Miles
Skylar and I leave Eric’s building and start walking through Tribeca with no destination in mind.
It’s a cool autumn Saturday night, and the streets are full of people out and about, smiling, laughing, on their way somewhere.
I hear an occasional mention of Al Khad as people go by us.
Someone tells us there’s a celebration happening in Times Square.
His capture will be the story of the year and will reinvigorate coverage of the ship bombing right when life has begun to return to some semblance of normal—or the new normal I’ve found in the years since losing Emmie.
Tonight was a good night. A great night. Until the past resurfaced to remind me there’s no escaping it.
I should say something to Skylar, but I don’t know what. Our conversation flowed effortlessly for hours, and now I can’t think of a thing to say.
“Look.” She points to the Empire State Building lit up in red, white and blue.
The sight of that statement of support for our country, our military and the victims of the ship bombing moves me deeply.
“It’s nice to know that people haven’t forgotten,” I say.
“We will never forget.”
I nod to acknowledge her. Emotions storming around inside me make it impossible to speak.
Emmie would like Skylar. It’s an odd thought, but my thoughts are all over the place.
We walk for a long time. Near Times Square, we hear the celebration under way and see the jumbotrons lit up with coverage of the raid that brought down Al Khad. I watch with a detached sense of awareness that people are happy with the news.
Skylar’s hand on my arm directs me away from the fray.
“I’ve waited such a long time for this,” I tell her. “I’m not sure what to do with the energy I’ve devoted to wanting revenge.”
“You’ll redirect it into something productive after you’ve had a chance to absorb it.”
“I suppose.”
“That’s what you’ve done all along, right? You’ve focused on your business and your work and supporting the family group.”
“I’ve tried.”
“And succeeded, from what Ava told me about you.”
“What else did she tell you?” I ask, amused by the thought of them talking about me before tonight.
“That she admires you greatly, and we have a lot in common.”
“I was sorry to hear about your sister.” We didn’t cover serious topics earlier, but now that the tone of the evening has shifted, it seems appropriate to mention it.
“Thank you.”
“What was her name?”
“Teegan. She was five years younger than me, and I adored her. Losing her nearly broke me.”
“I know that feeling.”
She looks up at me. “I should be honest and tell you I read about you long before I knew Ava.”
“Is that right?”
Nodding, she says, “I read about you and Emerson and your admirable devotion to preserving her memory.”
“She would’ve done the same if it’d been me on that ship.”
“I’m so, so sorry you lost her the way you did.”
“Thanks. I am, too. Whenever there’s a development in the story, it feels brand new again.”
“I don’t know how you stand having to keep revisiting it.”
“Sometimes I can’t stand it. I’m happy they got Al Khad, don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t want to think about this crap tonight. I wanted to focus on meeting someone who interests me for the first time since I lost Emmie.”
She glances down, but not before I catch the rosy flush of her cheeks.
“Was that too forward?”
“Not at all. It was sweet.”
“I’m extremely out of practice.”
“You’re doing just fine.” She takes hold of my hand and looks up at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m interested, too. Just so you know.”
“It’s worth a lot, and I’m glad to know it’s not just me.” We cover another block, and I’m immensely thankful for her company and her honesty. “You want to get a drink?”
“Sure.”
I look up to realize we’ve walked all the way to Murray Hill.
We duck into an Irish pub and find seats along the wall.
It’s crowded, so we’re forced to sit close to each other, not that I mind.
After we order draught beers, I put my arm around her so she won’t be shoved off her stool by the rowdy young men next to her.
“Not conducive to conversation,” I say, my lips close to her ear so she can hear me over the trio loudly playing Irish music.
She smiles widely. “I’m not complaining.”
At first I thought she resembled Emmie, but upon further scrutiny, I’ve decided that while their coloring is similar, that’s where the similarities end.
I breathe in the distinctive scent of Skylar’s hair.
This is as close as I’ve been to a woman since Emmie died.
I hope she’d approve of me moving on after all this time.
Actually, she’d be furious that it’s taken this long. My Emmie was nothing if not practical.
I notice the TV in the bar is set to Al Khad coverage.
Skylar sees me looking, places her hand on my face and turns it gently away from the television. “Look at me instead of that.”
I gaze into her eyes, which are a golden shade of brown, and immediately feel a sense of relief from the madness swirling around the capture of Al Khad.
The noise around us fades to a dull roar.
I lean in closer to her, without consciously deciding to.
My lips connect with hers, and her hand curls around my neck.
For the longest time, we simply breathe the same air, existing in our own little bubble where nothing matters but the two of us.
She breaks the kiss but keeps her hand on my neck.
I note the rosy glow of her cheeks, the shine of her dark hair, the slick moisture on her bottom lip, and a surge of desire takes me by surprise. It’s been so long since I experienced anything resembling desire that I’ve almost forgotten how it feels.
A second round is delivered, and we separate to take the beers from the waitress.
I hand her a twenty and tell her to keep the change.
Skylar and I watch the band, listen to the music and drink our beer, but all I can think about is kissing her again and how long I’ll have to wait until I can.
When her mug is half empty, she puts it down. “You want to get out of here?”
I place my glass next to hers. “Very much so.”
She stands and extends a hand to me.
I take it and let her lead me through the crowd. When we’re back on the street, the cool air is a welcome relief from the heat of the bar. I look at where we are, and a thought occurs to me. “Do you want to see my office?” It’s closer than either of our homes.
“I’d love to.”
I tuck her hand into mine, and we cover the six blocks and two avenues in silence. In the lobby of my office building, I show my ID to the security officer, who unlocks the elevator for us.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, Mr. Ferguson.”
“If the night security people know your name, you probably work too much,” Sky says in a teasing tone when we’re in the elevator. We’re still holding hands.
“I do work too much, but he probably knows me because of the publicity I’ve gotten since the lawsuit.”
“I also work too much.”
I like that she helps me keep the focus on the here and now. “I know why I do. What’s your excuse?”
“Most of the time, it’s because I have nothing better to do.”
I take a step closer to her until our bodies are nearly touching. “What if you had something better to do? Would you still work too much?”
She looks up at me and shakes her head. “No way.”
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be attracted to a woman.
My body is like a leg that’s fallen asleep and is suddenly coming back to life.
Pinpricks of sensation trickle down my back and up my legs.
My heart beats a slow, steady cadence. I feel breathless and lightheaded.
And I’m hard. For a while now, I’ve wondered if my manhood died along with Emmie.
It’s a relief to know I’m still very much alive, even if I’ve had reason to believe that part of me died with her.
The ding of the elevator arriving on our floor ends the charged moment. I lead her from the elevator to the glass doors with our logo on them.
I unlock the door and disengage the alarm system.
“This is where the magic happens.” I lead her from reception to my office in the far left-hand corner.
“My partner Alex’s office is in there.” I gesture to the closed door to my right.
“But he travels so much, we rarely see him. He handles business development while I oversee campaign implementation.”
The glow of lights from adjacent buildings makes it so I don’t need to turn on lights for her to see my office. “Welcome to my home away from home.”
“Where’s your real home?”
“Chelsea.”
“Not far from Tribeca.”
“Nice how that works out, huh?”
I want her to see the view, but she’s more interested in looking at me.
“I usually hate setups,” she says.
“Is that right?”
Nodding, she says, “They’re always a disaster.”
“Always?”
“They were always a disaster.”
“If you knew how many people have tried to fix me up since Emmie died, you’d laugh.”
“People want to help.”
“I know. I’ve been incredibly well supported by family and friends who helped me survive the darkest days of my life. I don’t know where I’d be today without them.”
“And where are you today?”
“I’m in the company of a beautiful, sexy woman who’s reminded me tonight that despite my painful past, I’m still very much alive.”
“Just how alive are we talking?”
I put my arms around her and bring her in tight against my erection.
“Oh, well. Very much alive indeed.”
I’ve smiled so much tonight that my face aches, a further reminder of how long it’s been since I had something to smile about.
She puts her arms around my neck and brings me down to her for another chaste kiss that makes me want to beg for more. As if she can read my mind, her mouth opens and her tongue comes looking for mine. I almost faint from the surge of blood to my groin.
My coat falls to the floor in a heap. She breaks the kiss to get rid of her coat, and it lands next to mine.
“Sofa?” she asks.
It takes a second for my blood-starved brain to catch up, but then I’m nodding and then we’re landing on the plush leather sofa in a tangle of arms and legs and more tongue-curling kisses. I realize she’s unbuttoned my shirt when I feel her hand on my chest.
I tremble under her touch, and memories come flooding back, the last night with Emmie, before she left on the cruise with her parents and I went home to Minneapolis to be with my dad. I don’t want to think about that right now, but the memories are relentless.
I pull back from Sky.
“Miles? Are you okay?”
“I…” I don’t know what to say to her. I want this. I want it badly, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for it.
“Come here,” she says, holding out her arms to me.
I rest my head on her chest, and she combs her fingers through my hair in a soothing caress that helps to calm me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every minute of this evening—or I guess I should say last evening, since it’s after midnight.”
“What’re you doing tonight?” I ask her.
“I don’t have any plans.”
“You do now—if you want to, that is.”
“I want to.”
Knowing there will be more helps me to relax into her embrace. Rather than fighting the memories that intruded on our good time, I wallow in them. I want to remember Emmie and my fierce love for her. I want to feel that way again.
Maybe now that Al Khad has been captured, I can put my thirst for vengeance into something more productive, as Sky suggested.
Maybe I can invest that energy into a new relationship.
It’s probably time. Long past time, if I’m being honest, and if tonight is any indication of things to come, I’ve finally found someone worth the effort it’ll take to try again.