Stay(21)

“It’s less than ten minutes on the train.”

“It’s a ridiculous suggestion. I’m not moving in with you.”

He pauses a moment, considering me. “Is it because of the other thing? Your inability to keep your hands off me?”

My eyes narrow. “I can keep my hands off you.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll have my housekeeper clean out the spare rooms.”

“It is not settled!” My voice goes higher.

Lulabell chooses that moment to return with the red dress over her arm. “What’s not settled? Is there a problem with the register?”

“Stephen just asked me to move in with him.” I slant my eyes at her for backup.

Instead, a massive grin splits her cheeks. “Damn, girl! When you’ve got it, you’ve got it!” She puts the dress on the counter laughing.

Stephen’s expression is mildly amused. “Tell you what. I’ll make you dinner tonight and show you the place.”

He takes the dress from Lou, and she turns to me, arms crossed, a mischievous grin on her face that says just do it.

“I have to work tonight.”

His brow furrows. “Where?”

Lulabell jumps in. “It’s a fundraiser fashion show at The Art Bar. She’ll be done by seven, seven thirty at the latest.”

“Thanks, Lou.” I don’t even try to mask the sarcasm in my voice.

Stephen taps his hand on the counter. “I’ll pick you up at your place at eight.”

He doesn’t wait for my answer before he’s out the door.

I turn to Lulabell, and she only laughs, waving her hand. “Stop fighting, baby girl. Enjoy the ride!”





8





Stephen


The day moves too slowly. I hop online and video chat with my work partner Remington Key in South Carolina. He’s finalizing coding, and his hair’s a mess. He’s in a white t-shirt and pajama pants, and a tiny, dark baby’s head is on his shoulder.

I can’t resist teasing my formerly ship-shape Naval buddy. “Perhaps you’re taking this working from home a bit too far. At least put on pants, man.”

“What time is it?” He rubs an eye and looks around, I presume searching for a clock.

“It’s after noon. See the top corner of your screen.”

“Sorry, this little peanut didn’t want to sleep last night.” He puts a large hand on the tiny baby’s back, and something inside me twinges. What the fuck? I snatch up a stress ball and give it a squeeze.

“You know, children bring lice into the house.” I lean back, pushing against the unwelcome rush of sentiment in my chest.

“I can’t wait to give you hell when it’s your turn to have one of these.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time, my friend. Now, what’s on the agenda?”

We pull out our master list, and he names potential clients for a new defense program he’s working on. Remi has made a name for himself with military applications. I’ve always been more interested in healthcare. In my opinion, it’s a more urgent problem. He’s always been more focused overseas, but we make our relationship work.

Actually, Remi and I are good friends.

His wife walks in and takes the baby. She waves at me on the screen, and I nod glancing at the clock. “We should call it a day. You look well, my friend. I’m glad.”

“And you’re still living the single life?”

“I wouldn’t say it in those words.”

He’s easy and happy. “What words would you use?”

“I’m developing my business. I’m not hanging out in bars hitting on women.”

Remi leans forward, looking directly into my eyes. “Your business is developed. Are you planning to be alone the rest of your life?”

The question hits me in a way I don’t like. “Perhaps, if that’s what I choose to do. Modern society is too fixated on the construct of marriage and two point five children.”

“Try it some time.”

I’ve had enough. “If we’re done here—”

He laughs, and I click the mouse to close the window. It’s six-thirty. Tapping on my phone, I place a to-go order and schedule delivery for two hours from now.

Remi’s words have made me restless. How I choose to live my life is nobody’s business. Frustration tightens my chest, and instead of calling my car service, I head out the door to walk downtown.

The streets of New York are easier to manage solo. My hands are in my pockets, and I move through the clumps of tourists and residents like a pebble in a stream.

I couldn’t relax in the cab home from Emmy’s place last night. Sexual frustration was part of it, but also thinking of her in that apartment clenched my jaw. It’s cramped and dangerous. The location is bad, and it’s not enough space for Eli. Hell, what if he had a seizure? He could hit his head on any number of objects if he fell in that rattrap.

Emmy’s resistance nags at the back of my mind. Why won’t she stop fighting and do what I say? She knows I’m right. I think of Ximena and Ramon in that fucking dump in the Bronx. If I could have helped them, I would’ve.

When I got home last night, I surveyed all the wasted space in my townhome. I only use two rooms on the top floor, apart from the common areas, I have space for two more people easily.