Park Avenue Prince(53)

I wasn’t going to be taken in by all that. I wanted to like Sam because of the way he was so sincere about everything—the way he never seemed to hide any part of himself when he was with me. I didn’t want to be with him for his apartment or because it was close to my work.

“Okay, well we can keep sleeping in Brooklyn if that’s what makes you happy.”

Sam had changed my future. He’d shown me things could be different. He may have money, but it didn’t define him . . . and I shouldn’t let it define me.

“I think you and the apartment are just perfect. And I think I prefer this bed,” I said, sitting up.

Maybe being back at 740 Park Avenue might be more of a rebellion than a surrender to a life I didn’t want.





Chapter Seventeen

Sam





“You got along with Max, right?” Grace asked as we turned off I-95 toward Max and Harper’s house. The journey had been slow—first with traffic and then because the roads had grown icy as we’d gotten farther out of the city.

“Sure,” I replied, glancing across at her. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She’d never asked about my friends other than Angie and Chas, but I supposed as I never mentioned any, she knew there wasn’t anyone else in my life. Apart from her. Grace had unexpectedly changed things in small ways and big ways. I now had a bed and a sofa and I’d increased the number of people I cared about in the world by fifty percent.

“Should I buy a car?” I’d rented a Range Rover for the drive out to Connecticut. “I have a parking space in the building.”

“Mr. No Possessions wants to buy something that won’t make him money? You’re becoming quite the shopper. I had a car I never used, so I sold it. You think you’ll use it?”

I liked the way this one drove, but I wasn’t really interested in buying a car. What I wanted was to take my mind off a weekend in the country. It hadn’t seemed significant when I’d agreed. I’d been content to make Grace happy, but as the city drifted away, the scenery became disturbingly reminiscent.

I’d never been back to my old neighborhood in New Jersey. Hightimes was thirty miles from the house I’d grown up in, and although Angie and I had travelled into the city, we never went back to my childhood home. As an adult, I never wanted to be reminded of my parents’ deaths. The good memories weren’t worth reliving the bad.

I put my hand on Grace’s knee. I was doing this for her and she was worth it. She slid her palm under mine and squeezed my fingers.

“This weekend is a lot of firsts for us,” she said. “First trip away together. First time I have to deal with your driving.” She laughed as I pulled a shocked face. “First time staying with friends. First evening with Max and Harper on our own. I mean, I have no idea who we are in public.” She seemed anxious, and as much as I was, too, her anxiety was more troubling to me than my own.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Well, are we one of those affectionate couples who can’t stop touching each other? Are we the type who bicker? Do we laugh at each other’s jokes even though we’ve heard them before? Who are we?”

“You’re crazy. Let’s just be who we are. You’re still you. I’m still me. Even in public.”

“You make it sound so easy.” She sighed. “I hope you’re right. You never know, I might not think you’re so hot in the Connecticut light.”

I started to chuckle. “You’re so funny. Let’s pull over and get naked so I can convince you that you’ll still think I’m hot.” I pulled over, then turned on the hazard lights.

She grabbed my forearm. “No, that’s their house on the corner. We’ve arrived already.”

“We can turn around. I want to be sure you still find me attractive.”

She shook her head in exasperation, so I pulled out and turned into the driveway.

A teenaged girl stood in the drive with a baby on her hip. She waved.

“That’s Max’s fifteen-year-old daughter, Amanda,” she said and I waved as well. “The baby is Amber. Lizzie, the youngest, is probably sleeping.”

That seemed like a lot of kids.

Harper came out to greet us as we got out of the car, her arms outstretched. “I’m so excited you’re here.” She pulled us both into a hug.

“Harper! I need your boob,” Max shouted from inside the house.

“If only that were true,” she muttered as she guided us in. “Oh, how I long for the days when Max was first in line for some boob action.”

“She’s breastfeeding,” Grace explained.

“Sometimes I feel like a cow,” Harper replied. “I just exist for my milk and wonder if I’ll get slaughtered when I dry up.”

Grace laughed at Harper’s dramatic drawl. “Welcome to Connecticut, Sam.”

Harper turned and grinned. “Yes, welcome. You’ll be happy to know you won’t be required to breastfeed during your stay.”

“I appreciate it,” I replied.

As soon as we got through the door, Max kissed Grace on the cheek and then handed the baby to Harper before shaking my hand.

“Let’s have a beer. I need to celebrate doubling the number of men in the house,” Max said as he dove into the fridge, bringing out a bottle of wine and two beers.