“Fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”
“Better change,” Corbin pointed out. “Can’t go having breakfast in what you slept in now that you’re no longer a college student.”
“What?” Manning’s face fell. “You dropped out?”
“Graduated.” I straightened my shoulders as I glanced from him to Corbin and back. “Last Thursday.”
“But it’s December. Your Mom was planning on flying out for the ceremony next June.”
Since I’d made my decision to leave California right before fall, I’d missed the first semester at NYU and started in the spring instead. I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to handle school anyway on top of moving to such an overwhelming place with no money and a battered spirit. “I didn’t tell Mom,” I said. “I knew it would hurt her that I didn’t want any of you there. Not even her.”
“You had me and Val, though,” Corbin said. He came and threw an arm around me, turning to Manning. “Tell Cathy not to worry. I was there every step of the way.”
Manning and Corbin exchanged looks that could melt steel, which was my cue to duck out from under Corbin’s arm and into my bedroom to change clothes.
3
Manning
Corbin led us from Lake’s apartment to the restaurant where he and Lake had planned to have breakfast. I stayed a few steps behind them. When he put an arm around her shoulders, I had to refrain from stopping him. The urge to separate them hadn’t lessened since I’d last seen them together. Even at my own wedding, I’d watched Corbin like a hawk. The difference was he had her attention now, and I didn’t. What apparently remained the same was that I wanted her as fiercely today as I had back then.
Seeing how she lived, hearing what I’d missed, touching her, getting a taste of what I’d dreamed about, had nightmares about, had tortured myself over . . . it confirmed that coming to New York was the right decision.
I’d been a patient man. I’d been a good husband. I’d provided for Tiffany, and she’d helped me understand over the years I probably wasn’t destined to become my father. But there existed a divide between us that I hadn’t been able to cross while I still had feelings for Lake. When my parole had ended, I’d starting planning this trip, but even then, I’d fought myself. After what I’d put Lake through, it wasn’t fair to just show up. It’d killed me slowly, though, the not knowing—what she was like now, how she lived, who she loved.
I weaved through crowded city sidewalks, bounced off puffy coats, tripped over dog leashes, and sidestepped trash bags on every curb of Manhattan. The company had flown me out here for a week to work, but for months I’d been preparing myself to face Lake. In that time, I’d begun to realize—if I got here and had even the slightest doubt that Lake was better off without me, I’d be unable to walk away. I needed to let her go or make her mine for good. I couldn’t handle the in between anymore. She’d stumbled out of the cab this morning looking anything but perfect, and still, my mouth had watered for her. I’d remembered how hungry I was. No matter how close Tiffany and I had gotten, no matter if I’d been good for her and she for me, she’d never feed my deepest hunger. Not the way Lake could.
And while Tiffany slept in Egyptian cotton and liked to eat out three or four nights a week, Lake had next to nothing. The question was no longer whether I was good for her. It was how I’d atone for my mistakes, from earning her forgiveness to untangling myself from the life I’d built on the west coast.
Corbin took Lake’s hand. She glanced back at me. Lake wasn’t the wide-eyed girl I’d once known, begging for me to destroy her. She wasn’t pure as watermelon Chapstick on never-been-kissed lips. She wasn’t perfect anymore, she wasn’t young and naïve, and that meant I could act on all the things I’d fantasized about doing to her. And that was definitely a fucking problem considering I was still a married man.
In the restaurant, Corbin took Lake’s coat and scarf and went with the hostess to hang them up. It was a stupid thing to get jealous over, but I did. I leaned in to Lake and said, “Tell him to go. I need time alone with you.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing after Corbin. “I gave you enough time already.”
“Look at me,” I said.
Hesitantly, she shifted her eyes up as I dropped mine to her lips. I’d almost kissed her and now it was all I could think of. I’d never be this close to her again and not burn for it. To sink into her smell, feel her downy-soft hair against my cheek, tangled in my fingers, spread over my skin as she slept on my chest . . .
Up until this morning, all that had been an impossible fantasy. Maybe she’d thought our conversation in her apartment was the end of this, that I’d stay in New York this week and not see her again, but it wasn’t. All it’d done was make me realize that before I could even think of kissing her, I needed to earn her trust again. I needed to tell her what she still meant to me.
But as long as Corbin was around, I had a problem on my hands.
The hostess led us past a Christmas tree with winking multi-colored lights and tables of crayon-wielding kids to a blue vinyl booth. Corbin gestured for Lake to sit first. I would’ve had to push him aside to be next to her, so I was forced to take the seat across them.
I’d barely glanced at the menu before a waitress approached. “Morning, you two,” she said to them. “Want the usual?”
“Yeah, but bring Lake a Coke and hash browns, too.” Corbin passed the waitress his menu and his eyes over me. “She likes that when she’s hungover.”
“Corbin, don’t,” she said quickly. “I’m not hungover. I barely drank anything last night.”
She didn’t want me to think she had, anyway. I didn’t like hearing about it, either. I couldn’t really pretend she didn’t do those things—she had a new life here. She’d grown up. We were both different, but deep down, wasn’t she still the Lake I knew? Wasn’t I still the same man? Without that, who were we? While I looked forward to learning more about the girl sitting across from me, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the one I’d known just yet.
“So no hangover remedy?” the waitress asked.
Lake flicked her nail on the edge of her menu, biting her lip. “You can bring the hash browns.”
The waitress knew them, and Corbin knew Lake. What she liked to eat, at least, but I could learn that. Knowing mundane details wasn’t anything compared to reading her the way I did—it didn’t rival how she anticipated what I needed and when. Maybe Corbin thought he knew her, maybe she thought he did, but not like me.
I could’ve sat and watched Lake all day, but the waitress cleared her throat at me. “Do you need another minute?”
Lake took my menu away and gave it to the waitress. “He’ll have the number one. Add avocado.” As she said it, she avoided my eyes, color high in her cheeks. Well, that was all the evidence I needed. Food was an expression of her love. Ever since the day we’d met and she’d made me a monster sandwich, she’d liked to feed me, to watch me eat, to be the reason I was content.
Corbin leaned back in the booth, stretching his arm behind Lake. “How’s Tiffany?” he asked.
Reality cut through my adulation. If I could’ve, I’d have asked Corbin to leave. I wouldn’t put it past him to tell Tiffany he’d found me in Lake’s apartment, though. I didn’t want her to find out that way. Until I got my shit sorted, I’d have to play nice. “She’s fine.”
“And the family? Charles? Cathy?”
“Everyone’s good,” I said, trying to keep the irritation from my voice. “You know that. You were over for Thanksgiving.”
Lake turned in the seat to gape at him. “What?”
“I only stopped by to say hi,” he said to her. “They miss you. They want to know about you.”
Cathy was the only one who’d admit it. Lake’s dad went beet red at the mention of her name, and Tiffany had never been good at expressing her emotions, so she usually clammed up when it came to Lake. That didn’t mean they didn’t miss her, though. I knew they did.
&nb
sp; “How could you not tell me?” Lake asked.
“I knew you’d freak, and I was only there ten minutes.”
That was true. Since I’d already booked my trip to New York, and Tiffany had been acting strange about that, I’d disappeared to the backyard during Corbin’s visit. I didn’t want anyone thinking I cared to hear about Lake or the New York trip would be off for good. But after he’d left, all Cathy could talk about was how she’d had a feeling Lake and Corbin might be getting serious.
And if I hadn’t already had my plane ticket, that would’ve been enough to get me to buy one.
How serious was it, though? The waitress filled our coffee cups. Lake added a splash of cream and Corbin handed her two packets of sugar. The morning after her prom, four and a half years earlier, she’d wanted to drink coffee just because I did. Now, she looked like a regular caffeinator. While I ached for the old Lake, it was as if I were meeting a new side of her, and that was something I’d never thought I’d get.
“Is it your first time in New York?” Corbin asked, stirring his coffee, the spoon clink clink clinking against the sides.
“Yeah.”
“How do you like it?” he asked.
Fast-paced wasn’t my speed. I wasn’t sure how to feel about the city yet. It was dirty, cramped, and noisy. Orange County was paradise by comparison, and even that could sometimes get to be too much for me. Even though my time at Camp Young Cubs had ended in handcuffs, I sometimes wished to be back in Big Bear—that time had stopped the night Lake and I had sat under the stars. Before the arrest. Before any of this.
“He won’t like it here,” Lake answered for me, dropping her eyes to the buttons of my dress shirt. “I can’t picture it.” She didn’t like the suit. It didn’t align with how she saw me, and she looked different to me, too, so I understood. She was a little older, not as put together, and definitely not as trusting. That didn’t mean I didn’t want her as she was, though.
“I might. I’ve barely seen it,” I said to her, hoping she’d understand that I could accept this new life of hers. That I wanted to be part of it. “I only arrived late last night.”
“And Lake’s apartment was the first stop you made?” Corbin asked.
“I had something to give her.” I shifted my gaze to Lake. “And it’s time-sensitive.”
Corbin looked between us. “Well, what was it?” he asked her.
“When Cathy found out I was coming,” I said, “she asked me to check on Lake.” I took the Broadway tickets she’d given me from inside my suit jacket and showed them to Lake. “The show is tonight. Miss Saigon—”
She snatched them. “I told my mom I wanted to see this.”
“It’s too bad you can’t go since you work tonight,” Corbin said, his arm still behind her as he played with her hair. I’d just gotten that golden silk in my hands for the first time in years, and he’d been running his fingers through it all this time? Fuck him.
“Oh, yeah.” Her shoulders slumped as she set the tickets on the table. “I totally forgot.”
Corbin shifted against the vinyl, his lips thinning into a line. “You should’ve told me you wanted to go. I’ll take you another night,” he said to her while looking at me. “Lake and I have been to lots of shows. Cathy knows that.”
I took the tickets back. Lake’s disappointment was palpable, but I wasn’t going to push it in front of Corbin. I’d get her to the show, even if I had to reschedule for a different night next week. “Not a problem,” I said.
She sucked in a breath like she was going to protest, and then seemed to think better of it. “I’ll call my mom and thank her. It’s been a while since we spoke anyway.”
Now Lake wasn’t only disappointed, but sad, too. I was close to her family, and the gap between them was great for no good reason. Lake had to have missed her parents, just like they missed their daughter, but until either Charles or Lake swallowed their pride and made the first call, it would stay that way.
“She works so damn hard,” Corbin said, pulling her into his side. “This one has two jobs on top of her auditions, not to mention she was in class several hours a week up until recently. She loves staying busy, but she deserves a break.”
I kept my eyes on Lake. All I heard was Corbin speaking for her the same way her dad had. I’d once wondered if this prick was better for Lake than I would be, but if he treated her anything like Charles had, then I wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt stealing her out from under him.
“I don’t work any harder than you,” she said to Corbin.
I turned my attention to him, seeing an opening to learn more about the person I’d be going up against. “What do you do?” I asked him.
“Finance.”
“What’s that mean?” I got bits and pieces about Lake from Cathy, but out of self-preservation, I’d sometimes tuned out specifics when it came to Corbin.
“Since I graduated last year, I’ve been an investment analyst at a hedge fund. I shadow a portfolio manager—”
“I see.” I didn’t see. As it turned out, I didn’t care. I’d already decided Lake could do better. “What’s a hedge fund?”
“Oh, okay.” Corbin sighed. “Let me back up. Basically, my boss manages capital—that’s money—pooled by these investors who, like, they’re big time . . .”
Lake noticed me staring at her and blushed. God, it felt good to be back in her presence. To have put my arms around her and been close enough to practically taste her breath. It was like the first lick of what could be a never-ending cone of my favorite ice cream. She might’ve told me to stop because she was fighting herself—and me. She had every right to. I wanted her to give in, but I needed her to be sure about us before anything happened, because once I started down this path, I wouldn’t be able to turn back.
When I realized Corbin had stopped talking, I asked Lake, “And what do you do? I know you were enrolled in Tisch, the art school, and that’s about it,” I said. “Your parents don’t even know what line of work you’re in.”
“Line of work?” she asked, failing to suppress a laugh. “I work part-time at an animal shelter for minimum wage.”
That didn’t surprise me. Lake had a scar on her arm from trying to extract a scared kitten from a bush, and though I didn’t really see the connection between acting and animals, at least it suited her. “That sounds all right,” I said.
“And the other part of the time, she works the graveyard at this twenty-four-hour Ukrainian diner,” Corbin added.
“Corbin,” Lake muttered under her breath.
It took a moment for that to register. I hadn’t thought her situation could get any worse, but I was wrong. By the way she looked at her lap, Corbin wasn’t kidding, and Lake knew how I’d feel about this. “The graveyard?” I asked, my voice bouncing off the booth.
Lake chewed on her thumbnail. “That’s what we in the industry call the nightshift . . .”
“I know what the goddamn graveyard means.” I took a soothing breath to keep from exploding like her dad, because that had sent her thousands of miles away. “How did this happen?” I asked.
“Well, typically you fill out an application, have an interview with the manager, and—”
“Lake.” I leaned my elbows on the table, leveling her with a glare that made her sigh.
“It’s not that bad,” she said. “It’s only a few avenues from my apartment, so I can walk there.”
“You walk,” I deadpanned. “In the middle of the night?”
“I met her after work the first few times,” Corbin said, “but it’s tough because I’m sometimes pulling twelve-hour days. Good thing I figured out pretty quickly that she’s tougher than she looks.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Lake said. “I don’t work because it’s convenient. I do it to pay my rent and loans. That’s all there is to it. End of discussion.”
“See what I mean?” Corbin winked at me. “I’ve got an eye on her, though,” he said before leaning in to whispe
r in her ear.
He had an eye on her. He was staking his claim, and not just with his arm on her shoulder. By the ease of their intimacy, it was clear they’d been together awhile. Maybe since the wedding, even. He’d seen her through the hard times I’d caused, taken her to shows, walked her home from work in the middle of the night . . .
Made love to her.
My stomach churned. I’d never so much as kissed Lake, but I knew one night with her would change everything—it was the reason we’d never had that one night. Was Corbin to Lake what Tiffany was to me? A safe kind of intimacy? Or did he give her more?
Did he give her as much as I could?
The idea of it felt so wrong that my throat closed, and my scalp heated. I wanted to reach across the table and pull him off her. I had to talk myself down before I made a mistake. Maybe she’d needed to get him out of her system to know it wasn’t meant to be. I knew Lake would never wonder about another man if she had me, but maybe she didn’t know that. She didn’t think I was coming back for her. How could she? I hadn’t known I would until recently. As much as I’d fought it, as wrong as I knew it was, I still loved her. As I’d looked around that shitty apartment, I’d seen all the ways I’d fucked up. From day one, I’d wanted the best for her, and if this was it, I knew I could do better. The longer I was in her presence, the more certain I was I had only one option left—tilt the universe until she fell into my arms.
Lake shook her head at her lap in response to whatever Corbin had whispered to her. “No, it’s okay. It’s fine.”
Corbin wanted me out, too. He was right to. Rationalize as I did, I still couldn’t help the flush of heat working its way up my chest as Corbin said something else to make her smile. His fingers drummed against her shoulder. Their relationship was my fault. I had no right to get angry, but I was. I wanted to send him packing but not before I knocked him cold for getting parts of Lake I didn’t even have the pleasure of knowing about. Yet.
The waitress rescued me, dropping our food at the table and forcing Corbin to remove his arm from Lake.
Move the Stars: Something in the Way, 3 Page 4