twenty
By the time James offered to take me home, after the last guests had left, their well wishes still echoing on the rooftop, I was feeling the deep-seated, exhausted satisfaction of a remarkable twenty-four hours. We bid the serving staff our thanks and good night, and we made our way down to street level. I slipped off my heels while we were still in the lobby, already back in the New York–native habit of tucking a pair of ballet flats into my bag for longer walks. James laughed as he held my heels for me.
“We have a car waiting, you freak,” he said. “You don’t have to walk anywhere anymore if you don’t want to.” He had loosened his necktie. Above it, I glimpsed the shadow of a beard that would be clean shaven again in a matter of hours.
I sighed happily and took the crook of his offered arm. He looped the straps of my heels in his fingers, using his free hand to open the back door of the waiting Escalade. I climbed in and sank down deep into the black leather seats. The sumptuous silk of my dress pooled at my feet. “So this is what it feels like to live in New York and not be a pauper.” I closed my eyes. “It’s like visiting a foreign country.”
James laughed softly as the car pulled away smoothly from the curb. “You are now a passport-carrying member of the waiting-car club. It suits you.”
I could feel him watching me. I opened my eyes and met his gaze.
He laced his fingers with mine. “I’ve missed you, Grace,” he said, eyes on me. “This city has plenty to offer, but even with all that, it just isn’t the same without you in it.”
I shifted a bit in my seat. “I can hardly believe that’s true,” I said, tone light. “Though after tonight, I might just believe anything.”
He smiled and raised my hand to his lips, leaving a feather-light kiss on my palm. “Believe it,” he said just before I pulled my hand away. He turned to look out his window. We traveled the remaining blocks in companionable silence, lost in our own thoughts and in the late-night New York that streamed past our windows. When we pulled up to the Gansevoort, James got out of the car to open my door. I stepped onto the pavement, my feet reminding me that they deserved some time off.
James pulled me into a hug. He spoke into my hair. “You were luminous tonight. All day, really.”
“Thank you,” I said, stifling a yawn into his shoulder. “It was certainly a day for the history books.”
He pulled away and waited for me to meet his gaze. Then he leaned in, eyes closed, for a kiss. I ducked away, my hands pushing gently on his chest. “James.”
He stared at me, hands still around my waist.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” I said, instantly hating myself for sounding so apologetic. Tucker and I hadn’t exactly defined what we were, but I knew without consulting him that it didn’t feel right kissing someone else.
James forced a wry smile, but it didn’t cover the wounded look in his eyes. “You mean mixing business with pleasure? That never bothered you before.”
I spoke quietly but I knew he could hear me, even with the sound of a passing cab. “We never got that far. You know that.” An image of James holding a box with all the contents of my desk flashed through my mind, but by the look on his face, I could see he was thinking something else entirely.
“How about a nightcap then?” he said, his eyes searching my face, traveling to my neck. “I won’t stay.” Two fingers up. “Scout’s honor.”
I smiled but took a step back. “I’m going to go on a limb and assume you were never a Boy Scout.”
He put both hands up in surrender before running them through his thick hair. “Busted. Never a Boy Scout. Though I did help a local troop with a lemonade stand one year. Quadrupled their profits, I might add.” He shrugged in mock humility.
“Good night, James,” I said, taking a step backward toward the gleaming front doors of the hotel. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” James said, bowing slightly, the picture of a gentleman. “I’ll look forward to it.” He turned to the waiting car and called over his shoulder, one hand on the polished chrome handle, “Did I mention how stunning you look this evening?”
I shook my head slightly but smiled as I entered the spacious lobby. This can work, I reassured myself. We can be friends and business partners. This is the twenty-first century and we are both adults. I crossed the lobby to the elevators and entered a quiet cocoon when the doors parted. The elevator lifted me soundlessly and deposited me onto lush carpet leading to my suite door. I opened the door, dropped the key card on a glass-topped coffee table, kicked off my flats, and collapsed heavily onto the king bed. I stared at the ceiling, dimly lit by streetlight, and a wave of missing washed over me. The day had been a remarkable one, but I couldn’t put it to sleep. Not yet. I turned the switch on a bedside lamp and reached for my phone, sensing the day’s events would feel real only after I’d talked with him.
Tucker answered on the fourth ring, his voice heavy with sleep.
“Gracie?” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said hurriedly. “Totally okay. I’m sorry.” I worried my bottom lip with my teeth. “I know it’s super late.”
“Or early,” he said, his voice thick. “Depends on how you look at a clock.”
I smiled. “It’s so good to hear your voice. I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he said. “Even at the ungodly hour of one in the morning, I miss you.”
I sighed heavily. “I wish you could have seen today. I was, um, kind of a celebrity.”
“Is that right?” He stifled a yawn but I could hear it in his voice anyway. “Sounds about right to me.”
“I saw my new offices. They’re beautiful. Huge windows, plenty of work space, all sorts of electricity without power cords.” I was trying for a joke, but I felt my words fall flat.
“Sounds very modern,” Tucker offered after a beat. I rushed on.
“I have a full-time assistant. And two design assistants. And investors who are falling all over themselves to help me expand Flyover.”
“They should be falling all over themselves,” Tucker said, his voice so low and soft I had to turn up the volume on my phone. “You’re what makes this all work, Grace. They know that.”
“They threw me a party. On a rooftop. It was beautiful. And romantic.” I meant to call to mind my wish that he’d been there with me, but Tucker landed elsewhere.
He cleared his throat. “How’s James, then?” I could hear the effort he was making to keep the words light and self-assured.
“Oh, fine,” I said, one hand instinctively going to my lips, remembering his attempt at a kiss. “He thinks Flyover will be a soaring success. I think so too, but the next week is going to be bruising.” I picked at a corner of the hotel stationery. “We have to put together an entire line by a week from Friday. Buyers are coming for potential orders.”
“So this Friday will have to wait?” Again with the forced ease, but I could hear a note of disappointment in the question.
“I’m sorry,” I said, startled that I hadn’t even considered this change of plans before that moment. “I’ll need the weekend to work here. But next Friday, I’m all yours.”
“I can pick you up in Des Moines,” Tucker said, all business. “If Gigi doesn’t mind me taking a turn.”
I closed my eyes, frustrated with our awkward rhythm. Why was this so much more difficult across miles? “I’m sure she won’t mind.” I waited a moment before letting us both off the hook. “We can talk later. I’m sorry to wake you.”
“Not a problem,” he said, and I pushed away the thought that he used that same tone to sign off with his accountant. “I love hearing your voice, no matter the hour.”
“Night, Tuck,” I said quietly.
“Sleep well, Gracie,” he said.
We hung up. I let my head fall onto one of the voluminous pillows on the bed and tried to sort out what went awry in my conversation with Tucker. I didn’t get far before I felt my eyelids get heavy and the room start to fade, even with the bedside lamp still illuminated. It took a Herculean effort to stand and unzip my dress, letting it fall to the floor in a soft heap that would have to keep for a few hours until my alarm roused me to a long workday. I turned off the lamp, slipped between the sheets, and surrendered fully to what little was left of the night.