Page 281 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

First message:Where are you? I need to talk.

What would she need to talk about that can’t wait until tonight when we made plans to see each other? Since hours have passed, I decide to call. Listening to the ring, I start to wonder if she might be one of those people who never answers their phone. Based on her master avoidance skills, I’m sure of it. “This box is full,” the AI voice says.

“Figures.”

Looking out the window, I don’t even know where I am in the city to be able to tell her when I can meet her or where. I text anyway:Just got out of an appointment. Is everything okay?

I wait and watch for three dots to roll across the screen, hoping they do, but nothing comes. Should I detour the car to her apartment building? Or should I keep heading back to Nick and Natalie’s?

Natalie.

She’ll know what’s going on. Just as I pull up her number, we hit a pothole, causing me to glance up. I recognize some of the landmarks, so maybe it’s best I just ask about Tatum when I get back.

The vehicle pulls up to the curb, depositing me at Nick’s. A weird feeling twists in my stomach as I rush up the stairs. Tatum and I haven’t been texting up to this point. It’s been the bane of our relationship, or should I say the lack of texts, actually. So it’s surprising to see this one, but the missed calls are even more strange to receive. The smallest bit of hope grows with every step I take that maybe Tatum will be here, and I can ask her instead.

I’m hit with the smell of something delicious as soon as I walk in. “Hello?”

“Hey, Harrison,” Natalie calls from the back of the house. When I reach the kitchen, she’s cutting carrots.

I’m tempted to hit her with fifty questions, but I have to play this carefully. The last thing I’d want to hear is that Natalie told Tatum I was acting possessive and psycho. “What are you cooking?”

“Chicken noodle soup.” She looks up with a self-deprecating grin. “I think it’s called nesting actually. I can’t seem to want to do anything other than get the house ready for this baby.”

“That’s understandable.” Pulling a barstool out, I sit. I’m hoping she won’t notice my bouncing knee. I’m not foolish enough to believe it will stop until I hear from Tate.

Leaning against the other side of the island, she asks, “How was your day?”

“I think it went well. Lara has two great choices. She only has to decide what’s most important right now. The rest she tends to fix and personalize. I was gone longer than expected, though. Have you heard from Tatum today?”Worst transition ever.

She starts to laugh, stirring the pot, and I wonder if it’s just the soup by how she glances at me out of the corners of her eyes. “She was meeting with a client today. I haven’t gotten an update all day.” Setting the spoon down, she continues, “Some clients like to be babied and decide every detail instead of letting us do our job, especially with so much money involved. Others don’t want to think about a thing and let us handle it all. She’s working with the former, so I’ve not heard anything from her. It seems you two are finally getting along.”

“A lot of years and troubles have flowed under our bridge, but . . .” I chuckle, smiling ear to ear. “Yeah, we’re getting along.”

I understand her curiosity in how Tatum and I made amends. I also get that Tatum’s her best friend and most likely tells her everything.

“Yesterday was good?” she asks.

“It was a great day.” I shrug, feeling a little gun-shy to reveal too much. “Things between us are evolving. Yesterday helped.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Harrison. For both of you.” She looks around as if she’s checking for eavesdroppers, and then says, “Tatum’s birthday is in two weeks.”

And there’s the gut punch. “She didn’t tell me.”And I hadn’t asked.It’s obvious we still have ground to cover if we are going to move forward.

“She usually loves making a big deal out of it and celebrating all month long. But this year, she’s been silent, so I’m not sure what’s going on. Maybe the situation with her mom, but I’d love to surprise her and do something to show we care.”

“So you want to have a party?”

“Yes, and I’m hoping you can help keep her off the scent.”

“I’ll do whatever you need.”What do you buy the woman who not only has everything but can buy anything she wants? On top of that, she’s a professional gift-buyer. I’m so screwed.

“I was thinking it could be the week of her birthday, but on Tuesday night, instead of Thursday when she’ll expect it. I know a Tuesday is a weird night for a party, but she doesn’t have anything scheduled as of right now. I think it’s the only way to pull this off. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a good plan. You said it’s that Thursday?”

I try to ignore the all-knowing grin. I just need the details. Not the side of sass.

“It sure is,” she says.

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