Page 162 of Forever Then

Chapter Fifty-Two

FOREVER AND THEN SOME

Gretchen

“You need a building with a doorman,”Drew demands.

“Doormen come with a price tag,” I retort, phone to my ear. Not even a thousand miles distance can keep my brother from his meddling tendencies. I roll my pointed eyes at Connor who snickers at the one-sided conversation he’s privy to. He pulls me against him and plants a kiss on my forehead.

“Small price to pay for your safety, Gretch,” my brother adds.

“I’m safe, Drew.”

“A young woman living alone in New York City is not safe.” There’s a scuffle over the line. “Ow, shit! Babe, that hurt.”

Reagan coming in clutch, as always.

“Okay, first of all, I hope there’s blood. Second of all, I told you I’ll probably end up living in Jersey.”

“Potato, puh-tah-to,” he singsongs, brushing me off. “You also need to live close to public transit.”

“Oh, so the subwayissafe now,” I reply, sarcasm thick.

“Lesser of two evils, Gretch. I’d rather you be on the subway ora bus instead of walking the streets alo—you know what, put your boyfriend on the phone!”

I snort and hand the phone to Connor. “The helicopter wants to talk to you.”

Noting the buildings that flank either side of the Greenwich Village street, I scan the awnings for the number we’re looking for. A necessary distraction from the fact that it’s almost five and I still haven’t heard about the job. The interview committee said they would get back with all the applicants before the end of the day.

The late-afternoon sun drops behind the multi-leveled structures, casting shadows on the sidewalks below, and the flurry of people on their commute home from their offices creates a hum of weekend-expectant energy buzzing through the streets.

Brick exteriors rise four—some five and six—stories high in this neighborhood, with metal terraces cascading up to the rooftops and fire escape ladders that connect them all one to the other.

Connor insisted I look at apartment options in Manhattan for comparison so I mapped out a few for us to tour today. There are some affordable options that I could make work here and the commute to Saks would be a breeze, but I already know I’ll get so much more apartment for my money in Jersey.

He’ll see the same value when we go there tomorrow. I know he will.

“I know,” Connor says. What my brother has him agreeing to, I have no idea. “Yeah, I know…uh huh…okay.” He flashes his signature smile at me, all charm and affection, that says in equal partscan you believe this guy?andhow can you not love him?A smile that beams even brighter now that Drew has come to terms with our relationship.

I bring us to a halt outside our last stop of the day with a hand to Connor’s forearm. “I hear ya,” he says into the phone.

Done with this nonsense, I yank the phone from his hand and take matters into my own hands. “Ok, got it, all good here, time to cut the cord, loveyoubye.”

The third-floor apartment is decent enough. When the landlord steps into the hall to take a phone call, Connor smoothly asks what Ithink. He huffs a laugh at my noncommittal shrug. Three Manhattan apartment tours in and I’ve given the same response every time.

Apartment hunting in New York is a game of weighing price against location against square footage against amenities against storage against commute. When you’re on a tight budget, there’s unlikely to be one place that checks all your boxes and apartments get swooped up in the blink of an eye. There’s no “let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.” It’s cutthroat and competitive and you have to be ready to say yes when you come across a place that works.

“Do you like this one?” I ask. “You’ll have to look for your own place soon, too, you know.”

He hums thoughtfully but doesn’t answer.

After I politely pass on the apartment, Connor and I start the trek back to the hotel. Hand in hand on a bustling sidewalk in midtown, we’re only a few blocks out when my phone rings.

Butterflies take flight in my stomach. I almost drop the phone as I yank it from my back pocket in a panic, but Connor steadies me. “You got this.”

I could get lost in the pure confidence and love in his eyes. This man has always been my biggest cheerleader. No matter what news I get, I know he’ll wrap me in a hug, kiss me senseless and tell me he’s proud of me.

“Hello?” I say.

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