Heels of Steel

by Barbara Kavovit

  “You messing around on her?”

  “No, Ma, no.”

  “You rough with her? You throwing her around?”

  “Jesus, no! Come on.”

  “Oh.” Something softened in his mother’s voice then. “Well, some people, you can’t do anything to make them happy. It might not be your fault.”

  “I don’t think—I don’t think that’s the problem. I think maybe—she’s the real thing, Ma. Like she grew up rich and educated, she’s traveled all over the world. Maybe I’m just—not enough?”

  There was a long pause. “She sounds like a frigging snob.” Her voice shook with contempt. “I don’t know why you don’t come home and find a nice girl from the neighborhood. Stick with your own kind, Li.”

  He swore in his head. What else had he expected? “Okay, yeah, thanks for the advice. I’m good. I’m fine.”

  “You sure?” She sounded doubtful. “You don’t sound fine.”

  “I’m good,” he repeated. “Listen, Ma, I gotta go, but you need anything? You okay for money?”

  Another long pause. “Well. I mean, I could always use—”

  He cut her off. “I’ll wire some into your account tonight, okay? Talk soon. Bye.” He hung up without waiting for her to answer.

  He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He had just walked as he talked, without thinking about where he was going, and now he was turned around. One of Liam’s most carefully hidden secrets was how, after all these years, he still got lost in Manhattan.

  Chapter 32

  “Well,” said Ava as she reached over and snagged a chip from Bridget’s bag, “this is so not what I thought was going to happen.”

  “What do you mean?” yelped Bridget. “This is all your fault! You made this happen! You freaking threw us together!”

  The friends were lunching together on the High Line, enjoying the early summer sunshine and pulled pork sandwiches from the Chelsea Market while they watched Dylan run up and down the path.

  Ava widened her eyes. “Yeah, but I just thought you guys would have dinner, and Jay would offer you a job. End of story.” She leaned back against the bench and stretched her long legs out in front of her. “I mean, I guess I should have figured that you’d end up sleeping together, but then either you’d get all squirrely and controlling like you always do and push him away for no reason, or he’d start moping about his ex-wife again and get all gross and weepy. I certainly didn’t think you were going to end up having soul mate sex and then squaring off over a billion dollars.”

  “It wasn’t soul mate sex. And I do not get squirrely and controlling.”

  “Uh, when you say it was the best sex of your life, that certainly sounds like soul mate stuff. And you do so get squirrely. You can’t even order a meal without being totally, ridiculously controlling about it. Don’t even try to deny it.”

  “Dylan!” Bridget called at the rapidly retreating back of her son. “Not so far, honey, okay? Stay where I can see you!” Ava reached for another chip and Bridget pushed the bag toward her. “Here, just take it. Don’t you get paid enough to buy your own chips?”

  Ava raised an eyebrow as she took the chips. “Case in point.”

  Bridget glared at her. “You’re not helping.”

  Ava laughed. “I don’t know what you want me to say here. Congratulations on the amazing not-soul-mate sex? I hope you become a billionaire? Lean in, sister, you can have it all? What?”

  “I want you to say that I’m not crazy! I want you to tell me that I’m not putting this job in jeopardy by seeing this guy! I want you to tell me to cut it the hell out!”

  “Oh, you’re definitely crazy. But that’s nothing new.” She popped a chip into her mouth. “But I don’t know, I mean, why end something so good before it even really begins? Don’t you want to see how it turns out?”

  “Because I hardly know the guy. Why not just cut my losses now?”

  Ava shook her head. “This is why you haven’t stuck it out with anyone since Kevin.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You find something wrong with everyone. Remember Chris Helborg?”

  “Jesus, Ava, this is a little bigger than chewing with your mouth open.”

  “Exactly. That was literally the only thing wrong with Chris—he had bad table manners. Other than that? Hot, rich, funny, he was crazy about you...”

  “I once watched him eat an entire salad with his hands.”

  Dylan came running back. “Can I have a popsicle, please, Mommy?”

  “Of course you can, honey,” interjected Ava. She loved to spoil her friend’s kid.

  Bridget snorted in protest as Ava reached for her purse and started to stand, but Dylan shook his head. “I can do it. Just give me the money. It’s two dollars and seventy-five cents. I asked.”

  Ava raised her eyebrows. “So independent.” She handed him a ten-dollar bill. “Bring one for me and your mommy, too, and tell him to keep the change.”

  “He doesn’t need more sugar right now,” muttered Bridget as Dylan ran toward the ice-cream stand. “He had a cookie with his lunch.”

  Ava put her finger in the air and turned back to Bridget. “Please hold for a moment. I want to back up to the part where you told Harrington his architect’s renderings were boring and he threw you out of his office, but then for some mysterious reason, he agreed with you, after all—do you think that means he needs a new architect?”

  Bridget laughed in disbelief. “What happened to Harrington being an asshole? Now you want to work with him, too?”

  Ava shrugged. “Well, I can’t spend the rest of my life designing Scarlett’s rumpus rooms.”

  “Well, actually, you probably could...”

  Ava waved her hands. “Look at this beautiful, beautiful park we’re in. It’s original, it’s useful, it’s iconic. It changed New York City permanently and for the better. And it was created in our lifetime. And look over there.” She pointed to the way the Empire State Building rose up out of the skyline, seemingly cradled at its base by the twisting spires of the General Theological Seminary. “Look how timeless those buildings are. They’re art. They’re poetry, Bridget. That’s what I want. I want to design something even a fraction as amazing as those. I want to change the landscape. Make something so important that it will be here making people’s lives better for years after I’m gone. And I don’t want to do it anonymously. I’m sick of men claiming my work for their own. I’m in it for the glory. I want my name on the buildings. Architect, Ava Martinez—in big, bold gold letters.”

  Bridget took a bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly, taking in the view of the historic buildings, the wildflowers dipping in the breeze around them, the sense of being tucked up away from the busy streets. People were lolling on the benches or walking dreamily hand in hand down the never-ending bridge. “Next time, we’re gonna sit where we can look at the IAC Building,” she said, referring to the famously modern Frank Gehry–designed office.

  Ava snorted derisively. “Gehry. He watched too many monster movies. His stuff looks like the Blob Who Ate Manhattan.”

  Bridget rolled her eyes. “The Empire State is the past. This park, the IAC, that’s the future.”

  Ava widened her eyes. “And that’s why I want to work for someone like Harrington. I want a chance to design a building that will stand up to the test of time.”

  Bridget shook her head. “Okay, can we be done talking about your need to be immortal and get back to my problem, please? Before Dylan gets back?” She could see him struggling to decide on a flavor a few yards away. “I just need to know if I’m making a huge freaking mistake here, A.”

  Ava took a sip of water. “Look, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing this, but it actually kind of disappointed me when I heard Jason say that I reminded him of his ex. He’s hot, he’s smart, he’
s funny, he’s mega-rich. And if you managed to have crazy, mind-blowing, totally awesome sex with him? What is there to discuss? Go elope with him for goodness’ sake. Or at least go on a second date.”

  “But the job—”

  Ava held up her hand. “You’re going to get it, Bridget.”

  “But what if—”

  “I have never known you to go after something you really wanted and not eventually get it. You are absolutely terrifying that way. And when you get it, because Jay is a decent guy and already worth like twenty bajillion dollars, he will be happy for you. And then you can get married and have tiny miniature super-rich contractor babies together.”

  “So you think this all can actually work?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

  Bridget sighed. “No. I’ve got to end it.”

  “So glad you asked my advice.”

  Bridget reached over and grabbed the chips. “Give those back to me.”

  Chapter 33

  Jay went to her apartment late that night. He knew that the smart thing would be to give her space, let her come to him, but he couldn’t resist. He’d lain in bed for an hour, fruitlessly trying to sleep, his mind and body on fire, before finally deciding to pull on a pair of jeans and take the train downtown.

  “It’s me,” he said into her intercom, and she buzzed him up.

  She’d obviously come from her bed, as well. Her hair was down, and her face was bare. She was wearing nothing but a thin, oversize men’s T-shirt, the neck big enough so that it slipped carelessly off her tanned shoulder.

  The rules were followed. In fact, not only did they not talk about work, they didn’t talk at all.

  Jason reached over and slowly pulled the shirt off her, dropping it in a pool at her feet. He sucked in his breath. He was so hard it was almost painful. She made him ache with need. He took a step forward and then swept her up into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom.

  There was something almost hallucinogenic about making love to her. They lay together in her darkened room and he shut his eyes and trailed his hands over her skin, and imagined tracers, swirling colors, shooting stars radiating off her body. She gasped, grabbing his hand and insistently guiding it to where she wanted to be touched. When his fingers found their warm, wet mark, he felt a jolt of absolute, pure joy run through him.

  They bathed after, tangled together in the warm glow of the candles lit around her tub, her back spooned to his chest, the ends of her long, wet hair drifting around his waist. He scooped a handful of warm water and poured it down her front, over her shoulder, watching it cascade in a silver rush down her breasts and back into the bath. Then he brushed aside her hair and kissed the nape of her neck, cradling her breasts in his hands as she arched back against him with a sigh.

  He would have given almost anything to have climbed back into her bed with her that night. He wanted to hold her as she slept, smell her hair and feel her skin against his, wake with her the next morning. But he knew better than to ask. He knew he was already pushing the bounds of what he could take from her.

  It rained as he walked back uptown, misty and warm, soaking his hair and his shirt, turning the streets a gleaming black that reflected the streetlights and headlights in wavering golden pools and streaks. He savored the strange sight of the Manhattan streets almost empty of people. It was late and wet and the few brave souls who were out dashed quickly from cover to cover, trying to keep dry.

  He arrived back at his apartment wet and chilled, didn’t even bother turning on the lights, just found his way to his bedroom, peeled off his damp clothes and collapsed, naked, into his own bed. He should have been sated and exhausted, but instead, images of Bridget played through his head, and he had to control the urge to get right back up and return to her again.

  Chapter 34

  Liam turned in the budget and proposal to Harrington & Kim in record time. He’d been using the job as an excuse, spending all his time at his office, crunching numbers and collating pages, avoiding going home until after Alli and Hana were asleep.

  After his conversation with his mother, he became convinced that the answer to his problems lay in his getting this job. Hana was used to the best things in life, she always had been, and obviously, he was not supporting her in the way that Jay had been able to. If he got this Harrison job, South Side Construction would be launched into a whole other sphere.

  He’d spent the night at his desk, poring over the numbers on the HealthTec budget, double-and triple-checking, before sending it off to Harrington & Kim via email. After, instead of going home, he’d stretched out on the couch in the office lounge and fallen asleep.

  His field manager, Alexander Redetzke, was the first to stumble upon him the next morning. He stood over Liam, clearing his throat until Liam said, without opening his eyes, “Redetzke, if you don’t freaking shut up I’m going to kick you in the nuts so hard, they’ll ooze out your nose.”

  “Well,” the man had squeaked indignantly, “excuse me for trying to get you up before all your employees see you drunk on the couch.”

  Liam opened his eyes. “I’m not drunk, you moron. I pulled an all-nighter reviewing the numbers on the Harrington and Kim budget. And what the hell do I care what my employees see? They’re my employees. I’m the boss, remember?”

  “You finished the—” Redetzke looked astonished.

  “Yeah, well.” Yawning, Liam sat up and ran his hands through his hair. “I finished it. Sent it to them last night.”

  Redetzke blinked. “Shouldn’t you have had the chief estimator give it one more look?”

  “Don’t worry about it. The numbers were right.” He sniffed the air. “Did you make coffee?”

  Redetzke frowned, offended. “That is not my job.”

  Liam rolled his eyes. “Your job is whatever I tell you to do. Either make some coffee or do a Starbucks run. In fact, definitely do that. I need a flat white, extra hot.”

  Redetzke’s mustache quivered. “You know I have a degree in engineering.”

  “Yeah, from SUNY frigging Binghamton. My degrees are from Yale, so you go get the coffee.”

  The man’s face went red, but he turned and left the room as instructed.

  Liam fell back onto the couch with a groan.

  He knew he shouldn’t be messing with his employees like that. Redetzke was a top-notch field super, OSHA and LEED certified with a mechanical engineering degree, and Liam was lucky to have him; he’d be nearly impossible to replace. But he was exhausted and worried over Hana, raw and anxious, and the idea of making nice with his whiny, humorless employee seemed pretty much impossible.

  He made a mental note to apologize later, after he got more sleep and was back in Hana’s good graces. But for now he dragged himself back into his office, to get started on the day’s work.

  Chapter 35

  Scarlett was showing Bridget where she wanted to put in a hidden door in her bedroom. Normally, Bridget would be racing off to the bathroom to relay this information via text to Ava—they had a running bet on who had to do the weirdest stuff for this job—but today she could hardly focus enough to hear what Scarlett was telling her.

  “Bridget,” said Scarlett. Her tone was sharp. “I just asked you three times if we can put the door behind these bookshelves. Where the hell are you?”

  Bridget ran her hands over her hair. “Sorry. I’m exhausted. Um. Yes, sure we could, sure.”

  Scarlett looked at her. Her shrewd gray eyes gleamed with sudden understanding. “Oh! Why, Bridget, did you get laid last night?”

  Bridget groaned and covered her face with her hands. Why couldn’t she hide this from anyone? First Ava, then Ethan and now Scarlett. Next thing she knew her ma would be calling to say that she’d read all about it in Page Six.

  “Why, you did! You little minx! I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone!” Scarlett s
ounded inordinately pleased.

  “I’m not,” said Bridget from behind her hands. She uncovered her face. “I’m just...sleeping with him. In fact, last night I don’t think we said more than ten words to each other.”

  “Oh, my,” said Scarlett. She sat down on her enormous, perfectly made bed and patted the spot next to her. “Come sit by me, said the spider to the fly.”

  Bridget threw herself down next to Scarlett, lying across the bed and closing her eyes. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Scar,” she said. Then she popped her eyes open again. “Oh, my God, what is this comforter made out of? It’s so soft!”

  “Nothing you can afford,” said Scarlett smugly. “Less than a dozen goats in the Himalayas can make this fabric.”

  Bridget rolled her eyes. Leave it to Scarlett to find the rarest wool in the world.

  Scarlett primly crossed her legs. “So, tell me about this silent young man. I assume it is a man,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Such a waste of your talents.”

  Bridget didn’t sit up. “Yup. Sorry.”

  “Well, what’s he like?”

  Bridget pondered this for a moment, staring up at the mirror on Scarlett’s ceiling.

  “He’s amazing in bed. Like, I-can’t-stop-thinking-about-it kind of amazing. Like, if I could just climb into bed with this guy and screw him until we both starved to death, I would call that a pretty good way to go.”

  “Well, I approve of that. What else?”

  Bridget wrinkled her nose. “He’s a good guy, I think. Except, he’s the competition.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, I mean, he wasn’t when we started sleeping together. But then he was.”

  “Hmm.”

  “He’s got these eyes. They’re like crazy intense green and all sleepy-looking, and these super-cut arms and shoulders... I think I have to break up with him.”