Natalie's lips turn down, and she nods. She knows. She was right there the whole time watching how upset I was over the amount of broken bridges I had to cross. A year and a half it took from start to finish, but now it's up and running, and in two days the doors will open to homeless women and children all over New York City.
"I couldn't do it without your help," I say. "Thanks, Nat."
"I wouldn't have it any other way. I know how much it means to you, and I know Grammy would be proud."
"I hope so."
I smile and glance at the murky river. After the day I showed up at the apartment, we had another long talk through tears and cheap wine that made us sick the next day. There were too many memories to throw away and a bond that we knew couldn't be found with anyone else.
It was a little rocky at first. We both were testing the waters, being careful with each other, but eventually we fell back into our natural, sarcastic ways. We argued here and there, but within six months it was put behind us and we've been good ever since.
I never went back to Sanctuary Cove, but Natalie is still there. She tells me all the time she's going to give it up, but that lasts only until she gets another insane payment. Then she tells me next time. I laugh and tell her she's going to have a roast beef looking vagina by the time she really does leave.
Every few months she asks me if I'll ever go back. My answer is always no, quick loads of money be damned. Like Natalie told me in the beginning of our senior year of college—more money, more problems. She wasn't kidding. The grass really isn't greener on the other side.
The only positive that came from working in the sex trade was that I used a good chunk of the cash to open the foundation, which wasn't easy to prove at first. It was that five-million-dollar check I got from James that secured the deal in the end since he’d proved it was a gift. I didn't speak to him about it, though. Natalie did that for me. She claims he was happy to help.
I never ask about him. Ever. And Natalie never mentions him. It's one of those things that's always there but is never spoken about. I think about James often and I still miss him something fierce, but my friendship with Natalie is more important to me. I won't go down that road again. I'm not sure I could handle the heartbreak again.
"Want to order Chinese tonight and get drunk at my place?"
I tip my glass toward her. "Sounds like a rad plan. Is my bed made up with clean sheets?"
She laughs. "I just ironed them for you."
I never moved back into the apartment, but Natalie insists on keeping my room the way I left it. I joke that she's like a mom waiting for her child to come home from college. She's been amazing to me and beyond forgiving, so every couple of weeks I oblige and make her happy by sleeping over. That's only after I make sure Grammy's cats are taken care of.
Yeah, I still live there. The landlord had no intention of selling, but I offered him an over market price and he accepted. On days when I'm lonely and down, I feel like she's there with me and I need that.
-->
