Page 66 of Pretending I'm Yours

“And then he taught me how to navigate office politics,” I add.

Maya blinks. “And what office was this?”

“One of the biggest banks in New York,” Bailey Anne supplies, arching a brow my way. “Are you being modest again? Why am I not surprised?” To Maya she adds, “He’s a genius with numbers, graduated high school when he was practically a fetus, and was off making straight As at Columbia while the rest of us were failing Pre-Calc and getting drunk in Stephanie Crier’s attic.” She motions to me with her champagne flute. “But that’s not the kind of character reference I’m here to give. Yes, he’s a genius and very successful, but when it comes to relationships? Disaster.”

“Hey,” I say, my frown deepening as Harold adds, “I’ll second that. I knew his marriage was doomed from the start.”

Maya’s lips part, but if she’s shocked to hear that I was married, she doesn’t show it. “Really? How so?”

“They didn’t laugh together,” Harold says. “Love without laughter never lasts. It’s like expecting a plant to grow without sunlight.”

“And she cheated on Anthony like it was a sport and she was training for the Olympics,” Bailey Anne adds, making Maya wince.

She meets my gaze across the table, her usual compassion shining her eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” I say, “but it takes two to make a marriage fail. When I realized we were growing apart, I didn’t try nearly as hard as I should have to bridge the distance. Instead, I found excuses to stay late at the office, until one day I came home early and she um…” I clear my throat with a soft laugh. “She clearly wasn’t expecting me.”

“She was boinking the doorman,” Harold offers, making my brows shoot up my forehead. “Well, she was,” he maintains. “No sense sugarcoating it.”

“And ever since then, our boy has hidden his heart away,” Bailey Anne says, making me squirm a little. This isn’t what I was expecting, but I should have known better than to think Bailey Anne would pull any punches. “Which is a shame,” she continues. “Because he’s got a great heart. Even when we were kids, Anthony was always the guy you could count on to stick up for you on the playground or share his cookie at lunch. He never talked shit or spread rumors and without his free tutoring, I’m pretty sure I would have failed geometry in seventh grade. Does any of that surprise you?”

Maya’s cheeks flush as her fingers trace up and down the stem of her glass. After a beat, she shakes her head. “No. It doesn’t.”

My chest goes tight with hope, but before I can speak or catch her gaze, Harold adds, “And when my wife was hit by a taxi driver crossing Fifth Avenue, Anthony was the first one at the hospital. He held my hand until my daughter got there, and then he held us both together until we got the news that Maggie was going to be fine. That’s not something I expected from an employee, but I sure was grateful. And I’ve never forgotten it.” He turns to me, his blue eyes misty, making the backs of my own eyes start to sting. “I confess, I was hoping you might end up my son-in-law someday, Anthony, but then Deb had to go and take that damned pasta class.”

We all laugh, his joke breaking the tension just in time.

As we reach for our glasses, Maya’s phone buzzes again, three times in rapid succession. She reaches into her bag, glancing at the screen with a small frown before turning it off. “I’m so sorry. I swear, I’m not usually this popular.”

“Is everything all right?” Bailey Anne asks.

Maya nods. “Yes, it’s fine. Just friends from home checking in.”

Bailey Anne sighs. “I wish I had friends from home.” I arch a pointed brow, and she laughs. “I mean, friends from a cute little town in Maine kind of friends from home. City friends are different. We’re all so cynical.”

“Speak for yourself,” Harold says. “I’ve grown rather optimistic in my old age. I’m starting to have faith that it will all work out. Probably not in my lifetime, but I see a bright future ahead. We’re going to learn to do better. As a planet and a people.”

Bailey’s lips curve in a bemused grin. “I hope so, Harold. That sure would be nice.”

“To learning to do better,” I say, lifting my glass Maya’s way.

“To learning to do better,” she echoes, her gaze softening as she adds, “though I think you’re doing pretty good already, Mr. Clark.”

Harold and Bailey Anne exchange a subtle glance, making me glad I thought to warn them ahead of time. I didn’t tell them the whole crazy story—I wasn’t sure Harold was ready to hear that I decided to moonlight as a male escort—but they know I wasn’t completely honest with Maya the night we met.

And they know I’m here tonight to make up for that…

“Ready for your next surprise?” I ask as we set our now empty glasses down and Bailey Anne reaches for the bottle chilling on ice.

Maya’s brows lift. “Another surprise?”

“Anything worth doing is worth doing right,” I say with a little shrug, hoping she likes the next surprise as much as meeting my friends. It’s a little riskier, and could very well blow up in my face, but I still want to make the offer. I want her to know that I’m ready to put my money where my mouth is, and that I believe in her.

I really do. There’s no doubt in my mind that, with the proper support and capital at her fingertips, Maya can transform that building in Red Hook into something truly special.

“Hope to see you again soon, Maya,” Bailey Anne says with a warm smile. “I have to run in ten. Pilates.” She lifts her newly full glass with a laugh. “We’ll see how that goes. I don’t usually have champagne before I strap into the machine, but hell, it’s still the holidays.”

“I don’t usually have champagne at all,” Harold says with a tired shake of his head. “I can’t handle bubbles the way I used to. I’ll be lucky to make it home without falling asleep in the cab.”

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