Accidental Roommate

by Jolie Day

  Best,

  -Ethan

  There was another line scribbled at the bottom in a different color ink, as though Ethan had gone days after writing the original letter before deciding that it just wasn’t complete.

  P.S. I miss you every day. You’re always in my thoughts.

  I let out a shaky breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. How long ago had he written this? By the looks of it, he’d written this note shortly after our “car encounter” all those years ago and had just never sent it. And, apparently, he’d carried it around with him all the way into adulthood.

  A deep, indescribable happiness blossomed in my chest. He did have feelings for me after all. He wasn’t just toying with me like a cat does with a mouse until it gets tired of it. From the letter, it sounded like he was the one worried that I didn’t have feelings for him, as though he was going to get in the way of me living my best life. Now, the fear seemed so irrational. It was obvious to me that life was better with Ethan in it, but I could understand his concern all those years ago when things felt so unsure. But what had led him to leave town in the first place? As I read the letter a second and third time, I began to wonder about the story behind this touching letter.

  “Maya?”

  Ethan’s groggy voice echoed faintly from the bedroom, and I glanced around for a place to stow my contraband love letter. The instinct to tuck the slip of paper in my bra crossed my mind, but I soon realized that I wasn’t wearing a bra, and if I were, it would be the first place Ethan was likely to find it. Then I looked at the book still open in my hands, and I let out an exasperated huff. Duh, Maya, you’re holding the hiding spot!

  I placed the note back inside the folds of the book as artfully as I could, trying to leave it the way I’d found it, and then slid the book back into its spot. In a few moments Ethan appeared at the top of the stairs, looking sexy in nothing but his boxer briefs. He leaned on the banister and glanced down at me, shaking his head in amusement.

  “What are you doing browsing books in the middle of the night?”

  I shrugged, trying to look innocent. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Well, next time that happens, wake me up. I’ll put you right back to sleep.”

  I smirked at him and started up the stairs, his soft robe slipping off my shoulders. I pushed up on my tiptoes when I met him and gave him a slow, sensual kiss. “Oh, yeah? How do you think you’re gonna manage that?”

  A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. “Come back to bed and I’ll show you.”

  I took him up on the offer, and I could honestly admit, the result was one of the soundest night’s sleep I’d gotten in a while.

  13

  Ethan

  Maya and I settled back into our old routine over the next week or two, but I couldn’t help feeling that something was different. I had a harder time holding Maya at arm’s length and not letting her into my private world, in fact, I enjoyed sharing my life with her. I began to slip into the habit of talking to her about work. Contrary to my belief that she’d be bored to tears by my daily life, she seemed genuinely interested and made an effort to stay up on whatever my current project was, even though investing wasn’t her strong suit. We still took showers together some mornings, but now instead of only using them as an excuse to fool around, I also vented about deals that were threatening to fall through or washed Maya’s long hair for her in satisfied silence. That had never happened to me before. Acting like a genuine couple seemed to come so naturally now.

  Maya was allowing herself to become more comfortable as well. Instead of fighting me when I tried to take her out to upscale restaurants or go looking around with her in designer stores, she let herself try something new. And most of the time, once she got over her internal feelings of not being good enough to be seen in those kinds of places, she enjoyed herself. We still went to Target to pick up dish soap and ate two-dollar slices of pizza in corner-store cafés, but there was nothing better than seeing her face light up when the cashier at Chanel took a bag off the shelf so she could admire it. I wanted to give her everything: gifts, money, my time, my loyalty. I was spending all my free time with her and hadn’t even looked at another woman in months.

  You’ve got it bad, I thought one night while I watched her order a botanical cocktail at a Bolivian grill in Midtown. The curves of her face were lit by soft candlelight as she smiled and made polite conversation with the waiter. I may have had the gift of persuasion, but Maya could make anyone love her once they talked to her, because she was just so genuine and kind.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked me when the waiter disappeared with our drink orders. I realized I must have been staring. “I just enjoy spending time with you, that’s all.”

  Maya smirked at me over the rim of her water glass. “And I enjoy spending time with you as well. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’d rather spend it with anyone else, really.”

  “Lucky you.” She was beautiful. I could look at her all night.

  “Lucky me.” Her soft brown eyes sparkled in the dim light, and she gave me a shy smile.

  The waiter returned with our drinks. An old-fashioned for me and a fizzling cocktail topped with rose petals for Maya. She thanked him in Spanish, and the two of them exchanged a few sentences in the language, laughing with each other until the waiter turned to me. “She says she enjoys how we’ve decorated in here. Your wife’s Spanish is very good!”

  I had no intention of correcting him and glanced over at Maya to make sure she wasn’t offended, but she was smiling down at her plate. I knew at that moment, that despite my best efforts, despite the twisting and confusing road that got us here, I loved her.

  “Thank you,” I replied. “She’s very smart.”

  After the waiter had left us to ourselves, I looked back at Maya. “So, it was your first day of guide training. Tell me everything.”

  “It was… crazy. A lot to learn and a lot of other people out there are gunning for a guide position, but they were all so interesting and smart, and they really seemed to like me. I’m going to have to study hard for this, but I’m ready for the challenge.”

  “If anyone can do it, you can.”

  She took a sip of her cocktail, then set it on the table. “Thank you. What about you? What did you do today?”

  “Brunch with a friend from the O’Leary legal firm who’s looking to diversify his portfolio. Then a slower afternoon. I spent an hour downtown with my tailor getting fitted for my suit for the Gala.” I hadn’t forgotten that the Gala was a sore spot between us, and I hadn’t brought it up since our big fight. However, instead of looking hurt, Maya looked thoughtful. She swirled her stir stick around in her glass for a few moments.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry for reacting so badly when you invited me to go with you.”

  “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have pushed you about it back then.”

  She stopped stirring her drink and glanced up at me. “It’s just… I can be a proud person, and I know that.”

  I chuckled. “I’ve noticed.”

  We sipped our drinks in silence, watching the people mill around by our table. “You know, I was never able to find a plus-one for that extra ticket.” It was sort of a bluff. I could have easily found a date if I had any interest in taking anyone but Maya, which I didn’t. “You’re a Met employee in training now. Might be a good networking opportunity for you.”

  Maya tried unsuccessfully not to smile at my suggestion. “You know, you’re probably right.”

  “I know a great tailor. He could whip you up something beautiful in no time at all.”

  “All right. I accept. But nothing too outlandish. No headpieces, no crazy patterns, no hems up to my ass.”

  I raised my glass to hers for a celebratory toast. “Deal.”

  Well, we would see about that.

  Maya spent most of the chauffeured ride to the Gala alternating between giddy excitement and debilitating nerves. As we approached the
huge building, moving at a snail’s pace through the crowded lanes of traffic, she grabbed my hand in a white-knuckled grip. I was dressed in a tailored midnight-blue suit, with a silver brocade around the hem and cuffs in the shape of different phases of the moon. Maya was wearing a long organza gown of matching blue, covered in hundreds of expertly applied silver star appliques. They accentuated the beautiful shape of her round tits, gathered at her waist, and streamed down the back of her ass like a celestial wedding veil train. Compared to most of the partygoers tonight, we were playing it subtle.

  “Are you ready?” I asked.

  She took a shaky breath. “I don’t know… but we’re going to find out.”

  I kissed her hand. “Just follow your instincts, you’ll be wonderful. And if you get overwhelmed, we can steal champagne and go stand alone on the balcony and talk about people we don’t like.”

  “Listen, Ethan”—She straightened her back and seemed to be working up her courage to say something—“I know about what my brother said to you.”

  I was taken aback. I’d sworn to myself that I’d never ruin Maya’s image of her brother by blaming him for my own actions. I’d stuck to that promise, even when it made her hate me.

  “How?”

  “I asked.”

  “Oh, God.” I ran a hand down my face.

  Maya leaned over and kissed me. “It’s all right. I don’t blame you—or him. It was a long time ago, and I’m just happy that wasn’t the end of our story.”

  The stress hanging over my head disappeared. “Good, I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Oh, and one more thing.”

  She popped open her little black clutch and pulled out a weathered piece of folded paper that I knew all too well, carrying it from apartment to apartment and looking at it on nights when my thoughts were restless. “How long have you had feelings for me, Mr. Ethan Joel Gladwell?”

  Her voice was teasing, assured that she was right. I took her face in my hands and kissed her gently.

  “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Maya.”

  “Glad I’m not the only one, then.”

  I cleared my throat, unsure if I really wanted to have this conversation right before the Gala, but I knew I needed to get it off my chest. She needed to know the truth. “Maya, I’m glad you talked to Rick, and now maybe you understand a little more about why I left, but—”

  “Shhh.” She cut me off. “There’s nothing to explain. My brother thought he was protecting me. He always had to because of our parents. He took the brunt of their abuse so I wouldn’t have to. I was just left with low self-esteem and trust issues. I’ve tried… How he’s still sane, I’ll never know. That’s why I’m not mad at him. I couldn’t be. Our parents were…” She trailed off and looked down at her hands.

  “I know. I didn’t know the true extent of it, but I knew Rick… I left because I never wanted you to look at your brother as anything but your big brother. He was all you had. And I was in no position to help you.” I took a breath and cupped her chin. “It’s all in the past now. Let’s enjoy our night and leave the past where it belongs: in the past.”

  She nodded with tears forming in her eyes. “I love you even more now than before, Ethan Gladwell.”

  “I never stopped loving you, Maya.”

  Our car rolled to a stop, and I kissed her one more time before letting her gather her skirts and her resolve. She took my hand as the chauffeur opened the door for us, and then we stepped out into the glare of glittering dresses and paparazzi flashing cameras—standing united against the madness of the world around us.

  Inside the Gala, Maya shined. Brighter than the moon above the skylight, brighter than the silver stars on her dress. She sparkled while I marveled from the sidelines. No matter who crossed her path, she was able to find something to talk to them about. Curators and celebrities and diplomats walked past her, stealing glances at her perfect figure in that dress, and she engaged whoever said hello with a radiant smile and clever conversation regarding any kind of piece of art they were standing next to. No matter what artifact of the past they gestured toward, Maya had something to say about it, even if it was just that she liked the warm color palette, or that she felt like the artist must have been influenced by Rococo architecture. I’d never seen her so perfectly happy and, despite the odds, at ease. Her pre-gala jitters were gone. She was in her element. She was home.

  We moved from room to room, making conversation with whoever caught our eye. It appeared as though the entire upper crust of New York was here, and I recognized opera singers and philanthropists next to investment bankers and politicians who I’d worked with personally. One of them, a young blond man with all the self-assured confidence of someone who knew he could argue his way out of anything, made a move for Maya while my back was turned. I rolled my eyes at his well-known playboy antics before appearing at Maya’s side, two glasses of champagne in hand.

  “Good to see you again, Thomas. I see you’ve found my date. Maya, this is Thomas O’Leary, one of the best prosecuting attorneys in the city.”

  Thomas looked a little embarrassed, but only slightly. He nodded at Maya with all the respect of a gentleman, mischief in his eyes. “Ethan, always good to see you. And a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Maya. And you are Ethan’s friend or—?”

  “Girlfriend,” Maya responded in a confident tone. “We live together.”

  I was so proud of her.

  “Lucky man,” Thomas said, throwing me a wink.

  “Are you here alone?” I asked, but I wasn’t ribbing him. Thomas had mentioned over brunch that he was having a hard time finding the right person to take with him to the Gala. It wasn’t that he didn’t have plenty of names in his phone who were dying to be called up for a date, or that there weren’t women in his legal circle who he could do some smart networking with by taking on a friendly business outing. But Thomas was… particular. If someone didn’t hold his attention to the point of fascination, he wasn’t interested.

  “Stag once again,” he said, taking a sip of his champagne.

  “No woman out there who can keep up with you?”

  “Not yet,” Thomas said, patting my shoulder. “But the night is still young.”

  He nodded to Maya and moved past us to go talk to some other young starlet in the crowd. I chuckled as he went. “He’s really not a bad guy, just… a character. Sorry about that.”

  “No problem,” Maya said, taking my champagne. “I was talking to an older woman before he came over who might need some help cataloging her private collection of antique jewelry. I gave her my name and number.”

  Despite the score of people milling around us, I couldn’t keep my hand from sliding around her waist. “You’re a wonder.”

  “Just trying to keep up with you. Now, look at this.” She nodded to a painting on the wall that had caught her eye: a war scene showing men being thrown from horseback. “Done in oils, but with the sort of heavy hand and bold strokes that you usually see with acrylic paintings.”

  I looked to the painting for a moment and then back down to the most amazing piece of art in the museum, the one I had my arm around.

  “Do you want to get married?” I asked.

  Maya almost choked on her champagne. “What?”

  “Not now. Maybe not soon, but eventually. You’re the only woman I want, Maya. I’ve known that for years, and now that I have you, I never want to let you go. So, will you marry me?”

  Her eyes lit up with happy tears at the corners, and then she threw her arms around my neck with an exuberance you didn’t generally see at fundraising galas and kissed me full on the mouth. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “Yes. Ethan, I don’t want to lose you, either. I…” A startled look came into her eyes. “Wait. Oh, no!”

  “What is it?”

  “Ricky. He doesn’t even know we’re together, much less—”

  I burst out laughing. “Well, for God’s sake, call him! Maybe lead with us being together and break the engagement a lit
tle later, though, just a thought.”

  I watched with the kind of happiness I never thought I wanted, much less would have in my life, swelling in my chest while Maya pulled her phone out of her clutch and called her brother.

  “Ricky, hi! Listen, I need to tell you something. I met this guy and things are going really well… Yeah, it’s great, thank you for saying that! I’m really happy.” She paused. “You’re never going to guess who it is…”

  I stifled a laugh when Maya carried on a quick defense of my character and assured her brother that I was perfectly capable of taking care of her and treating her right. She was almost vibrating with joy and excitement. After a minute or so, she held the phone out to me. “He wants to talk to you.”

  The blood drained from my face, but I took the phone all the same. If I wanted Maya, I had to stop avoiding her family eventually. “Hey, Rick.”

  “Ethan. It’s been a while.”

  “Yeah, it has.”

  “Listen.” Rick let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. “Maya’s a pretty smart girl, and if she says you’re good for her and you make her happy, that’s the only thing that really matters to me. I guess I should’ve taken you two a little more seriously back then, huh?”

  “I guess so.” I was brief. There were things to talk about, but now was not the time.

  “It sounds like she’s living a dream life up there with you. Just, take care of her. And for God’s sake, come back and visit sometime, my mother thinks you’re dead.”

  “I promise.” I handed Maya the phone, and she finished her conversation with her brother. Then she slid her arms around me, and I kissed her again. “I’m getting tired. What do you say we go home and head to bed, see where things go from there?”

  Maya’s eyes flickered with excitement. “Sounds perfect.”