Page 14 of It's Not Over (Paths to Love 1)

“Believe me, someday you will.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s part of being in a relationship. Even when you don’t want to, inevitably you end up saying something to hurt the person you love. It’s called being human.”Who the fuck is talking? Because it sure as hell doesn’t sound like me.

Giselle seemed to be drinking in the advice I was dishing out. Fuck if I wasn’t speaking from the heart to a girl who was young enough to be my daughter. Maybe I needed to get this shit out. Or maybe I was hoping it would work out for her because of something I’d said.

“I still want to model for the company Elan works for. I want to secure that before I get Scott back. That way no one can ever say I got it because of him.”

I understood what she was saying. Before I discounted Giselle’s feelings as nothing more than puppy love, I had to remind myself Vivian had been only a few years older than Giselle when we met. “Think about that very carefully,” I warned, and her brow furrowed. “What’s most important to you? Scott or your career? If you wait until you get the job, the guy might not be around anymore.”

“My dad’s a pretty cool man, but when we talk, it’s nothing like this,” she commented, and I bit my tongue. Giselle hadn’t meant to insult me, but in essence she had put me in the same age group as her father. Who was ten years my senior. I shook it off, again reminded of Vivian. If she’d heard that she’d have been laughing her ass off.

“We’re having an adult conversation,” I said, a little snidely. If she was going to insinuate I was old, I’d let her know how young she was to me.

“Can you get me in?” It always came down to this—what I could do for someone else.

“It’s your lucky day. I’m tight with the owner, and he owes me a favor.” Giselle beamed. “But don’t make me look bad. You get sloppy on the job, don’t do what’s expected of you, you’ll be stuck with Tractor Queen.”

“Yes, sir.”

Her calling me sir made me feel like an old man yet again. “Career first?” I asked for confirmation. She looked confused, her nose scrunched in deep thought. “You don’t have to decide now.”

“What would you do?” That caught me completely off guard.

“If I were in your shoes? And you think this thing with Scott is the real deal? As in you don’t function without him?” She nodded vigorously. Fuck, I was jealous of a kid. If Giselle played her cards right, she’d have her other half for the next sixty plus years because she was lucky enough to have found him early on. “I’d choose Scott.”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected me to say that, but it was the truth. Even if Giselle had been dirt poor, I’d tell her to go for happiness. I had more than I could ever spend. It might as well be play money. There was always the possibility for more money. Love…it was as elusive a motherfucker as time.

Giselle chewed on her lip, and then her phone was out of her purse and pressed to her ear. “Scott,” she said quietly when he apparently answered. I stood and pointed toward the bar. She nodded.

I’d never been able to figure out why it was so much easier to help other people with their problems than it was to solve my own. Even in my shitty mood, I sincerely hoped it worked out for the girl. Not as much as I wished things could have worked out for me and Vivian, but I had to stop thinking like that. The sooner I accepted that she was out of my life, the better off I’d be.

Giselle practically skipped over to me, a glow on her face. “We’re going to meet. To talk.”

“That’s great,” I said, though it sounded hollow.

“I have to go, but thanks, Daniel.” Her arms went around my neck a second time, and she pressed a kiss to my cheek. Too close. Too personal. I bristled, but she seemed oblivious. “Hey,” she said before turning to go. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Why I hadn’t seen it before didn’t matter. Giselle had just given me an idea for the next phase of my plan. “Actually, yes. There is.”

Chapter Eight

Vivian

Present

It wasa little after four when I couldn’t take being cooped up in the office any longer. Five days without Daniel and I was slowly unraveling. Once I was outside, I sucked in a long breath of cleansing air before taking off down the sidewalk. I didn’t want to go back to the apartment, so I decided to wander, hoping a walk might clear my mind.

Without thinking, I took the familiar L train to a place I hadn’t been in a long time. The old neighborhood was calling me.

East Ninth Street was almost the same, though a lot less trash littered the sidewalk, and the buildings had more shine than they’d had almost eight years before. I actually smiled as I approached the door, noticing the ‘For Rent’ sign taped to the glass pane on the inside. I stared at it, for a moment considering that I was losing my mind coming back here. This was where it had all started, my first apartment in New York City.What am I doing?The door flew open and a familiar face nearly knocked me down.

“Jesus!” my old landlord uttered, remaining in my personal space, causing me to take a step backward on the stoop. If Muriella had been here with me, she would have crossed herself. I did it for her in my head. His beady little eyes narrowed. “Hey…I know you.” He shook a crooked finger at me, a greasy strand of what remained of his hair falling over his eyes. “You’re the one who paid for a whole year of rent up front. Only time that’s ever happened. I felt kinda bad when you moved out early. Not bad enough to refund the money, but you know…” He shrugged, and I pasted a polite, no-nonsense smile on my face. “You here for the apartment? It’s available again.”

Am I here for the apartment? “Maybe. Mind if I have a look around?”

“Help yourself.” He led me up six flights of stairs at a snail’s pace.

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