by Lisa Lace
“Not anymore.”
“Whose name is it on the door, Ethan? This is Steele Industries. You built this company from the ground up. None of them would be here without you. This will be a hard blow for them, but they know you’re good at what you do, and you’ve always taken care of your staff. They’ll be disappointed, but everybody loves working here. This will pass.”
I nod, although I’m not convinced. I’ve let down my employees today.
Three weeks later, I walk into the lobby of my headquarters. Heads turn and conversations fall silent as I pass. I hear whispers.
Ever since news of the loss of the defense contract spread, people have been filling in the gaps with their imagination. Terminal illness. Mental breakdown. It doesn’t help that I’ve been absent from work a lot lately.
I go to my office. When I arrive, Jennifer’s waiting at her desk outside my door. She looks surprised to see me, stands, and follows me in. “Ethan! You’re in today. We haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“I told you on the phone, Jen, I’m stepping back a little.”
“Is that paint on your neck?”
I rub at the mark and sit down behind my desk.
Jennifer continues. “Are you a painter now? Jesus, Ethan, people have been asking where you are, and I don’t know what to tell them. I’ve got the press hounding me night and day. People are talking.”
“I told you there’d be rumors.”
“I can handle rumors, but I need a direction to spin the press. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you so you can tell me what you want me to say.”
“Tell them Ethan Steele is taking a sabbatical.”
“A sabbatical, hmm?” Jennifer sits on the other side of my desk, then leans forward on her elbows. “People think you had a breakdown, you know that? They’re talking about how you threw the defense contract and then haven’t come to work. People need to see you around here, or they’re going to lose faith in you.”
Jennifer reaches out and takes hold of my wrist, her eyes full of concern. “This isn’t like you, Ethan. Please tell me everything’s okay.”
“Everything is fine.”
She sits back. “Have you heard from Lily?”
“No.”
“Are you going to reach out to her?”
“I already have.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I sent her a gift.”
Jennifer’s face falls. “I thought you said she’s not the sort of girl to go for expensive gifts.”
“It’s not that kind of gift. It’s something personal. From the heart.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, then.”
“Thanks, Jennifer.”
I wanted to reach out to Lily sooner, but it took me a month to finish the portrait. When I returned to New York after Lily told me to leave, I didn’t know how I was ever going to make things right, or if I would ever see her again. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the barely-begun canvas that I’d brought back with me from Arizona.
Paintbrush in hand, I started to bring Lily back to life. The girl I knew. The one I loved. I knew I had to finish it.
I’d spent hours hunched over the easel, putting oil to canvas. It had been so hard to break the news that we’d lost the defense contract to my team, and even harder to lose Lily all over again. When I had the brush in my hand, I could escape my thoughts and return to her.
A month had passed, but it was done, and I’d sent it to Lily. I’d thought about writing a letter to go with it, but I couldn’t find the words. I hoped that the painting would be enough to show her that she has always been with me.
“What will you do if the gift doesn’t work?” Jennifer asks me.
I don’t reply.
Jennifer leans forward, her expression tense. “I know you love her, Ethan, but this company needs you. If things don’t work out with Lily, please promise you’ll still come back to us.”
“I won’t let this company fall to pieces, Jen,” I say. “I’m thinking of making some changes.”
“Like what?”
“Stepping back a little. Letting you and Mitchell take the reins a bit more. The team is full of smart, talented people. I think maybe it’s time I let you spread your wings.”
“What are you talking about, Ethan?”
“Time back in Arizona has reminded me what really matters. I’m making money here, and I’m in the papers, but it’s all empty without someone to share it with. Lily said she didn’t recognize me anymore, and I feel like I don’t know myself these days, either.”
A half-smile plays on Jen’s face. “She said you used to be fun.”
“Hard to imagine, right?”
Jennifer sighs and sits back. “I don’t blame you if that’s what you want to do. I’ll help you put things in place. But promise me you won’t isolate yourself if you’re not with Lily. You’re too young for a mid-life crisis.”
I laugh. “I’m going to be fine, Jen. I guess this whole thing with Vincent and Lily has just put things into perspective for me. The life I’ve built here is great, but it’s not enough anymore. I want her. If I can’t have Lily, I at least want to be myself—someone more like I used to be. I’m not sure how I’m going to work it out yet, but I want to find the balance.”
I think of Lily. She should have received the portrait by now. I wonder if she’s opened it.
The portrait was my final gesture, the last thing I’ll do to try and win her back. I thought it would remind her of who I used to be, and let her see I’m still the same person, no matter what stupid mistakes I’ve made.
If it doesn’t work, then I’ll let her be. I’ll let that choice be hers. But I won’t go on living the way I have been. I’ll keep a little bit of Lily with me—always.
Lily
The cab takes me from the airport and drops me off in the heart of New York City. I step out of the car and look around in awe.
Everything is tall, fast, and alive with color. There are more people in one place than I’ve ever seen before. They move in large crowds, like flocks of birds. It seems like everybody has somewhere to be. There’s an energy to the place, and I’m pulled in by the force. I’m standing still, but I feel like I should be moving. New Yorkers crush around me, brushing past.
It’s brighter here than I thought it would be. I’d imagined skyscrapers so tall and daunting that they blocked out the sun, but instead, the sun catches the hundreds of windows and is reflected back, making me squint at all the lights in the sky.
There are so many sounds. Footsteps, car horns blaring, talking, laughing, advertisers shouting out. I can smell the cinnamon buns from the bakery across the street and the scent of fuel and rubber rising from the subway entrance nearby.
I’m at the center of the whole world.
In fact, I’m standing right in front of the headquarters of Steele Industries. It’s a huge building, not as tall as some of the skyscrapers around, but still monumental compared to the buildings back in Arizona. I wonder how many stories a building like that has.
I can’t believe I’ve come here all alone. Chloe wanted to accompany me, but I told her this was something I should do by myself. I’m too scared to jaywalk on these roads, so I wait at the crossing until it’s safe to go. The crowd sweeps me along like a wave, breaking at the entrance of Ethan’s headquarters.
Stepping inside, I look up and around with my mouth hanging open. It’s an amazing building, with high ceilings and two staircases that spiral off on either side of the lobby. There’s a reception desk to the left and a security booth to the right. The floors are marble, and there’s a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the center of the lobby. It looks like the foyer of some grand hotel.
I go to the reception desk, gripping the strap of my purse anxiously. I’m out of place here.
The receptionist is a bright-eyed woman with a brilliant smile. “Good morning, ma’am. How c
an I help you today?”
“I’m here to see Ethan. Ethan Steele.” I give his surname as if I could be talking about anyone other than the man who owns everything I see around me. I still can’t believe it. Ethan created all this?
The receptionist smiles. “Of course! Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I don’t.”
Her smile falters. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but meetings with Mr. Steele are by appointment only.”
“Can I make an appointment?”
“Appointments can be made through Mr. Steele’s assistant, Jennifer.”
“Great. Can I have her number?”
“Sure.”
The receptionist scribbles Jennifer’s number on a card. I walk away from the desk and pull out my cell in the middle of the lobby. I dial, but I get put on hold. I wait a few minutes and try again.
After the third attempt, I don’t want to keep trying. I’ve come all the way to New York to see Ethan, and he’s nowhere to be found.
Looking around, I subtly edge toward the staircase on the right. The security guard sees me glancing around and beckons to me. “Ma’am, you can’t go up there.”
“I’m looking for a bathroom.”
He points toward the women’s restrooms on the ground floor.
“Oh, thank you.”
I start heading toward the door, but as soon as the security guard turns away, I dash back to the stairs and begin racing up the steps. I hear him shouting after me.
I get to the top of the staircase and don’t know where to turn. Men and women in business suits are staring at me in my jeans and cardigan. The guard is racing up the stairs behind me.
Picking left, I begin to run. There’s another security guard ahead. The one behind me calls out. “Stop her!”
I keep running, looking over my shoulder at the security guard behind, and end up running straight into one of the businessmen in his fancy suit. I hit him full force and don’t land on the floor only because he holds me up.
I hear a voice. “It’s okay. She’s with me.”
Looking up, I see that I’ve run straight into Ethan’s arms. He looks sharp. He’s wearing a suit jacket and crisp pressed pants, but the collar of his white shirt is open. He hasn’t cut his hair since I last saw him, and it’s starting to wave. He looks more casual and less serious than a month ago.
“Ethan!”
He smiles, and his eyes light up. “Lily. You’re here.”
“I got the painting.”
“Let’s talk.” Ethan puts his arm around me and leads me down the hall upstairs. Everyone looks as we pass by. People whisper.
He sees me looking at the people watching us and chuckles. “I haven’t been myself lately, and they’re wondering why.”
I look at him with concern. “You haven’t been yourself?”
“Of course not, Lily. I missed you.”
We arrive at Ethan’s office. Jennifer is sitting at a desk outside, her desk phone glued to her ear. She looks astonished to see me, then breaks out into a grin. She holds the phone over her chest a moment and whispers, “I’ll hold your calls!”
Ethan and I enter his office. He shuts the door, then turns to me. “I can’t believe you’re here. Did you come all the way to New York on your own?”
I nod. “I needed to see you.”
I step closer to him. He reaches out, taking hold of my arms. He’s staring at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
I stare into his ivy green eyes, imagining them staring at a canvas. “The painting was incredible, Ethan. I didn’t know you still painted.”
“I don’t. But it was the one image I could never get out of my mind.”
My heart flutters. Through all of my drama with Ethan, my one fear has been that his love for me isn’t real, or not strong enough for what lies ahead. It was always Ethan who left.
When I saw the painting, I knew. I knew he hadn’t come back only because of Vincent or a business deal. I knew he had always been thinking of me.
“What does it mean?” I ask him.
“It means I know what a fool I’ve been. I know that I made you feel used. I know that I kept going on and on about Vincent and New York and all these other things, and I never took the time to tell you I’ve thought about you since the day I left and without you, life has not been the same.
“I miss you, Lily. Before Vincent, before any of this, there was a hole in my life. I miss your smile and your eyes. I miss the reckless, crazy things you do, and how you laugh the whole time you’re doing them. I miss your big dreams, and how they always gave me hope that things could change. I miss your sweetness, your kindness. I miss everything about you, Lily Miller. I always have.
“I should never have left you, and when I came back, I should have done everything in my power to make you realize what you mean to me. If I could go back, I’d do everything differently. I would find a way to make you see you’re everything to me.
“I’m sorry for what happened, and the way I behaved. I love you.”
I let the tears fall from my eyes in streams. I look Ethan in the eyes as he speaks, and I know every word is true. “I love you too,” I say.
Ethan smiles. He pulls me toward him and kisses me deeply. I sink into his arms, my palms resting on his jaw, my knees growing weak. “Let’s make this happen, Lily. I want you more than I want anything else in this world. If you want me to close down Steele Industries tomorrow and move back to Arizona, I’ll do it. I should never have left in the first place.”
I laugh and shake my head. “That’s not what I want.”
“What do you want?”
I give a little shrug. “Show me New York.”
“You want to see the city?”
“Yes. Show me your world.”
He shows me everything. The Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Brooklyn Bridge. My favorite place is Central Park. I didn’t expect it to be this vast and green. It doesn’t feel like I’m in a congested city at all. I can imagine myself sitting here and painting the trees, the high-rise skyscrapers looming in the distance. It’s its own kind of beautiful.
All day long, I’m laughing.
Ethan is full of energy, holding my hand and pulling me from place to place, dipping underground to the subway, and running across busy streets to this site and that. We eat at his favorite bistro; we stop for coffee at his favorite café.
It opens my eyes to who Ethan is here. I could never have imagined him living in the city. My Ethan was always free. But as we held onto each other among the New York throngs, finding our way together through a never-ending city, I realize it is only the location that has changed—Ethan is the same.
“The great thing about New York,” he tells me, “is that anything can happen. You can go anywhere, do anything, be anyone. Payson is beautiful, but it’s enclosed. Here, it feels like there are no limits.”
As I listen to him, my eyes are opening. As much as I like to think I’m adventurous and free-spirited, I’ve been living a closed-minded life in my tiny corner of the world.
The afternoon melts into a lazy sunset. The golden glow of the setting sun casts a haze across New York. We go to New York Harbor, looking out over Liberty Island and the silhouette of the Statue of Liberty standing tall.
Ethan buys me a hot dog from a stand, another reminder he hasn’t changed that much. I think of Vincent and all the luxury and grandeur in every gesture. I’d allowed myself to be caught up in fine art and yachts, and missed all his ulterior motives.
Ethan doesn’t hide behind his money. His gestures are perfect, ordinary treats and paintings done by hand. For a long time, I’ve held his mistakes over his head, and only seen everything he’s done wrong. But tonight, I realize he’s the most genuine person I know. I believe, more than anything, that he loves me.
I let my head fall against his shoulder. His arm is around me, and we stand, looking out over the statue. Ethan takes a bite of his hot dog, and a glob of mustard falls onto his lapel.
I lick it off, and he laughs, his eyes sparkling. “That’s what I love about you, Lily.”
“What?”
“No airs and graces. You’re just a girl licking mustard off my jacket.”
I laugh and wrap my arms around him. He pulls me tight, holds me close. He’s strong, firm, and warm. I can feel how much he cares in how tightly he holds on.
“I like New York.”
He smiles. “You do?”
“Yeah. You’re right, it does inspire me.”
“I’m glad. I’m not expecting anything from you, though, Lily. I’m not taking anything for granted. I’ll still come to Arizona if that’s what you want.”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve been hiding there my whole life. Maybe it’s my turn to change. I want to move to New York. I want to be with you.”
Lily
It’s not the first time I’ve seen Ethan’s penthouse, but it’s the first time I’ve looked around at its marble walls and luscious décor and known that it’s my home.
All my things are in boxes in the living area. There’s not much, and they look so scruffy against all the polished glass and fine leather. It was a nightmare to get them to the top floor, but Ethan’s moving crew did most of the work.
Ethan comes to me and pulls me into his arms. We sway slightly. He kisses my forehead, a wide grin growing on his face. “This is it, Lily.”
I take a deep breath. “This is it.”
I can hardly believe it. I stroll from room to room, trailing my fingers against the wall and across all the expensive objects, trying to make it seem real.
Ethan stands behind me. “When all your things are unpacked, it’ll seem like home.”
I smile at him over my shoulder, then run to one particular box—a cat carrier. I open the wire door, and Biscuit runs out with a little mewl. I grin. “Now it feels like home.”
Ethan laughs. “You’re right. The décor has always been missing clumps of ginger fur.”
Turning to him, I take his face in both my hands and kiss him. “Thank you for making this happen.”