Page 42 of She Was Made for Me

And why I can’t seem to bring myself to tell him the truth now.

“I won’t tell Rich,” Kyle murmurs, bringing me back to our conversation.

Relief washes over me at his words. “Thank you.” I do my best to shake off the memories and focus on Kyle. “I swear, I’ll keep working hard, I’ll—”

“I don’t doubt that at all.” His mouth curves into a smile as he pushes his plate away. “I think you need to workless, Vi. You can still do an excellent job while having a life outside of work.”

I look away, unconvinced. It doesn’t matter anyway—the mere fact that I’ve shared my secret with him and he hasn’t judged me, hasn’t spluttered in outrage and disbelief… I can’t describe the relief. I don’t know what inspired me to be so honest with him. He’s been like a different guy this evening, insisting I take a break, asking me about my life—and that’s before I even consider the fact that he told me I’m beautiful. Sheesh, that nearly did me in. The nicer he was to me, the more I felt that untruth sitting between us, gnawing in my gut, and in a moment of trust, I decided I wanted him to know. I didn’t want to hide anymore.

I should have known he’d be kind. He might make a show of being grumpy, bossing me around at the house and keeping me at arm’s length, but I’m coming to see that’s not who he really is. He’s the guy I met in Joe’s. The guy who bought me a new coffee to make me smile.

I know I shouldn’t be fanning the flames of this crush. As disappointed as Dad would be if he knew the truth about my career, I can’t imagine how appalled he’d be if he knew the things I’ve thought about his friend.

But I can’t seem to help myself. I’m beginning to think I’m past the point of no return. It doesn’t matter that I know Ishouldn’tget close to Kyle. I desperately want to. It’s almost as if I’m drawn to him by a force I can’t control. A force that started the day we met in Joe’s. It’s only gotten stronger since.

He pays for dinner—despite my insistence that I can pay—and we head out into the hum of Montague Street, walking slowly past groups of diners crowding the pavement. I don’t dare think about what comes next, or that this whole evening has felt like a date and I don’t want it to end. I don’t know if he’s thinking the same thing, but he also seems to be lost in his thoughts as we walk.

“Did you ever go see the Promenade?” he asks, breaking the silence. I wonder if he’s been remembering the day we met, walking through the Heights, talking about the neighborhood.

“No.” I give him a self-deprecating smile, pointing a thumb to my chest. “Workaholic, remember?”

He chuffs a laugh. “Of course. Well, I guess I’ll have to take you there now.” He hesitates, glancing at me. “You didn’t have other plans, did you?”

“You mean, besides work?”

“Right.” He rolls his eyes, smiling in that good-natured way he has. “Then I definitely have to take you, if only to make sure you have a full night off.”

I smile down at my shoes, trying to match my steps to his. He’s a lot taller than me, so his stride is longer, plus I’m in heels. He notices and slows beside me. I think about how he remembered my wine order from last week, how concerned he is about my work habits, about what I was planning to eat for dinner tonight—if I ate at all. I can’t remember the last time someone looked out for me like this, and it’s the nicest feeling.

We cross Pierrepont Place, and as we approach a path between two buildings—a huge brick apartment block on our left, a massive brownstone mansion on our right—I pause.

“Wow, this house is beautiful,” I say, gazing up at the brownstone in awe. “Look at the Renaissance revival details, like the frieze and cornice hoods on the windows, and the Corinthian pilasters on the doorway.”

I step back to get a better look at the house—it’s actually two brownstones with a continuous façade—and realize what’s missing. “Wait, I know this place. The Pierrepont mansion was right there”—I motion to the far right, where a playground now sits—“but it was demolished in the mid-twentieth century, leaving only these two.” I frown, thinking about how impressive the three buildings would have looked all together. “That’s such a shame.”

I glance back to find Kyle gazing at me, head tilted to one side, eyes dancing as they move over my face. “How do you know all that?”

“I read something about it in one of my books.”

“You learned about the Pierrepont mansion to help with our restoration?”

“Well, no.” My cheeks warm. “I started because of the restoration, but I found myself doing extra-curricular reading because it was so interesting.” Kyle gives me a look I can’t interpret, and I huff an awkward laugh, adding, “Nerdy, I know.”

“Not nerdy,” he says, his voice pitching lower. His gaze moves to my mouth, his eyes darker than before. It sends a delicious shiver through me, and I want to step closer. Before I can, he looks away, motioning to the pathway running to the left of the brownstone. “The Promenade is through here.”

I follow him, gazing up at the house through the branches of the huge honeylocust tree beside it. The path opens out to a long, paved walkway on the bluff along the edge of the Heights, looking directly over the East River to lower Manhattan. The sun is finally slipping below the skyscrapers of downtown, giving the sky a pink and orange glow. My breath catches at the sight.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here.” I wander across to lean on the iron railing that runs the length of the Promenade.

“See what you miss when all you think about is work?” Kyle murmurs beside me, and I glance at him with a smile. I’ve missed a lot over the years, and I’m only just realizing. This beautiful city, meaningful friendships, having fun—but also passion, falling in love. I’ve never been in love and I wonder what it feels like. What it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kyle.

I force my gaze back to the view. “Do you miss living in New York?”

“Not New York, so much, but I miss Brooklyn Heights.”

“I can see why,” I say, thinking of the beautiful neighborhood. “I think I’ll miss it when I go.” I’m struggling to picture myself back in Silicon Valley right now, but I shake the feeling off.

“You’re still going to go back?” Kyle asks.

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