Gretchen moved closer. “What do you know, Scotty?”
He held up his hands. “Nothing, Gretchen. I swear. All I know is that you mean the world to Richard, and I thought, under the circumstances, that might be good for you to hear.”
You met a friend today for coffee and then yoga, maybe. That’s the way you were dressed, at least. I loved watching the two of you walk together, the way you tossed your head back when you laughed. Like it was coming straight from your belly. Your laugh is one of my favorite things. Like a bud bursting into flower.
I followed you back home afterward. You stopped to pet two dogs and say hello to three babies. Explain to me how a person is supposed to not be in love with you?
Unfortunately, I did also see you with him later. I have no idea why you’re still talking to him, much less anything else. But I know that life is complicated. And that you can’t ever know the truth of someone else’s heart. Although I feel like I do know everything about yours that matters.
And I know I need to be patient. That you’ll make the right choice. In your own time.
Before
Frankie
September 8
They’re standing outside the door to my studio when I come back from the safe, brightly lit café I’ve been hiding in for the past twenty minutes. Noah paces the Great Jones sidewalk worriedly. Tall Max has his hands jammed deep in his pockets, shoulders hiked up angrily—it makes him seem even taller. Max is even better-looking than Noah, like a very intimidating Norwegian model who rarely smiles, though Noah insists he does all the time at home. I have never been Max’s favorite. He thinks I should get my own husband, Noah confessed in a moment of drunken honesty. I almost like Max more for saying it out loud—he’s funny and smart. And he’s also not wrong about me using Noah in that way.
I nearly texted Richard first, as if that picture of us, that picture he doesn’t even know about yet, means we’re in this together. Do I like the idea of him swooping in to my rescue? It feels a little lame, but there’s no denying that I wish I hadaperson right now. And I wish that person were Richard. The connection I feel every time I’m near him is ridiculous, childish in its absence of clear logic—unfortunately, knowing that doesn’t seem to be making it any less real.
“Thank you for coming,” I say to Max. “I know you have a dinner to get to.”
Max tries to smile, but he doesn’t get very far.
“It’s not a problem,” Noah says. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, just a little freaked out, that’s all.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Max says sharply. “Remind me why we’re not calling the police?”
“I can’t,” I say. Luckily, I’ve already worked out a good excuse. “The studio belongs to the gallery, and I think maybe I left it unlocked. I’m afraid they’ll get angry with me if they find out about the damage.”
Not bad. Also, now that I’ve said it out loud, I’m realizing it’s true.
“Okay,” Max grumbles. “But to be clear,Iwill be way more than angry if someone is still in there.”
“I’m sure they’re not,” Noah says. “She called us like thirty minutes ago. They’ve got to be long gone by now.”
“Great, then we can go home,” Max says.
“Stop it, Max,” Noah snaps, which makes Max scowl even more.
“Thank you,” I say directly to Max. “I know this is annoying, but I do really appreciate it.”
—
I follow them inside, feeling lightheaded when I see the extent of the damage. When I entered the first time, I was terrified and turned around immediately as soon as I realized someone had vandalized the studio. I registered that it was bad, but notthisbad. The space has been completely destroyed, my supplies ransacked, canvases slashed. The effort it must have taken. The rage.
The Senator. He sent another crazy text demanding I call him. But when I did, he just breathed into the phone, then hung up. Now this? It doesn’t make any sense. Unless he’s completely lost it.
“All clear,” Max says after he checks the last dark corner. “Crisis averted.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Noah asks me, ignoring Max’s impatient singsong tone. “Because you don’t look okay.”
“It was probably just kids messing around,” Max says. “The kids that go to LaGuardia near my work are animals. They’d probably call this an average night out.”
“Max, go outside. I’ll be there in a second,” Noah says.
