Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
MAIA
A fter our conversation, I leave Gatsby’s home.
My head is about to explode with all the information I’ve gathered from him, my parents, Tiggy…it’s a cycle that began last week, and it continues. I need a break, or I might end up having a nervous breakdown.
I take a cab back to the hotel. When I arrive at the suite, Suzie and her family play and laugh in the shared living room.
I love my best friend. Her family is adorable but having them here makes me feel like I’m interrupting their time together.
I’m an intruder in my own room. I change my clothes for something more comfortable—a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and walking shoes.
I head toward the door when Suzie acknowledges me. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to meet with Cee-Cee,” I lie.
And maybe this is my problem.
I keep lying to everyone, so I don’t upset them or hurt their feelings.
I stay on the outskirts of every relationship. It’s a habit I’ve had while growing up. This is what made me the good daughter, the best granddaughter, and the favorite niece. I always pleased everyone.
Gatsby was the only person I’ve opened up to, and maybe it’s because he made me feel safe. I knew in my heart that he loved me enough to accept me the way I am.
“Don’t stay up,” I say as I make my way out.
“Okay, if you need anything, you’ll tell me, right?”
No, I probably won’t, but instead of telling her the truth, I say, “Of course,” and shut the door behind me.
The elevator is empty when I step in, but it begins to fill with people as we go down. It’s not until I reach Park Avenue that I pull out my phone and call Cee-Cee.
“Is everything okay?” she asks instead of greeting me.
“Of course.”
“Why are you calling instead of texting?”
“I’m in New York.”
“Okay?”
“I was hoping to see you.”
“Let’s meet on Sunday. You can take me for brunch and then shopping. I need new clothes.”
“I want us to talk, Cee-Cee.”
She gasps. “Are you dying?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“You’re always busy, ignoring us. I assume there must be something important if you need to meet with me—in person. Don’t tell me you can’t pay my tuition. I mean, it’s my senior year.”
I stare at my phone, shocked and angry. She could’ve told me that today isn’t a good day.
I would understand. After all, this is an impromptu call.
Yet, there’s a huge difference between I can’t meet you today and making me feel as if the only reason I’m worth keeping around is to pay her room and board.
“No. I’m calling because I’m in town, and I feel fucking lonely. Stupidly, I thought that maybe someone would give a shit about me—like my sister. But don’t worry about your tuition. It’ll be paid in full.” I hang up and put my phone away.
“Rough night, huh?” I jolt at the sound of the voice. When I turn, I see him. Gatsby.
He’s no longer wearing the suit that made him look fuckable, just a shirt and a pair of jeans. His dark hair falls over his forehead, almost covering his eyes.
He looks a lot like the guy I used to know. The one I fell in love with all those years ago. But we’re different people, broken and…I don’t even know what to make of myself.
“I’ve had better,” I say, sounding almost normal. Though, the anger simmers underneath the surface. “Why are you here?”
He shrugs, staring at the hotel and then at me. “Because I know you’re fucking lonely, and I do give a shit about you.”
His words might sound casual, but the meaning behind them is almost cathartic. A declaration, like the one he did in his house only hours ago—if not just minutes.
He loves me.
The Gatsby I knew would do anything to make sure I was okay, just as I did with him. But are we capable of loving each other again?
It feels like forever since we spoke. The memories of who we were and what’s been happening between us seem to be mixing with each other. I need to remind myself that we’re different people. We aren’t in love with each other.
But what if?
“How did you know I’d be here?”
A sudden smile lingers at the corner of his sexy mouth. “Maia logic.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re unsettled, meaning it’s going to be hard to fall asleep, but you’re mentally exhausted. The hotel room is uncomfortable?—”
“Try busy. I reserved a junior suite with two bedrooms. My best friend brought her family, and I felt…like an intruder. And jealous. She has something I thought I would have by the age of thirty-two. I don’t even know if I want it anymore.
Lately…I love what I do, and it’s fulfilling to an extent…
I can’t call anyone to tell them that I?—”
“Feel lonely?”
“You make me sound pathetic.”
“That’s how I feel most of the time when I’m not in San Fran or Paradise Bay, but you know what’s worse?”
“No?”
“That even though I can go there seeking the company of my family, I avoid going home.”
I scowl at him. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Nope.” He eyes my phone. “So, who did you call that made you want to throw the phone against the pavement?”
“Cee-Cee.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry she didn’t want to see you.”
“It’s probably my fault because I pushed everyone in my family away.”
“True, but have they ever tried to push back?”
I shake my head.
“Relationships are a two-way street. They should’ve tried to reach out to you when they realized you were slipping away. That’s what we do in my family.”
“Are you implying that I should’ve tried to reach out to you?”
“No. That’s different.”
“Good answer. I was about to push you down the stairs.”
He pushes me playfully. “What do you want to do?”
I think for a long moment. “I want to go to your penthouse. I bet you can see the stars from there.”
“Yep. We can open a bottle of wine and have dinner. I’m starving.”
My stomach growls. I rub it and say, “I need cheese fries.”
He shakes his head. “It’s the second time in less than a week, Little Blue.”
“Well, my sister was almost attacked by her ex-husband. I’ve been dealing with my ex-boyfriend, and…there’s a lot of emotional clutter that needs to be handled with greasy food.”
He lets out a loud breath. “Fine, I’ll get Owen to pick them up and we can go home.”
I look around, trying to remember the direction of the subway. “How are we doing that?”
He points at the Bugatti that’s parked almost in front of us.
“This could be a zebra.” I try to conceal the smile, but it’s impossible.
“Stay away from my car,” he says with a warning voice.
“Behave, and nothing will happen to it.”
He takes my hand and kisses it. “That depends on what you mean by behaving.” He opens the passenger door and gives me a mischievous look that makes my legs weak.