by Maggie Riley
So, I knew New York through the lens of people like my parents. But I also knew it through Gertie and Sylvia’s eyes. Where we found art and excitement everywhere we looked. The New York that was dirty and fast and exhilarating. But it was the New York that not everyone was interested in.
“What kind of stuff are you interested in seeing?” I asked Josh. “There’s the Statue of Liberty or The Met or Times Square,” I offered, even though I winced at the last one. If he wanted to go to Times Square I’d brave the crowds and people dressed up in cartoon knock-off furry suits, but for the most part, I tended to avoid that part of town.
Josh shook his head.
“Not Times Square,” he said and I breathed a sigh of relief. “And I’m sure the Statue of Liberty and The Met are great, but I can see those on my own. If you’re going to show me around the city, I want to see your favorite things.”
I practically swooned.
“I should warn you,” I told him as we headed out of his building. “A lot of my favorite New York things involve food.”
“That doesn’t sound like a warning.” He put on a pair of sunglasses, hiding his gorgeous brown eyes. But still, I could feel them watching me, and the smile that curved his lips made my pulse jump. “That sounds like a promise. Lead the way.”
I took him all over New York. We went to the Tenement Museum, getting a tour from one of the many excellent docents wearing period appropriate garb. We went to Union Square and watched some of the buskers, stopping by Bread to get some chocolate babka. We went to the Strand and got lost in the stacks for a few hours. Then we got a few slices of true New York pizza from three different pizza places. We closed out our day in my neighborhood, getting a cone from Big Gay Ice Cream and walking through the village.
“How are you not full?” Josh asked, his eyes wide as I devoured The Salty Pimp—a mountain of a cone dipped in chocolate with dulce de leche throughout.
“All the walking,” I told him. We hadn’t taken a cab all day—on my orders. “New Yorkers walk. That’s why we’re all so beautiful.”
“Is that the reason?” he asked, giving me such a thorough once-over that it made me blush.
I nodded, patting his arm. “Don’t worry, it will do the same for you eventually.”
“Thank goodness,” he said, tossing the rest of his ice cream, a twinkle in his eye.
I could have stared at him all day. He was so gorgeous. But not just that, I felt gorgeous too, just from the looks he gave me. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, the two of us falling into step as if it was the most natural thing to do.
Then I felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, and without meaning to, I looked over his shoulder at the screen. Kelly, it said. Josh swore and clicked ignore. I tried not to mind the fact that another woman was calling him. One that he clearly didn’t want to talk to while I was here. It wasn’t any of my business, even though a small voice in the back of my head whispered that I needed to be careful. That all this was moving very quickly. That I needed to protect myself.
But I had spent years protecting myself. I wanted to be with Josh. And maybe it would all blow up in my face, but the past twenty-four hours had been some of the best I’d had in a long time and that was worth potential, eventual heartache. Or so I tried to convince myself. There was no joy without pain. No good without bad. That was my motto and I needed to keep reminding myself of it.
“What is your schedule for the rest of the week?” asked Josh as we reached my apartment.
Part of me was disappointed that he didn’t want to come up, but I reminded myself that we had just spent the entire day and the previous night together. If I had worried things were moving too quickly, spending the night with him again would definitely magnify that feeling.
“I have a meeting at the theatre tomorrow,” I told him. “But my afternoon is free.” I frowned, thinking about my schedule for the next month. “Things will be pretty busy after that. We start rehearsals and opening night isn’t that far off. Lots of late nights.”
“Let me take you out tomorrow afternoon,” he said, his hand on my arm, his arm around my waist. “And I’ll research the best late night restaurants for when your days start running long. I remember hearing something about this city. Something about it never sleeping?”
I poked him playfully in the arm, secretly touched that he didn’t seem intimidated by my schedule. Then again, he probably had a good idea how busy theatre life could get, especially with Allie as a sister.
“That would be nice,” I said. “What are we going to be doing tomorrow?”
He kissed my nose. “Let me take care of that,” he said. “Just be ready to scream.”
I had a hard time not thinking about Josh—no matter what I did, everything seemed to remind me of him. In a good way. I couldn’t even look at my bed without remembering holding onto my footboard as he knelt in front of me, his hands sliding my panties down my hips.
I left my apartment feeling as if I was bursting with happiness. As if I might just explode in the middle of New York, showering everyone with my good feelings. I wanted to hug everyone I saw. Wanted to dance, to sing, even though I really couldn’t dance or sing to save my life.
When I got to the theatre, I checked the office to make sure Joanna wasn’t there. Technically, this was the last weekend we’d have off until the production closed, but that didn’t mean that Joanna wasn’t working today. Luckily, she wasn’t there.
I knew it wasn’t the best idea to have Lincoln meet me here again, but since we were going to be talking about the theatre, I thought it would be best to be able to go look at it if we needed to. The whole thing was a risky endeavor and I knew I was going to have to tell Joanna sooner or later, but I wanted something more concrete before I did. Something that would be harder for her to say no to.
I felt a twinge of guilt about the whole thing, but I told myself that it was for the greater good. Not just for the theatre, but maybe for Joanna too. She couldn’t avoid Lincoln forever. It wasn’t usually my style to get involved in a friend’s personal life, but seeing Lincoln again had reminded me of how Joanna used to be. Happy. She had been happy once. And she deserved to feel that way again. But I had a feeling the only way she’d be able to get there would be if she got some closure on everything that had happened. Which meant involving Lincoln.
So my motivations were half selfish, half thoughtful. Not that Joanna would care when she found out. I needed to find the right time to tell her. Preferably when there was a crowd of people or a big brick wall between us, because she would definitely try to murder me and I would need to get a head start. She could move pretty fast on her heels if she wanted.
I met Lincoln outside just after ten. He wasn’t wearing a suit like last time, but he always looked put together even when he was wearing jeans and a button down like he was now. Apparently, Joanna and him had found a similar way to cope—showing their status and money in their clothes and using them as a protective shield. I could remember both of them in torn jeans and old t-shirts, the three of us sneaking out after curfew and breaking into the auditorium where we’d drink cheap, warm beer and read Shakespeare to each other.
The theatre had never been Lincoln’s passion, but it was Joanna’s and a long time ago, Joanna had been Lincoln’s passion. He would have done anything for her. Still would, I bet.
“You’ve been busy,” I noted as he pulled out spreadsheets and paperwork.
He nodded. “I’ve found this is a lot more fun than the work I do for my father.”
Lincoln taking a job at his father’s company had been one of the many cracks that had formed in his and Joanna’s relationship. But I still maintained that they could have made it work if their parents hadn’t gotten involved in the way they had.
“So this is a brand new foundation,” I said, looking over his notes.
“My brain child,” he told me. “And I have to say, I was really inspired by you.”
My eye
brows went up. “Me?”
“And Joanna. When I found out about The Hole in the Wall, I remembered how both of you had always said you’d find a way to follow through on your dreams. When I saw that you had, I realized I didn’t really have anything in my life that had made me as happy or as motivated as the theatre had made the two of you.”
“Oh Lincoln,” I put my hand on his arm. “That’s very sad.”
“Don’t cry for me, Argentina,” he joked. “No one can pity a poor little rich boy. And they shouldn’t. But I saw what you and Joanna had been willing to risk to make this happen. So I figured I needed to start thinking about the kind of thing that would motivate me half as much as this motivated you guys.”
“And this was the result?”
He nodded. “Not a bad use of my trust fund, I think.”
“Not bad at all,” I agreed, looking at his plans for an extensive afterschool mentorship program for inner city schools.
“How are your parents?” Lincoln asked.
I shrugged. “They didn’t want this for me. And I didn’t want to live without it.”
He nodded. “I know they were tough on you.”
Lincoln was one of the few people who knew firsthand how hard I had tried to please my parents. High school had been ground zero for most of the arguments we had, though I hadn’t officially separated myself from them until after we graduated. After Lincoln was no longer around.
“I talk to them occasionally.” I felt that familiar wave of guilt that always seemed to seep in when I thought of them. Guilt that I wasn’t able to be the daughter they wanted. “This seems to be the arrangement that works best for all of us.”
“Understood,” said Lincoln, clearly picking up on my desire to not discuss this further. “So, let’s talk about how I think The Hole in the Wall can get involved in the foundation.”
Chapter 25
JOSH
My first solo attempt to be a “real” New Yorker ended up biting me in the ass. On the map, the subway system looked fairly straight-forward. It was when I was standing on the platform, trying to figure out which train I wanted to catch, that I felt exactly like the small town guy I actually was. It seemed like such a pain in the ass when a taxi would have been so much faster, but Reagan kept insisting that I would love it once I got the hang of it. I didn’t really see the appeal, but I knew that it would impress Reagan if I did it and well, I was starting to realize that I would do a hell of a lot more than brave un-air conditioned subway cars on a hot spring day to impress her.
Thankfully, after three wrong trains, a nice lady from Hoboken got me to where I had intended to be twenty minutes ago. I hated being late and especially hated being late to pick up Reagan. I didn’t like the idea of her waiting for me alone.
Except when I got to the theatre, she wasn’t alone. She was standing in the lobby with the same guy I had seen the first time I had stopped by. It was a little bit of a déjà vu, only I didn’t get that same rush of jealousy and insecurity. Mainly because of the way Reagan’s face lit up when she saw me. The sun. She really was like the sun, illuminating me when I had been stuck in the shadows for so long.
“Josh!” She gave me a big wave as I came into the building.
The man standing next to her—Lincoln, if I remembered correctly—had his arms crossed and was looking down at Reagan with a bemused smile on his face. I didn’t blame him—she gave me the kind of greeting a war hero would get. I loved it.
“Hi there.” I bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek, not sure how comfortable she felt about public displays of affection.
I had never been a fan of them, but the way Reagan’s cheeks went red, I was sorely tempted to haul her into my arms and kiss the daylights out of her. Just to see how cute and flustered she would get.
“You remember Lincoln, don’t you?”
“Good to see you again,” I said, holding out my hand, this time not tempted to crush his knuckles.
“Likewise,” he said.
“Lincoln stopped by with a proposition.” Reagan’s eyes were sparkling with excitement.
“A proposition?” I repeated, tensing.
“A business proposition,” Lincoln clarified. “From one friend to another.”
He put a clear emphasis on friend, only reaffirming the friendly vibes I was getting from him. I relaxed, telling myself not to be such a jackass.
“Lincoln heads up a charity that works with afterschool programs,” Reagan told me. “And he wants The Hole in the Wall to be a part of it.”
“We’re in desperate need of people who are willing to work with at risk teens, helping them find outlets for their creativity and energy,” said Lincoln.
“It sounds like such a wonderful program,” Reagan gushed.
“It does,” I said, meaning it.
The Storm Chasers had done a lot of charity work in the community and it was definitely one of the things I had enjoyed participating in. Especially stuff involving kids. I couldn’t help the envy I felt at how much Reagan clearly admired what Lincoln was doing. And it was admirable.
“Do you have sports programs, too?” Reagan asked, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. I was about to tell her not to bother when Lincoln answered.
“We do,” he said. “They’re in need of mentors as well.”
“Hmm,” said Reagan, shooting me an expectant look.
I felt strangely shy, and said nothing. Hard to imagine that anyone had any use for a washed-up pitcher with a fucked up arm and a bad attitude that was only recently improving.
“Josh played for the minor leagues,” she told Lincoln. “He recently retired.”
It was amazing how she could make it sound like I had chosen to stop playing baseball. But then Reagan was practiced in seeing the silver lining. All part of her positive life philosophy. One that I was hoping to subscribe to.
“He would make a great coach,” said Reagan.
Coaching? Me? The thought had never crossed my mind. I was a player, not a coach. They were totally different skills and I had never been known for my patience on the field. But now I could see that Lincoln was watching me with newfound interest.
“Let me give you my card,” said Lincoln, handing one to me. “If you have any free time, give me a call. We’d love to have someone of your experience and expertise.”
I pocketed the card, not knowing if I’d call him. Then I looked over at Reagan and she was beaming so brightly that I knew I would be calling Lincoln, if only to make her smile.
Lincoln gave Reagan a long hug. “Let me know what you think about the program. It would be great to work with you.” He paused. “And with Joanna. If she’s willing.”
And just like that, any lingering jealousy was gone. It was abundantly clear from the misery and longing on Lincoln’s face that the only member of The Hole in the Wall company that he was interested in was a certain icy cold blonde. And my heart went out to him for that. Did he know he was barking up the wrong tree with her?
“I’ll try,” said Reagan. “But I don’t know if you should hold out for that.”
“Yeah.” Lincoln turned to me, his expression once again pleasant and professional. “It was great to meet you, Josh,” he said. “Please call me if you’re interested.”
“Thanks.” I shook his hand again.
Then Lincoln headed out, leaving us alone in the lobby. And me eager to give Reagan a proper hello.
REAGAN
Josh looked so good—once again seeming to take up all the space around him, commanding the room. The green t-shirt he wore was stretched tight across his broad shoulders and his jeans were slung low on his hips, but fit snug around his muscular thighs. Thighs I could remember pressing up against mine. He was wearing a baseball cap, which cast his face into shadows, giving him a dangerous, sexy air.
“Hi,” he said again, looping an arm around my waist, pulling me closer.
“Hi,” I tried, but it came out all breathy.
Josh grinned, a
nd before I could blink, he was kissing me as if he hadn’t seen me in days. In months. I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him back, loving the way he groaned when I pressed against him. Loving how I could feel how much he wanted me, the hard, long proof of it against my stomach.
“Wow,” I managed when we broke apart.
“Wow indeed,” he said, staring at my lips as if he wanted to kiss me again. As if he wanted to do more. But then he blinked and gave his head a shake as if to clear it. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he told me. “I tried this subway thing that some mouthy brunette keeps telling me about. Apparently it’s all the rage in this city.”
“You took the subway?” I asked, knowing that I was beaming at him like an idiot.
But he seemed to love it. “I took the subway,” he confirmed. “I still like cabs.”
“You have to get used to it,” I told him. “I can teach you.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said, and the smile got a little bit naughty and I lost my breath for a moment. “But today, I was hoping I could teach you something.”
The suggestion was filled with a lot of promise and the air in the lobby seemed to get hot and thick. My knees got a little wobbly.
“You want to teach me?” I asked, surprised I could find my voice.
Already I was imagining all the things he could teach me. And all the things I was more than willing to learn.
“Are you interested?” Josh asked, stepping closer.
“Uh-huh,” I managed.
He gave me that wicked smile again. “Good,” he said. “Come with me.”
Chapter 26
REAGAN
He took me to a baseball game. We went to Yankee Stadium to watch the Yankees play the Dodgers, and Josh bought me a hot dog and beer, a jersey and a baseball cap. He gave me a grin as he plopped it down on my head.