Chapter Eight
Eight
“So where’s Mr.Kendrick tonight?” Geneva asked as we climbed into the back of the taxi.
“Ninetieth and Columbus and then onto Central Park West,” I said before settling into the hard leather of the seat.
Where was Kendrick? The last time I heard from him it was Madrid.
That was three days ago. We had had a small disagreement before he left.
It was something so silly that I couldn’t even think of what it was about now.
But I do remember that he’d said some hurtful things to me, which was not in character for him.
I put it on the stress that he’d been under.
I mean, being the second man in charge of an international multimillion-dollar real estate investment company was no walk in the park.
“Oh, he’s still out of town on business,” I said and turned my head toward the window.
“Oh,” Geneva said quietly and leaned back in her seat.
“You know, this love thing isn’t always easy,” I said, more to myself than to her.
Geneva patted my knee. “Is it ever?” she said and kind of chuckled to take some of the heaviness off the statement.
“Just once can’t it be?” I said, turning to her, hoping that she had an answer for me, but all she did was shrug her shoulders in ignorance.
I turned my attention back to the goings-on outside my window.
“Well, I thought you guys were so happy. What exactly is the problem?” Geneva asked.
Did I know the exact problem? No, I didn’t. It was just little things that I couldn’t even put my finger on.
But what I threw over my shoulder to Geneva was “It’s hard on me, him being out of town so often.”
“Yeah, I guess that is difficult,” Geneva said sympathetically. “But it’s not always going to be like that, Crystal.”
What else was it going to be like, and when? It’d been two years, and the only thing that changed was the amount of time we didn’t get to be with each other.
Maybe I was just being a brat, a baby, a spoiled little girl—a Chevy!
“Well, you know I’m here for you,” Geneva breathed as she patted my knee.
“I know you are.” I sighed and then tapped on the plastic protective shield that separated us from the driver. “You can drop me right here on this corner.” I dug into my wallet and pulled a ten-dollar bill out of it and handed it to Geneva.
“Why are you getting out here?” Geneva asked.
“Oh, I just need to walk some.”
Geneva gave my hand one good squeeze before taking the money and letting go. “Call me later?”
“I will,” I said as I climbed out of the cab and pushed the door closed behind me.