by Lily Paradis
My heart calmed when I felt him near me. It was like the strings that pulled us together tightened, and I lifted my head off the ground. He sat down next to me, closer to his old pal Denny than Maggie. He didn’t say anything. He just offered me one of the headphones he was holding. The other was already strung up in his ear.
I put it in the ear closest to him, and I let myself fall back against the cushion of soft earth. Florence was singing my favorite song, and I couldn’t help but hum along to the words. I looked over at Jesse when the song was ending, and his eyes were closed.
Silence buzzed around us.
“Replay it,” I said, telling, not asking.
“No.”
“Why not?”
He referred to the silence as he quoted the song and handed me a rock from his pocket.
“What’s the overflow?”
“I think you know.”
My heart clenched, and I felt like I might be sick because I did know. This was the first time either of us had acknowledged it.
He opened his eyes and looked over at me, and they told me we were thinking the same thing. The strings tightened one more time, and it felt like even more of them appeared, clawing at my stomach and my chest, pulling me inexorably toward Jesse to the point where it was painful.
“Happy birthday, Tate.”
With those words, my fate was sealed, and I got the dizzying sensation that as long as both of our hearts were still beating, I would never be free of him.
Now
I’LL LIKELY HAVE a heart attack in the next hour.
Cold, calculated Tate seems to have completely left my body, and I want her back. I want to clutch at the air pulling that part of my soul out and push it back into me, so I can survive dinner with Hayden.
We slip out of the car as Al holds the door, and he promises he’ll be back when we need him. I decide that even if I had Al, I would still take the subway, so I could see all the performers and rats. I like the subway. It never stops running, and it’s just dingy enough to show character.
Success—that’s all the people on the subway want. They want to be riding in cars like Hayden’s with drivers like Al, so they never have to swipe that godforsaken MetroCard ever again.
Hayden’s hand covers mine and pulls me into the restaurant. We’re immediately seated, and I’m glad he’s chosen someplace where our casual clothes fit the mix. I half-expected everyone to stare at Hayden over their chopsticks and wine glasses, but I am pleasantly surprised we aren’t the center of attention. New York has a brilliant atmosphere so unlike anywhere else in the world in that respect. If we were in Los Angeles, there would no doubt be paparazzi lined up along the glass windows, trying to snap us with their vile lenses. Here, everyone is too demure to be invasive.
He passes me a menu.
I put it down on the table and look him square in the eye. “I have to tell you something.”
“So, shoot.”
He intimidates me because all his attention is on me. People don’t do that nowadays. They multitask. They talk to you while they’re fidgeting with their napkin or reading the menu.
They give you half.
Hayden gives me whole.
“I’m allergic to shellfish.”
The corner of his lip goes up, but his eyes don’t leave mine.
“Really? A Southern girl who’s allergic to shellfish?” His words are dripping in something that sounds a lot like sarcasm, but they’re also laced with something darker.
I try to keep my composure. “Yes.”
A waitress comes by and does a double take when she sees Hayden, but she keeps her face neutral in line with my New York theory.
“Can I get you anything?” she asks, unable to take her eyes off of Hayden.
It’s understandable. She’s trying to be polite, but he’s essentially an American royal.
“Tell Tom I’ll take the usual,” he says. “Two actually.”
The waitress dips her head in acknowledgment and takes our menus.
“Actually, Meredith,” I say, reading her name tag, “I’ll take a seaweed salad.”
I release the menu from my fingers and shoot a look at Hayden. As she walks away, I observe her like any man would. She’s pretty. New York pretty I decide. There are hardly any blondes in New York.
“I’m calling your bluff.” Hayden has that look in his eyes that I’m fairly sure would seduce ninety-nine percent of the women in this city.
Meredith comes back with our food immediately.
“Rockefeller perk?” I ask.
He thanks Meredith and unwraps his chopsticks. “Rockefeller perk.”
He doesn’t look too hung up on the fact that this specific perk means that our sushi has arrived in record time.
“I’ll be right back with your salad,” Meredith tells me, but she’s looking at Hayden.
I roll my eyes because I know I’m being a brat. I don’t need that seaweed salad, but I let her get it anyway. I pull out my own chopsticks and take a bite of whatever this is that he’s ordered.
When I look up from my bite, he’s just staring at me.
“What?”
“You lied to me,” he says mock-seriously, putting together a bite of his own. “You lied to me on our first date. I’ll have to remember that.”
“This is a date?” My heart is in my throat, and I curse cold Tate for leaving me alone in this. I’m far less charming when I’m bratty.
“It’s a date to me.”
I try to think of something witty, so I take a sip of the white wine Meredith has just brought me without either of us ordering it.
“I’m sure you go on lots of dates.”
He takes another bite. “Not really.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I’m not the liar at this table.”
My seaweed salad shows up as if to mock me. Meredith slides my plate over to the side, so she can set it down, and I roll my eyes at Hayden, who can’t help but smile.
“I’m sorry,” I say. This must be a record. Tate McKenna doesn’t apologize. “I don’t want to feed your ego by telling you that you’re disarming.”
“But I am?” The inclination of a question in his voice surprises me.
He puts down the chopsticks and is simply staring at me. The stare goes too far. It makes me feel too many things. Not as far as Jesse, but it comes close.
“Yes.” I meet his gaze. “But I’m supposed to be disarming, not you.”
“Oh, Tate,” he says, picking up another bite with a laugh that tells me I’m in trouble. “You’re entirely disarming.”
Then
“I REALLY DON’T understand who this person is.”
Colin and I were in a boat on the lake near the Hale house. It was all very romance novelesque, but I was with Colin. He was rowing, and I was reading a book. At least, I was trying to, but Colin kept talking.
“Shut up, Colin. He saved your life, so you should probably be grateful.”
Colin adjusted his sunglasses and stopped rowing. I looked down over mine to see why he had stopped.
“I would have lived.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. I was on the verge of killing you.”
We were discussing the last time I’d seen Colin, which was the night he’d thought it was a great idea to drink and drive with me in the car. Now, I felt safer with him in a boat where we couldn’t crash into any trees or other solid objects. We could drown, but I’d cross that bridge if we came to it.
Colin didn’t seem to believe me about being murderous. “Oh, really? How would you kill me?”
I threw my book aside and sat up. “I probably would have strangled you. I wouldn’t have wanted to clean up the blood.”
“Smart choice. But you really should have smothered me. Strangulation leaves evidence.”
“Okay, CSI. I’ll remember that for when I actually do murder you.”
Colin started rowing again, and I could tell I was going to be a tomato after this.
Colin wouldn’t have a problem since he merely tanned, but I would burn regardless of SPF. I had Denny’s Irish blood for that.
Colin steered the boat toward shore and began his relentless tirade of hate for Jesse once again. “So, why was he driving alone on that deserted road in the middle of the night anyway? He’s probably a serial killer.”
I sighed. “He’s not a serial killer, Colin.”
“I kind of liked thinking he was a serial killer.”
“Of course you did. But you really should apologize.”
Colin scoffed. “Catherine said she doesn’t understand what’s going on with him either. You met him in a graveyard? What do you even know about him?”
“I know plenty,” I told him.
They had no idea of the past Jesse and I shared, and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up yet. I’d tell them eventually, if it got to that. I wasn’t sure if it would ever be relevant, considering Jesse had mysteriously stopped speaking to me again.
He was so hot and cold that I thought I’d get whiplash.
I picked my book up and threw it at Colin’s face, but he dodged it, and it ended up falling into the water. It floated there, but he didn’t reach out to save it, so my book became a sacrifice to the deep.
In reality, I didn’t know anything about Jesse anymore. He was a dark well of secrets, and my information was outdated.
“You know nothing.” On the contrary, Colin knew me too well. “Don’t go falling in love with someone like that.”
We reached the shore, and I jumped out before the boat could actually make contact. I hated the bump.
“I’m dating Casper. You owe me a book,” I said shortly, dropping Jesse like an anchor.
“Dating. I’m not sure what that even means with you two. I owe you nothing.”
Colin tied the boat to a nearby tree as I ran away from him as fast as I could. As I neared the house, I felt a familiar presence just before I saw a dark-headed figure laboring over a bed of Lara’s flowers.
I ran straight to him, like a heat-seeking missile. He looked up when I was in his line of sight as if he knew I was there before he could hear me. I knew he had Tate radar just like I had Jesse radar. I was panting by the time I reached him, and neither of us said anything. He just looked at me until he gazed behind me.
Colin.
I sat in the grass near Jesse while he continued working. He was mad at me because I was with Colin. Sure, he was dangerous and reckless beyond belief, but Colin was my best friend.
A few minutes later, I heard the telltale footsteps behind me, letting me know that Colin had arrived.
“Hey, mate,” Colin said to Jesse, trying to be faux posh.
I rolled my eyes as I blew on a dandelion, setting all the seeds free. I watched them all float away into the sky before turning my attention to Colin and Jesse.
Jesse looked in Colin’s direction but didn’t say anything.
“Your friend is an asshole, Tate.”
I stood up and shoved Colin for his remark. “You’re supposed to be thanking him for saving your damn life.”
“Oh, my mistake.”
Colin took a few steps toward Jesse, so he was in the way of Jesse’s work. “Thanks for saving my life. Not needed. Now, stay away from Tate.”
I felt Jesse’s anger and saw his hands go into fists at his sides.
“I could say the same to you, mate.”
Colin laughed and looked Jesse up and down. He gave Jesse the same treatment I was sure he’d been given his entire life. He would never bleed blue like we did.
“Go home, Colin.” The tone in my voice told both of them I wasn’t joking around.
Colin knew from experience, and Jesse could feel it.
Colin backed down and started walking backward, swinging his car keys around his fingers, literally flashing his status in Jesse’s face once again. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I narrowed my eyes at him until he finally turned his back and walked up the hill to the house. Jesse didn’t so much as look at me.
“Who are you, Jesse?” I asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“I’m an employee, Tate.”
“No, who are you? Where do you live? I’ve never been to your house.”
“I live down the road.”
“That’s vague. I’m trying to learn more about you.”
There was something wrong today. He wasn’t himself.
He turned to me, looking murderous. “I’m the help, Tate! Why do you care who I am?”
The look in his eyes broke my heart, and I started to step back. “Jesse, you’re scaring me.”
He wiped the sweat off his brow and threw his gloves on the ground. “I’ll never be your friend, Tate. I’ll never be Colin. I’ll never be Casper,” he whispered my boyfriend’s name as though it had barbs attached to it. It was like if he said it any louder, Casper would appear in front of us.
“I don’t want you to be them,” I admitted. “I just want you to be you.”
He took one step closer to me, his dark eyes flashing. “You don’t even know me.”
The first piece of my heart broke, thanks to Jesse Elliott.
Now
MY INDECISION REACHES its breaking point the second Hayden says I’m disarming.
“That’s a little too Christian Grey for me,” I say, abruptly standing up. I hit my leg on the corner of the table, and I’m sure it will bruise later.
This is my out, and I’m taking it. As fascinating as Hayden Rockefeller is, I can’t be with him. I came to this city to escape every feeling I’ve ever had about a man, not get sucked into his tidal wave.
As I storm out of the restaurant, I don’t bother to check over my shoulder to see if Hayden’s following me. I’m being entirely rude.
I can feel the tears stinging my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I didn’t even let them out when I boarded my plane from Charleston. I didn’t let them fall when I left Jesse. I can’t let them fall now. I can’t let them defeat me.
Each pounding step seems to take forever as if magnets are attached to my feet, making me drag them across the pavement instead of allowing me to put one foot in front of the other. I should not have done that to Hayden. He didn’t deserve it.
Still, he doesn’t come after me. I make it to the subway and wait in the disgustingly hot purgatory that is the train station for the thing that will carry me home—well, to Catherine’s apartment. I need to find my own. Maybe I shouldn’t live here after all. Everything reminds me of Hayden now, right down to the pieces of gum stuck to the underside of the bench I’m sitting on. Gum is persistent. So is Hayden.
I’ve broken him though with my outburst. He didn’t follow me down here. I’d be surprised if he’d ever swiped a MetroCard in his life. I thought I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but his was made out of diamonds.
When my train finally arrives to whisk me away, I see the only spot is next to a couple. They’re clearly in love.
I’d rather stand.
I can barely turn the key in the lock to Catherine’s apartment because my hands are shaking so badly.
She hears the struggle and opens the door from the other side. The second she sees my face, she knows. “What happened, Tate?”
I’m pulled into the whirlwind that is Catherine, and suddenly, we’re sitting on her bed.
“I’m so stupid,” I tell her, tears streaming down my face now, blocking my vision.
“You’re not stupid. You’re just an emotional vampire.”
“You’re not helping,” I wail.
I curl into a ball and face the window next to her bed, which causes her to climb over me.
“Tell me exactly what happened, so we can fix this.”
I tell her every last detail, and she stares at me for a moment.
“Stop judging me.”
“I’m not judging
you. I’m trying to figure out how to make this better.”
I sniffle, and she hands me a tissue.
“Do you like Hayden?”
I shrug. “I do, but you know this isn’t what I wanted.”
“Tate, you know I don’t understand your thing with Jesse. I never have. But if you want to at least try to make this work with Hayden or try to have any kind of a relationship with Hayden, you need to go explain it to him—tonight.”
“I can’t face him, C. I most definitely can’t tell him that I’m an emotional vampire because I’ve been bled dry by someone I’m trying to leave behind.”
She puts a hand on my face to wipe away the lines of mascara that I’m sure are running all over my face.
“You can though. I know Hayden pretty well, and I know he’d understand. He would rather hear this than get stood up in a restaurant after you compared him to that idiotic fictional heathen Christian Grey.”
“I guess it can’t get any worse than that.”
She laughs and sits up, pulling me with her. “No, it really can’t.” She uses both of her hands to wipe my face. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She rides the subway to Hayden’s apartment with me. It’s on Park Avenue. I can’t help but feel the nagging sense in my mind that this is a man Lara would completely approve of. Old Tate would go running in the other direction out of rebellion. New Tate needs to pull herself together and try to have a semblance of a life away from Charleston.
Away from Jesse.
I tell the doorman that I’m here to see Hayden, and he gives me a look that makes me feel like I’m not good enough. I’m not used to that reaction since I’m a Hale, and my heart sinks that this is what we put Jesse through every day of his life. No. No more Jesse. Only Hayden.
The doorman won’t let me up. He insists that Mr. Rockefeller shouldn’t be bothered at this time of night, and he won’t relent until Catherine calls Hayden’s phone.