Chapter 27 – Larson
There's a note on the night stand beside the bed.
Dear Larson,
I got called into work. It shouldn't take long. I didn't want to wake you. Sorry.
Brynn
P.S. Last night was hot.
I look at the alarm clock: 9:00 AM.
I can't believe I slept in. That's late for me, even on a Sunday. I'm usually an early riser, preferring to jump on my bike and ride into the sunrise. But then I remember that it's only seven o’clock in the morning my time, Mountain Standard Time. That's a little better.
I scrutinize the note again. Despite the presence of its very accurate “P.S.,” I feel a little bit blown off by it. I have no idea when Brynn went into work or how long she's going to be there. I can't help but think she wrote the "P.S." just to placate me because she knew I'd be upset.
I don't begrudge the fact that she has a job to do. But she'd told me she had taken the weekend off, and this is my last day here. I wish she would have at least woken me up to let me know she had to go. Maybe thrown in a BJ as a parting gift, a peace offering of sorts.
I sigh. Then I head downstairs. Maybe she has some bagels in the kitchen or something. If not, I'm sure that bagel shops abound everywhere in Brooklyn. Even if there's no green chile in the bread.
I soon hear Caleb's voice, but he's speaking in Spanish.
Even though I grew up in New Mexico, no one in my family or among my friends speaks Spanish, so I never had an occasion to learn it. But Caleb's voice sure sounds cute as he babbles in the lilting lyrical phrasing of the Spanish language.
"Hey buddy," I say, as I turn the corner into the kitchen.
"Hey buddy," he repeats. Then he points at me and says "Mo-to-cycle man. Larson."
"Good job," I tell him, proud that he can say my name.
"Nice to meet you," says his nanny, extending a hand for me to shake. "My name is Esmeralda."
"Hey Esmeralda." I nod at her. "Nice to meet you."
Caleb is eating Mickey Mouse- shaped pancakes. A vision of Brynn's naked body spread out on the table jumps into my mind, and I don't know whether to laugh or feel guilty. I shake my head.
"You like those pancakes?" I ask him.
"Esie made." He smiles. "Yum yum yum."
Esmeralda beams.
"He likes the Mickey Mouse," she informs me. “And he calls me Esie.”
It appears that Caleb is in good hands.
"I'm going to go grab something to eat," I announce.
"Mommy working," Caleb says.
"I know, buddy," I tell him.
The poor little guy looks as disappointed as I feel.
"Larson come back?" he asks me, looking hopeful now.
"I'll come back after breakfast," I tell him.
"Larson go library?" he asks.
I cock my head at him.
Esmeralda laughs.
"Caleb goes to story time at the library," she tells me. "He invites you."
"Well that's very nice of you," I tell Caleb. I hope that Brynn is done working in time to go. "We'll see."
"We'll see!" he repeats excitedly.
I head out the door and before I know it I'm on the M-train. The one that takes me to Manhattan and to Brynn's office building. I feel propelled in her direction, to be near her even though I know I can't see her.
My stomach rumbles— I always like to eat meat and potatoes first thing in the morning, or anytime of day for that matter— and I decide I'll go back to The Argonaut. That sausage skillet dish I had yesterday was great. I know they had some other flavorful- looking options as well.
And maybe if Brynn's done working soon, she can join me for a meal. She’s probably worked up quite an appetite, having to go in so early on a weekend day.
I look at my phone, but she hasn't texted. I resist the urge to text her. I'll just look desperate, pathetic. As if eating at the diner near her fucking office isn't desperate and pathetic enough.
I'm about to walk into the diner when I see something in the big, open glass window that I just can't believe.
It's Brynn. And she's with a guy.
Steven, I immediately think. But as I peer around the corner to get a better view, I realize it's even worse.
It's Clay Tucker. The Albuquerque billionaire. In New York, at the same time as I am. Eating with Brynn at The Argonaut diner, just as I had.
Except that, as far as I know, he has no reason to be in New York City. And I thought I did. But Brynn's little note didn't mention Clay.
Nor did it mention that he’d be reaching across the table to pat her hand, as I can clearly see him doing through the window. She doesn’t do anything to encourage him in return but she certainly doesn’t do anything to discourage him either. And then I see them get up to go and she takes his arm.
What the ever loving fuck? I try to tell myself that everything is just for business. She’s always saying how she has to schmooze people. This is just her schmoozing him.
But then I remind myself that I hadn’t even known he was in town or that she was meeting with him today or that she’d have to schmooze him. So now I have no idea what to think.
All I know for sure is that I can't have the sausage skillet today. And maybe not ever again.
Maybe Brynn is playing me. I don’t want to think of that possibility. I can’t believe she’d do that or that I’d be so foolish as to not figure it out until now. But I don’t want to be fucking naïve. I just don’t know if I can trust her after this, no matter what is going on.