Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
Thinking about my own situation, I could relate and speak from the heart. “Sometimes they give you no choice. When you were little, it was easy to look up to him, but he took a wrong path, and I won’t let him drag you in the gutter with him.”
“He used to care about me. I thought he loved me. We had nobody except each other when we ran away from our grandmother and came to the city. Until he found his crew.”
I’d heard his story many times, and it never stopped hurting. Lost kids. There were so many like him…like me. And, unfortunately, like Lucas.
“Neither of us is a winner when it comes to stability, but you have good people on your side. People who really care about you. Family doesn’t always have to be blood.
Sometimes we get lucky and find people who care about us more.
It’s the ones who step up and show up with actions, not words.
” I squeezed him closer. “I’ll be your brother. ”
I heard sniffling and looked up to see Jodi wiping her face. “That was so beautiful. And I love you too, Ambrose. I’ll be your sister, if you want one. But Keston is right. Just because Lucas is your brother doesn’t mean he’s on your side.”
“Thanks. I-I guess it’ll take a while to learn not to jump every time he calls.”
“Why don’t you and Carly have dinner with me and Bailey tonight? It’ll be good for you to get out, and I want you to get to know each other.” Noting the time, I got to my feet. “I gotta get ready for my client. You okay?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “And I’ll call Carly about dinner. She’ll like that.”
I smiled. “So will Bailey.”
I worked steadily through the morning on two small tattoos that took about an hour and a half each. I had just enough time to run down the block and meet Bailey and Madison, who were already waiting.
“Sorry.”
“Not a problem,” Madison said with her brisk efficiency. “This is a two-bedroom, two-bath, mostly renovated. It’s a thousand square feet.”
“Nice size for the city,” Bailey threw over his shoulder as we mounted the stairs.
Once inside the apartment, Bailey and I split up—he gravitated to the kitchen and me toward the primary bedroom.
It was a nice space, with crown molding and shining wooden floors, nothing I would’ve noticed if Carlos hadn’t taught me.
Bailey joined me and prowled around the room, opening closet doors. “That’s the problem with older places. They don’t have a lot of space.”
I smirked. “I don’t have much. You need the room, Calvin Klein?”
“Very funny.” He crossed his arms. “What do you think?”
I scanned the rooms. “I don’t know. It’s not giving me the vibes.”
“Is that how it goes? Vibes?”
By now, I was clued in to Bailey’s teasing. If he’d really liked it, he’d have begun by pointing out everything he loved about the apartment.
“It goes however I feel it. And I don’t think you’re loving it, either.”
“The light is minimal, and the views are terrible. At least my apartment faced trees. Plus, the rooms are pretty tight.”
“Well, the next apartment should solve all those problems,” Madison said brightly. “It’s a prewar but renovated and has amenities like a gym and a doorman. Shall we?”
We followed her to an apartment building on East 9th, which I knew Bailey wasn’t fond of, but I liked the lobby and the prewar aesthetic of wood paneling and older marble walls and floors.
When Madison opened the door to the apartment, as strange as it sounded, I felt a sense of home.
One wall was exposed brick with the unexpected bonus of a fireplace, and the large picture window let in tons of light across the pale floors.
The living room was spacious, easily holding a large sectional couch and other pieces of furniture.
There was a small half bath in the hallway.
The kitchen was modern with a big white island we would use as our eating spot. Bailey smoothed his hands over the surface. “Nice vibes,” he murmured, meeting my eyes, and I grinned.
“Yeah. Let’s check out the bedrooms.”
The primary was as large as the one we had now, with the surprise of a walk-in closet. It also had a spacious ensuite bathroom. The second bedroom was a decent size for an office. Hand in hand, we met Madison in the living room and exchanged glances. I nodded, and Bailey spoke.
“We love it.”
She beamed. “Wonderful. It’s been on the market for a month, so there should be some wiggle room with the price. The asking is one point two five so let me know what you’re going to offer.”
Knowing my hesitation from our previous discussions about money, Bailey squeezed my hand. “What are you thinking?”
We’d decided we didn’t want a huge mortgage on our heads and were willing to make a large down payment, made possible by the sales of the apartments.
I’d never been in the position to buy real estate and had no idea.
“I think one point two?” My stomach took a dive to my knees simply speaking that number.
“Let’s start at one even,” Bailey suggested. “Gives us some wiggle room. Like Madison said, it’s been out there for a while.”
“All right.” Madison took some notes on her phone. “I’ll get this to the owner’s agent and see what they say. We’ll be in touch.” She left us on the sidewalk in front of the building.
I checked my phone, and seeing I still had a few minutes, didn’t feel the need to rush back to the shop.
“I told Ambrose we’d have dinner with him and Carly tonight. I’d like you to meet her and get to know him better. I know you’re all about me getting comfortable in your world, but you need to be the same in mine.”
“Uh, okay.”
His brows pinched together, and sensing his reluctance, I said, “He’s decided to cut loose from Lucas. We had a long talk, and I think he’s finally got it right.”
“Thank God.” Bailey cast his eyes to the sky. “I hope it sticks.”
“Besides, Carly works at Sephora, and she can get you a discount on that fancy body wash you like.” I leaned in and nuzzled his neck. “I like it too. It drives me crazy.”
He kissed me. “I’ll stock up so I’ll never run out.”
**
Later that night, Ambrose and Carly sat across from us at an old-school Italian restaurant in Brooklyn, near their apartment. I was sure Ambrose chose it because he assumed Bailey would feel out of place at a neighborhood pizza joint.
“Me ’n Carly come here all the time. Better and cheaper than anything you can get in the city.”
“You know it. This reminds me of where my dad and I would go if I got a good report card,” Bailey remarked, scanning the plastic menu. “Oooh, mozzarella sticks. I haven’t had them in forever. Let’s get some. And a carafe of the house wine.”
Ambrose stared hard at him, and I took Bailey’s hand under the table and squeezed it. He returned the pressure.
Carly buttered a piece of bread. “I love their chicken parm. Always enough for leftovers.”
“Not if I’m eating it.” Bailey cackled. “But I’m gonna try something else tonight.”
Carly and Bailey had hit it off immediately, talking about their favorite Upper West Side restaurants and her giving him the details on when Sephora would be having their employee special sale.
“Give me a list of what you like, and I’ll make sure you get it.”
“Fancy-pants and Carly are getting along real well,” Ambrose mused.
“Is that what you call him?” I cut into my chicken parm. “I mean, he does look damn good in a suit.”
At that moment, Bailey caught my eye and winked, before taking a big bite of his baked ziti Siciliana. “My favorite. Eggplant.”
My lips twitched. Life was so fucking strange.
A year ago I couldn’t have imagined being with a man like Bailey.
Like Ambrose, I prejudged him, with his fancy clothes and law-school education, the same way I accused people of looking down their noses at me because of my lack of a college degree and occupation.
Now I couldn’t imagine life without his teasing, loving, lighthearted nature that I knew hid a wounded soul.
Our broken pieces fit each other’s jagged edges.
“Bailey,” Ambrose said, more serious than I’d ever seen him. “I got something to say.”
“Yes?” As if expecting a confrontation, Bailey set his fork on the plate, and I tensed. With Ambrose, I could never tell what might come out of his mouth.
“I know I acted real shitty to you right from the start, and I wanna say I’m sorry.
I appreciate everything you did for Lucas, and I know now that he’s never gonna change.
I tried to visit him, and all he did was call me useless and that I never did nothin’ for him.
You did what you could. So thanks.” Carly rubbed his back.
“Proud of you, baby.”
Bailey sighed with what I knew was a mixture of relief and empathy.
“I know it’s hard to give up on the people who should be there for you, but sometimes we have no choice.
Trust me, I understand. You might think I grew up privileged, but I have real-world experience in dysfunctional families.
” He took my hand and laced our fingers together.
“We don’t always get the chance to choose our family.
We’re lucky if we do.” Bailey raised his glass.
“Here’s to being one of the lucky ones.”
I clinked my glass to his. “To us.”