Cruel King, page 4
“Sorry, sorry!”
“You look drowned.”
I brushed my hair off my shoulders. It looked much darker when it was wet. The lavender deepening to a gray-purple. But I hadn’t had time to blow-dry it. Not when I had enough hair that even with a fancy blow-dryer, it took a half hour to dry on a good day.
“Yeah. But I’m here, and I haven’t had coffee.”
Lark shook her head. “Come on. Let’s get you some coffee before we meet Cassie. She’s the best real estate agent in the business. She works for my dad in commercial real estate but helps out friends and family for personal residences.”
Larkin St. Vincent was heir to the St. Vincent’s Resorts conglomerate. They had resorts and villas all over the world for their upper echelon clientele. We’d gone to one in Puerto Rico for two weeks over Christmas three years ago. That was where Gavin and I had fallen into bed.
But Lark had no interest in the family fortune. She was Upper East Side through and through, but now, she worked for Leslie Kensington on her mayoral campaign as the head campaign manager. She’d helped get her elected to her second term despite Court acting like the train wreck he’d been before he met English, and she’d been with the mayor ever since.
“Thanks for doing this,” I told Lark after I had coffee securely in my hands and could function as a human being again.
“You know me, I love to help.”
“Well, I appreciate it. I know you’re busy with the election in November.”
“Things are picking up,” she agreed. “But it’ll really get busy in the fall. English’s wedding couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“And here I thought that was the point.”
Lark rolled her eyes. “I told Leslie to plan it for after or to have it in the summer when she wouldn’t be quite so busy.”
“But she saw English and Court’s wedding as a chip in the campaign game.”
“Don’t tell English.”
“Oh, she knows exactly what family she’s marrying into.”
“She wants to elope,” Lark said. “I’d be for it if Leslie wouldn’t have a fit.”
“Plus, you want to be there.”
Lark grinned. “Well, yes. I love English, but I didn’t get to see Penn and Natalie get married.”
Once upon a time, there had been a group of Upper East Side teenagers who were so obsessed with each other that they had their own name—Crew. Cruel Crew, if the rumors could be believed. Penn Kensington, Katherine Van Pelt, Larkin St. Vincent, Lewis Warren, and Archibald Rowe ruled the Upper East Side. They were inseparable. Then, Natalie had appeared, and the fissures in the group had turned into chasms. They still met every Labor Day weekend at the Kensingtons’ Hamptons home, but it wasn’t the same. And maybe that was for the better.
Natalie and Penn had eloped. Katherine and Camden had gotten married in the city. Everyone went on with their lives.
We stopped in front of a building just off of Central Park. My heart skipped as I looked up at the towering thing. I couldn’t believe that I could afford an apartment here. It had been my goal the last time I was here, but it had felt unattainable. Just a dream. Like I’d never really fit in with all these fancy Upper East Siders.
Not a girl from Dallas, Texas, who had shunned everything her parents stood for. Mom and Dad were wealthy in a Texas way. Land and ranching and horses. They were Junior Leaguers and country clubbers and the sort. They’d wanted to turn their daughter into the beautiful, brainless blonde that matched the rest of the town.
My brother was home, married to the version of me that I would have become if I’d stayed, with the requisite two and a half children. They went to the right schools and participated in the right activities and belonged to the right clubs. They were everything that I wasn’t.
My first dream had been to sing. They’d laughed at me when I brought it up. It was one thing to sing in the church choir. It was another thing to sing at weddings on the weekends for extra money. Another thing entirely to want to go to LA to pursue a singing career.
They wanted a daughter to fit a mold and find a good husband, not to be a starving artist in LA, pursuing a once-in-a-lifetime dream. A dream they made clear that I wasn’t good enough for and they wouldn’t support.
I was supposed to go to college to find a husband. When that didn’t happen, I went on to medical school because it looked good to level up my MRS degree, not to actually become a doctor. Certainly not a plastic surgeon.
Not that I could do anything right in their eyes. Plastic surgery had worked out. They’d been right about my voice. The dream was too far-fetched. I didn’t sing in front of anyone anymore. But I hadn’t gotten that MRS degree either.
I was better for it now that I was looking at a Central Park–facing apartment.
Lark introduced me to Cassie, and we toured the home. Lark shot me a look and shook her head. The one that I’d missed earlier that morning was nicer. We skipped to the next one and the next and the next.
They were all wonderful in their own way. Much nicer than where I’d lived last time I was in the city. I’d been making good money. But good money didn’t buy you much in the city. Only legacy money or stupid money did that. And now, I—who was far, far from the trust funds of my peers—was making stupid money. So, I would hold out for the apartment.
“Oh,” I whispered as we stepped into the last one on our list.
“Now, this one is a little higher than your initial price point. The building fees are double, which I understand is a sticking point,” Cassie said, walking me through the apartment. “But it has a doorman and bell service. There’s a whole list of amenities, including twenty-four-hour-a-day security, a courtyard, a gym, and a rooftop pool.”
I tuned out the rest of the sales pitch as I walked through the apartment in a daze. It was perfect. Modern and sleek. Everything was updated and fresh. It smelled like a new home.
Lark came to my side in the master bedroom, which had a view overlooking the park, and arched an eyebrow. “You like this one?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too.”
I glanced at her. She was hiding something. “What?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Lark, I can read you. It’s been three years, but I’m not stupid.”
Lark laughed. “Most people can’t see my tells.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I suppose not.” She ran a hand back through her red hair and smirked at me. “Gavin lives in this building.”
I froze at those words. They hadn’t been what I was expecting at all. “What? I thought he lived by Court.”
“He did. He moved last year.”
“Oh.”
Lark grinned. “Is that a problem?”
“Why would it be?”
“Well, you were all over each other last night.”
I blinked. “Uh … we were?”
“God, how drunk were you?”
“I don’t know. Katherine and I started drinking in the afternoon. I was pretty gone when everyone showed up.”
“Did you hook up?”
I shook my head. “I would have remembered that.”
Lark snorted. “God, let’s hope so.”
“Well?” Cassie said with a kind smile. “This is my favorite. What about you?”
I nodded. “Mine too.”
“When you said it was more, how much more?” Lark asked.
“Let me pull up the information for you.”
Lark followed her into the kitchen. I took my phone out and snapped a picture of the bedroom with the view. I bit my lip and then sent the picture to Gavin.
What do you think?
I didn’t expect a response right away, but my phone dinged almost immediately.
Is that an invitation?
I snorted. Typical Gavin.
It’s an apartment I’m looking at.
That’s quite a view, Bowen.
I grinned.
I thought so too.
Moving up in the world.
Lark tells me this is your building.
The ellipses that said he was typing was visible for a minute before disappearing. I frowned. What had he been planning to say?
It’s a great building. The people are nice, and the rooms are soundproof, so you can’t hear your neighbors. You’d like it.
I reread the text. He was pitching the building to me. As if everything was totally normal and being in each other’s orbit like this wouldn’t be difficult for him. Maybe I’d read everything wrong about him.
That’s good to know. Anything else?
Well … as your friend, I have to tell you … the coffee downstairs sucks. I go out of my way every morning to get the good stuff.
Friend. As his friend.
Words I’d never heard Gavin utter. We were friends. Of course we were. I’d been his wingman long before things changed. But there had always been some kind of undercurrent between us. He would only say we were friends if there was no chance that this was going to happen.
“Whit?” Lark called from the kitchen.
I shook myself out of that train of thought and headed toward her. “Hey, sorry.”
“What do you think?”
I glanced down at the text again. Well, there was no reason to be worried about seeing Gavin King on the regular if we were just friends. Wasn’t that what I wanted anyway?
Just because I had feelings for him didn’t mean that I had to act on them. It would be better if I didn’t. Things had been terrible after Robert found out and I bailed. I didn’t want to ruin anything. I didn’t want to run again.
“This is the one,” I told them both.
“Excellent,” Cassie said, beaming. “We’ll get started on the paperwork. I have a friend at the bank who can expedite the purchasing process.”
Lark threw her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re buying a place. It feels so permanent.”
“Don’t try to scare a girl away.”
She laughed. “I know you don’t like anything permanent, but you’re here to stay. None of us want you to leave ever again.”
And neither did I.
6
Whitley
Three weeks later, I moved into my new apartment. Katherine insisted on throwing a welcome party. Having all of my friends in my new place was magic. Katherine certainly knew how to throw a party, and there was enough charcuterie and finger food for me to munch on for the rest of the week after everyone left.
That night, Gavin had been as friendly as he’d been in text. Nothing out of place. Not any more or less flirtatious than normal. He was doing an incredible job of pretending like nothing had ever happened between us.
I was confused by it all, but I couldn’t deny that it made me relax. There had been this undercurrent of fear in every interaction before this. That every moment was being watched and judged and filed away for later about what Gavin and I were going to do. Even my friends had been waiting.
Once they saw that nothing was different, they’d all backed off. They still wanted us to get together. But the excitement of will they, won’t they was gone.
We were friends. Just friends.
The Monday after I had my housewarming party, a knock sounded at my door. I’d just finished blowing out my hair and thrown on something for work.
I yanked open the door to find Gavin King standing there with two cups of coffee. “Hey, neighbor.”
I blinked. “Hey.”
“Got you coffee before heading to the office.”
“Oh, thank you.” I took the cup in my hand and blew on the top. I took a sip and glanced up at him in surprise. “This is delicious.”
“Yeah, I told you, you have to go around the block to get the good stuff.”
“Well, you were right.”
“As per usual,” he said with a smile. “You headed out?”
“I have to finish my makeup, and then yeah. You have to go?”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I have to be in at seven thirty. Try to leave a half hour ahead of time with the car service.” He trailed off as he saw me eyeing him. “What?”
“Car service? In this city? What a pain. Just take the subway.”
He looked at me for a minute, as if he’d never considered the possibility.
I laughed at him. “Go to work, King. Thanks for the coffee.”
I closed the door on him and finished my makeup. Work was grueling. Dr. Varma was already trying to lay on more responsibilities. I’d only been there a few weeks, and I could see that he was itching to take the entire summer off to visit family in Pakistan.
I didn’t have any plans until English’s wedding. I’d left all my wedding invites and party plans and the rest of my life back in LA. As long as I kept my weekends for my sanity, I’d be fine.
The next four days, Gavin appeared with coffee at my door promptly at seven in the morning. On the fifth day, when it didn’t appear, I peeked through my door in confusion. Maybe I’d gotten used to him bringing me my morning fix.
I worked on my makeup and grabbed a light jacket and my purse before heading down the elevator. I left earlier than normal so that I could find this coffee shop that he’d proven was the best.
But when I stepped off the elevator, Gavin was standing there with two cups of coffee in his hands.
He laughed when he saw me. “Sorry, running late.”
“You don’t have to do this every morning.” Even if I liked it. “I can get my own coffee, you know?”
“Sure,” he said, handing me my coffee. “But if I’m going anyway …”
“Then, you can take your car service straight to your office instead of walking all the way back up to my apartment.”
He grinned. “What do you have against my car service? I could drive you?”
“Or you could take the subway with me.”
“I’ll stick with being above ground, thank you.”
I snorted as we passed through the front doors. A sleek black car waited out front.
“Well, that’s me,” he said with a grin. “Until Monday.”
“You really don’t have to get me coffee,” I said, holding the cup in my hand protectively.
“Ah, but then I wouldn’t get to see you in the morning.”
I rolled my eyes. “Such a flirt, King.”
“You’re the one who moved into my building, Bowen. These are the consequences.”
Then, he hopped into his car and disappeared into the New York City traffic.
What an infuriating man. Yet I couldn’t stop smiling.
Coffee continued for another week. I’d make sure I was finished getting dressed by the time that he brought it, so we could take the elevator downstairs together. He’d hop into his little black car and drive away while I traipsed to the subway to get to work. Showing up a half hour early wasn’t a problem. In fact, it was almost necessary with paperwork stacking up in my office. I had client meetings all day and surgeries the rest of the week. Though it was a tremendous amount of work, I never regretted a minute of it. I loved it. I loved it more than my work in LA.
As Dr. Varma made his plans for the summer, he encouraged me to take time off when I needed it. My time off was in my hands. He didn’t want me to burn out.
Maybe there was something in the coffee that was placed in my hands every morning because I felt more invigorated than ever. The doctor laughed at me and called me young.
In time, I’d need more time off.
But plan for it?
I shrugged it off.
After another week, I started meeting Gavin downstairs to go to the coffee shop with him. The place was magic. My regular black coffee was phenomenal, but I tried all the varieties that he recommended. An iced Americano was probably my favorite, but unsurprisingly, I was really into lavender lattes.
We were walking back to the apartment so that he could catch his car for work when he touched my arm and pulled me in the wrong direction.
“Uh, where are we going?” I asked.
“I told my car service to come back tomorrow.”
I blinked at him in surprise. “You did what? How are you getting to work? Oh my god, are you playing hooky?”
He laughed. “When I take off at my own company, it’s not playing hooky, Whit. I’m the boss. I can take off when I want. So can you.”
“Right. Still not used to that. So, what are you doing?”
“I was going to take the subway. With you.”
“What?” I asked in disbelief. “You hate the subway.”
“I don’t hate it,” he said with a laugh. “I’m a New Yorker after all. It’s a way of life. I just prefer the morning to myself in the car.”
“Then, why are you taking the subway with me?”
“I thought I might spend the morning with you instead.”
I eyed him skeptically. “Why?”
“Because we’re friends. That’s what friends do.”
I didn’t believe him, but I scanned my MetroCard and saw that he had one already as well. We passed into the busy underground, taking seats on a train heading north. My office was in a fancy, stuffy part of the Upper East Side. He worked somewhere nearby. Maybe a subway stop or two away from me.
Still, he got out at my stop and laughed when I gave him another curious look.
“I can walk a few blocks, Whit. I promise, my shoes are comfortable, and it’s a beautiful day.”
It was. May was when New York finally left the dreary, wet spring behind, and the world began to bloom with clear skies and bright colors everywhere. It was hard to believe a city of steel would blossom along with the park at its heart, but it did. The world came alive.
I decided not to argue with him. Just headed inside to my building, to the mountain of work on my schedule, and left Gavin King at the door. He’d told me that he had drinks with Court and Sam after work every afternoon, which was why I never saw him around the building when I got home.
