by Riley Bancroft, Evelyn Berry, Cara Carnes, Jax Garren, Irene Preston, Rebecca Royce, Chandra Ryan
A picture of a giant apple with the words New York Is for Lovers would certainly garner his attention. He’d either glance at it, roll his eyes, and throw it out, or grin. She hoped it was the latter. Jake appreciated things others didn’t; receiving real mail might be a moment where he saw more than anyone else. Perhaps he’d feel her longing for him in it.
She didn’t have his home address. Of all things, she’d never seen his home. Lana had addressed it to him at the club and included her friend’s address on it since she didn’t have her own yet. She really hoped he responded. Especially because he hadn’t answered the message she’d sent when she first got back.
Lana guessed there was more than a 50-50 chance he was done with her. She wouldn’t blame him a bit. A simple postcard. Could it really make a difference?
As happy as she was to be home, if he wanted her back, she’d go. Seventy-two degrees, sun, and his arms around her at night—being in Austin sounded spectacular.
If he wanted her.
She really hoped he did.
Opening the mailbox, she shoved the postcard in before she could talk herself out of it. Nothing to do except wait.
—
“How long are you going to give him?” Lana’s friend Jolie called out to her from the bottom of the stairs in the five-story walkup Lana had rented. The apartment wasn’t much and she had to share it with a roommate whose job had something to do with pest extermination, but it was hers, and she was getting off Jolie’s coach—a real bonus.
Lana didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. Jolie had listened to endless moans about Jake for the last two months. His silence to her postcard, coupled with ignoring her text, had spoken volumes. He wasn’t interested.
“I’m done.”
Jolie came up next to her. “Good.”
Enough was enough. He’d wanted her to stay and she’d left. They were done. It might take her a while to get a hint, but she would eventually receive the message. Her job was okay. She didn’t love it, yet at least she didn’t have DBR’s attitude to contend with anymore. Her ex-boss was back in Austin, and through an email exchange with Paula, she knew there had been some bumps in the beginning of their working relationship. Lana’s replacement had eventually won him over, and everything seemed to be running smoothly.
She was glad, really. Maybe he’d go back to making music.
All in all it was better for everyone. She had a new apartment, and someday soon she’d wake up without thinking about the guy she had fallen for in Austin.
—
Jake pushed himself for a fifth mile. He hated running. It had always been his least favorite way to exercise. Training for a marathon had seemed a great idea when he’d started doing it. Months later, he was bored. Give him martial arts or biking any day of the week.
Everyone in Austin ran, so he did too.
Giving up the fight, he stopped his surge and got out of the way of those behind him so he could walk. His pulse slowed, and he took another sip of his water. Maybe he’d take up yoga.
His new project was going well. The company had sold, and his new engineering venture looked to be moving in the right direction. He groaned. So how could the whole project feel so damn dull?
The club, too, seemed uninteresting. He hadn’t visited in months. Everything there reminded him of her.
She’d been with him for eleven days. Would he never forget her? Never move on after losing her? How was he supposed to get on with the rest of his life?
He’d lived with a woman once and not been so long off his game afterwards. Why hadn’t Lana felt it too?
Jake kicked a rock and tried to breathe. In through his nose, out through his mouth. He still had her text message. How are you? She’d sent it the third day she was back in New York. Not that he was counting.
He still didn’t know how to answer her. Should he lie? Doing well. How about you? Everything inside of him protested falsehood. Acting as if all was fine would let her think what she’d done hadn’t bothered him, as if he could move on from it.
Should he tell the truth? I’m really awful. I think about you constantly. I miss your laugh. I wake up hard and desperate for you. My body shakes from need. I made a huge mistake letting you go four days earlier. I’d blame the concussion, only I’m really a giant moron.
She could feel sorry for him, pity. As she walked through New York City with her new boyfriend—or harem of men—she might throw a sad thought his way. Oh, poor Jake. Why did he fall so hard for me when I made it so completely clear I was not going to stay?
His phone rang, and he looked down at it, half expecting to see Lana’s number pop up. Of course it wasn’t. Juniper Thomas, the new manager of his club. He supposed he couldn’t think of her as new anymore. She’d been there for several months. He was lucky to have such a smart and capable employee.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hiya boss.” He’d asked her not to call him by anything except his name, yet she did anyway, and he’d gotten used to it after a while. “Let me guess. You are inventing something amazing.”
“Try pretending to run while really strolling through Zilker Park like some kind of tourist.”
She snorted. “In the middle of a workday?”
“Don’t worry. I stayed up until two am. I’m caught up.” Why was he discussing his sleep habits? She didn’t need to hear about his insomnia problems. “What’s going on?”
“I have a pile of mail here for you. Months of it. Sitting on your desk.”
It had been so long since he’d made it to the club. “Any of them bills?”
“No. I pay those immediately. The collection all looks to be magazines and stuff. All personal. Want me to throw it out?”
“I’ll stop by today to check it. Sorry I’ve been such an absentee landlord. Things got crazy for a bit. I’m trying to pull it all together.”
She said something to someone else in the background before she spoke again. “Don’t worry about. That’s what you’re paying me for. Could use an assistant manager…” Her voice trailed off.
“Yes. Yes. I’ll hire you someone.” Something he should have done a month earlier.
“Or I could do it.”
“No, not participating didn’t work out well last time. Let me do it. I’ll put the ad out later in the week.”
“Right.” He could hear her frustration and made a mental note not to put it off anymore. He liked Juniper and didn’t want her to quit. “See you soon.”
Disconnecting the call, he sped up his walk to a near jog. The quicker he got to his car, the faster he’d go pick up his junk mail and move on with his day. Maybe he’d go to the club later and hear some music. If he couldn’t be the guy he was before Lana, he had to figure out who he was in this new world.
—
The club was quiet. It always struck him as odd to be inside a building during daylight hours when it was such a nighttime place. As if he was out of sync between space and time. Another crazy thing he thought about which no one else did…
Juniper was in her office and waved to him when he passed. He mock saluted her, which made her smile, and he moved on. His office was down the hall, and when he entered it, he flipped on the light. Someone had been inside to clean, and clearly Juniper had been coming in and out to drop off his mail.
He quickly started to flip through the contents. What had he signed up for that had gotten him so many men’s underwear catalogs? Several gadget and travel magazines. He dumped all of them and stopped suddenly.
There, at the bottom, was a postcard. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten one. People didn’t send them anymore, not with social media making it so possible to instantly show off their vacation photos.
It read New York is for Lovers, and it showed a giant apple. He smiled at the silly image and flipped it over. No message and it wasn’t signed, with only a return address added to it.
Jake flopped down in his chair. Lana had sent it. She was the only person he really kne
w in New York other than a few business acquaintances and a distant cousin, who would absolutely not send such correspondence to him.
What was more, for the first time since she’d left, he could feel her again, as if she came out of the postcard and touched him. His body lit up, every nerve ending taking note of Lana’s small presence in his life again. Much more than the text message, the piece of mail meant something. She had bought the item, addressed it, sent it to him. Lana had reached out across distance and…
The date shot up at him and he clutched at his chest as if he’d been stabbed straight through the heart. She had sent it months ago. He stood up, his breathing heavy, as if he’d actually run the marathon he trained for.
He’d ignored her text and hadn’t responded to her mail. Lana had to think he was done with her. He had wondered what message to send. Well, he had delivered a response with silence, and now he wanted to kick himself. Hard.
No, a woman who was simply being friendly sent a text message. A postcard meant something entirely differently.
She loved him. Even if she didn’t know it yet. And she was in New York at the address on the postcard. He gripped his phone in his hand. Too much time had passed to simply send the woman a text message. She had to be hurt and giving up on him.
Nothing had changed, and yet everything felt different too. Why hadn’t either of them brought up dating from a distance? He had the kind of life where traveling back and forth would be possible. He was the biggest fool on the planet.
“At this point, if she still wants me, I’ll move to New York. Fuck it. I’ve made enough money. Retired at thirty-five. Why did I say no? Might be fun. My ability to see things can either follow me or move out of the way.”
“What?” Juniper spoke from the doorway. He hadn’t realized she was there. He stared up at her. In her late thirties, the woman had seen every major music concert and event he could name since she’d been old enough to do so. She lived for the scene.
“It’s time to rock and roll.”
—
New York was loud, tall, and busy. In the past, he’d found the buzz to be too noisy to deal with. As he leaned against the wall outside of her apartment building, which he had found thanks to the postcard, he could barely hear it all. Everything felt muted. It was seven at night. Shouldn’t she be getting home soon?
An hour earlier, he finally gave up the idea of surprising her and sent a text. She hadn’t responded, and he wouldn’t blame her. He’d ignored her message for months. For all he knew, she had his number blocked.
“You.” A voice called out, and it took him a second to recognize he was being addressed.
In front of him stood a woman he’d place about Lana’s age. She was tall with brown hair, which stopped at her shoulders. Her eyes were a pleasant shade of green, and he imagined they would be quite nice except they were fuming with anger directed toward him, which hindered their appeal. He really dug the nose ring she sported. He had never seen a piercing with a little red bell on the side of it.
“Are you talking to me?” He looked left and right. “Possible you have me mixed up with someone else.”
“No, I know who you are. We Googled you some afternoon after margaritas. You’re Jake Perry. The tech genius. And general asshat.”
“Um.” Okay, the stranger knew who he was and apparently hated him. “Something you found out about me really pissed you off, did it?”
“You broke my best friend’s heart.” She advanced on him. “When a woman sends you a postcard, you at least have the guts to call her up and say leave me alone. What kind of worm are you?”
Aha. The woman was Lana’s friend. Things made sense. He pulled the postcard out of his pocket. “The kind who only received this a day ago. Long story. Do you know when she’ll be back?”
Lana’s angry friend put her hands on her hips. “You got it and you immediately boarded a plane?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t answered his question. The angry lady was the gateway to Lana. Whatever hoops he had to jump, he would do as she wanted.
“Damn.” She shook her head. “I guess she hurt you too.”
“I’m not concerned with who did what right this second. I must see Lana. Do you know when she’ll be back? She’s ignoring my text.”
“I’m Jolie.” She placed her arms across her chest. “And she blocked you. Easier to think you’re texting and she’s not getting them than acknowledge she’s being ignored.”
He sighed, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders. “I see.”
“She moved. You’re outside my place. Come on, asshole. I’ll take you to her.”
“Really?” Was it possible she was going to murder him and leave his body somewhere?
“Yes. You got on a plane. Your gesture’s so…romantic. I still think you’re an asshat but whatever.”
He walked toward her. “Thanks. I think. Does every woman in New York swear the first time they meet a guy?”
A step closer to Lana. Whatever it took.
6
The knock on her door caught her attention. She looked up from her crossword puzzle and sighed. Only two people had keys to the building and she hadn’t buzzed anyone in. So, the knocker was either Jolie, whom she had no plans with, or it was her roommate’s father. She really hoped Jolie had stopped for an unexpected visit because if she had to tell her roommate’s father one more time she wanted nothing to do with him other than a passing acquaintance, she was going to throw something.
Of course, someone could have let some kind of religious people into the building. Telling them she wasn’t looking to find God would be preferable to the drunken father again. She stood by the door.
“Who is it?”
“Um.” A voice she never expected to hear again in her life had her gasping. “It’s Jake.”
She placed her hand on the door as if it could steady her. “Jake.”
“Yes.” The room filled with a long pause “Baby, I can see your beautiful soft glow under the door. Do you think you could let me in?”
Baby? She swung open the door with rage pouring through her. She wanted to…she didn’t know. If she had a dishrag she’d show him exactly what she had done to DBR is his kitchen.
He stepped inside, and she had to back up to give him room. Her heart couldn’t take it. She didn’t dare let him come too close or she might explode from the inside out. “How did you know where I lived?”
The man who shouldn’t be there gently closed the door behind him. She’d forgotten how controlled his movements always were, how he never seemed to be out of touch with every gesture of his body. Except for when he’d been in the hospital. And thrown her out.
“Your friend, Jolie. She brought me.”
“Did she?” Lana was going to have to have a conversation with her best friend about sending her text messages to warn her of impending things such as his arrival. So she could, at the very least, change into something cute. Instead of her sweatpants and tank top, which she had pulled out of the hamper and looked worn thin.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She put her hands on her hips and raised her chin. Lana wasn’t going to let his suddenly showing up throw her. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Well, obviously. I didn’t think you came to my apartment for any other reason. Are you in town? Wanted to touch base?”
He took a step toward her. “Your guard is up, and I can’t blame you.”
“What?” She wasn’t going to retreat although she wanted to. New York made her strong. Everyone who lived here had to learn to have a spine. She’d found hers again. He took another step.
She needed distance, space—a world’s worth. He was too present and she hadn’t been prepared to guard herself against him.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out her postcard. “I got your card.”
“Glad to see the mail system is working.”
“Lana.” He was close enough to touch her. “I
only found it yesterday.”
His words didn’t make any sense. The post office was slow but not monstrously low. “I sent it months ago.”
“I know. I saw the date on it. You sent it to the club. I haven’t been there for so long. I never got it.”
She’d never considered such a possibility. “Why not? Is something wrong with the club?”
“It’s running well. Making a profit. Some things still to sort out. No, the reason I don’t go is because every inch of it reminds me of you.”
“Oh.” Tears from months of hating life without him pushed out of her eyes before she could steel herself against them.
His thumb caught the stream and brushed the moisture off one of her cheeks. “You sent me a card, and I got on the next plane to New York.”
“With a ticket I hope, otherwise the FBI is going to show up here, and the arrest will be a big mess.”
He laughed, a loud song, that broke up some of the tension in the room. “Bought my ticket. It was all very legal.”
“Good.”
“I rushed here because your note told me there might be a chance.”
She reached out with shaky hands and put them on his chest. He wasn’t in a geeky shirt, instead coifed in a plain blue collared t-shirt. It really brought out his eyes. Before her stood a sophisticated version of the man she knew.
“Lana.” He breathed out her name. “Is there a shot?”
“Why didn’t you answer my text?” She couldn’t tell him they could be together. Not with so much left unsaid. “If you didn’t receive my mail you could have at least responded to my message.”
“I was afraid.”
“What?” Out of all the responses she’d expected, none had been the answer he gave her.
“I got your message and to answer it…” He squeezed her shoulders. “I wasn’t sure how to respond. How was I supposed to tell you the ache missing you created inside of me? How was I to manage the truth? And the longer I went without texting back…”