In a New York Minute(90)

“Okay.” I sat down on the love seat that was positioned across from the couch. I was so excited to see them that I couldn’t stop my body from bouncing up and down ever so slightly. “What is it?”

“You first,” Cleo said to Lola, whose face broke out into a wide grin. Cleo clutched her hands in front of her face, giddy.

“Cleo already knows,” she said.

“What’s going on?” I asked, nervous. Was she somehow pregnant? I glanced at the Van Halen T-shirt she was wearing and tried to see if there was any sort of outline of a bump.

She held out her left hand, which had been tucked in her lap, and waved it at me. Just below a dark-blue manicure sat a gold ring with a giant black diamond at the center, flanked by smaller, white diamonds.

“Holy shit,” I said, trying to process what I was seeing.

“I’m engaged!” she squealed, in an excited octave her voice rarely hit.

“To”—I was still trying to wrap my head around it—“Perrine?”

She nodded, beaming. “I proposed.”

“Oh my god, Lola!” I stood up and moved toward her, and she rose to meet me for a hug. “I am so happy for you.”

I let her go and grabbed her hand. “Also, holy shit, that rock is big.”

“It was her grandmother’s,” she said. “She said she’d been waiting for the right time to ask me, but I beat her to it.”

“Holy crap. It’s so beautiful.” My eyes immediately overflowed with tears, for what felt like the fiftieth time today. “Oh my god, of course I’m crying again.” I reached over to the side table for a tissue. “It’s been a long day,” I explained.

“Okay, well, hopefully this won’t make you cry,” said Cleo as she leaned forward, grabbing something out of her purse. “It just came out.”

She passed a copy of Architectural Digest across the table. On the cover was a photo of Eleanor, in a long black tank dress and bright-red flats, perched on her desk. Hayes stood, arms crossed, next to her. Even this tiny version of him, so stoic and serious, shot a pang of longing through my heart.

“I’ve been dying to see this,” I said reverently. The magazine piece, yes. But also, Hayes’s face. I’d missed it.

“You need to read the article inside,” Cleo said, grabbing the magazine and flipping through the pages before sliding it back to me. “Specifically…” She tapped to a paragraph on the page, toward the end.

I scanned the beginning, which was mostly a recap of Hayes and Eleanor’s business, and the history of the office space, which was originally an old tannery. And then I followed Cleo’s finger to this:

Franny Doyle’s use of organic elements to highlight the former industrial space relied on repurposed materials, natural light, and colors that calm anyone who enters, providing a respite not just from the city but from the often dull or overdone design of today’s modern financial centers. “Her vision and execution were integral to creating a workspace that represents the essence and soul of Arbor,” Montgomery told AD. “She represents the future of sustainable design.”



“Wow.” I looked back up at my friends, attempting a calm and collected face. “That’s really nice.”

But inside, my thoughts were bouncing around at warp speed. God, I missed Hayes, and that formal side of him that said stuffy things like “vision and execution.” But I missed the other side of him more: the patient listener, the thoughtful date, the painfully funny dork.

I missed all of him. So much.

Also, damn, this write-up was a big deal. This was the kind of press that actually translated into jobs. I could put this quote on the front page of my website, follow up with some of my old design contacts from Spayce and share the article. My brain was plotting and scheming about work for what felt like the first time in forever. Excitement was creeping back into my body. God, I’d loved designing the Arbor office. I wasn’t ready to give up on that feeling. I wanted it back.

“My mom’s friends are asking me for your contact info,” Cleo said excitedly.

“Seriously?” I asked. All of this good news felt surreal.

“Yes, they’ve all been obsessed with you since the gala, and now that they’ve seen your work they’re chomping at the bit. I just wanted to make sure it was okay before I passed on your phone number. I know you’ve got stuff going on with your mom.”

“Yes, oh my god, it’s more than okay.” I looked at my friends with a stupid smile on my face. “That would be amazing.”

“Man, I’ve missed you,” Lola said, smiling back.

“I’ve missed you too. Both of you.” I wanted to wrap my arms around them and never let them go. “When are you supposed to go back to the city?”

“Our train’s in a couple hours,” Lola said, glancing at her phone for the time. “We thought we could hang out here and bug you for a little bit.”

That sounded nice. But what I really wanted, more than anything, was to go back home to Brooklyn. I wanted to put everything I had into getting my business off the ground, and to find the right words to express to Hayes how sorry I was about how things had ended between us. I was ready to make myself proud.

“Or…,” I said to my friends, a plan forming clearly in my mind. “Could you help me pack?”