52. My Home
52
MY HOME
Layla
I want to say yes to Nick’s offer. But I can’t. I just can’t.
Two nights later, I’m wandering around our home, overlooking the New York skyline, talking to my guy. “I want to stay here,” I tell him on the phone.
“Yeah?”
I gaze out the windows to the city that beckons me. This city is home to my greatest heartbreak, but also my greatest love.
It’s the home of all my loves. “Everyone I love is here,” I say, sad but resigned.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’ll find another job. These things happen, and I’ll manage.”
“I know you will,” he says, warm and confident. “I’ll be home soon.”
Home. Yes, this is home. New York, here with him, and Harlow and Ethan, and my mom, and David, and all my new friends too. Jules, Camden, and Storm.
But it’s also his home. Nick’s parents are here, and David and Cynthia. Nick loves working with his son every day. It’d be selfish of me to take the job in Los Angeles, and to take Nick away from his family.
“I can’t wait to see you.” I settle onto the couch and ask him about today’s keynote. “Did you talk about opportunities?”
“I did. Because I know how to spot them.”
He sure does.
“And that’s how you don’t overdraw your lips with a pencil,” I say to the camera, winding up my don’ts video.
I’m in the studio at the Mia Jane offices a few days after formally resigning. I’m still unsure what’s next or where to look for a new job.
But I have a job to finish before I say goodbye to the company I’ve come to love. Right now, I’m putting the final touches on my last few videos for The Makeover.
When I complete the shoot and leave the studio, Storm’s waiting for me in the hallway of our offices. He wears a sad smile that matches mine. He isn’t going to leave New York either. His partner lives here, directing Broadway shows.
“How’s it going, girl?” he asks, and his heavy voice tells me everything about how he’s managing.
“I’m…okay,” I say, as cheery as I can be.
“Want to grab a drink and drown our work sorrows?”
Well, maybe I’m not that cheery. But I will be soon. “So much,” I tell him.
I snag my purse from the office and we head out into the early evening of Manhattan, making our way toward Gin Joint. “Have you started looking for a new job around here?”
“Yes. And it irritated the hell out of me. I nearly tossed my sparkly eyeshadow at the wall,” he says.
I squeeze his arm. “Don’t hurt makeup. It’s never makeup’s fault.”
He sighs. “True words. But at least there are martinis.”
“And do not ever harm a martini either,” I tell him.
“Never will I ever.”
When we reach the block with Gin Joint, we make pouty faces at the Mia Jane store, closed for the night. “We’ll miss you, MJ,” I say, then pretend to paw at the glass in exaggerated longing.
“I love you so much I hate you,” Storm says to the window, frowning.
Then we vow to let go of our sadness as we head into the speakeasy. At the bar over drinks, we trade ideas for each other about job hunting.
He lifts his martini and clinks it against my wine. “To new horizons.”
“May we find them together. And may they be as fabulous as the ones we leave behind.”
We down our drinks and stay a little longer, and when Storm leaves to see his guy, my friends join me.
With them, I brainstorm career plans too.
“You’re going to do great,” Harlow says, squeezing my shoulder.
I nod, resolute. “Thanks. I think so too. I’m sad about the Mia Jane job, but I’m strong enough to not let it get me down.”
“There will be other chances,” Ethan seconds.
“Life is all about seizing opportunities,” I say. Then, I catch sight of the man walking through the door of Gin Joint.
My man.
Nick’s not supposed to be home till tomorrow.
But he’s here early, and I’m elated. I jump up as he reaches me, all intense and business-sexy in his crisp shirt and tie, even after a flight.
Actually, he doesn’t look at all like he just stepped off a plane. That’s odd.
“Hi, Harlow. Hi, Ethan. Can I steal Layla for a minute?”
“Sure,” Harlow says, lips quirked in curiosity.
“She’s yours,” Ethan adds.
I’m damn curious what’s gotten into Nick. He clasps my hand, whisks me outside and walks me to the Mia Jane store. There, he moves behind me and curls his hands around my shoulders.
“It’s yours, Layla.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. “What did you say?” I whisper.
He presses a kiss on my cheek then spins me around. “I bought it for you.”
He says it so easily, so casually.
But I’m floored. I can’t speak for ages. When I finally form words, I say, “You bought the store for me?”
That doesn’t quite make sense.
He shakes his head. “No. The company. Mia was happy to sell it. She wants to spend time with family in Los Angeles. And, as you said, you want to spend time with friends and family here. In New York. So I bought it for you.”
I grab his shirt. “Are you serious?” I’m shaking inside with excitement.
He just grins. “Yes. I didn’t tell you sooner, but I flew back this morning to finalize the offer.”
I knew he didn’t look like he traveled all day. “You’ve been here? In meetings all day?”
“I want you to have everything you want. This is your dream job. Stay in New York and run your company from here with Storm.”
I throw my arms around his neck, and I kiss him fiercely and passionately.
When I let go, I whisper, “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Really? You really can’t believe it?” he asks wryly.
Good point. This is so very him. “Actually, I can,” I say, then I kiss him again on the streets of New York, the home of my great love and me.