by Lucy Lambert
That stung. “I know. I let things go too long. We had something good going, and I thought things might change after I told you everything. I didn’t want things to change.”
“Things don’t always change for the worse, you know. They can also change for the better. I miss you,” she said those last three words so quietly I almost didn’t catch them.
“I miss you, too.”
She looked up at me again, this time not dropping my gaze. “If you care so much, why didn’t you do anything? I know you’re blocked on my phone and everything. But I really thought you might come over. I was willing to talk about it. Why weren’t you?”
I leaned forward so that I could reach out and put my hand over her wrist. “Rachel, I tried seeing you. I tried seeing you that same night.”
She looked at me askance, “No. I was home. I think I would have noticed if you tried to come over.”
“Your friend answered the door. The dark-haired one. Suzy? She told me that you hated me and never wanted to see or speak to me again,” I said.
She tugged her hand out from under mine and rubbed at her cheek with it. “What? My friend Suzy was over, yeah. She answered the door. She said it was a pizza delivery guy at the wrong address.”
I leaned forward some more. By this point, the heat from my knuckles started melting the ice. The tea towel was wet against my knuckles. “Then she lied to you and she lied to me, Rachel... There’s something else. She hit on me. A couple of times, actually.”
I felt relief. It’s all just some misunderstanding. Some jealous friend. I thought we could move forward.
Then Rachel leaned back. She let go of the tea towel. It fell, sending a bunch of half-melted ice cubes sliding along the top of the Formica tabletop.
“No. Suzy’s never lied to me about anything. She’s my best friend! Why are you saying these things?” She crossed her arms, instantly closing herself off from me.
“I’m not lying, Rachel.”
She snarled, “Oh? And why should I believe you? You’ve lied about things before. Why not now?”
I sighed, felt my shoulders slump back against the thin padding of the bench, “I didn’t lie, exactly. I just didn’t tell you everything all at once. This is different.”
Rachel slid out from the booth. She looked down at me. “No, what this is is a waste of time. Thanks again for the rescue. But stay the hell away from me from now on, Neil. Got it?”
I knew what happened. She trusted her friend. She didn’t want to believe that someone so close could betray her like that. She didn’t want to believe but a part of her did and she hated that, and so she lashed out at me, the revealer of said betrayal.
“We can work this out,” I said.
“There is no this,” she said, pointing rapidly between the two of us, “Not anymore. Have a nice life, Neil.”
She stormed out. I watched her go. I wanted to go after her, but I knew that was a bad idea. For now, at least.
She knew the truth, she just had to accept it. But will she?
The waitress came over again, looking at the spilled ice all over the table. As we watched, one cube, sliding in a trail of water of its own making, fell off onto the linoleum. It exploded, the tiny shards melting into puddles almost instantly.
“Well, this is a nice mess,” the waitress said.
“Yes, it is,” I replied.
Chapter 23
RACHEL
The thing I hated most about myself at that moment was how I wanted to go right back into that diner and sit with him again.
His poor knuckles...
I didn’t, though. I had some pride and dignity, after all.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw things. Throw a truly epic tantrum for the ages. But I couldn’t. Not in the cab that I took to the station. Not in the train car, surrounded by strangers.
By the time I got back to my apartment, the sharpest edge of that anger and frustration had dulled somewhat.
Enough that instead of trashing the place, I sat on my sagging couch with my face cradled in my hands. I watched the random ghosts and lights pass on the back of my eyelids for I don’t know how long.
I have to set this straight. I have to hear her tell me. Because I didn’t have that sense of closure that I wanted.
Because no matter how much I wanted to believe that my friend would never do something like that to me... There were doubts. Ridiculous doubts. Stupid doubts. But doubts nonetheless.
I fumbled out my phone, found Suzy in the message app.
Come over. Need to see you now.
The message disappeared into the ether. I thought about confronting her over text, over a phone call maybe. But no, I couldn’t. This needed to be face to face.
I needed to see her eyes.
She replied quickly.
Okay, will come soon. Something wrong?
I reiterated that I needed to see her in person. She said again she would come soon.
Soon felt like forever. I paced around my little living room, went in through my kitchen, out into the little foyer, then back again.
I was on lap 10 or so when I heard the knock at the door.
I ran over, threw the deadbolts back, and wrenched it open. Suzy stood in the hallway, a slightly confused expression on her face.
“What is it? What’s wrong? Was it Jeff? I could’ve sworn you guys would’ve hit it off,” she asked.
I grabbed her and pulled her inside. I closed the door behind her. She followed me into the living room, where I kept pacing.
“You're going to wear a rut into the floor if you don’t let up,” she said, smiling.
I didn’t laugh at the joke. That was when I guess it hit her that this was serious. She came over and took my hands in hers, making me stop.
“What is it, Rach?”
“I saw Neil tonight.”
“What? Like from across the street or something? Because that sort of thing’s bound to happen. Manhattan is big, but not that big,” Suzy said.
Did I see a touch of concern in her eyes? Or was I just projecting my own feelings?
I thought about telling her about the nightmare date I’d had with Jeff. She had set me up with him, after all. But I decided that was beside the point, for now, at least.
“No. As in I saw him face to face, like I see you now. We talked, like we’re talking now. That kind of I saw Neil.”
“Why? Rachel, you know the best way to deal with him is to sever completely. You should never have spoken to him.”
“I know, but I did. And he said things, Suze. Things I can’t get out of my head. That’s why I need you here.”
Her grip tightened on my hands. “What did he say?”
I paused here, swallowing against the dryness in my mouth and throat.
Do you really want to know? I thought.
Want? No. Need? I thought so.
“He said that he did come over that night,” I said, “He told me that you answered the door and told him I didn’t want to see him. That I hated him. That he should leave me alone.”
No, Rach, it was just a pizza guy like I told you the first time, I heard her voice in my mind. The trouble was, I didn’t hear it out loud.
Not soon enough, at least.
“It was just a pizza guy...” she said.
This time I squeezed her hands so that she looked me in the eye. “Suze? Was it? Or was it Neil?”
Her lower lip trembled a little. She held eye contact a moment longer and then looked down. Her hands went slack in mine.
“It was Neil.”
I dropped her hands, stepped back from her. I rubbed at my eyes. Then I forced myself to take a breath and let it out.
“Why, Suzy?”
She reached across herself and held onto her elbow. She wouldn’t look at me. “Because he hurt you. I didn’t want you hurt again, that’s all.”
I could almost believe. I wanted to believe, and that was the worst part. That yearning to give her the benefit of the doubt. I hurt
inside with the need of it.
But I couldn’t. Not with the way she wouldn’t look at me. Not with how she closed herself off from me the way she did.
“Why, Suzy?” I said. I wished for her to give me something I could believe. Anything at all, really. A crumb of truth was all I asked for.
That I didn’t believe her made her angry. She looked up at me suddenly, lips pressed tight and her cheeks flushed red.
“Because I don’t like him, okay? Is that what you want to hear? That guy is an asshole and that’s the absolute least he deserved. I’m glad I did it. I’m glad I made him leave that night.”
I wanted to sit so badly. My knees felt liquidy and unstable. I knew if I did my strength would go, and I needed to see this through to the end.
“Suzy... Neil told me that you hit on him. Twice. Is that true, too?”
She took a step toward me, and I took a corresponding step back. She stopped, which was good. I didn’t have the space behind me to retreat farther.
“Fine, I did. Is that what you want to hear? I did. Because he’s not your type. Because I thought he was hot.”
Pressure started pushing unkind hands against the back of my eyes. I blinked against it, but it didn’t help. “But Suzy, you already have a boyfriend! Why would you do this?”
“Because I get bored, okay? I knew you’d screw it up with him anyway. You always do. I was surprised it went as long as it did. It’s not my fault that you’re always going to be single. You know I’m right. I was just taking advantage of the inevitable.”
She might as well have slapped me. I thought I should hate her then. I certainly had cause. Instead I felt only numbness. Cold, numb, emptiness where my stomach should have been.
It surprised us both how calm the next words that came out of my mouth sounded.
“I want you to leave, Suzy. I want you to leave and I never want to see you again. I never want to speak to you again. I want you to stay away from me. Do you understand?”
My knees threatened to buckle again. I couldn’t hold out much longer.
“Rachel...” Suzy started. She began reaching for me.
“Do. You. Understand?” I said again. I was frankly shocked that I wasn’t screaming at the top of my lungs.
“I’ll text you later,” Suzy said.
“No, you won’t.”
I watched her leave, heard the door shut behind her. I don’t know where I found the strength, but I went and threw the deadbolts back into place.
Then I climbed into my bed and curled myself into as tight a ball around one of my pillows as I could manage. It was a good tear absorber, that pillow, as I soon discovered.
I wished Neil was there with me. I thought I could find his number somehow, some way. And he’d come, I knew.
Except I didn’t want him to see me like this.
I DIDN’T HAVE HIS NUMBER. And it was hard to find the private, unlisted cell number of a billionaire CEO. Who would’ve thought, right?
But I did remember where he lived. The suite number and everything.
So the next morning I sent Mr. Diehl’s secretary an email nice and early telling them I felt under the weather and didn’t think I could come in until the afternoon, health permitting.
I hadn’t taken a single sick or vacation day yet since I started. I remember what Mr. Diehl told me about showing them I could take the stress of the job.
But this was more important.
I took the train into Manhattan, then a cab over to the park. I walked the rest of the way to the Upper West Side building where Neil lived, breathing in the fresh and cool air of the morning as I did.
It helped me work out some of the jitters. And it gave me an excuse to not look at my phone, which exploded with messages and calls from Suzy. When I blocked her main number, she used another. Then another.
I pushed Suzy out of my mind. Evicted her, really.
My plan to see Neil went swimmingly until I reached the front door of his building, with its green awning and the doorman in his red jacket and matching cap.
“I need to see Neil Telford,” I said to him.
He held up a warning hand. “Sorry, you don’t live here and I haven’t received any instruction about letting anyone in to see Mr. Telford.”
“If you’d let me buzz him, I’m sure he’ll let me in...” I said, starting for the door again.
He gave me a tight, long-suffering smile and kept his hand up so I couldn’t pass. “You don’t understand, Miss. This isn’t that kind of building. Have you tried texting or calling him? If he calls down here and gives the word, I’ll let you in.”
It was my turn for a tight-lipped smile. “Actually, I kind of don’t have his number anymore. Please, this is really important. Just this once? He’ll understand.”
If I had him on my side at all before, when he learned that I didn’t even have Neil’s cell number I lost him completely.
I saw the look in his eyes. The one that said, Oh, one of those women.
“I’m afraid that I can’t help you, Miss. Except, of course, if you would like me to hail you a cab...?”
I could go, come back another time. But I had all of this resolve at that moment.
Besides, I didn’t think I could get away with taking another half day.
“No, I don’t want a cab,” I said, frustration coming out in my voice.
“Then I’m going to have to ask you to leave. The police don’t take kindly to loiterers in this neighborhood,” he said.
My eye twitched. “Loiterer!? I’ll...”
I stopped. I saw my opening. An older man and woman, the woman cradling some little white puff of a dog in her arms, came to the door.
The man pushed the door open for the woman.
The doorman saw what I meant to do a moment too late to stop me.
“Wait! You can’t go in!” he said. He snatched at me. I felt the breeze the passage of his fingers made. But he didn’t catch me.
“Pardon me!” the old man holding the door said while I squeezed in past him.
“Sorry!” I called back over my shoulder. My heart pumped pure excitement and elation through me while I ran to the elevator.
Another glance over my shoulder showed me the gridlock I caused at the entrance. The little dog had jumped from the woman's arms. It jumped and hopped and ran about on the floor, wrapping its lead around the woman’s legs, yapping excitedly the whole time. Her husband reached in to help, blocking the doorman from coming inside.
“Stop! Wait!” he called over them at me.
“Sorry!” I said again. The elevator dinged and I stepped inside the car.
As the door closed a terrible thought occurred to me: What if he’s not in? What if he is in but he doesn’t want to see me?
If either of those happened to be the case I imagined the answer to those questions would be arrest for trespassing.
And my friends thought I was boring.
But it was worth the risk. I knew that now.
The elevator dinged again, and I rushed out into the hall. In my excitement, I started down the wrong way. I righted myself quickly.
I wondered how much time I had before the stairwell door burst open and the doorman came to kick me out.
I rushed over to Neil’s door, with its thumbprint lock. I hammered on it.
Not very ladylike, but I was pressed for time.
I stopped. Then hammered again.
“You!”
I turned. The doorman stood down at the other end of the hall, his face red and his jaw jutting out. The dash up the stairs had canted his hat at a funny angle.
He took a second to right it, then he squared his shoulders and started an inexorable march down the hall towards me.
I turned back to the door and hammered again.
Man, I really was stupid to think that this would work.
The doorman got to about 10 feet from me when the door opened.
“Who in the hell is it?” Neil growled. Then he saw me and the irrit
ation left his face.
The doorman got to me by then. He planted one meaty, sweaty hand on my shoulder and gave Neil an apologetic look.
“I’m really sorry, Mr. Telford. She managed to slip inside before I could stop her. I can call the police, if you like?”
I shot Neil a, You better not! look.
He reached up and stroked his chin, making a real show of it, squinting at me and everything. Even the doorman started to squirm.
“Again, sir, many apologies. There was some confusion at the door and... and I promise it will never happen again. She’s tenacious, this one.”
“Yes, she is,” Neil agreed, “I’ll tell you what. Turn her over to me and I’ll see she’s taken care of. No word to building management about this incident from me if you do.”
“Well,” he said, “It is against the policy on trespassers...”
“And who allowed said trespass?” Neil said.
The doorman, whom I felt sorry for at that moment (he was only doing his job, after all), closed his mouth with an audible click and cogitated for a moment.
“I, uh, see your point, Mr. Telford, sir. Not a word to management?”
“We can shake on it,” Neil said, dropping his hand from his chin so he could offer it.
The doorman considered this as well. “Not necessary, sir. Sorry to bother you. I should get back to my post.”
He left. We both waited until the stairwell door closed shut with a hollow boom behind him.
I turned to Neil. “I can’t believe you let it go on that long! He wanted me arrested!”
Neil shrugged. He wore an impious smile that flickered in his eyes. “He did. Your fate was in my hands.”
“You... You!” I said, searching for the right words. Instead, I jabbed him in the chest with my finger.
He fell back, into his condo. I followed, still jabbing at his chest. I hardly heard the door close behind me.
It happened all at once. Me, poking at his chest, searching for something appropriate to call him. Then his arms went around me, pulled me close, pinning that accusatory finger of mine between us.
“Enough of that,” he said.
Then he kissed me. My eyes stayed open in shock at first. The impertinence! How dare he... Oh, this is nice, isn’t it?