Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
Oh my god.
Holden wasn’t joking… he got me.
He so got me.
I stand outside of the infamous LaDuca shoe store, staring up at it in all its glory. Known for its beautiful Italian leather, LaDuca shoes have been a favorite of Broadway actors and dancers for decades. I’ve never actually owned a pair because I’ve barely made rent these last couple of years. Splurging on $300 character shoes hasn’t exactly been high on my to-do list.
Or on it at all for that matter.
Unfortunately, inside the store, it’s pitch black and a giant Closed sign adorns the locked front door. It’s well after their 6 p.m. closing time and yet Holden continues standing there, his hand in mine.
I look up at him, pushing onto my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “It was a sweet thought,” I say.
“Just a second.” Holden lifts his hand to the glass and gives a rhythmic knock.
My brows lift. “You think you can just knock and they’ll let you in four hours after closi?—”
Before I can finish my sentence, the door swings open and an older man is standing there to greet us with a huge, welcoming smile on his face. “Mr. James. Ms. Harris. I’m Sandy, your concierge tonight. Please, come in.”
Wide-eyed, I look at Holden. “He knows my name?”
“The store is opening after hours for us and the thing that impresses you is that he knows your name?” Holden asks with a little smirk.
It fully registers what Holden’s arranged for tonight as the men share a quick, cheeky smile before Holden simply gives me a wink, holding the door open. “After you.”
I enter the store behind Sandy, the threshold like a portal into a world of luxury and indulgence. The rich smell of leather washes over me like a warm embrace from a long-lost friend. Its earthy, comforting smell lingers in the air. Underneath it, I can detect a hint of sandalwood, adding a touch of warmth and sensuality to the air.
The door swings closed behind us with a soft click, muffling the sounds of the busy street outside. The only sounds now are our footsteps on the hardwood floor, and faint music playing from hidden speakers, creating a relaxing and intimate atmosphere.
“Mr. LaDuca sends his regrets that he can't be here tonight,” Sandy adds over his shoulder.
I feel Holden’s presence behind me just before he presses his mouth to the spot below my ear. Then, he whispers, “Don’t you remember?”
Of course I remember. I remember everything about Holden.
“Before your first Broadway show, I’ll take you to this LaDuca store and you can pick out any shoe you want.”
“I get to pick out any shoe here?” I whisper, looking around the shelves framing us.
“I’ll do you one better,” Holden says, his grin spreading wider. “I’m setting a timer for ten minutes. You have that amount of time to shop and try on shoes. After that, I’ll set another time for three minutes… and you can choose as many pairs that you can hold in your arms.”
My breath catches. As many shoes as I can hold? He’s talking about thousands of dollars of character shoes. “That’s too much?—”
Holden steps around in front of me to face me and gently catches my arms. “For what I did to you five years ago? I could buy you the entire store and it still wouldn’t be too much.”
I blink, emotion swelling inside of me as I shake my head. “Money can’t rewrite the past, Holden.” But leave it to a Dorsey to try.
“I know that. But gifts are my love language. Please let me do this for you.”
I nod with a single, small dip of my chin.
“Good,” Holden whispers and holds up his phone. “Your time starts … now .”
Exactly twelve minutes later, an alarm blares through the store and Holden approaches me, his eyes flicking down to the single shoe box I hold in my hands. A simple pair of nude t-strap heels.
“Seriously? One pair?”
“This is all I need.”
His lips curve up, revealing perfectly white teeth and dimples in his cheeks. His eyes crinkle at the corners, the soft light catching the angle of his jaw, highlighting its sharpness and the dimple in his chin. He stands tall with confidence, exuding a natural charm that makes my heart skip a beat.
“Sandy, can we add the black boots and the black hard soles as well to this order?”
“ Holden —”
“Katherine,” he stops me, brushing a piece of fallen hair off my forehead. “Please. Let me do this for you.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket. “Besides, we can expense it for the show.”
“Like my rent?” The question is out before I can stop it and I wince, hating myself a little for ruining this otherwise wonderful evening.
His smile fades, transforming into a curious question as he slides his credit card across the counter towards Sandy. “Yeah, I guess… why?”
Dammit. I look down at my feet and scuff them along the stunningly glossy hardwood floors. “I got a letter from USEA the other day.”
“About your rent?”
Before I can nod, Sandy excuses himself. “I’ll go wrap up the shoes for you.”
Once he ducks into the back room, Holden spins to face me. “Katherine, what’s going on?”
After a deep breath, I fill him in on everything within that letter.
Splotches of red warm his cheeks. “Misappropriation of funds? They said that?”
Again, I nod. Holden scrubs a hand over his jaw with an exhale. “I’ll call USEA. I’m sure this is some stupid mistake. Plenty of shows pay for their actor’s housing?—”
“Yeah,” I interrupt. “Famous actors that they bring in from out of town to star in a show to boost ticket sales. Not a nobody actress plucked from obscurity who already lives in the city.”
“But—”
“Holden, it’s not worth the fight with USEA.”
He’s quiet for a moment, staring at me. “I know you won’t let me cover this cost for you?—”
“ Absolutely not! I have more money saved now that I’ve had a few regular paychecks with the show. Unfortunately, not a year’s worth. But I emailed my landlord?—”
“Ah, the lovely Ms. Greene,” Holden says through a grin. “My number one fan.”
I roll my eyes despite him. “Anyway, she agreed to refund the money to the production company as long as I sent in three months rent in advance and a copy of my contract for the show.”
“You have three months in advance saved?”
“Almost.”
Sort of.
We’re silent for two beats until Sandy comes out with a large bag in hand. He hands it to me, but Holden takes it before I can. Then, he holds out his free hand for me to take.
“Are we going to talk about the other thing?” I say as we make our way to the door. “About… Jamie?”
I feel him go more tense at the mention of the little boy who may or may not be Holden’s son.
“Not yet,” he says tightly, holding the door open for me. Then, he asks, “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Let’s grab dinner and talk there.”
“Okay,” I say as we pause at the corner. Half a block away, I can see Holden’s limo making its way through traffic toward us. “Where do you want to go?”
Reaching into the shopping bag, Holden pulls out a box of Magnolia cupcakes that Sandy clearly had stashed inside the bag while Holden and I were talking.
Gently, Holden shakes the box of cupcakes, a cute, boyish grin transforming him back to the adorable dimpled college senior I’d fallen in love with years ago. “I was thinking?—”
“Grand Central Station,” I whisper. Stepping forward, I push onto my toes, pressing my lips to Holden’s.
He gasps into the kiss, unable to pull me closer with his hands full.
“I love it, Lights,” I whisper against his mouth.
“I love you , Rose.”