New York Minute

by Melinda Dozier

  She held up the umbrella on her Shirley Temple. “Can I have more cherries for my Temple?”

  He laughed and palmed her long, dark hair behind her back. “That’s not a dinner, but I can get some more if you eat everything on your plate.”

  She squealed and hugged him. “I love our dinners, Papa.”

  “Me too, princesa. Me too.”

  • • •

  Us Apart

  Miles between us. Worlds apart.

  You’re not at my side.

  A new beginning far and wide.

  Now we must become a new start.

  Us Anew

  Four days later, Diego sat at the edge of his electric keyboard, his head in his hands. He’d tried to talk to Veronica. Called her, texted her, called Chloe, tried to get into the merchandising department. She’d told the front desk to tell him she didn’t work there. He’d been restless for days and hadn’t slept. Mixed emotions surged through his days. How could he explain the truth? Why the fuck didn’t she take his calls? Why was she so angry in the first place? Sure, he didn’t tell her, but did it really make that big of a difference? Sometimes he understood; other times he was confused as hell.

  A noise from the front of his loft sounded and his freakin’ brother appeared next to him, with his hands in his pockets, wearing a damn frown.

  Diego didn’t even look up. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “You haven’t left your apartment in two days, hermano.” Marco grabbed a chair, pulled it toward him, and straddled it. “You’ve got to get yourself together.”

  Diego let out a long, deep sigh and stared at his feet. “You don’t get it. She won’t take my calls, let me into her apartment, or even see me at work.” A lump formed in his throat. “I don’t know what else to do. She won’t hear me out.” Then he looked up. The pity in his brother’s eyes startled him and his heart beat faster. “This is all your fault. I should kick your ass.”

  Marco sat back and held his palms up. “Wait a minute. I take partial credit for this, but you should’ve told her about Sofia a long time ago.”

  The nerve of him. “Mother fucker. You know I was going to tell her, when it was right.”

  “Yeah, well—” Marco tipped his chin to his chest and grimaced. “By the way, you look like shit. Have you even showered?”

  “Are you here to make me feel worse?” The ache in the back of his throat grew twofold, and he coughed to ease the pain. “She won’t talk to me. Period. I’m fucked.”

  Marco gave a small nod. “All right, but what are you going to do now?”

  “Shit if I know.” Diego ran his hand through his hair and dropped his shoulders. He’d asked himself that same question for days. He wasn’t one to give up, but he didn’t know what else to do.

  “Go out and find her. Make her talk to you so you can explain this shit.” Marco stood and put his hand on Diego’s shoulder. “Come on. Get up.”

  “She won’t see me.”

  “I’ve never seen you give up so easily, little brother. Get your ass up, put on your fancy cologne, and find a way.”

  Diego stared at his brother. “If she really knows me, she knows I would never hurt her on purpose.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing sitting here feeling sorry for yourself? Man the fuck up and find her. Make her listen in any way possible. You’re smart—it’s in the genes. Do it.”

  Diego stood, knocking over his guitar case. “Yeah, you’re right. I can’t leave it like this. She needs to know the truth.” He paced the small space by the window. “I’ve got to figure out how to make her listen.”

  “Thousands of people listen to you every weekend. If they do, she will.” His brother squeezed his shoulder and stared him straight in the eyes. “As Papa used to say, follow your heart.” Marco gave a weak smile on his way out the door.

  Diego stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “When did you get so smart?”

  “I’ve always been the smarter one. You’re just figuring it out.”

  Diego flipped him off. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Marco grabbed the doorknob and winked. “Let me know what happens.”

  Diego stared out his window overlooking Washington Square. When he moved to New York, he’d dreamed of making it big, not only in the music world, but in his personal life. Of course, he desired a woman—a wife and a family. He just never thought he’d find the right person, especially after his mess-up with Sofia’s mom. But Veronica made him see clearer, and now he knew it could happen. He could have it all.

  His eyes prickled with something wet, but he wouldn’t allow the wussy emotions to get in the way of his end goal: to find Veronica and make her listen. Like Marco said, he had to make a plan. Now, before Veronica slipped through his fingers.

  He ran up his spiral staircase, two steps at a time. He had to shower, damn his brother for noticing, dress … and win his woman back. One way or another.

  • • •

  Diego sat on the stoop of Veronica’s apartment. He looked at his watch—three hours he’d been waiting. No answer on the telephone and no answer to the buzz at her apartment. He even tried to call Chloe again, but she called him every bad word in the English language, plus one really rude one in Spanish that Marco probably taught her. What the woman didn’t know was he wouldn’t leave until Veronica listened to the truth. After a few hours curled up in his biggest jacket and layers of socks, he decided that might not have been the smartest plan. His fingers might freeze off and then his career would be over.

  So, after ten minutes of pacing the sidewalk to get warm, he sat down again and strummed his guitar. A few people came and went, not once complaining about his music, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass if anyone complained. Music calmed him. And after the disaster of Marco’s announcement, he realized that Veronica calmed him and he freaking needed her.

  He needed Veronica.

  There was no doubt she was pissed. He would be, too, if he learned of a deception to such a degree. It wasn’t as if Sofia wasn’t important. He’d left out the core of who he was with the woman he wanted to be with. Now he had to get the whole truth out. One way or another.

  And though Veronica was pissed, he was too. After all they’d been through, she took such drastic measures to completely ignore him—wouldn’t even hear him out, and he at least deserved that much.

  He was prepared to tell it all—how Sofia was a product of a one-night stand but the most precious gift God had ever provided him. He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and searched for the last school photo Sofia’s mother sent him. His daughter had started kindergarten a few months before, and in the picture she wore a huge, pink bow along with her constant smile. He’d sworn that even though she was born out of wedlock, he would be there for her. Sure, his monthly trips to Miami included recordings and shows, but Sofia was at the top of his list.

  Maria, with whom he had a friendly relationship, allowed his visits with Sofia, even when he surprised them with more than one a month, which happened more lately thanks to his brother scheduling a new album production in Miami. Marco could be a real dick sometimes, but he knew Diego’s love for Sofia outweighed anything in the world.

  Diego had to convince Veronica he loved her—shit, he loved her—and would add her to the top of his list too, if she let him.

  At eight thirty a taxi pulled to the curb and Diego squinted through the low streetlight beaming down on the sidewalk. Veronica apparently didn’t see him when she got out, pulling up her big purse on her shoulder, digging through it for her keys. Diego stood, wobbling on his heels, his heart beating quicker, and almost said her name. Before he could, a tall, blond man in a business suit strode around the front of the taxi toward her.

  “Here we are,” the blond guy muttered and grabbed her elbow, leading her to the stoop.

  Who the hell was this guy? Diego looked down the sidewalk in the other direction, ran his hand through his hair, and after a deep breath mustered up enough balls to say somethi
ng. “Vero?”

  She stopped short in her tracks and opened her mouth wide. The other guy looked between them with narrowed eyes. “You know him?”

  That’s right, fucker. She is my girlfriend, so hands off. But he had to play it cool. It was now or never, so Diego held his chin high and stepped toward her. “Can we talk?”

  “What are you doing here?” Panic rose in her voice.

  He tried his charming smile, the one that made fans scream. “I’ve been trying to speak to you for days. I thought this was my only shot.”

  Veronica’s eyes widened in wonderment, fright, or both.

  She didn’t say a word, so the jerkwad, who still had his freakin’ hand on her elbow, spoke up instead. “It doesn’t sound like she wants you here.” He pulled Veronica past Diego to the stairs. “Come on. I’ll get you inside.”

  Who was this man and why was he touching her like that? Luckily, it was only her elbow, but still, he didn’t like to see any man close enough to Veronica to stab Diego’s heart. Before the bastard could get Veronica up the stairs, Diego spoke louder. “We need to discuss what Marco told you.”

  Veronica swung around and shrugged herself out of businessman’s hold. “I don’t think so.”

  Diego rubbed his chin and stepped closer. This wasn’t exactly going as planned. “Please.”

  She cackled, her head back, and a jolt of awareness ran through him. Oh, he’d love to take her in his arms, run his tongue down her neck, and tell her he loved her, but he had to get the truth out first.

  “Your brother told me about your omission of truth. About your little girl. You lied to me. That’s all I need to know.” She breathed rapidly, her chest rising and falling.

  His heart tore at the sight of her. “Cariño, I didn’t lie out of malice. I didn’t want—”

  “Look, you’re obviously upsetting Veronica. Leave her alone.” The blond man was infuriating Diego, especially since he turned her around and placed his palm across her lower back to walk her to the door.

  Diego rushed up to the door and held it shut. “Please hear me out. At least do that, then if you want to throw me out, you can.” But he wouldn’t let her even get close to doing that—all she had to do was hear the truth.

  Veronica bit her lip, her chest still rising, her silky top falling between her breasts where her long necklace lay.

  “Please. Let me tell you my story.” He’d get on his knees if he had to.

  The asshole stepped between them, putting his shoulder in front of Vero’s face. “Veronica, get upstairs. Ignore him.”

  “No, David, it’s okay. I’ll hear him out, but I will kick him to the curb after he says what he needs to.” She eyed Diego firmly with her last words.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded and then forced a smile at this David character. “Thank you for dinner. It was lovely.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.” David leaned to whisper in Veronica’s ear, loudly enough so Diego could hear, and his fists curled at his sides. “This is the guy who broke your heart, huh? Be careful.”

  “I think it’s time you go.” Diego took a step forward but stopped himself from hitting the guy.

  This David shit stared for too long, but before Diego could do anything, David apparently thought better of it and took a deep breath, backing down the steps. “I’ll pick you up on Monday in accounting, then. Say twelve?” he asked Veronica.

  Diego cocked his head. “Why accounting?”

  Her date crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Diego from the bottom of the steps. “If you really cared enough about Veronica, you’d know what she does for a living.”

  Diego took a step back, studying Veronica, who stood with her mouth slightly open. “You’re an accountant, aren’t you? All those times I went to your office have been in vain, because you fucking work as an accountant.” He tipped his head back to look skyward. “Shit. I should’ve seen the signs.”

  David laughed through his nose. “Veronica, you still want me to leave?”

  “I think you should go, David.” Veronica grasped the keys in her hand. She avoided eye contact with Diego.

  The big lug shrugged and waved good-bye, but Diego barely saw anything behind the rage that had built up.

  “I can’t believe you told me some bullshit story about working for Macy’s. I trusted you.” Diego walked closer, his gaze colliding with hers when she stole a glance. She looked back down, because she couldn’t—wouldn’t—look at him.

  She placed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I do work for Macy’s … as an accountant.” With her last word, she raised her chin and stared back at him.

  “You didn’t tell me the truth.”

  “You’re one to talk.” She turned on her heel and fumbled with her key to open the door.

  He chanced touching her—even though he was mad as all get out, he still wanted her, to feel her. “Why did you lie about your job? You should know you don’t have to lie to me.”

  She began to pull the door open, but he held it closed with one hand.

  “You know your job doesn’t really matter, right?” He leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “You are who you are, no matter what.”

  A whimper fell from her plump lips. He was getting to her. But damnit, he was pissed. Why lie?

  “Have you lied about other things? Are you dating blondie, too? Are you two-timing me?”

  He couldn’t help himself. He was jealous. The fucker had his hand on her back and had taken her to dinner. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been here and this David guy went inside with Veronica? Sweat beaded around his forehead, even after all the waiting in the cold for her to show up.

  “You have some nerve.” She shook her head and opened the door.

  “You should know you can trust me, Vero. Regardless of what you think about me, I’m loyal to you. You and me are an item, and that’s it. Just us. No David. No other woman. We’re an us, remember?”

  Veronica melted into the doorway, her eyes wet with tears, and it broke his heart. “Why are you doing this to me? Do you know how hard this is?”

  “Then say something, Vero. Do something. Fight.” He stepped forward and touched her cheek. “That’s why I’m here.”

  She leaned into his palm and pulled back as if she remembered she shouldn’t do that. “You lied, too.”

  “No, cariño.” He put his hands in his pockets to stop from touching her. “I admittedly omitted something very important, but I never lied.”

  “Let me explain, then.” She held the door wider.

  “Let me.” Diego grabbed his guitar case and followed her flowery smell into her apartment building, the curve of her neck taunting him. He itched to touch her, to play her like he was used to doing.

  His fingers shook with anticipation. Vero stared at their reflections in the shiny elevator, which felt far too small. But when she saw him looking back, she quickly retreated her gaze and searched in her bag for something.

  When they walked into her apartment, she threw her purse on a side table, crossed her arms in front of her beautiful, full chest, and huffed, “You have five minutes.”

  “You first.” Diego rubbed his cold hands together and pointed to the couch behind her. “Can we sit?”

  “No. You’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Okay.” Diego stepped closer and scratched his jaw. She still couldn’t meet his gaze, which killed him. He pinched his lips together and forced his hands back into his leather jacket pockets. “Why did you lie?”

  She chuckled under her breath. “Funny how this is my fault now.”

  “Fuck, Vero, this whole time you had stories about your job. Pure lies. So, yeah, I’m a little upset. At least I didn’t concoct a bunch of stories.”

  “Well, we’re not together anymore, so why should it matter?”

  “Not together?” He stepped closer. “Not together?” His hand cupped the back of her neck. “An us makes it through the tough times, too.” He b
ent down and kissed her. She paused—what else could he do to convince her if showing her his heart didn’t work?—but it was only an instant and the next thing he knew, she gave back, slowly, but with a hunger he felt. Their lips sought out each other, feeding a thirst that had formed for days.

  Then she pushed him away, staring at her feet. “Don’t.”

  He pointed his finger back and forth between them. “And if we weren’t together, that wouldn’t have happened. What’s going on?”

  Exasperated, Veronica put her hands on her sexy-as-hell hips. “So, here it is. I’m an accountant, not a buyer. Amanda’s the buyer, actually.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. The truth.” Diego propped against the kitchen counter.

  “I know it’s a boring job, and that’s why I changed it. I mean, at the wedding where I met you, I was there for some excitement in my life—stimulation, I called it. No one like you would ever be interested in me if you knew I was just one of those office workers with numbers up their butt.”

  He held back a laugh but smiled. “Interesting way of putting it.”

  “It’s not funny, Diego. My whole life I’ve been the boring sister, the boring friend, the boring worker. I’m sick of it. So, when you asked, I uttered the first thing that came to mind.”

  Diego couldn’t hold back anymore; he pressed his palms lightly against her cheeks. “You are so far from boring, I want to shake that nonsense out of you. You’re my animated, breathtaking, mind-blowing and, I must say, a bit dramatic, but appealing girlfriend. I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. If you’re an accountant, then you’re an accountant, but you’re not a boring one—you’re an impressive one. And I get that, Vero. Come here.”

  He grabbed her hand and led her to the couch, placing her in his lap and, fuck, it felt fantastic to have her there again. “A lot of people may know you’re an accountant. They know your job, but I don’t just ‘know’ you. I understand you. I understand who you are … despite your job.” He held her chin up. “And I love you for you.”

  “Even if I think Sir Isaac Newton is the bomb?”

  He rubbed her back and smiled. “Don’t you know I like a woman with smarts? So, you’re into Isaac Newton and Leonhard Euler? Impressive.”