Under the Cornerstone (15 page)

“Noely,” Jimmy calls out to me.

I shake my head and turn around. I don’t take my eyes off Johnny until I have to, looking over my shoulder at him as I walk away. Eventually, I come to the cross street and take a right to purposely get out of sight. My eyes leave him as I walk past the first building, but my heart stays right there in his hand.

Chapter Sixteen
 

I walked around Brooklyn that night until the sun came up. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to face any of them. I’d fallen in love with my best friend, but I couldn’t have him. I didn’t want anyone to see how fucking bad it hurt. I can’t be angry with anyone but myself. I know Johnny better than anyone else, and yet I still let myself fall down the rabbit hole. All those girls whose heart’s he broke, the very ones I held, I know what it feels like now. God, no wonder they were so fucking hysterical and heart-sore.

I snuck into my apartment through the courtyard at nine that morning. Johnny had taped a note to my door.

Noe,

It’s not what you think. Please call me back. I love you.

Johnny

I didn’t call him back. I took care of a few business matters and followed up with some clients concerning designs they had requested. It was then that I found an email from a potential new client. It was a gift. This new client was referred to me by someone I’d worked with at Kohler & Kohler, which was odd, but I didn’t have the energy to question it. The gift, they needed someone immediately, and in California. Twenty-eight hundred miles away from Brooklyn, away from all the memories that pervade my world on a daily basis.

I called the client, Alex Bradbury, on a Sunday morning and pretended to want more information about the project he had in mind. He was some kind of millionaire entrepreneur who was opening an upscale 1920’s themed restaurant and bar. I only half-way listened to him. He seemed passionate, he had a sexy voice, and most importantly, this job was huge and likely to last close to three months or a little longer. I would be in California for at least three months, and right now I needed an escape. He fired his graphic artist and interior designer, so he wanted me now. I needed out of Brooklyn now. And he was paying me handsomely for the last minute contract.

I call Roxy and Sabrina and ask them over to help me pack. I book a flight and shower as I wait on them. When they show, they don’t ask me not to leave. They don’t ask me why I was leaving. They know. I have to leave for a little while. I have to leave behind all the moments in my life, the moments with Johnny, that brought me to this very moment. I need to throw myself into work and I need to do that in a different location. I’m not sure if California will be far enough to run away from the epiphany I had tonight.

I’m in love with Johnny, but he’d never really be mine. He’s a shooting star. He’s meant to shine, and when things shine everyone wants to touch and possess them.

The girl’s ride in a taxi with me to the airport in silence. They hug me tightly on the curb at JFK, and promise to check in on my apartment.

Sabrina hugs me last and as she holds me she says, “Sometimes it’s okay to run away. It gives you perspective. When you find what you’re looking for, call him. Fifteen years doesn’t just evaporate, Noe. You’re eventually going to have to call him. Please take care of you.”

“I will,” I say with tear-filled eyes.

I board my flight and hours later land in sunny California. Mr. Bradbury had a driver meet me and take me to an upscale hotel. It’s modern and sleek. I love the architecture and interior design. It doesn’t feel like home, but it feels new and it looks so different from New York. It is a change, and I need a change along with the distance.

“Mr. Bradbury has booked you in the Presidential Suite,” his driver informs me. “If the accommodations are not to your liking, he has requested you notify him immediately. Mr. Bradbury owns the hotel and has informed the staff, they are to ensure all of your needs are met for the remainder of your stay. If that is not the case, please notify him.”

The man spoke so properly. I was going to have to attempt to tame my Brooklyn accent.

“Thank you,” I say and exited the vehicle.

He grabs my suitcases, and twenty minutes later I’m inside the Presidential Suite feeling somewhat like a celebrity as I look around at the spacious, posh suite. Mr. Bradbury wouldn’t need to worry one bit about my comfort.

Two Months Later

“Noely, what do you think about the color scheme for the tables and linens?” Alex asks me.

The man is intense. Sometimes I think he’s made of stone. He has this sharp jaw and even sharper cheek bones. His eyes are the color of honey, and his body is toned to perfection. He often wears dark suits, but when he takes his suit jacket off, I have to remind myself to keep my eyes to myself. His ass is made of all the things women dream of when they want to hold onto something while they’re being fucked. His hair is as black as a raven, and the dark scruff on his face makes his whiskey-colored eyes even more vibrant.

He is Johnny’s exact opposite in personality and looks. Johnny is blonde-haired and blue-eyed to Alex’s dark features. Johnny is lean where Alex has wide shoulders and an intimidating height. Johnny parties and lives life like it’s always his last day on earth. Alex is all business. I make sure to wear long sleeves to work each day to hide my tattoos. I’m able to work out of the restaurant and from my hotel room. Alex is demanding. He’s easy enough to work with, but he says what he thinks. Not in the way Johnny did, though. Alex will tell you with eloquence and at times, with a vocabulary so extensive that I have to remember my SAT words. He demands perfection, and I’m okay with that since I’m a perfectionist.

We work well together. I offer my opinions when asked and he respects my input. He values it, and often uses my suggestions. He takes me seriously. I end up taking over designing the restaurant, which I’ve never done before. He also puts me in charge of hiring a chef to design the menu. I’ll design the napkins, coasters, frontage sign, uniforms, and anything else Alex asks. I’ve never worked as a project designer, but I enjoy the experience so far.

L.A. has been kind to me. It’s a melting pot much like New York, but something about the palm trees, sun, and beaches puts me at ease when I need it most. Johnny calls for a month after I left Brooklyn. His last message said he was writing me off. He said I’d broken his heart. That hurt, but it’s best we break each other’s hearts when we did, instead of months or years down the road. I still talk to Rich, Ryan, Jimmy, Carmine, Sabrina, and Roxy. We don’t mention Johnny. It’s an unspoken rule. We all pretend I didn’t run away from New York. No one asks why I ran. I’m not sure if they understand without the words or if they’re waiting for the moment when I’m ready to talk about it.

“I think you should go with scarlet. You’ve ensured every component of this design is reflective of the era. If you go with white or black, it would wash out the visual experience at the table. The floors and bar are extremely dark. The linens should bring color to the room. I think you should use scarlet and gold in the cigar room for the furniture and accent pieces as well,” I reply.

He quirks a smile at me showing a dimple, “I love that you get the vision.”

I nod and advise him, “I’ve made appointments with four of the city’s top chefs for you to meet with over the next two weeks.”

“That’s great, Noely,” he looks at me with those intense eyes.

“Thanks. I’m heading out. If you need anything, just text or call,” I tell him.

“Hey,” he says and reaches out to me. “Have you… have you had dinner?”

He looks like a different person right now. He doesn’t exactly resemble the man I’ve worked closely with for two months. He looks unsure of himself, and insecure is not an adjective I would ever use to describe Alex Bradbury.

“No. I was going to stop for something on the way home.”

“Let me take you out to a place I know. You’ve worked so hard and you flew to L.A. at the last minute to help me with this. It’s the least I could do to say thank you,” he holds my gaze.

I smile up at him, “You’re paying me very well. That’s thanks enough.”

“Don’t make a man eat alone tonight,” he chuckles.

“Well, when you put it like that… “

“I have a reputation to uphold and all. It’s expected of me to eat my meals with beautiful women. I’d look pitiful if I ask for a table for one,” he winks.

My stomach growls on cue.

“I guess we have your answer,” he says in a playful tone I’ve never heard.

I laugh, “I guess so. Should I change?”

“No. What you’re wearing is fine.”

He escorts me out to an expensive car. I’ve never owned a car since there’s nowhere to park in New York, so I have no idea what the car is, but it’s sporty and sleek. It screams elegance at the same time. Alex opens my door for me, so I smile up at him and then and thank him.

“Buckle up,” he commands as he shuts my door.

The ride to the restaurant is a little tense with silence, but I try not to show it. I guess he makes me a little nervous.

He pulls up to the valet stand, hands a guy his keys, and opens my door for me. He offers his hand to help me out, so I accept it. When he shuts the door, his hand lands at my lower back as we make our way to the hostess stand.

“Mr. Bradbury, I was able to get you a table for two tonight,” the woman says.

She eyes him up and down.

I know. He’s hot.

His hand remains at my lower back as we walk to the back of the restaurant. He pulls my chair out at the table.

And they say chivalry is dead. A girl could get used to being treated like a queen.

I imagine myself with a massive crown on my head and let out a chuckle.

“What’s funny?” he asks as he sits down across from me.

“Nothing. I… I just have these thoughts sometimes that make me laugh.”

He quirks an eyebrow, “Do tell.”

“Ah, I assure you, digging around in my brain might be adverse to your health.”

He gives me a hint of a smirk, “I’m sure it’s not that bad. What is it? Daddy issues? Broken heart? I’m pretty sure I’ve heard it all.”

“Both?” I smile back in an attempt not to look ashamed at my issues.

“Is your dad in your life?”

“No. He left when I was a kid and created a new family in the same city. My mom died when I was twelve. I fell in love with my best friend, and I ran away to California to heal,” I word vomit.

“Ah. Love is full of blurry lines. There are so many types of love and sometimes those lines fade and blur. It can be confusing to the heart and hell on the mind. Sometimes you aren’t sure where the lines begin and end.”

“Wow. Well said. It sounds like you’ve had personal experience,” I reply.

“My heart was broken six years ago. I was engaged. I found her with my best friend in my bed two weeks before the wedding. I lost the woman I loved and my best friend of twenty years in a matter of seconds,” he admits.

“Shit,” is my response.

He lets out a humorless laugh, “Yeah. Look, I don’t usually tell people my personal business…”

“Neither do I,” I interrupt him.

“Stays between us?” he asks.

“Of course. I don’t need the entire world knowing how pathetic I am again,” I shrug.

“Again?”

I explain Blood Feather, the guys, Tony, and Johnny over dinner. I give him a synopsis of my life story. He tells me more about the woman he loved, and that eventually loving someone you can’t have even when they offer themselves to you gets easier with time.

We drink wine, and eventually he takes me home. I ask him to drop me at the front of the hotel to make it easier on both of us in this horrible traffic.

“Noely,” he grabs my wrist as I open my door. “You’re beautiful, smart, and witty. There aren’t many women who possess all three of those attributes. You’re a diamond in the rough. You deserve to come first. Don’t ever settle for less.”

I give him a sideways grin, “Thank you. I won’t.”

Chapter Seventeen

Two Months Later

Two more months pass by and my time in L.A. is coming to an end. The restaurant is due to open in two weeks. Alex asks me to stay on two weeks after the opening to help with any issues that might arise.

We’ve become close friends. While his attractiveness is still unnerving at times, he never crosses any professional or friendly lines. We eat late dinners together a lot. Most nights it’s takeout eaten over work. Sometimes we take small breaks for our sanity, and hang out in parks or even watch old movies in a small theater not far from the restaurant.

One Sunday, he takes me to San Pedro to hike to the Sunken City. In 1929, a landslide caused houses, streets, streetcar tracks and sidewalks to fall into the Pacific Ocean. We have to crawl over a large cement wall, and then over a metal fence to reach the Sunken City. It’s surreal to see what Mother Nature can do when she decides to swallow you whole. Life once existed here. What is now in the ocean and jumbled at the edge of it was once inhabited by families, and driven on by cars. Street cars traveled up and down where we stand. Alex surprises me as he unloads paint supplies from his backpack and tells me to paint to my heart’s desire. Several other murals already surround the area. Graffiti tags cover other areas, so I smile and leave my own mark.