Page 28 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

“I might take you up on that. I’m almost packed, and it makes it kind of chaotic to be around.”

We continue down the stairs, and I push open the door. When he comes out, he sets the box down gently and pulls his phone out. I briefly catch a rideshare app on his phone before he pockets it again and retrieves the box. “I’ve been meaning to ask when you want to tell the others?”

“Oh, uh, it’s not a secret, so anytime. I did tell Cammie tonight. I didn’t know you wanted to wait.”

“No, I don’t. I also didn’t know. It’s not a big deal. Anyway,” he says, walking to the curb, “if Cammie knows, Cade knows, and you know it will travel down that gossip vine from there.”

A blue sedan pulls to the curb and rolls down the window. A guy leans over the console, eyeing us, and then calls, “Rad?”

“That’s me.” Turning back to me, Rad says, “I’ll have a key sent to your office tomorrow. Use it when you’re ready.” He pauses, briefly glancing at the driver. “I’ll be home late tomorrow.”

“I’m not your mom?—”

“Most definitely not.”A wry grin spreads across his lips.

My curiosity gets the best of me, though. “Got a hot date?” I try to sound casual but fail miserably. To distract him from my ridiculousness, I rock forward and poke his stomach . . .Whoa.Hard as a rock.

“I’d rather be there to help you settle in, but . . .” Him having a date or even a girlfriend shouldn’t disappoint me . . .still. I hate this feeling, the drop of jealousy that poisons a good time. “I have to work late. I’ve added a new case to my load, and well, I shouldn’t have taken it on, but I needed to.”

“You sound like me.”

The driver lays on his horn. This time, I’m the one looking away when I hear the rattle of an old window open. Mr. Meisler dips his head out the window. “Knock it off. My wife’s trying to sleep.” He spies us but remains expressionless as he lights up a cigarette. “Nice night.”

Rad says, “Don’t hesitate to call or text me if you need anything, anything at all.” I don’t know when the inches between us disappeared, but the tips of our shoes touch as he stares into my eyes in an unfamiliar way. “I should go.”

“Yes, me too.”

“If I don’t see you at your place tomorrow night, I’ll see you Friday.”

“See you when I see you.”

I start the short walk back, each step away from him a little heavier.

“Hey, Bell?”

When I look back, he says, “He’s a fool for letting you go.”

Melting might be more Marlow’s speed, dramatic, but he sure has a way to make a girl feel special. “You’re not so bad yourself, Welly.”

He grins, big like I do, and then gets in the car with my precious cargo. I type in the code to open the door, but before I go in, I watch the car drive away.

“He’s a good kid, like you, Tealey.”

“Thanks, Mr. Meisler.” I swing the heavy metal door open and ask, “So your son is taking you and the Mrs. in?”

“Yep. They have a pool and a float with my name on it. I’ll be living the high life out in Jersey.”

I laugh. “You’re making me jealous.”

“Nah,” he says, waving me off. “Sounds like you’ll be living the good life in Manhattan.”

“It’s not too shabby.”

Rubbing his fingers together, he adds, “He’s all money. I could smell that expensive cologne from here, and phew,that suit—class all the way.”

“He’s nice, too.”

“That’s good. Real good.”

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