Chapter 14
“Ican’t believe we canceled our reservation at Nova for this,” Mona, my friend and New York real estate agent, says as she leans back into the park bench. The lamppost we’re seated by switches on, officially marking dusk in New York City. The glow of the lamp illuminates the bright red blush she’s wearing. Or maybe she’s flushed from the coronary we’re both about to have from devouring about a quart of cheese grease, each.
Taking a small break from stuffing my face with an enormous slice of pizza, I say, “Worth it, right?”
She laughs. “You’re not as fancy as you pretend to be.”
I take another large bite of my slice, grease spilling over the crust and dripping down my hand. “You think I act fancy?” I snatch up a napkin from the pile between us to catch the grease before it stains the cuff of my dress shirt.
She scoffs. “Whatever, Richie Rich. I expect the five-course Michelin star treatment when you’re in town. Instead, you take me to a rickety-looking food truck.”
Mona and I were on our way to Nova, an elite New York City restaurant. I had to call in a favor to get us a table, but when I saw the Barbieri’s pizza truck parked in West Village, it was a done deal. Barbieri’s is my favorite New York style pizza, and I’ve missed them the last four times I visited the East Coast. I don’t know how. I could spot that red-and-black truck with the giant revolving pizza mascot on top a mile away.
I nudge her with my knee. “You know this is way better.”
She pats her belly and sets her paper plate aside, which is now translucent from the grease dripping off her slice of cheese and olives. “Delicious, but I need a break. Only at Barbieri’s do you pay for a slice and get half a pizza. I think this food truck is like half the reason Liv stayed out here so long.”
I flinch at the mention of her name. Mona normally knows better than to mention Liv to me. They’re cousins, and the very reason Liv and I met in the first place. Mona and I interned at LMC together in school, but she lost interest in the entertainment industry, moved to New York, and became a very successful real estate agent. Familial ties aside, just because my marriage ended didn’t mean I needed to lose a lifelong friend as well.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “Slipped out.”
“It’s fine. It’s in the past,” I say, showing her a clipped smile.
She sighs so loud I can hear it over the bustling chatter from a passerby in the park. “She’s back in L.A.,” Mona blurts out.
I glance at Mona from the corner of my eye. As far as I knew, Liv moved to the Midwest as soon as her baby was old enough to walk to be closer to her parents. But now she’s back? “Since when?”
“End of March. She got an offer to help open and manage a new brunch restaurant called Bluebird.”
I nod. “Near Long Beach. I’ve seen some press for it. Thanks for the heads-up.”
Mona raises her thick, neatly manicured brows at me. Her hair may be blond, but she dyes her eyebrows a deep brown. She could be Cici’s twin. Apparently, I have a friend type. “You’re going to check it out?”
Squinting, I shake my head. “I mean, thanks for the heads-up on where to avoid going.” In fact, I might not go to Long Beach anymore, period.
“Are you still this angry after eight years? Because if it helps, she’s told me on multiple occasions what she did to you was the worst mistake of her life. She’s a good mom, Adam, and she loves her daughter with her whole heart, but I know she wishes Summer were yours.”
The wind is knocked right out of me. It feels like somebody sucker punched me right in the lungs. Eight whole fucking years that I’ve avoided knowing what Liv named her baby. She used my fucking pick. The name I wanted to give my daughter.
My appetite disappears and I toss my slice of pizza on a plate to the side of me before wiping my hands. “I thought we came out tonight to talk business? Tell me more about this condo in Midtown. You said this condo going on sale is more miraculous than the second coming?”
She smirks at me. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. My client needs to hightail it out of the country in a hurry, so he’s selling for far less than he could. You’ll quadruple what you pay leasing it out, I promise. I’m not even going to put it on the market. It’s not worth the admin time. It’ll be snapped up in minutes. I’m giving you first crack at it. If I release it to the marketplace, your competition will be fierce.”
I level a stare at her as I cock my head to the side. “You’re really going to give me an aggressive sales pitch? Me, of all people? Sniffing out a shady deal is literally my job, Mona.”
She exhales, forcing a sharp breath. “Okay, the truth? You’re the only guy I know who can afford to drop four million up front for an investment property. The place is truly phenomenal, though.”
“Your client wants four million dollars, cash, before fleeing the country?”
Mona grimaces as she crosses her legs, shifting toward me. “I chose not to ask specifics because I’m a little scared of the answer. But yeah, I’m pretty sure he has ties with the mafia.” She pumps her eyebrows and says, “But the view is insane and he has vaulted ceilings.”
I laugh half-heartedly, mildly concerned that my purchase might be aiding a criminal, but it’s my favorite part of Midtown, so… “What do you need?”
“Well, I can’t represent you on the buyer side, but I have someone in my office who can dot the Is and cross the Ts for you.”
“That’s fine.”
“I’ll take you by for a walkthrough tomorrow, and then on Monday, we’ll just need a wet signature. My property management team will have it subleased before the end of next week, I assure you. This is an easy money grab, Adam.”
I pick up my pizza again. “Fine. I can stick around New York for a couple more days.” I haven’t heard from Chase, Cici, Mark, or Jay. There are no scandals and no emergencies to worry about. With Chase lying low and playing house with his new girlfriend, my work life is far too tame. To the point I’m buying multimillion-dollar properties just to pass the time.
“Great, I’ll get things moving right now,” Mona says, yanking out her phone and then proceeding to peck away on the keyboard.
I stare out into the park, wishing Amani had come with me on this trip. She probably would’ve loved this pizza. Actually, while I’m thinking of it… I pull out my phone, hold my folded, half eaten slice of pizza near my face, and snap a picture and send it her way.
Me
Hey, summer girl. Let your food education begin. Best slice of pizza in New York.
If you were here, what kind of slice would I be buying you?
She “likes” both messages with the thumbs-up emoji, but no response. I had my head between her legs for like an hour. Surely we’re past the brush-off emoji responses by now. With Mona now on the phone, I scoot to the other side of the bench and make a call of my own.
“Hey,” Amani answers.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?” she asks curtly.
“Oh shit, sorry. I thought…well, never mind. It sounds like you’re busy.”
She sniffles. “No, I’m sorry. That made me sound like an asshole. I mean, hey, how are you? How’d it go with LMC?”
“Turns out they made a good call. If Chase had taken that offer, he would’ve been ineligible to work with the studio that just paid him a small fortune. LMC had his back after all.”
“Oh, good. Glad to hear you don’t have to kick any asses.” She lets out a small laugh, but it sounds muffled.
“Are you getting sick? You sound a little off.”
She pauses for a moment, then admits, “I’m just in bed, under the covers.”
I glance at Mona across the bench, who is talking so fast, it sounds like a foreign language. She catches me staring at her and gives me a cheesy smile and a thumbs-up.
“Why are you in on a Saturday night at like seven o’clock in L.A.? Go out, have some fun. I mean, not too much fun.”
“I’m having a bad day,” she says simply. “I need some rest.”
I rub the back of my neck as I stare at my half eaten slice of pizza, debating my options. It doesn’t sound like she wants to elaborate, but she’s my summer girl. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to ignore the fact she’s having a bad day. “What’s wrong, Amani?”
She sniffles again. “Depends. Do you want the easy answer where I say ‘It’s no big deal, I’ll be fine, and don’t worry about me,’ or do you want heavy honesty?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Always heavy honesty.”
She sighs into the phone. “My mom’s treatment just became unbearably expensive. I just got fired from a partnership I rely on. My DMs are filled with trolls cussing me out for existing. And all of that would be tolerable, except today I realized there’s no way I can pull everything together in time financially to try IVF. Having a baby is off the table now, and I just need a day to be bummed about it.”
“Shit, Amani. I’m sorry. That’s a lot for one day,” I mumble into the phone as I picture her eyes. I hear the sniffling. I know she’s crying. I wonder if the tears are pouring because she’s alone and knows no one can see her.
There’s silence between us for an uncomfortably long time until she finally asks, “Hey, Adam?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s no big deal. I’ll be fine, and don’t worry about me.”
I exhale, feeling the familiarity of the conversation. How many times did Liv tell me she was fine? How many times did I believe her? How many times was I wrong to leave her alone because I was chasing a life she didn’t want? “I have to wrap up something here, but I’ll be home on Monday night. Or Tuesday, latest. How about we talk when I get back?”
“Tuesday?” she asks, her voice cracking, so she clears her throat. “Yeah, I’m free on Tuesday. See you then. Oh, and Hawaiian.”
“Huh?” I ask.
“You asked what kind of slice of pizza I’d like. Hawaiian. Ham and pineapple. That’s my favorite.”
“Good to know,” I respond before we say bye and end the call.
Mona’s still on the phone, so I stare at my shoes, trying to ignore the twinge I have in my gut. It’s the same feeling I usually get right before Chase lands in the middle of a scandal. It was the feeling I had the day we got Dad’s diagnosis. The very same feeling right before Liv told me the baby wasn’t mine. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like my intuition’s telling me that I’m so laser-focused on one thing, I’m missing something huge in the background.
For once in my fucking life, I listen to the twinge.
“Mona, I’m sorry,” I say loud and clear enough that she pulls the phone from her ear. “If you can make this deal happen any other way, I’m in. But I can’t wait until next week. My girl needs me, and I’m going home right now.”