I never thought there’d be a day when she said anything helpful, but sitting there alone, in my dark office, while the man I loved waited for me minutes away, her words struck hard.
There’s no catch.
I was afraid it’d hurt more if Xavier and I broke up down the road, after I’d gotten more attached, but I was already in love with him, and it already hurt so much I couldn’t think straight. I’d cried for the first time in my life, and I was eating instant ramen alone in my office at night, for Christ’s sake.
The same office where we’d met.
The same office where he’d given me the ultimatum.
The same office where I’d told Georgia the truth about Bentley. I thought I’d broken free of the hold Bentley’s betrayal had on my decisions, but clearly I hadn’t. I was still so afraid of getting hurt that I was willing to let a hypothetical scenario drive away the one man that I could see myself having a future with.
Don’t run away from what could be because you’re afraid of what might be.
If I were honest with myself, I knew we could work. Xavier was the only one who got me, who fit into my life seamlessly yet somehow made it better, and without him, all my days would be like this.
Lonely, alone, and aching for something I could’ve had but let slip through my fingers.
“God, I’m an idiot,” I breathed.
My body made the decision a split second before my brain did. I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door before I’d truly processed what I was doing. I just knew that I had to get to the top of the Empire State Building. Right now.
Luckily, the late hour meant I didn’t have to wait for the elevator to stop on every floor during the ride down. I had plenty of time to—
The lights flickered once, and the elevator came to a shuddering halt. The panel display flashed to 4 and stayed there.
“You’ve got to kidding me.”
In all my years of working in the building, I’d never once had an elevator issue. The universe must be punishing me for my earlier indecision because there was no freaking way this was a coincidence.
I jabbed furiously at the lobby button again. Nothing.
I checked my phone. No service, and it was down to the last two percent. I’d been so caught up with work that I’d forgotten to charge it.
Dammit.
My only remaining option was to press the emergency button and pray that 1) someone was on call this late at night during the holidays, and 2) help got here quickly.
After a seemingly interminable wait, a gruff voice answered my call and promised me help was “on the way.” He didn’t respond to my requests for an exact time estimate.
I paced the tiny metal box and checked my watch again. 10:30 p.m. That was fine. Even if the rescue crew took an hour, I’d make it to the Empire State Building before midnight.
God, I hoped it didn’t take them an hour.
Someone somewhere out there must’ve heard my prayers, because two technicians showed up twenty minutes later and got me out. I stayed just long enough to thank them before I was off again.
11:05 p.m.
The late December air was a welcome breath of cold after the claustrophobia-inducing elevator, and I made it all the way to Thirty-Fourth Street, where the Empire State Building was located, before I came to a screeching halt. Metal barricades lined both sides of the street, preventing me from crossing. I’d seen them on my way here and assumed they’d end before I reached my destination; clearly, I’d been wrong.
I approached a nearby police officer and forced a polite smile. “Hi, can you tell me what’s going on?” I gestured at the maddening makeshift fortress. “I’m trying to get to the Empire State Building.”
“Annual Snowflake Parade.” The bored-looking officer jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Whole avenue’s shut down. If you want to go to the other side of the street, you gotta go around.”
I stifled a groan. How had I forgotten about one of the city’s worst traditions? I’d assumed the crowds were your typical tourists flocking to the city for the holidays, but no, it was a whole parade for a completely uninteresting natural phenomena.
“Go around where?”
He told me, and I almost cursed out loud when I calculated how long it’d take me to reach the closest open cross street.
The building was right there. I could see it glittering across the way, its spire piercing the night sky. It would take me at least forty minutes to get there via the alternate route—maybe more, considering the crowds—but I had no choice; the parade had started, and there was no way I’d make it over the barriers without being tackled by a member of NYPD’s finest.
Instead of wasting more time by arguing, I turned and booked it toward uptown. I wasn’t a mathematician, but even I knew that three-inch heels plus throngs of slow-moving, selfie-taking loiterers did not equal speed or comfort.
When I reached the cross street, I was sweaty, frazzled, and wheezing for breath.
New Year’s resolution: do more cardio. Yoga and Pilates had not prepared me for trekking through the city in Manolo Blahniks.
The other side of the avenue was equally as crowded, but at least I didn’t have to clear an entire parade. Whoever came up with the concept of parades in general deserved to be shot.
I elbowed my way past the crush of people. Halfway through, someone slammed into me so hard my teeth actually rattled. I looked up, ready to rip the guy a new one.
Green eyes, brutally handsome face. He looked oddly familiar, enough so that it gave me pause, but he disappeared before I had the chance to say a single word.
It was just as well. I didn’t have time to get into it with a stranger, no matter how rude he’d been.
11:47 p.m.
I picked up my speed and nearly knocked over a woman in a white snowflake hat.
