Tempted

Hailee

What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I fucking doing? When I close the door behind Alex, I cover my hand with my mouth and cry.

This is up there with the hardest things I’ve ever done. I hope it’s not also the stupidest.

It’s the opposite, I assure myself. It was the hardest thing because it was the right thing. What am I supposed to do? Give up one of the best opportunities of my life for a man I’ve known for a month who also lied to me? Lied to me about the hitmen he hired. It sounds like a Soviet parade of red flags when I put it that way. But it’s not so simple, is it?

I’m leaving this to fate. If the stars align and we really love each other, we can maybe see each other after I’m done with this project.

Then I have another worry, like maybe now that Alex has discovered he can love, he’ll find it with another woman. He has no lack of options. How can I possibly expect a man like that to be single now that he’s shown that he’s capable of being in a serious relationship?

I should storm down those steps and kiss him, but my legs don’t move. I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?

He’s a handsome billionaire and he’s sorry. What more do I need?

I go to my couch and hug a pillow while I stare out the window. It takes a while for Alex to appear. He walks out onto the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and then walks slowly up the street. I keep watching his tall, suited figure for a couple minutes. He takes his time before hailing a cab and disappearing down 50 th Street.

When he’s finally out of sight, I let my head go limp against the cushion. I breathe until I get my composure back and then go to the bag he left on the table.

I pull the envelope out. I debate even opening it. I don’t think it’s a long love letter. Or a eulogy for our relationship. Maybe it’s a check for a million dollars. I don’t want that evil on me. I don’t need any more internal strife.

To cash or not to cash.

I tear open the envelope, revealing a blank white card. I’m surprised to see the inside is mostly blank, too.

There’s just a handful of words, but they stop my breath.

I walk slow. Chase me.

The world glazes over with grief. Oh no. I drop the letter and turn. I run to the window, but I’d already watched him go.

That’s why it took him so long to disappear.

He was waiting for me.

I was supposed to read the letter right when he left, and if I wasn’t such an emotional mess at the moment, I would have.

And I would have chased him. Kissed him at the bottom of the stairs and let him carry me upstairs to my bed.

There’s a twenty-pound stone hurtling through my stomach. I’m in physical pain, like all my insides are coiling and constricting like snakes. Getting this job has felt like fate. And I tell myself so was reading his letter late. I wasn’t supposed to chase him.

I sit on the floor and breathe. I’ve never had emotions like this.

When people say falling in love, I pictured myself flying through fluffy clouds and landing gently in a field of wildflowers.

Falling in love is more like tumbling down the side of a mountain and reaching the bottom with a chipped tooth and leaves in your hair. But like a kid or a happy labrador, you’re itching to do it all over again. To keep falling, because you’ve never felt a damn thing like it.

I crumple the letter in my fist. I didn’t chase him.

I wasn’t supposed to chase him.

It’s fate, I tell myself, but it just sounds like one big lie.

***

Weeks have passed since that afternoon in my apartment. Fall comes late. The city has finally cooled off right when I’m about to leave.

It’s three days until my flight, and it couldn’t have come sooner. Despite having grand plans for unemployment while stuck at a desk during my day job, they never quite materialized.

I’ve caught up on my reading at least. I slaughtered my Tbr list, only for it to grow two dozen new titles overnight like I’m Hercules swinging at the Hydra.

I’m doing something stupid this evening. I’m going on a date. It doesn’t seem like Alex has cared much for waiting. I heard that he’d seen Paige. And according to the timing of an Instagram post of Paige in a chef’s cap she apparently got from his kitchen, it would appear this happened before he came to my apartment.

I can’t be furious. I walked out on him. Besides, Paige has never been healthy for him from what I can tell. I doubt he’s enjoying himself.

What did set me off was a paparazzi picture of him getting coffee with an unknown woman. Not an actress or an intern or a model. Some Jane Doe not even the internet sleuths have identified.

But she’s pretty.

I hope it was a business breakfast, but I doubt it. Alex has his needs. He’s an adult, and we’re not dating. I can say all this but still feel like an empty sack of a human. Just skin, light enough to be swept up by the wind.

Alana has attempted to cheer me up by scheduling a blind date, and I said yes to avoid hurting her feelings. She talked the guy up quite a bit. Probably too much. I’ve been wise and kept my expectations low, however.

He agreed to meet me at Bellissima’s, and I’ll give it a shot for nothing else but to see if I can picture myself in the dating world again.

I’ve been sad the past several weeks. I’m trying not to use the word depressed. Although I’ve only washed my sheets once and my diet has consisted of nothing but fast casual and cheap smoothies.

I tell myself it’s because I don’t have a paycheck coming in, not because my heart feels like it was ripped out my chest.

I’m mad at Alex, but I miss him. These two things can be true. I’ve gone over it again and again in my head. If it wasn’t for the echo of those gunshots playing like a sound loop sometimes, I might’ve forgiven him completely. Chased him even after he was out of sight.

But how can I? Wouldn’t that just be naivete? Rose-colored glasses, falling for the criminal. I know he’s sorry. I don’t think he’s lying about his motivations to take down the Fords. It does make my skin crawl to think what Chester and his dad have done. That mine explosion was a single instance, but it seems more than likely that they have done similar things before.

Am I a criminal too? I know the man who’s responsible for the machine gun fire on 7th Ave, and yet I don’t dream of turning him in. And not just because he’s a billionaire who won’t face justice anyway.

Alex lied to Lucas and me. That was the problem. That was what bothered me. But I’ve gone over all of this in my head several hundred times now. I’ve reached no new conclusions. Other than one—I miss him.

I thought I saw him once or twice in these last weeks. I’ll see a tall man in a suit, and my head will spin so quickly I’d be afraid my neck might break if I wasn’t so excited by the idea of seeing Alex.

I’ve thought about long distance. He has a plane for crying out loud. But I’ll be in the woods, not Seattle. I’m afraid we’d fail if our already rocky relationship was tested by two thousand miles.

But this void isn’t going to last much longer.

I’m going to get on a plane to Washington tomorrow night. I’m going to breathe foggy mountain air and get my head put back on straight. No billionaires. No conspiracies. Just me and the woods. A fresh start and a job that doesn’t make me feel like I’m part of the problem in this world.

It’s everything I wanted just two months ago, and now there’s something unbearable about the idea. The excitement isn’t all there. It’s still with Alex.

I dream about him, not the west.

My throat will tighten in my sleep as he comes and kisses me, and then I’ll wake up with a start and feel the cold sheets next to me with a plummeting heart.

Gone.

I had the man I have always wanted, and he’s gone. Part of it is my fault. Maybe I should have even lower standards. Act like getting shot at was no big deal. He didn’t mean for it to happen.

I’m trying to pretend it’s fate that I got this job out of state at the same time this new romance collapsed. It’s not working. It doesn’t feel like fate.

It just feels fucked.

Another date at Bellissima’s doesn’t seem like the correct course of the universe, yet here I am. At least Fabio is working. I arrive before my date, and the old man gives me a hug, and he grills me on where I’ve been the last month.

“France, Fabio.”

“France? France? Why no Italy?” he says, setting the menus down.

“I don’t have a good reason.”

“It should have been Italy. France is full of drunks!”

I smile. “Next time. I promise.”

“Ah. It’s okay. I forgive you. Do you have a date tonight?”

“I do. Blind date, in fact.”

He leans back and widens his eyes. “Oh! Brave! I will keep an eye on you. I will bring you the dusty phone from the kitchen and say you have a very important call from the mayor if you blink twice very quick.”

“Thank you, Fabio.” I don’t have it in me yet to tell him I’ll be moving away for the foreseeable future. Fabio is used to many of his regulars eating here until the day they drop dead.

He fills my water and goes to wait on others while I wait for my date.

I’m staring at the door and keep picturing Alex walking through. My heart leaps when I realize maybe that’s who this is.

Maybe Alex reached out to Alana. Maybe she heard him out and decided to help with the surprise.

No. That wouldn’t have happened. I told the girls I caught Alex texting an ex of his, and they’ve been sufficiently pissed at him for breaking my heart. Again, I left out the murder-for-hire part.

Alex doesn’t walk through the door. A bearded man in a ballcap and flannel does. I recognize him from the photos Alana sent. He’s ruggedly handsome. Perhaps Alana was prepping me for the western type. I smile and stand, and we shake hands.

“Jack.”

“.”

We sit back down and clear our throats. We immediately make small talk about the neighborhood and weather until there’s a flow to the conversation and the awkwardness is gone.

“Did Alana tell you I was moving in a few days?” I ask.

“She did. Yeah. I figured I probably wouldn’t get another chance to go on a date with Barnes.”

“You say that like I’m a somebody.”

He shrugs. “You kind of are.”

“I made it into a couple gossip magazines.”

“Hey, that’s a couple more than me.”

“Fair enough.”

“But how about you?” Jack asks. “Why did you decide to go on a date when you’re moving so soon?”

I consider this for a moment. It’s because I wanted optimism. I wanted to leave this city with the feeling that maybe there is another man out there for me. A good date could brighten my mood, even if it doesn’t lead anywhere. I don’t say this though.

“I just wanted a free plate of fettuccine, to be honest,” I say, obviously joking, but Jack doesn’t seem to find it funny.

“Oh, you’re just one of those free meal girls,” he says accusingly.

“No. We can go Dutch. I’m only kidding.” Did he think I was going to put out on the first date? Maybe my expedited schedule had him thinking I was looking to get laid.

“That’s fine. I pay. Always. I’m a gentleman,” Jack says and changes the subject. “Do you still see Alex Blackwell? Text him at all?”

“No.” I frown, both perplexed and bothered about why he’d bring up Alex.

“Oh, really?” he says and seems disappointed.

“We only dated for a little over a month. We don’t talk anymore.”

“But do you still have his number?”

I pause for a moment, unsure of where this is going. “Yes, I have his number.”

“Okay, well, if you see him again, would you give him mine? I can text it to you now. It’s just an idea, but I have this crypto currency a buddy of mine and I created. We only have ten million coins minted. It’s a limited supply, and we’d love to have a billionaire backer.”

I say nothing. Alana, I’m going to kill you. But first, Jack. “Did you seriously come on this date to try to get me to pitch a crypto currency to my ex-boyfriend?”

“Oh…” He holds both hands out defensively. Like somehow, he’s shocked he might be called out on this. “It was just an idea. I’d give you a finder’s fee of a thousand coins. If we got Alex to back us, that could end up as a thousand dollars, easy. Maybe even ten thousand a year from now. It’s about getting in on the ground floor.”

We’ve already ordered, and I’m hungry. Plus, I’m not going to give up ground in my favorite restaurant. I took a Ritalin this morning, but it’s mostly worn off by now. The dim candlelight could easily lull me to sleep. I want to tell Jack off, but I decide to let my body language do that.

I get an idea. “Tell me about your crypto currency, Jack.” The wine comes, and I pour my first glass. I don’t even finish it before my eyes glaze over and I’m nodding off to sleep.

I wake to the wet warmth of steam on my nose. Delicious creamy steam. My fettuccini is in front of me, and the chair opposite is empty. I was probably only out for five or ten minutes.

Shit.

This worked way better than I expected.

“I told the gentlemen that the lady only falls asleep with suitors she finds unsuited to her,” says Fabio.

“Oh, Fabio, at least you make me feel like a princess.”

“That is the goal at Bellissima’s.”

I eat my pasta alone and drink half the bottle of wine. Tomorrow night is the rally in Central Park in support of the new National Forest.

It’ll be an odd mix of hippies, corporate executives whose companies are pledging money, and tourists caught wondering what the fuss is about. My flight leaves that same evening. I won’t even be staying for the fireworks.

I have a fourth glass of wine and tell myself that I’m going to be working with strapping young men who want to save the planet. Who cares about one bad date?

Alana doesn’t have the best radar when it comes to men and their intentions, and I don’t want her feeling bad, so I’ll just say we exchanged numbers and I might see Jack when I’m back in New York next year.

I finish my pasta and stare at the door. I’m willing Alex to walk through it, but just as I do, a happy, handsome couple comes down the stairs. The woman is laughing, and the man has a grin.

They’re giddy just from each other’s company. I sip my wine and open my phone. I go to my messages with Alex.

We didn’t exchange very many texts during the month we dated since we were hardly apart from each other.

I could text him right now, but I can’t give up this job for Alex. It would be lunacy. If I did text him, it would be to say maybe we should get dinner if I end up back in New York next year. That’s all I could do. It is fate that I can’t be with Alex, whether I like it or not. What would I even do if I stayed? I don’t have a job.

I put my phone in my purse before the temptation to text him becomes too much. In a few days, I’ll be a few thousand miles away.

I just need to make it until then.

Jack’s food came too, and Fabio asks if I want to box it up, but I text Sophia, asking if she’s around and hungry enough for a spaghetti Bolognese. She says she can be here in fifteen flat, and Fabio keeps the dish warm in the kitchen until then.

My friends have been super attentive to me since my breakup with Alex. It’s sweet but also a harsh reminder of how much I lost.

They knew I was falling in love with him. It’s that, coupled with the fact that I’m going away to Seattle. I feel horrible about leaving them behind when we were only just getting close.

Sophia comes in wearing a bright-red overcoat and black beret. It’s the kind of thing I feel like only she can pull off. “Bad date?” she asks.

“If bad means free Bolognese for you, sure.” Fabio whisks by the table and drops off the plate in front of Sophia with a bow.

She eats while I tell her about Jack.

“Alana sees a cute guy and gets an instant halo effect,” Sophia says.

“It does concern me that she can’t seem to see red flags.”

“It’s okay. No more blind dates from her. Thanks for learning that lesson for me, too. She was bound to send one my way eventually.”

“We’ll have to vet her boyfriends from now on.”

“Hmm. Agreed. Do you still have access to Alex’s security?” Sophia jokes, and I do crack a smile.

“I wish. That would be easier than trying to explain to a private investigator the signs of a fuck boy.”

We chuckle, and Sophia puts her fork down. She hasn’t eaten much. I don’t think she was hungry. I think she came just to see me. “I’m going to miss you.”

I’m too emotionally drained to make eye contact. I’m afraid I’m about to start crying. I look down, and she reaches across the table.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to guilt you. You’ve got to take this job. I’m just letting you know…”

“I know.” I squeeze her hand back. “I’ll miss you, too. But I’ll be back, I promise. I like a rainy day, but not three hundred days out of the year.”

“Good. What’s a year these days anyway? It might feel like a week.”

I don’t say anything to this. I have a feeling it might not fly by.

“But maybe, Hails, when you get back, we pool our income and get a bigger place together. I wouldn’t mind having a roommate.”

“I wouldn’t either.”

“I think I’m going to need one. The entire floor directly above mine is being converted into a single penthouse. It’s like ten thousand square feet or something ridiculous. Anyway, I fear my rent is going up.”

“I got you. We’ll build pillow forts.”

“Hell yeah.”

We talk for an hour about lighter subjects. Not love or moving or the prospect of dating again. I ask Fabio for the bill, and now it’s time to tell him.

“Fabio… I’m going to be moving away for a year.”

“You what?” His mustache twitches. “Why you say these things?”

“It’s not permanent, but I won’t see you for a while. I don’t want you to worry. I didn’t fall asleep on the train.”

“Oh no. Where are you going?”

“A job in Washington State.”

“So far! You know I may be dead in a year.”

“Fabio.”

“No. No.” He waves both his hands at me like I have him all wrong. “I see my wife then. I miss her very much. When you hear Fabio is dead, whether it is tomorrow or twenty years, I want you to clap your feet!” He smiles, and I do, too.

“Ugh.” I give him a hug. “I’m going to miss the best waiter in New York City.”

“Now. Now. You enjoy your young woman adventure. I will be here when you return.” He pats my back. “Good luck, young lady.”

“Thank you, Fabio.” I feel like if I look into his sweet, wrinkled eyes any longer, I’m going to cry.

Back out on the street, New York already looks nostalgic. A cabbie honks and flicks off a jaywalker, and my heart hurts. My entire life is here. I’m sure I could settle for a boring office job in sustainability. I don’t have to be happy with my job to be happy with my life.

I take a deep breath. It’s just cold feet talking.

Tomorrow is the rally in the park, and then immediately after, I’m on the nine p.m. to Seattle. This city will be gone.

And so will Alex.