Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
I arrive at the beautiful high rise on Columbus Circle and glance at the scribbled address in my hands.
Missy’s apartment isn’t what I thought it’d be. Not even close. It took a bit of coaxing to get Maggie to give it to me, but I’d assured her I wouldn’t do anything to get her into trouble.
I hate that I need Missy right now. But Holden can’t get Megan to answer his calls. And if he can’t find her with all of his resources, then there’s only one person who knows how to get to her.
And it’s the one person who got to her in the first place.
I enter through the floor to ceiling glass doors and make my way over to the doorman. “I’m here to see Missy Howl.”
“Is she expecting you?”
I shift uneasily on my feet, for the first time realizing that this plan might be a little stupid. She may not even be home. “Not… exactly.”
“Name and identification.”
Make that a lot stupid. I can’t even get away with lying if I have to show ID. “Um… Kate Harris.” I mumble and slide my driver’s license across the marble counter to him. He types a few things into the computer, then lifts the phone and shuffles a few steps away from me, murmuring quietly off to the side.
My heart sinks as he steals a glance at me from over his shoulder. Finally he hangs up and hands me back my license. “Penthouse,” he says with a nod toward the elevators.
I stare at him, mouth gaping open. “W-what? She… she agreed to see me?”
“She did,” he says simply, then gives me an odd look. “And I suggest you take her up on it before she changes her mind.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice.
I rush for the elevator and duck inside, hitting the button for the Penthouse.
The elevator ascends swiftly, the marble walls and gold trim glinting in the soft lighting. I fidget with the strap of my purse, unsure what awaits me at the top. The doors slide open and I step out into the wide entryway. Priceless artwork adorns the walls and lush rugs cover gleaming hardwood floors.
"Missy?" I call out tentatively.
There's no answer. I peek into the rooms off the foyer - a dining room, sitting room, and a library. All are empty. Where is she?
I start up the staircase. At the top is a long hallway lined with doors. One of them has to lead to Missy.
As I walk down the hall, I hear music drifting from behind one of the doors. I stop outside and knock gently. The music stops.
"Come in," calls a melodic voice.
I push open the door into a music room. Missy sits at an elegant grand piano, her fingers resting lightly on the keys. Her casual dress of only a white tank top and jeans is at odds with the formality of the penthouse. Her hair spills freely over her shoulders as she smiles up at me.
"Well, well, if it isn't little Kate Harris," she says with a sly smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I perch nervously on a tufted velvet bench as she regards me with curiosity. Her violet eyes are piercing but not unkind.
I take a deep breath, trying to appear more confident than I feel. "I need your help finding Megan. I know you two have a… a history. Please, if you know where she is, tell me. I'm desperate."
Missy raises one perfectly groomed eyebrow. "And what makes you think I'd help you?"
“Well… there haven’t been any headlines. Nothing announcing Holden as a baby daddy. So, I thought… maybe?—”
“You thought maybe I had changed my mind? Maybe the wicked witch has a heart after all?”
I shrug and try to give her a smile. “Maybe this doesn’t have to be the Wizard of Oz. Maybe it can be Wicked. Where we’re friends… not enemies.”
Missy’s hand crashes down on the keys of the piano making a loud, unharmonious sound. “Except in Wicked, there’s still a fall guy. Despite being a good friend and a good person, Elphaba is still hated.” She abruptly stands up from the piano and crosses to the window, folding her slender arms. "I haven’t posted the headline yet because you haven’t been at rehearsal. There’s still time for you to hand that part over to me. Give me the part… and I’ll give you Megan.”
I suck in a sharp breath. I’d been prepared for this… and yet, I still wasn’t emotionally ready for battle. Maybe I never would be. Maybe it would never be my nature. “No,” I whisper.
At that single word, Missy whips around, her lavender eyes flashing with anger. “No?”
I hold firm, standing my ground with a simple shake of my head. “No. It’s my part. Not yours.”
Her gaze narrows creating little lines at the corners that I’m sure she’d quickly shoot up with Botox if only she saw them. “Fine. Then no Megan.”
“Wait,” I add. “I mean it when I say I don’t want to be your enemy. I have a friend and he’s a brilliant writer developing a new show. A contemporary Romeo and Juliet retelling. Keith?—”
“Landry,” she finishes. “ You know Keith Landry? Of course.”
“It’s a good show. Not a musical. But I know he’s searching for his next Julie. I can’t guarantee anything, and I certainly can’t promise you the part. But I can set up a meeting between you two. And who knows… if you’re not right for Remy and Julie, he might keep you in mind for something else.”
She folds her arms and levels me with another look. “And what’s to stop me from setting up this meeting myself and still posting the headline?”
“Because Keith is my friend. He trusts me. And if I tell him you lied, went back on your word, he’d never cast you in anything. We’ve both been down that road once before and he’s intent to only work with well-intentioned people.”
While Missy didn’t exactly fit that description, I meant what I’d said. I didn’t want to be her enemy anymore. I didn’t need to be her friend, either. But we could be something else entirely. We could be cordial. Professional.
Missy crossed to a small desk in the corner and grabbed her phone. After a quick moment, a text message pinged in my inbox with an airdropped message. “That’s Meg’s address here in New York.”
I suck in a sharp breath and stare at the East Village address. This whole time, Megan had been right under Holden’s nose, in his own city, potentially with his son.
I turn to run back onto the elevators, hearing the click of Missy’s footsteps behind me. As I get onto the elevator, her hand juts out, stopping the doors. “Don’t fuck me, Galinda.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Elphie.”
She releases her hold on the elevator and as the gold doors glide shut, I swear I see a little smile curve on her mouth.
I take the subway all the way down to first and first, then walk about fifteen blocks further east into Alphabet City. Decades ago, this used to be one of the scariest parts of New York; now it’s littered with hipsters and trustafarians. Bougie coffee shops line the streets as I walk toward Avenue D and a cute little playground is on the corner as my phone tells me my destination is only just ahead.
“Jamie!” A woman shouts from a bench overlooking the playground. “Not so high!”
“Aw, Mom!” a kid cries from the swings.
I blink, my footsteps halting. It… it can’t be.
Jamie… Jamie, the little boy with Holden’s chestnut brown hair and amber eyes.
And Megan. The woman who will be forever blended with whatever family Holden and I make.
She’s here, in front of me.
And I don’t even have to explain how I got her address. This could be a coincidence. I could be hanging out in the East Village, visiting a friend for all she knows.
I exit out of the destination on my maps app and stuff my phone deep into my purse, inhaling a slow, steadying breath, readying myself to go up to her.
A baritone male voice tears me out of my meditation. “I got you a lavender latte with almond milk.”
I know that voice.
I pry my eyes open in time to see Holden walking up to the bench with Megan and handing her a coffee cup from a tray.
“You remembered,” she says with a smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Of course. And I got a hot chocolate for the little guy.”
The world around me spins. The ground is replaced with the sky as I watch Jamie launch off of the swings and run toward Holden. “Hot chocolate!?”
He’s here.
He’s here with Megan.
And he didn’t tell me.
I take a few steps back, feeling suddenly like I’m intruding on an intensely private moment.
A father hanging out with his son for the first time.
But I also can’t look away.
Holden’s face splits into a glorious smile and he ruffles the kids hair in a tender display of affection.
In all my years knowing Holden, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile like that .
I take a deep breath to steady myself as I watch the scene unfold before me. Holden looks so happy, so at ease with Megan and Jamie. He's never looked that way with me. A part of me wants to march over there and demand an explanation, but I know that would only cause a scene and upset Jamie. As much as it hurts, I decide to leave quietly.
I turn and start heading back the way I came, tears stinging my eyes. I can't blame Megan or Jamie - they barely even know I exist. And despite the heartache I'm feeling, I can't begrudge Holden this chance to connect with his son. I only wish he had told me.
Wiping my eyes, I resolve not to confront Holden… not yet. Maybe not ever. I told him I trusted him and now is my time to prove that’s true.
I close my eyes as a fresh wave of pain washes over me. The crisp autumn breeze whispers through the rustling leaves, carrying with it a sense of change and transformation. I can't help but wonder if this is a sign of things to come, a reminder that even in loss there can be growth and new beginnings.
He'll tell me that he’s spending time with them when he's ready, I know he will. And I don't want to jeopardize his newfound relationship with Jamie. As much as it pains me, I love Holden, and I want him to be happy. I'll give him his space for now.
For today, I'll keep walking and let the tears fall. The future I thought we would have isn’t going to be, but maybe this new future will be even better. In time.
As long as we’re together.
As long as we’re honest.
I peek over my shoulder again at Holden, now pushing Jamie on the swings.
This man I love so deeply.
And yet still barely know.