Page 93 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

“I’m not following.”

“I mentioned how Corbin and I have been communicating. He was talking about how helpful Garrett’s been and wanted my thoughts on promoting him. More details were shared, and we found that Garrett had not been working for our best interests. Only his own.” He sits on the window seat, and says, “None of that matters where you’re concerned. I just thought you should know that he was the one who put that list of companies together that would lose their funding cut. Whatdoesmatter is that Corbin scrapped that amendment and agreed to carry the loans for their term.”

I gasp, quickly covering my mouth. Lowering my hand, I feel my heart begin to race. “My loan is safe?”

He smiles, and it’s the most comforting sight I’ve seen since . . . well, since Nick and before my dad had the attack. He continues, “It is, but we’re still trying to finagle it out of the agreement. As for the details regarding Nick’s role in all this, I think you should ask him yourself. Just promise me you’ll be here for Thanksgiving. I have a lot to be grateful for and I know it will mean everything to your mom.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

I walk out calmly, but I’m overcome with emotions. I dash to the staircase and lean against the wall, the thoughts from Nick betraying me to loving the man more than anything spin in my head. I take my phone out and look at his last message:Please meet me. We can discuss it.

Do I owe him that opportunity or do it for myself?

This time, I know the answer.Both.

I’ve made a commitment to my dad to stay, but my heart is already halfway to LA.

32

Natalie

“I broughtyou a piece of pie, Natalie,” my mom says lightly as if she’ll wake me. Isn’t that the point of her bringing the pie? And why pie?

I glance toward the door. “It’s nine in the morning. On Thanksgiving. Shouldn’t we be eating that after dinner many hours from now?”

“We’re too tired from the tryptophan to enjoy it.” She takes a bite ofmypie before setting it next to her when she sits down on the mattress. “And you seem like you could use some pie.”

“Again, it’s nine in the morning.” I rub my eyes to clear away the sleep. “I haven’t even seen you before now.”

“Pie makes everything better.” Not letting the hour or that she’s sitting on my bed eating pie for breakfast like a crazy person deter her, she continues, “I was thinking about the holiday and how grateful I am for John’s recovery. Also, it’s been so nice to have my kids back under my roof again. I feel spoiled.”

The dreary winter day is all that filters into the dark room, not providing much light. I’m too tired to overthink everything as I have for the past week. I also once heard that confessions of the heart are allowed at early hours and can’t be held against you, so I whisper, “I’m grateful for Dad’s recovery, but otherwise, I’m struggling.” My dad made so much sense last week, but until I understand if Nick betrayed me, I don’t think I can forgive him, and that has weighed me down.

I could have called him, video-chatted online, or sent a carrier pigeon. There are a million ways to communicate, but words feel empty without action. I need to see him face-to-face, the same request he made of me, to read his eyes and watch his body language.

She rubs my leg. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I could make it better.”

“I know you would if you could, but this will pass. I know it will, but why does it have to hurt so much until it does?”

“Love works like that.”

Propping myself up on my hand, I ask, “Love? You say that as if you’ve known the loss I’ve felt all along.”

“No, I just finally figured it out. I’m sorry for not recognizing it sooner.”

“I haven’t been forthcoming because I felt caught.”

“Losing someone important to you is a terrible situation to be in.” She looks down, shaking her head. “Before you said he was your boyfriend at the hospital, I didn’t even know you were dating someone. What kind of mother doesn’t know who her daughter is dating? I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy with work?—”

“You don’t have to apologize. You’re my greatest role model. Your success and how you stay so stylish even with a busy schedule. Honestly, I never felt I could live up to that.”

Her smile is kind as she admires me, reaching to sweep loose strands of hair behind my ear, but she stops and doesn’t do it, letting them fall back down against my cheek. “You’re perfect the way you are, Natalie. I needed the strength of a partner to pursue my real dreams. You did it all on your own despite relationship obstacles and not using a dime of your trust fund.”

I roll my eyes. “Technically, I couldn’t. I can’t touch that until I’m twenty-five, remember?” Sitting up straighter, I add, “I’m glad I couldn’t, though. I’m proud of what I’ve created, and STJ is growing by leaps and bounds. We’re covering our expenses and starting to make money.”

“You’re a mogul in the making.” She takes another bite of the pie.

Flopping back to the mattress, I ask, “I thought that piece was for me?”

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