Page 60 of Brooklynaire
Lauren picks that moment to return. She hands Stew a beer, and me a fresh Diet Coke. She’s drinking orange juice and holding a bag, which turns out to contain three hotpretzels.
“Yum,” Stew says. “Thanks!”
“You didn’t have to bring me anything,” I say, breaking off a corner of thepretzel.
She hands me a little cup of mustard. “Don’t worry. You paid for it. I’m just trying to make you look a little less gloomy. Is itworking?”
“Sure,” Ilie.
But after that chat with Stewart, I’m pretty sure I’ll be gloomy as hell for a whilenow.
* * *
In better news,my team clinches the game a half hour later, with one more goal on a power play. And since the next two games will happen in Brooklyn, we’ll have a chance to lean into the home iceadvantage.
That night Stew and I fly back on theGulfstream.
It’s late and he doesn’t try to talk to me about Rebecca anymore. So I’m grateful. When we reach cruising altitude, we change into sweats and recline our seats to flat, hoping to catch a couple hours of sleep. We’re scheduled to land at three in themorning.
I dim the cabin lights and close my eyes. Now that I’m on my way back to New York, it’s even harder to pack away my thoughts of Becca. Our night together plays like a film in my mind. That tiny scrap of silk and lace she’s wearing when I wake her up. Our strange argument, and the kiss I give her so that she’ll stop askingquestions.
Her lips parting under mine, and my first taste of her. She straddles me andmoans…
Goddamn it was good. No—great. For both of us. Her eagerness meant everything to me. But now Becca isn’t exactly burning up the airwaves to tell me she can’t wait to do itagain.
Not a greatsign.
You’d think I’d learn. After my ill-advised night with Alex, I should knowbetter.
The two nights had nothing in common, though. Rebecca lit me on fire when she moved against me. The sounds she made I won’t everforget.
It wasn’t just me, damn it. She loved every minute ofit.
So where isshe?
I toss and turn until my jet touches down at LaGuardia in the wee hours. I say goodnight to Stew and climb into the car with Ramesh. It’s a rare traffic-free moment on the city’s clock, and he gets me home to Pierrepont Place in notime.
“That might be a land-speed record,” he says, pulling through to the mansion’s lockedgarage.
“Thanks, man. Sorry for the shittyhour.”
He yawns. “I’ll live. Night,boss.”
I feel his eyes on me as I activate the security system to let myself in the back door. He won’t lock the car and go upstairs to his apartment over the garage until I’m safelyinside.
This time when I walk into the kitchen, I only hear silence. I walk through to the parlor andlisten.
Nothing. And the locks engage around me with a deepclick.
I carry my suitcase upstairs and then wander through my own quiet house. “Welcome home, Nate,” Bingley says. “You’re the only one on thepremises.”
His pronouncement is a security feature. But it depresses me anyway. I don’t return the greeting because Bingley can’t get offended. “Engage all security systems,” I sayinstead.
“Systemsengaged.”
I drop my bags in my room. And then even though I know what I’ll find in there, I walk into the green bedroom. Sure enough, the bed is freshly made up, and all of Rebecca’s things have been removed from thebathroom.
That’s when I know with perfect certainty that I have absolutely fucked everything up. Rebecca is a trusted friend and an important employee. Now she’s not taking mycalls.
