Chapter 25
Ishould have said I’d attend the accounting get-together. Instead, I stand outside the hotel entrance dressed in black, my hair up, a black baseball cap over my head. Because he had texted that they were going out for drinks afterward and he’d head home after that. And not come over.
I immediately biked down here. I’m not proud of myself.
I look at his text again. I could write back that I could meet him at his apartment after drinks. But that looks so possessive and pathetic. And this doesn’t?
I’m a cool cucumber. Not jealous at all.
Right now, I’m dressed more like a ninja character, though.
Some people exit through the glass doors of the Millennium Times Square Hotel lobby. I’m across from the entrance, sitting on my bike seat, slightly hidden by the O’Donoghue’s Bar restaurant shed. The sidewalks are crowded with people rushing to the theater. I don’t want to get closer, given how good William is at sussing me out.
Maybe I should have insisted that he invite me for the drinks portion and officially introduce me as his girlfriend. Then again, maybe they’re still discussing accounting. I can only hope. I would’ve never thought I’d be dating an accountant.
As long as William isn’t wondering why he is dating me. Why is he dating a waitress and rock band singer? I’m not sure I can even claim to be an artist.
It’s not that I don’t trust him. What did he mean he can’t always trust his feelings? How can I trust his feelings then? If he contrasts me with Kiyoko, he might come to his senses and realize that she might be the better deal—more compatible in the long run. And the fact that he wasn’t willing to tell Kiyoko that I was his girlfriend at the karaoke, even though he was so passionate afterward, is not reassuring.
My phone beeps. I read the text, keeping an eye on the entrance.
Tessa’s law firm offices are located in Times Square.
I look over at the entrance.
William’s tall frame is easy to spot in the crowds. Walking my bike, I trail after him and Kiyoko, staying on the sidewalk opposite them. It’s difficult to maneuver here walking a bike, but it’s too crowded to cycle the wrong way against the east-going traffic. One guy curses me as I try to pass by with my bicycle.
“Love you too, buddy,” I say.
I sidestep around the man holding the Hop On, Hop Off bus sign.
They now wait at the streetlight. It’s just William and Kiyoko. I’d feel better if it was a group. I should text some stimulating accounting questions for discussion. For example, can you take a stolen painting as a loss on your taxes? How do you value it?
A line snakes outside Carmine’s. I walk my bike in the street because there’s no room on the sidewalk. They are now ahead of me, walking by the Schubert Theatre. He ducks his head to listen to what she is saying. I bump the bike back onto the sidewalk, walking under the yellow signs that say Now Playing in black capital letters. Once I pass the theaters, I get back in the street and bicycle the wrong way to catch up to them.
At Eighth Avenue, they turn right to walk uptown. I text Tessa. At least now I can ride with the traffic in the bike path across the street. Still, between the traffic and cars suddenly turning, I have to pay attention to biking. They finally head into Social Bar and Grill. I stop a little down the block and wheel the bike into a space between parked cars to text Tessa.
“Miranda!” Tessa shouts from down the block. She runs up.
“How’d you get here so fast?”
“I left as soon as you texted,” Tessa says.
“I’ve got to return the bike,” I say. “Do you want to go inside? Don’t let them see you.”
“There’s only so much I can disappear,” she says wryly, “but I will stay in the front and hope they’re in the back.”
I cross the street and slot the Citi Bike into the rack, pushing hard to make sure it registers as returned.
I shouldn’t be spying on him. I don’t know what I’m doing. I trust him.
I slip through the door and look for Tessa.
But no single women grace the high tables in the front—only couples. I order a beer. TV screens showing an NBA game dominate the space. The conversations are loud. Next to me, at the bar, a group of men argue about a bad call. This place definitely does not have a romantic vibe. I smile.
“Miranda!” Tessa waves from a table where she’s sitting with a guy. I walk over with my beer.
“Miranda, this is Ron.” Tessa raises her glass of beer. “He just bought me a drink, but I explained that we’re having a girls’ night out, so we’re not meeting guys.”
“And I have a boyfriend,” I say primly.
“But I don’t,” Tessa says cheekily. “Here, I’ll take your number.”
“Don’t you want me to take your number?” the guy asks.
“No, I like to be the one to make the decision whether to call,” Tessa says.
He does a double take but smiles and gives Tessa his number.
Tessa takes his number, and he returns to his friends at the bar.
“He’s cute,” I say.
“Not bad.”
“He just walked over here?”
“No,” Tessa says. “I spotted him when I walked in. I held eye contact for just a bit too long. But then I ignored him when I went to get a drink. I thought I should take advantage of actually being out at a bar.”
“You should.”
“Here’s to personal interaction.” She clinks my glass. “I haven’t been to a bar in so long.”
“I love it when it works.”
“Why are you spying on William?” Tessa asks. “You don’t seriously believe he’s going to cheat on you with this other woman, do you?”
“No,” I say. “He wouldn’t cheat. But Kiyoko likes him. Uncle Tony said that he was interested in Kiyoko initially and was hurt when she rejected him. If she makes a good case for dating her, he might break up with me.”
“I doubt it. Take some credit for being hard to give up. How do you know she’s interested?”
I explain the whole karaoke night.
“He should have made it clear that you were dating.”
“That’s partially why I’m worried. I said not to tell anyone, but I wonder if he’s just using that as a convenient excuse.” I play with the plastic placard listing special drinks. “I thought I was pretty clear that it was specific to my family.”
“Still, if she is interested, I’m sure she picked up the vibe between you two.” Tessa leans back against the wall. “It was getting pretty smoky out at Fire Island.”
“I did sing ‘Fire for You’ to him.” I grin. “And he insisted we leave after that. But that’s just it. If I were her, and I thought I was about to lose my chance, I’d tell him I like him.”
Tessa smiles. “Miranda, you’d tell him you like him even without that push.”
I laugh. “You’re right. I would. I’d always rather tell the person than have any regrets. But even more so if I think another girl is interested. Unless it’s absolutely clear that he’s not interested back. In which case, I will hold back—sometimes.”
“Wasn’t it clear that he was interested when you were out singing karaoke?”
“It wasn’t. He’s not super demonstrative in public—unlike Rex,” I say. “And I felt like that night he was being careful not to give any impression that we were anything more than friends. Until the end when we left.” A shout erupts from the bar. Some team just scored.
“Still, what is spying going to solve?”
“I’m a total idiot, aren’t I?” I bite my lip. “I wanted to see if I could pick up any vibe of interest from William and prepare myself emotionally if he was going to dump me. But I was too far away to see anything. But hey, I get to have drinks with you, so it worked out in the end.”
“It’s impossible to prepare emotionally for that,” Tessa says. “You didn’t see them touching, right?”
“No touching,” I say. “As far as I could tell anyway—in between dodging pedestrians and cars. I should have ditched the bike.”
“Did you tell Peter that you were dating William?”
“Of course.”
“How did he take it?”
“Hard to tell on the phone,” I say.
Ron walks back over with another guy. This other guy is tall, fit, cute—but not as attractive as William.
“Hey, we were just talking, and I thought I needed to give you a little more incentive to call me,” Ron says. “This is my friend Devon.”
Devon nods hello. He looks like he’s been dragged here to keep me occupied while Ron chats up Tessa. He doesn’t make eye contact and is checking out the two women seated a few tables away.
Ron pulls an empty barstool from the table next to us, and Devon leaves to find another chair. Or maybe another woman. He skips over the table with a man and a woman and asks two women if he can borrow their extra chair. He’s very chatty with them. He lugs the chair over to our table and places it next to me.
The tables are made for just two, so with two tall men sitting here, it’s crowded. I shift my chair closer to the wall. I’m happy to play wingman for Tessa, but Devon is sitting like a lump next to me. I try to strike up a conversation.
“Were you watching the game?” I motion to the flatscreen hanging on the wall near the bar.
“No.” He sips his beer.
I sip my beer, thinking of other conversation topics.
“What do you do?” he asks.
“I’m an artist,” I say.
“An artist?” His face wrinkles up like he just ate a pickle.
Tessa interjects, “Her work has been on the subway.”
“The subway?” He emphasizes the sub as if it is subpar. “Like a graffiti artist?”
I laugh. “No. Like the upcoming Vertex Art Exhibit.”
“Oh,” Devon says. “Can I get you guys a beer refill?”
Tessa looks over at me. If she’s really interested in Ron, I should go home.
“Miranda.” A familiar voice cuts through the bar conversations. William is standing there with Kiyoko.
I stand quickly, pushing my chair out in a hopeless attempt to look less like I’m having a romantic tête-a-tête in the corner here. But of course, that only makes me look more guilty.
“William, I met Tessa here for drinks.” I should have texted him that.
Kiyoko’s not smiling and her eyes look sad. If she did say she liked him, it doesn’t seem like it went well.
I want to make it clear that I said I had a boyfriend to these guys. “And this is my boyfriend, William.”
Tessa says, “William, it’s good to see you again. I asked Miranda to come meet me for drinks. And this is Ron and Devon, whom we just met, but we told them that we were having a girls’ night out.”
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Ron says. “Text me.” He holds up his phone. Ron just scored some emotional intelligence points. He and Devon head back to the bar.
“Hi, Kiyoko,” I say. “This is my friend Tessa.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m going to leave first. It’s been a long day. Bye, William. Thanks for the drink.” She walks out.
“I’m heading home. Are you staying longer?” William asks.
Tessa smiles at me.
I say, “No, I’m free to go home now. We had a good girl talk.”
The three of us walk out and head to the Fiftieth Street subway station. I take William’s hand, happy to be going home with him. I hug Tessa goodbye as we separate to go on the downtown train while Tessa heads to the uptown platform.
Our subway comes immediately. There are no seats, so I follow him into the middle of the car. As we grab hold of the pole, my hand touches his for a second, but he moves his hand away.
“How was the conference?” I ask.
“Fine.”
“I told that guy I had a boyfriend. I was only being Tessa’s wingman.”
“I know. That’s not why I’m upset.”
“So you are upset,” I say slowly.
“A little.” He keeps his gaze trained on the subway posters.
The subway seems to take forever to get to Franklin Street, William’s stop.
We step out.
“Should we walk to the river?” William asks. “It’s still nice out.”
That seems like a good sign.
We walk, not talking, to the riverfront where we cross the bike path and stand by the balustrade overlooking the Hudson. I glance at him, but he’s looking straight ahead. He’s also not holding my hand.
William turns to me. “Did you follow me there?”
It could have been coincidence that we ended up there, given that Tessa works in Times Square, but I’m not going to lie to William.
“Yes,” I say. “It was stupid of me.”
“I opened up Google Maps to check the bar address and I saw you following me. Don’t you trust me?”
“I do trust you.”
“Do you?” He runs his hand through his hair.
“I didn’t think you’d cheat on me or anything. But I don’t trust Kiyoko. She likes you.”
“Even if she likes me—I’m dating you.”
“It was really stupid of me,” I say. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t spy on you in the bar. I just caught up with Tessa once we got inside. We really did have a girls’ night out then.”
“But relationships are about trust. You know that. If we don’t have that foundation, I don’t know how this works.”
My breath hitches. I was a fool. “I know. It’s really not that I thought you would cheat on me with her.”
“Then what was it?” he asks.
“I was worried that she would tell you she liked you. You used to have feelings for her. I didn’t know if maybe those feelings were stronger than what you have for me now.”
He rubs his forehead. “How’d you know Kiyoko would do that?”
My intuition was right about that at least.
“It was pretty obvious at karaoke.”
“I thought I made it obvious when I left with you,” he says. “You could have warned me. What the hell? First, she tells me I’m absolutely not her type. Then she sings a whole bunch of love songs to me, and now she tells me she made a huge mistake.”
I take this in. “I felt it was her place to tell you, not mine.”
“Should I worry about you and Rex then?” he asks.
“No, I’m over Rex,” I say.
“But by your logic, your relationship history is a lot longer and deeper with Rex.”
“I didn’t say that my stalking you today was logical,” I say. “But it’s also different. The way Uncle Tony said it, it was like you’d really liked Kiyoko but she wasn’t interested. So now if she is interested, maybe you’ll be interested. Whereas with Rex, yes, we have a very long history. But I don’t have any regrets that I missed out on something with him—or thoughts that it will work out.”
“I see,” William says. “Uncle Takashi and Tony seem to think I’m really some emotional wreck.”
“Maybe they were pouring it on thick to persuade me not to date you.”
We both stare out at the lights of New Jersey across the river, breathing in the salty air. I don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.
“You thought I would dump you to date Kiyoko if she said she liked me?” he asks. “That’s almost worse than the lack of trust. What kind of guy would I be then?”
That is worse. And William is such a good guy. My face crumples. I need to save this.
“I know, and I understand your disappointment with me. I don’t want to be this person. This is not me.” I grab his hand to will him to understand. His hand is cold in my grasp. And suddenly, I realize that the reason we’re not in his apartment is because he doesn’t intend for me to sleep over. It’s easier to break up with someone when they’re not in your apartment. I know that from my own experience. “This is not me.”
“This isn’t you.” He takes a deep breath and looks away.
I sniff. I want to cry, but not in front of William. I can’t help it. A tear escapes.
“I’m going to go home now,” I say.
“I’ll walk you to the subway,” he says.
A gentleman to the end.
“To be honest, I’d rather you didn’t,” I say. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me walk alone. I need to reset.”