Chapter 43
Lucy
“Is that Cole?” Aunt Ruby asks, her voice a bit muffled through the line.
I glance over my shoulder to find Nico pushing in through the front door, waving at me silently when he sees I’m on the phone.
His blonde hair hangs in slightly longer waves, his face flushed from the cold outside.
Even from here, I can feel the chill of it radiating from his coat, and don’t envy the guys for having to go out in this weather.
Technically, they don’t. They could work from home. But for Dane and Cole, going to the office is a necessity. A routine they couldn’t possibly break.
And Nico had a big meeting with a potential buyer for Ember today.
“No,” I say, turning back to the painting in front of me, the phone pinched between my ear and shoulder. “It’s Nico.”
Aunt Ruby grunts out a disappointed sound, and it makes me laugh.
I can picture the expression on her face right now—the pinched brow, down-turned lips.
The guys suggested that we all spend Christmas together, and despite the fact that I missed my siblings—and even my parents—it was a good time.
It was uplifting, in a way, to see this new family forming in the cracks of where my old one was.
Cole fell in love with Pudding, who, miraculously, also fell in love with him. She spent the entire evening curled on his lap, which endeared Aunt Ruby to him even more.
“He’s a smart cookie,” she’d said, gesturing with her bourbon and eggnog. “I like that.”
After that night, she’d made it clear that while she’s still carrying some caution about the whole situation, she’s happy for me. This city is full of unconventional love, and she’s not going to get in the way of mine.
“We’re not…” I’d stammered, wrapping my arms around myself, flushing at the mention of that word. Love.
But, for the first time, I really do feel like I could love them. Like this could be a future for me.
“Well, I’ll let you go,” Aunt Ruby says now, pulling me from my recollections and bringing me back to the present. “Surely Nico wants to whisk you off to a beach somewhere…”
I laugh, and Nico glances at me, clearly curious what’s being said. He has a sixth sense when it comes to other people talking about him.
When I tell her I love her and end the call, Nico perks up, “Who was that?”
“Aunt Ruby.”
He glowers, “She was teasing me, wasn’t she?”
I open my mouth to answer, but at that moment, the door opens and both Dane and Cole come in through the door. Dane holds a bottle of what looks like expensive wine, and Cole is carrying a vase of red flowers.
How he knows they’re my favorite, I’m not sure. I don’t think I ever told him.
“What’s all this for?” I ask, laughing and moving to them. The cold rolls off them. Dane sets the bottle on the counter and pulls me into a kiss, his lips cold, his tongue hot.
Cole kisses me after, hooking his arm around my waist and sliding his cold fingers up under my t-shirt. I shiver and smile against his lips, the tips of the roses rustling against my chest.
“Seriously,” I say, pulling back and taking the vase, setting it on the counter and watching as the two men unwind their scarves and remove their coats. “What’s all this for?”
Nico appears, and I realize he’s holding a small, wrapped package. “Guess we all had the same idea.”
My stomach flips, and for a second, I think this might be a proposal. Then I come back down to earth, realizing the guys would go for something bigger than flowers at home.
I take the box, heart still thudding. “And what would that be?”
Nico wraps his arms around me from the back and kisses my head, “That you worked really hard on your applications, and you’re still working hard. And we wanted to show our appreciation for how you’re adapting to life with us.”
Maybe he means basically moving into his place with the other two guys. Or, maybe he means not letting my family get between us. Whatever it is, it makes my heart squeeze.
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” I whisper, thinking and thinking the word love but not saying it. “First, because this is a life anyone would want to fold themselves into. And second, because… I love being around you guys.”
It’s close enough, for now, and it makes all three of them smile. It hits me that although I love seeing Cole and Nico smile, it’s Dane’s that feels the most precious. The most difficult thing to earn.
I love being around you guys isn’t what I really want to say. But I don’t because it feels too soon, and too fresh. The last thing I want is to be telling them I love them as a surrogate for my family.
Mary has been the only one to really respond to me, but she’s the only one of my siblings old enough not to be on my parents’ phone plan, which means the others likely had my number blocked without even knowing it.
It makes me sick to think about what my parents might be telling them. What they might be thinking about me. Maybe it’s wrong to think of a favorite, but the thought of Auggie cutting me off, never talking to me again—it makes my palms clammy.
“What should we have for dinner?” Nico asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. Their smiles are gone now, including Dane’s, and I realize they must be able to read the sorrow on my face.
I don’t want to be sad, don’t want to be grieving the connection with my family. It’s bittersweet to gain these guys at the same time I lose something just as vital.
“Let’s order in,” Dane says, neatly stacking his shoes in the organizer he bought for the closet, before stretching and twisting in his suit. The shirt comes untucked, and my eyes instantly dip to the strip of skin revealed.
I’m shameless.
“What?” Nico asks, his jaw moving on the top of my head. “You don’t like my cooking?”
“He just wants an excuse to try that Ukrainian place.”
“I’m craving pierogies.” Dane says. “So, we’ll order out.”
Dane and Cole disappear into the bedroom and bathroom respectively, to change out of their work clothes and use the bathroom. Nico, with his arms still around me, murmurs, “Are you going to open that gift, or what?”
I twist in his arms and look up at him. There’s some blonde fuzz on his jaw, and I love seeing it. A seven o’ clock shadow that only I get to run my fingers over. “You guys don’t have to buy me gifts all the time,” I whisper, looking up at him. He flattens his chin and stares right back.
“If you had all the money in the world,” he whispers, “you’d use it to pamper us, wouldn’t you?”
Functionally, with Dane’s credit card in my wallet, I do have all the money in the world.
And I’ve used it on more than one occasion to get something for them.
First edition comics for Cole. Special, imported dark chocolate for Dane.
A perfume for myself that smells like gardenias, since Nico loves them.
I’m wearing it now, and I feel him breathing me in, absorbing the scent.
I wonder if he recognizes I’m wearing it for him.
“Fine,” I laugh, wrestling out of his hold just enough to reach for the gift. It’s a small box with a sparkling gold ribbon, the kind that slides smoothly against itself. I’m careful in unraveling it, then pull the top from the box.
It smells expensive, like the heady, rich scent I recognize from the Ember offices.
“Nico,” I breathe, when I see the necklace nestled among the crushed velvet in the box. It’s a simple sterling silver chain with three little charms—D, N, and C. Each is set with a jewel, and I instantly recognize them as their birthstones.
“I wanted to just do the N,” he says, his breath hot against my neck, “but I figured Dane might take me to civil court.”
It makes me laugh. The kitchen is sweet, laden with the scent of the roses.
The wine will pair great with our take-out tonight, and I can already see the evening unrolling in front of us.
Sitting on the couch together, laughing, watching reality TV together even though they insist they don’t care for it.
Eventually, hands will wander. They’ll make me feel good, and I’ll touch, taste, feel them.
It’s perfect.
The moment I think it, I see the twins, my brothers and sisters, ache for the taste of my mom’s sweet potato pie, and my mind insists, nearly perfect, instead.
“Alright,” Dane strides back into the living area the way he left, his phone in his hand. “The food is ordered.”
“So, what should we watch?” Cole asks, emerging from the bathroom in the same shirt he was wearing earlier, now paired with sweats instead of jeans. “Star Trek?”
“No,” Nico, Dane, and I say together, and when Cole twists away, I realize what he’s doing.
“Get the remote!” I call, laughing, as I try to run in my socks on the hardwood, but can’t quite make it.
We dissolve into laughter, hurtling into the living room, wrestling for the right to choose our show. We’re all limbs, hot skin, tangled and breathing together.
And, no matter how much I miss my family, I know I wouldn’t trade a night like this for the world.
“Aidan—you remember the HR assistant from your first day?”
I wince, stirring my cocktail and glancing up at Julian. He’s dressed like himself, in a sheer floral top and dark pants. We’re at a fancy pop-up bar in the West Village, where he insisted we go out for drinks to improve the “worst month of the year.”
We got into the bar by taking stairs down to a basement door and knocking a certain way.
Now that we’re inside, Julian’s teeth glow under the black lights, and I can barely make out his face through the dark.
All the drinks are made with fluorescent glitter, so they’re more visible than the man sitting across from me.
There are fish bowls on the bar, and one of those old scuba masks hanging above our table. The whole thing kind of reminds me of a space-themed indoor mini golf course near Lancaster.
“Of course I remember him,” I say, returning my thoughts to the conversation and taking a sip of my drink. I never actually learned the assistant’s name. “He hated me.”
Julian frowns, “He did not hate you, the executive assistants were just in and out enough that there was no point getting to know you.” Julian pauses, takes a long drink of his neon green drink. It smells like apples. “Anyway, he started a betting pool. About why you were fired.”
My mouth drops open, “What? Isn’t that like, against the code of conduct?”
Julian raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say, isn’t sleeping with all three of your bosses against the code of conduct?
“Touché,” I mutter, pushing my hair over one shoulder. He insisted I leave it down, and it tickles on my bare skin in this dress, naked without the fur hanging on the back of my chair. “What are they saying?”
Shrugging, Julian says, “Depends on who you ask. Top runners are that you got Dane trapped in his plane, accidentally poisoned Cole with dairy milk. Oh—or that you spilled red wine on one of Nico’s nice silk shirts.”
“Okay, so everyone thinks I’m incompetent?”
“You’d rather they think you were sleeping with them?” Julian laughs, and I smack him lightly on the arm.
“Honestly, with such a massive blabber mouth here—” I give him a look, “I’m shocked that’s not already common knowledge.”
Julian mimes zipping his lips, which are now glowing green from his drink.
“I’ve said nothing, as much as that pains me.
But why do you care what they think about you?
You’re going to that art program at NYU, you’re going to be a famous artist with three very enthusiastic sponsors. No starving artist stereotype for you.”
I roll my eyes, even as my heart flutters again at the mention of my guys. Probably, I’ll never get used to the new reality of my life. “Thanks for the confidence, but it’s not likely that I’ll get accepted this time. I didn’t prepare much—”
“Okay, then you have the whole year to keep painting and submit again,” Julian points out. “I’d give anything for what you’ve got going on.”
I frown into my sparkling, swirling blue drink, remembering what he told me about his family. He’s lost them anyway, so what sacrifice would there be for him?
“Do you have, like, a passion?” I ask, before I can think it through.
Julian laughs, “Yeah, it’s totally being a project manager at Ember.
” He pauses, tries to take a drink, then seems to realize his glass is empty except for the ice.
“No, I mean, not like you. I just want to fall in love. Maybe adopt some kids, have a stable job in the city. See my friends. Be content.”
“That’s a tall order,” I laugh, and he follows suit. When the laughter dies down, Julian knocks his fist against the table and stands, asking if I want another drink. I pass him Dane’s credit card and he pretends to swoon, holding it against his chest.
Julian disappears into the crowd, jostling his way toward the bar, and I turn my drink around and around in front of me, watching the sweat from the glass smear over the black tabletop.
In every quiet moment, I think of my family.
And, as though I’ve summoned it just from thinking about her, my phone starts to buzz with a call from Mary.
Heart thudding, hands shaking, I try to scoop it up only to drop it on the table. Entire body thrumming with energy, I manage to right it, answer, and press it to my ear.
“Mary—” I start, but she cuts me off. Her voice is weird, tight and low, whispering and breaking at once.
“Luc,” she says, “I’m not supposed to be calling you. But I have to—I have to—”
Mary starts to cry, and I stand up, nearly knocking over my chair. I’m already gathering my things, shoving them back in my purse, ignoring the strange, questioning looks Julian shoots me on his way back from the bar.
“Mary, breathe,” I command, sounding a lot more put together than I am. I wish I was anywhere else—not in this noisy, crowded, glowing bar—to take this call. “What’s going on? Is it the babies? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she rasps, and then, her voice breaking, “Lucy, it’s Auggie.”