Chapter 4
Ian
I was an easygoing guy. I played things by ear and didn’t take anything too seriously, but even I had a few rules. The most important one was—don’t mess with your best friend’s sister. And I wouldn’t cross that line.
Especially after both Ellie and I agreed on starting over.
I couldn’t tell why the impulse to flirt with her won over logic. Maybe because she blushed deliciously when I talked dirty. Or maybe because she seemed to light up each time we toed that line.
"How're you liking work so far?" I asked as we strolled toward Columbus Circle.
"It's honestly amazing. I'm learning so much, and the pace is insane. It's faster than any place I've ever worked. I'm half expecting to chop my fingers off every time I’m preparing a salad. I haven’t even finished the one I’m working on when the next order pops up—it’s crazy.” We laughed, and she added, “But the vibe in the kitchen is just incredible, and there are so many amazing chefs. "
I loved the passion in her voice.
"My parents always tease me about my choice of career." I was sort of surprised to hear this, since Henry had the utmost respect for his little sister’s occupation.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because neither of them likes to cook. We lived on takeout when we were kids."
"You lived with your mom after the divorce, right?" Somehow, I barely remembered hearing this story from Henry early on in our college years.
She nodded. Her shoulders slumped a bit. "Yes. I was spending summers with Dad but lived with Mom the rest of the year. Henry went to college not too long after the divorce, but I had six years of living in both households."
She looked so damn vulnerable. It made me want to cheer her up.
“Are you on good terms with your parents? I know from Henry they both remarried.”
“Yes, I am. And after so many years, they are almost on good terms with each other too, but it’s not always easy to keep everyone happy. I also like my stepparents a lot.”
Making her family happy was important to her.
It was something we had in common. The Gallaghers were always a tight group; it was how my parents raised us.
No matter how mad my sisters would get at us or vice versa, we supported one another through thick or thin.
The way I saw it, the unconditional support I got from family was one of the best things in my life.
“We’re not?—”
She yelped as I pushed her sideways in the nick of time.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going,” I yelled after the maniac biker who had nearly run her over.
Focusing on Ellie, I looked her up and down just to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed.
“Are you hurt? Did he brush into you or something?”
“I’m good. Just shocked; it happened so fast. I didn’t hear him.”
She was leaning with her back against a wall full of neon yellow graffiti, drawing in heavy breaths. I cupped her cheek, looking at her intently.
“It’s okay. It was just a scare,” I said, trying to reassure her. My protective side kicked in like a reflex.
She nodded, but her body was still stiff.
“I’ll shake it off. I just need a minute.”
I absentmindedly stroked her cheek, touching the corner of her mouth involuntarily. Ellie exhaled sharply. Her pupils dilated. Fuck, what was I doing?
On the other hand… it seemed to distract her from the incident.
I took a step back, pointing for her to lead the way.
I kept my hands to myself for the rest of the walk.
Ellie chirped on about her neighborhood.
She ended up being the tour guide. I didn’t know anything about Columbus Circle, and I liked watching her so animated about everything.
I’d never met anyone so expressive. She gesticulated with her hands, even twirling a couple of times when she pointed to several buildings she’d read about.
She got lost in her surroundings—no wonder she hadn’t heard the bike coming up on us before. I kept a close eye out again, just in case we happened upon any other out of control objects.
When we entered her apartment, Harper greeted us from the living room. "Hey, guys. I'm going to just stay here in the living room to work on a craft project. I hope that's okay. I feel like I don't get enough air in my bedroom."
"Sure," Ellie said. "Ian's fixing the rod and the wall in my bedroom, so we might bother you just a little drilling two holes."
"That's fine. I have noise-canceling headphones on," Harper said, pointing to her ears.
“Great," Ellie commented with a wave as we walked the short hallway to her room.
When Ellie opened the door, the space felt even smaller than before—maybe because it looked as if she'd crammed the entire inventory of a department store inside it.
I glanced up at the wall and barely held back a laugh.
"What's that?" she teased, pointing at my mouth. "You look like you want to laugh.”
"I made a bet with myself that you'd demolished half the wall."
"Hey, I didn't demolish it. A piece of it just fell, but that's fine. I figured we could just drill the new holes higher up, and then the curtain will cover it, and I won't even see it. And I’ll fix it another time."
"I have everything I need to fill that up."
"Wow. Really?"
"Yes." God, she was too cute.
"You're thorough."
I looked straight at her. "Always."
She blushed, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear and licking her lip. I wanted to capture her mouth and explore it until her legs shook.
"Um, okay, so do you need my help?" she asked. "Otherwise, I can just go buy us some dinner."
"I don't need any help. I'll probably need about twenty minutes though."
"Great. I'll buy something from downstairs." It was cute, the way she tried so hard to keep her eyes on my face when I could tell she was dying to check me out.
I went to the window, setting the toolbox on the windowsill. I smiled, feeling her watch me, and glanced over my shoulder. "Ellie?"
"Hmm?"
“Do you need anything, or are you just looking your fill?"
She blushed. "I'm not going to answer that."
I grinned. "That's an answer all in itself." She laughed nervously, turning on her heels.
It took me fifteen minutes to finish everything. By the time she came back, I’d even packed my toolbox.
"I'm back. Oh, wow. Are you already done? It always takes me forever."
"I'm handy like that," I said, winking. "Honestly, it's all about the tools. This drill piece is special for brick walls.” Feeling a bit hungry after smelling the aroma from whatever she was holding, I asked, “What did you buy?"
"Some empanadas at the shop in the next building. The lady running it, Maria, is from Buenos Aires, and I am trying to convince her that she has to charge more for them, because they are delicious. I hope she takes my advice. Until then, I’m just going to tip her generously."
I was fascinated by how quickly she befriended someone she’d just met.
I grew up in a small town in Montana, and I’d always missed the deep bonds of a small community.
Connections were different in DC and New York—somehow, they only tapped the surface.
I knew none of the neighbors in my building.
New Yorkers in general were a cautious bunch, as they should be, but it made it difficult to make their acquaintance.
"I'll bring a plate with empanadas, and we can eat in here. I don't want to disturb Harper in the living room."
“That's fine by me."
I sat on the windowsill, looking outside.
There was no view to speak of; it looked directly into another building.
Everyone had curtains so that you couldn't see inside the other apartments, because they were just that close.
I assumed it was the same reason Ellie wanted some, to ensure her privacy as well.
She came back, sitting on the other ed of the windowsill, the plate between us.
“Thanks for helping me out,” she said.
“No problem. Next time you need something done, just call me.”
She grinned. “I definitely will before I do more damage. I want to personalize the room a bit without investing too much time and money, since I’ll be moving to New Orleans in six months.”
“Why do you have to go again?” She’d briefly alluded to this, but I never really understood it all.
“The job takes me to three restaurants. Same brand, different cities with cuisine tailored depending on the location.”
“And at the end of it, they’ll give you a permanent job?”
“It’s a possibility, but nothing is for sure.
It will look great on my résumé anyway, to have worked at these diverse locations, so I’m sure I’ll be able to find a good job after that, or even another rotation.
And then hopefully, in a few years, I’ll have enough knowledge and capital to open my own restaurant. ”
“I like that you know exactly what you want.” I really did. Lately, I’d felt like I’d been missing something.
“I read once that it’s good to keep your end goal in mind, especially when things get tough.”
“True. Dylan and I wanted to create software for an insurance model for people with businesses in weather-dependent industries. Our parents operated a ski resort, and we had a few years without enough snow. So little, we couldn’t even make enough of it with our snow machines.
It nearly ruined them financially, because insurance doesn’t cover that.
Anyway, the plan was to submit the software in a competition.
The winner would have access to a wide network of partnerships to roll it out nationally.
We messed up the submission, so we were disqualified.
We were discouraged initially, but then I realized we could do it on our own—the goal wasn’t to win the competition but to create a product that would make people's livelihoods like my parents less of a roller coaster. We have the product, so that’s a win.
Now we’re working on finding partners. It’s moving more slowly than if we’d won the competition, but we’re making progress. ”