Page 70 of The Player + The Pact = I Do

New River.

Maybe he has a late meeting. It’s nearly nine. Why else would he be there now?

I put my hair up in a bun and head to the door. I grab my sneakers from where I’ve flung them in the hall closet and head out. There’s only one way to be sure if Leo’s okay. I’ll go and check.

Within a few minutes, I’m in a cab heading up to Harlem. I stop for sushi on the way and arrive at the New River building thirty minutes later.

I get out of the cab and suddenly realize Leo might have left in the time it took me to get here. Luckily for me, security is behind the desk and lets me in after I tell them I’m delivering dinner to my boss.

I step into the elevator and change my mind about being here at least five times on the way up.

What’s the worst that can happen?

He can look disappointed to see me. He can ask me to go.

The lights are all on when I step out of the elevatorinto the penthouse, which looks even bigger than it did the night of the party. It’s empty, for starters, but the unobstructed views of the city out the floor-to-ceiling windows are what make the biggest difference. I think it’s because I see views across the entire city that it looks so big. Like the entire island of Manhattan is up here in this apartment.

I sweep through but don’t see Leo. It’s not until my second walk-through that I spot the back of his head over the top of a chair on the terrace. As I walk toward him, I see he’s in his suit, one ankle crossed over a knee, his hands joined together in front of him.

Why is he here? He’s not working.

I slide open the glass door onto the terrace but he doesn’t turn at the sound.

“Hey,” I say. “I brought you dinner.”

He finally turns in his seat and gives me a half smile. “Oh hey.”

I offer him a tray of sushi, which he takes.

He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. I just take a seat in the chair next to his. We sit in silence as we eat. The air has a chill to it, and I wonder if there’s a blanket I can bring out here.

Or maybe I should head home. Only… something tells me Leo wants me here.

After about twenty minutes, he slides the empty sushi tray onto the table.

“It’s the delivery drivers who know the city better than anyone,” he says.

“I can see how that would be true,” I reply.

“They know the shortcuts, the back entrances, the traffic patterns. Where construction haspopped up overnight.”

I nod and slide my half-eaten tray on the table next to his.

“Driving deliveries was how I developed my love of New York.”

“When you were delivering bread with your father?”

He nods. “Yeah. We’d be up so early, before the streets came to life. People are wrong when they say this is the city that never sleeps. It does—but it’s in shifts. Certain areas are quiet at certain times. The early mornings on the Upper East Side are peaceful.”

Leo’s not here because he wants to look out over the Upper East Side in the dark.

“That’s when you met her?”

He nods. “It was a long time ago, so why can’t I just move on?” he asks. “Why do I care enough about what she thinks about me that I’m prepared to make someone pretend to be my fiancée?”

“Do you think those old feelings were made worse because of what happened with Nadia this summer?”

“Probably. But I hate that even my subconscious is still so affected by Caroline. Like, why was I taken in by another cold blonde this summer?”

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