Watch and See Page 19

  “Me. I messed that up. I followed you and invaded your personal space.” My heart beats faster as I recall past encounters with Wyatt. “I know what that’s like, and it feels awful and scary. I...I was just lonely, and you were...You were there, even when you didn’t know it, even when I didn’t know you. And after I met you, I didn’t want to mess it up, but I did anyway by not telling you.” I sniffle because that no-crying thing didn’t work. “I’m sorry I did that.”

  “You already apologized, and I’m not mad.” Luke’s hand squeezes mine, forcing me to look at him.

  I can see it on his face. He means it. His eyes are so soft. When he blinks, his eyelashes touch his cheeks. They look soft too. Even the hair on his face looks soft.

  “Thanks for telling me why you did what you did,” I say.

  “Thanks for listening.”

  “I’m so sorry they left you.” I know how that feels, people have left me too.

  “Harper, I know this doesn’t explain everything, but I will get there, if you’ll give me a chance.”

  A chance? What does that mean?

  “I want to...I want to see you, talk to you,” he continues, answering my question without me asking. “If you’re willing to give me a chance, I’d like that.”

  I smile, wiping a stray tear off my cheek. Nodding, I press my lips together. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  “Is therapy helping?” I ask, needing to know more about what he’s been doing in our time apart.

  He smiles for the first time in a few minutes. “Yeah. I think so...hope so.”

  “That’s good.”

  There are still so many things unsaid, but this is a beginning...a start. And for the first time since we met, or since I saw him, there aren’t any secrets.

  Secrets are shit. Secrets mess everything up.

  “So, you come here every Thursday?” I ask, and he smiles like the cat that ate the canary.

  Harper

  “Fremont Rehabilitation. How can I direct your call?”

  “Uh, this is Harper Evans. I’m calling to speak with Sadie Evans.”

  “Identification number, please.”

  I give her the number and wait. The elevator music is practically putting me to sleep when she finally comes back on the line.

  “Mrs. Evans is not taking phone calls at this time.”

  “Oh...uh, okay. Well, can you tell her that her daughter called?”

  “I can leave a message with her counselor.”

  “Thank you.”

  I hang up and sit down on the step outside of the library. Did she choose to reject my call? I called once last week, and they told me she couldn’t have calls until she was moved to a regular room, which would happen this week. I guess I could go see her, but I’m not sure if I want to. I just want to make sure she’s okay. Does that even matter anymore? I don’t know. Letting out a sigh, I stand and walk back into the library.

  “You look like you just spilled your latte,” Mia says as I sit in the chair beside her at the front desk. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “Just tried to call and check on Sadie, but she wouldn’t take my call.”

  “Her loss.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Seriously, Harper. You’ve gone above and beyond for that woman.”

  I begin working on a stack of books that need to be scanned. I don’t expect Mia to understand. Hell, I don’t even understand. I’ve let the guilt go, or I’m trying, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care. For all the same messed up reasons as before, one of those being the fact that she’s still my mother, I need to know she’s okay.

  So, what’s up with you and your love triangle?” Mia asks without looking up from her work.

  “It’s not a love triangle.” I snort, shaking my head, because it is so not a love triangle. There’s no love involved. No one has said anything about love except Luke, when he alluded to the fact that he was falling for me.

  Was. Past tense.

  “Okay,” Mia says, sliding her glasses to the top of her head and swiveling around in her chair. “How are you dealing with Luke being back in the picture? Are you still seeing Anton? Do they know about each other?” She arches one of her well-groomed eyebrows and crosses her arms over her well-endowed chest, waiting for me to answer.

  “Luke and I are talking. Or... we talked. He wanted a chance to explain his actions, so I listened. We both apologized for the shit we did and the damage we caused, and that’s it.” With an exhale, I lean back in my chair before continuing. “Anton is a good friend. And no, they don’t know about each other. Well, Luke did overhear a call I took from Anton, but that’s it.”

  “So, you were starting to have feelings for Anton, and you’ve never stopped having feelings for Luke. Am I right?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “So, you’re going to have to decide what it is you want...or who, rather.”

  I turn back around and busy myself with books. I know Mia is right, but honestly, I’m not used to having a choice. And is it really my choice? I don’t even know if Luke still feels the way he once did. During our conversation, all he said was that he was falling for me and that he wanted another chance, but that could just be a chance at friendship.

  And Anton...I don’t know. I like being around him, and he makes me feel better, but I don’t know if that’s enough.

  Do I love him?

  No.

  Could I love him?

  I don’t know.

  Do I love Luke?

  No.

  Could I love Luke?

  Yes.

  I don’t even have to think about it. That answer is yes.

  §

  On my way to Mr. Chan’s, I feel a few flutters in my stomach when I think about Luke possibly being there. He didn’t say he’d come this week. But he knows I’ll be there, so I guess I’m hoping he’ll come. Okay, no guessing about it...I’m hoping he’ll come.

  When I get to the corner where I can see his building, for the briefest moment, I glance up. I can’t see his floor from here. The building between his and Mr. Chan’s blocks my view, but I wonder if he’s there.

  The light turns green, so I hurry across the street and into the restaurant. As I open the door, I scan the room, looking for the mess of dark hair, but it’s not there. Not at the small table by the window. Not at the counter.

  There’s a man and a woman sitting at the table closest to the door and a guy ordering, but that’s it.

  My heart sinks a little.

  “Come in, Harper,” Mr. Chan demands from behind the counter. “You let heat out.”

  “Sorry,” I call out, letting the door close behind me. I didn’t realize I was still holding it open.

  “You need soup today,” he says, scooping up a bowl without asking.

  “Yes,” I tell him, smiling at his old man ways—always so bossy, saying exactly what he’s thinking. “It’s freezing out there.”

  “You need gloves.”

  Now that he mentions it, my hands feel like ice cubes. It turned cold so fast I haven’t had a chance to dig through my box and look for the old black pair I’ve always used. I blow on my hands to warm them up.

  “You need hot tea too.” He hands me a tray with a bowl of soup, extra wontons, and a piping hot cup of tea.

  “Thank you, Mr. Chan.”

  He smiles. “How’s classes?”

  “Good,” I tell him, remembering the sheet I printed out from my computer. I pull it out of my bag and hand it over to him. “All A’s. See?”

  His round cheeks push up to his eyes, nearly closing them all the way, and his mouth twists into a tight smile. He pauses for a moment, looking over the paper. “Very good, Harper.” Mr. Chan nods. “Very good.”

  “Thanks.” I can’t hide the smile. It feels good. The first nine weeks were a hard adjustment, but these grades prove that hard work pays off.

  I sit down in my usual spot and
begin eating my soup. It’s hard for me not to dwell on the fact that Luke didn’t show, but maybe he had things to do...or maybe he forgot.

  After I finish eating, I pull out a book and begin reading. Lately, I’ve had so much school work that I haven’t been able to read for the fun of it. So I decided to reward myself for my good grades by bringing a book instead of school work to Mr. Chan’s.

  I’m lost in prose when a figure standing close to the window catches my eye.

  I do a double take, realizing Luke is standing there, watching me.

  He smiles.

  I smile.

  He motions with his head for me to come out.

  I look around and see that the restaurant is empty. It’s already dark outside. Mr. Chan is whistling while he cleans in the kitchen, and I feel bad for leaving him. I usually stay to help clean up. Gathering my bowl and mug, I pick the tray up and carry it to the counter. “Mr. Chan,” I call out.

  “Just leave it on counter.”

  “Do you need some help tonight?”

  “No, too late. You hurry home,” he says, peeking his head around the corner. “See you next Wednesday.”

  “Okay.”

  He goes back to cleaning, and I go back for my book and my bag.

  Luke is still standing outside the window when I walk out the door.

  “Are you stalking me?” The words are out before I even have a chance to think about what I’m saying. I cover my mouth with my hand, and my eyes grow wide.

  Luke’s face cracks into a wide smile, and then he’s laughing so hard his head is thrown back, exposing his neck. I laugh too, uncontrollably.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally manage to say. “I...I didn’t mean it like…”

  “The look on your face,” Luke huffs out a final laugh. “Cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Sometimes, I wish I could take the words that leave my mouth and cram them back inside.”

  “Please don’t.” He shakes his head and wipes his watery eyes. “I love the way you say things without thinking.”

  I clear my throat and bite down on my lip to keep from smiling. “Yeah, well, it makes me look like an idiot sometimes.”

  “Who cares?” His eyes narrow in on me and I feel my stomach flip. He smiles, but this time it’s different. It’s like he’s smiling just because he’s really happy. It’s one of those smiles people give when they’re in the exact place they want to be.

  “Yeah, who cares?” I reply a little breathless. Luke has always had this effect on me.

  “Can I walk you home?”

  “What? No, you don’t want to do that. It’s a long walk.”

  He locks me in with his gaze, before replying. “That’s okay. I’ve got time.” The words are slow and intentional.

  “Okay,” I tell him. I want to say more, but okay will have to do for now.

  We walk down the sidewalk, leaving a few inches between us, except for when a group of guys crowds us and forces us into each other. Luke’s hand goes to the small of my back, and even through my jacket, I can feel the heat from his touch.

  Once we’re on a less crowded portion of the street, we begin making small talk about the weather and people we pass. It reminds me of how easy it is to talk to Luke, and I’m grateful he’s here.

  “This is the boutique I work at on Tuesday and Thursday evenings,” I say as we pass by Mrs. Jackson’s.

  “You have two jobs?” he asks, pausing to look inside the window.

  “Yeah, living in the city isn’t cheap. And I’m trying to save money for my own place one of these days. I can’t live with my friends forever.”

  “So, that’s where you moved?” he asks, and I realize there’s a lot he doesn’t know—people he doesn’t know. I want him to know them.

  “Yeah, Layla and Connor gave me a sweet deal on a bedroom.” I look over at him and smile.

  Luke looks back at me with a smirk. “Look at you, Harper Evans...working two jobs, going to school.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, thinking about stopping there, but continuing. “I thought about leaving, you know.”

  It takes me a second to realize that Luke has stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I turn around to see him standing there with a somewhat shocked expression on his face.

  “What?” he asks, looking at me intensely.

  “Yeah, um...After what happened at the therapy session, and then that day at the church...I just felt like my life was out of control, and I didn’t know how to take it back. I wanted out...of everything—the city, my life.”

  “But you stayed. What made you change your mind?”

  “My friends, Layla and Mia. They convinced me to stay; that there wasn’t anything left for me back home. They were right.”

  “I’m glad you stayed,” he says with relief evident in his tone.

  “Me too.”

  We begin walking again, and I suddenly feel the need to tell him about Anton, due to the new ‘No Secrets Policy’ and all. But I don’t know how to tell him without sounding stupid. I just want him to know. I don’t want to be on this path of reconciliation and make a mistake before we can even get very far.

  “I’ve been seeing someone.”

  Luke slows but doesn’t stop, and I watch him from my peripheral vision, trying to gauge his reaction. I swear I didn’t just blurt that out to get a response from him, but damn if I’m not feeling a surge of hopefulness by the way his jaw tightens.

  He shoves his hands down into the pockets of his jeans and continues to walk a slow, steady pace beside me.

  “That’s good, Harper,” he finally says. The same tightness I can see in his jaw reflects in his voice.

  He’s trying.

  “His name is Anton.”

  We’re trying.

  We don’t talk much after that admission. We just walk. And when we get to Layla and Connor’s apartment building, I slow to a stop, letting him know we’ve arrived.

  “Thank you for walking me home.” Thank you for showing up tonight. Thank you for being here...for making an effort. Thank you.

  “Thank you for letting me.”

  I smile and pull my jacket tighter. Let him...It sounds so funny. There was a time I would’ve begged him.

  “Would you meet me for dinner tomorrow night?” he asks. “As friends, of course.” The twinkle in his eye and the smirk on his lips nearly force me into a trance. I’m almost ready to say yes when I realize what day it is.

  “I can’t.” It’s abrupt, and his expression shifts. “I work. On Thursday nights, I work.”

  “Oh, right. The boutique.” He nods and takes a deep breath. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see ya around.”

  He backs away, hands still in his pockets, smirk back on his lips, and I watch him until he gets to the corner.

  I watch him take a deep breath.

  I watch a silent word pass his lips as he shakes his head and finally turns around.

  When I can no longer see his retreating form, I make my way up the steps and into the building.

  §

  As I walk through the store, running the feather duster over shelves and racks, I can’t help thinking about Luke and the fact that he’s probably at Mr. Chan’s right now eating dinner. I wish I could be there with him—just as friends, of course. I’ve missed his company...missed talking to him and feeling like there’s somebody who really understands me. I’ve missed him.

  The chime on the door and the cool breeze that follows bring me out of my thoughts. A lady in a bright blue trench coat and matching gloves walks into the store. Her dark hair is sleek and short, setting off her olive complexion and deep brown eyes. She’s beautiful.

  “Can I help you?” I ask, setting the duster behind the counter and meeting her in the middle of the store.

  “I’m Chelsea Bertolini,” she says, taking her gloves off and tucking them into the pocket of her coat. “I believe you know my son.”

  Of course.

>   “Anton.”

  “Yes, Anton.” I can tell by the way she says his name that he hung the moon and stars in her world. The couple of times Anton has spoken of his mom, it’s been with nothing less than the utmost respect and admiration. The fact that she’s here, in the store—alone with me—makes me nervous. Making good first impressions isn’t really my strong suit, especially with someone like her—crisp lines, color coordinated everything, not to mention the mother of someone I’m...what? Interested in? Seeing? What are we exactly?

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” I tell her.

  “Likewise, dear.” She leans in and squeezes my shoulders, placing air kisses on both sides of my cheeks. “I’ve been telling Anton he needs to bring you home so I can meet you properly, but apparently you’re a very busy girl.”

  I blush, feeling like I already have a strike against me, and I’ve only just met her. “Uh, well, I am working two jobs and taking a full load of courses.”

  “So I hear. How much longer do you have before you graduate?”

  “Oh, I just started. I’m taking my gen ed courses through City College.”

  “I see. Do you know what you’d like your major to be?”

  I feel like this is the Spanish Inquisition, and there’s no one here to rescue me.

  “Maybe something in Literature or English?” I really don’t know. I know a few things I’d like to do, but I’m crossing that bridge when I get there.

  She hums and begins to peruse the racks. I know she’s a regular, but she’s never been in here on the evenings I work. “Anton will be by in a little while. He’s taking me out for dinner. I just closed on a seventy-million-dollar real estate deal.”

  Seventy? Did she say seventy million? As in real dollars?

  “Wow.” I try to keep my voice even and not show my shock, but it’s damn hard because seventy million dollars. “Congratulations. That’s amazing.”

  “Have you ever thought about going into real estate?”

  I know that’s what Anton does. He’s told me a little about his job, but we usually tend to stick to topics we both enjoy, like coffee, books, and music. I didn’t realize real estate was a family business.

  “No...No, I’ve never thought about real estate.”

  “Anton’s father worked for Sotheby’s.” She says that like I’m supposed to know what or who that is, but I don’t.