Chapter 13: CHAPTER 12 NOAH
I didn't hear him go, but I felt his absence. That was it; it over. Now all that was left for me was to go back to the same old routine. I said goodbye to all the guests still there. Some of them would stick around for a few more days. Jenna's mother gave me a hug, and her dad said he'd take me to the station where I'd catch the train back to New York City. Along the way, he asked me what my plans were for the summer, and I told him that after spending a few days in the city, I'd get back to work. I didn't want to say much about what I was doing. He was an oil magnate; how could he understand that the stepdaughter of his millionaire best friend was working as a waitress? He didn't pry, though, and I was grateful. "Where are you going to stay in the city, Noah?" he asked, turning through the pretty streets. It was early, but there were already people out walking their dogs, carrying their oversize designer bags…almost everyone had on sunglasses. I was sad to leave without getting to know the town. But the chaos of the wedding had made it impossible. I told Jenna's dad the name of the motel I'd booked in New York. It was a dump, but I didn't care. I would barely set foot in there; I just needed a place to shower and sleep. The rest of the time, I'd be wandering around, discovering the big city. Jenna's father gave me a strange look. He didn't recognize the name. I guess it wasn't close to the two properties he had in town. Things got uncomfortable when he told me he wanted to book me a room at the Times Square Hilton. I thanked him, but I didn't want anyone's charity. People like him, people who had money and just assumed everyone who didn't was suffering, well…they were wrong. I didn't mind staying in a motel. It wasn't such a big deal! "Noah, I'm not trying to get in your business, but it's your first time in town. You don't know your way around here the way you do in LA. I'd feel better if I could help you out." He went on like that until we reached the train station. "Mr. Tavish, there's just no need. I know how to take care of myself. I'll be fine, really… Plus, I've got a friend I'm meeting. There's honestly nothing to worry about." That was a white lie, but there was no harm in it. Mr. Tavish didn't seem convinced: he was preoccupied, angry even, but whatever—he wasn't my dad. "Fine. Well, you've got my number if you need anything. I'll be in the Hamptons this week, but I've got many friends in New York, friends who would be happy to meet you if need be." Friends…yeah, sure. I knew what he meant when he said friends. I thought of Steve and his role in the Leister family. I didn't need a bodyguard. I said goodbye to him and hurried into the station, worried he might call my mom or something. At this point, nothing would surprise me. I got on, handed my ticket to a nice employee, and settled in, looking out the window and waiting for the capital of the world to appear. I tried to forget that time Nick had offered to take me there, telling me he wanted to be the guy to show me its wonders. That was a whole lifetime ago now. Or at least, that was how it seemed. When we arrived, I immediately caught a taxi to my motel. As we drove around, I was stunned by everything I saw through the windows—the endless skyscrapers, the people milling about like ants; it made me feel as small as a grain of sand… It was spectacular, but at the same time overwhelming. It was around four in the afternoon when the taxi driver turned down a desolate street, and I was worried, but he wasn't up to anything bad. That was just where my motel was. It could have been worse, but it looked nothing like the photos online. The driver grabbed my suitcase, I gave him a sorry tip, and he drove off, leaving me God knew where in the Big Apple. I took a deep breath and went inside. The place looked more like a homeless shelter than a motel. The girl behind the counter barely looked up from her magazine when I dragged in my suitcase. "Name?" she said, smacking her gum. It was gross. I'd always hated chewing gum. "Noah Morgan. I've got a reservation," I said, looking around. This was no motel: this was just a dump with a few rooms for rent. She sighed, opened a drawer, and took out a key from among a pile of them. "Here. Don't lose it. It's the only one. If you want breakfast, there are machines. No restaurant, no room service." I nodded, trying to keep my first hours in New York from depressing me. Whatever. I just needed a bed. At least the machine had Oreos in it. What else could a person want? I left my suitcase in my minuscule room and went out for a walk, leaving behind the grim street the motel was on and checking out the city. A few blocks away, I found Central Park, just as the website had said I would.I wouldn't know how to say what it was like. Just that after ten minutes, I wanted to live there. It was warm, people were lying around sunning themselves, kids were playing ball, people were walking dogs… there were runners and all types of other people working out. Just the feel of it was incredible, all that nature in the middle of a city full of smog and traffic. I walked over to the lake and saw people feeding the ducks that cut furrows across the water. I looked up into the blue July sky and let the feeling of being alone carry me away. Alone, yes, but also happy, in the middle of a place where no one knew me, where no one knew my story, where no one could judge me for that breakup—not Nicholas, not William, not my mother. No one would scowl at me or pity me. God, it had been terrible. Nick was a legend on campus, and the rumors spread like wildfire. We had been the couple everyone admired, stared at, and screwing it up so bad… I don't want to go into it, but let's just say people can be cruel. I spent the whole afternoon in the park. I read, ate a hot dog, strolled. I must have looked crazy. There were so many places to see, but I just stayed there. I didn't want to act like a tourist. Sometimes it's good to just be, just be there among others; that was what I wanted then—I wanted peace… peace and tranquility. But it didn't last long.
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I almost had a heart attack when I turned the corner on the way to my motel and saw a tall man in a suit emerge from the shadows. I nearly took off running, but then I recognized who it was, and I brought my hand to my heart, trying to recover from the fright. "Dammit, Steve!" I didn't even feel bad for cursing. What the hell was he doing there?"Noah," he said with a grimace. He grabbed my biceps and walked me forcefully toward the door to my room. "Get your things, please." I let him guide me, angry, and we passed the lobby and receptionist, who must have thought the whole thing was strange as I did. I got over the stupor and jerked away to face him. "What the hell, Steve?" Only then did I realize how pissed off I was. "What are you doing here?" "Nicholas told me to pick you up. This place is dangerous." Steve's response was par for the course. He was practical, a man of few words. Lord Leister commanded, and his lackeys obeyed. Thank God I wasn't one of them! "I'm not going anywhere," I said, walking past him and opening my door. What was I thinking? That I'd just leave Steve there, shut the door in his face? It wasn't his fault his boss was an idiot. "Noah, forget Nicholas. This is about you. You shouldn't be walking around New York alone, especially not here. This is a rough area. Just let me take you somewhere safe." This was ridiculous. "How did you even find me?" I shouted, turning around and bringing my hands to my head. The window by the bed opened onto a back street lined with fire escapes. You could see the trash cans and people smoking on the corner. I admit it: it was no Shangri-la; I'd already considered blowing the rest of the money I had saved on a somewhat-nicer room elsewhere; but someone forcing me to leave, especially Nicholas, really pissed me off. He had no right to play my protector anymore, so what was this about? "What exactly did Nicholas tell you?" I asked, turning back around. "He told me to get you out of this dump and take you to a decent hotel."Take me… So he was giving orders to Steve but didn't have the balls to look at me. Well, to hell with that. "I want to talk to him," I said, crossing my arms. Steve's expression was doubtful. "He's got plans after work today, he has a dinner reservation…" My rational self wanted to punish me for being so silly. What did you think, stupid, that he had sworn off sex? "What time?" I asked, trying to control the tremors in my voice. "In half an hour." "Then call his cell. He won't answer me." Steve held my stare for a moment and nodded. But before doing so, he picked up my suitcase and took it outside, to where he'd parked his car. He opened the passenger door to let me in, got in on the driver's side, and called Nick. "Nicholas, Noah wants to talk to you," he said when Nick responded. "I don't want to talk to her," he said after a second. I turned off the Bluetooth and grabbed Steve's phone, putting it to my ear. "You can't say my name anymore?" I scolded him, unable to hold back. "I don't do it unless it's strictly necessary," he replied. I knew he could hang up at any moment, so I tried to calm down. It didn't work. "You can't utter my name, but you send Steve to put me up in some fancy hotel… Explain that to me, Nicholas, because honestly, it's all very confusing." My words must have affected him, because he sighed into the phone. "Greg called me; he told me he was worried about the place you'd decided to stay for the next few days," he said reluctantly. Fucking Greg Tavish! Couldn't he mind his own business? He wasn't my father."So you did it for Greg, then?" I asked. The disappointment in my voice was obvious. "Noah, drop it," he said, and his voice changed, as if he were suddenly on the edge of fury. "I've made a reservation for you at the Arlo. You want it? Great! If not, I really don't fucking care." I didn't have time to speak again before he hung up. Steve looked at me expectantly, wanting to know my decision. But there was no way I was just doing as Nick said. He'd kissed me, and then he'd run off without saying a word. And all of a sudden, he wanted to buy me off with a hotel room…and there was nothing I could do about it? He could fake it as much as he wanted, he could tell me he didn't care what I did…but I knew him. This was Nick, and that was all bluster. Just then, I made a risky decision. "Take me to his place." Steve didn't seem to care for the idea, but I told him it was that or I wouldn't get out of the car. I felt bad for putting him in an uncomfortable spot, but I didn't give in one bit. If he wanted me out of that hotel, this was his only option. I looked out the window on the way. I didn't like to admit it, but Steve gave me a sense of security. Being alone in New York without anyone to share the experience with was depressing and a little scary. "We're almost there," Steve said. I was getting nervous, and the feeling worsened when we reached an impressive building, soaring, that overlooked the Upper East Side. The river was to the right, to the left the trees of Central Park. We'd driven long enough that I assumed we were on the other end of the park from my motel. I started toying with my hair. What was I going to say to him? I wasn't nervous about talking, really; I was nervous to know what his life was like now, in that environment, what it meant for Nicholas Leister to be living alone in an apartment in the heart of New York: a lawyer, a businessman through and through… I didn't know that side of him; the Nick I knew had been the party guy, the Nick who liked to hold me, the one who felt me up in the dark, who risked his neck in drag races and made money in underground fights…the Nick who was in love with me, adored me, would die if more than twenty-four hours passed without him hearing from me, talking to me, seeing me. Where was that Nick now? Steve parked in the underground lot of that tower, and I started to break down. "Is he home?" I asked, getting out and following him to the elevator. "No." I took a deep breath and watched Steve punch in a code. Good God. The building had sixty-two floors. And we were going to the very top. The elevator felt supersonic, and I jumped when the door dinged, breaking the silence between us. The doors opened directly into a large vestibule with a huge mirror where I could see my reflection. I barely recognized myself: I looked terrified, and I tried to change my expression to a more self-assured one. I wished I had on something different from that jean skirt, those pink Converse, and that plain white T-shirt. I looked like a fifteen-year-old child. Before following Steve, I pulled out my hair band and let my hair fall loose over my back. That would help, right? I followed Steve inside. Man… This was nothing like his apartment in Los Angeles. This was…a whole different league. I knew he'd inherited a fortune from his grandfather, and I knew money had never been a problem for him, but still… I could never have imagined all this. It was open concept, with scattered columns to mark off the spaces. The kitchen was to the right, and the sofas in the center were turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that showed the city in all its splendor. The floor was gleaming wood, with the odd beige rug that looked soft enough to sleep on. In one corner was a glass bar next to a dark marble staircase. So this was where Nicholas lived now? This was his? All his? Steve grunted and looked at me. "Are you sure you want to do this, Noah? He's not going to like it one bit." "Please, Steve," I said, almost begging him. "Let me do it my way… I just…I just need the chance to talk to him." Steve looked at me the way you'd look at a child who'd just found out Santa Claus doesn't exist: with pity. He nodded and told me to let him know if I needed anything. Then he left. I climbed the stairs. I felt tired. I opened the first door I found: it was a bedroom. Maybe Nick's, maybe the guest bedroom. Either way, I lay down in bed and looked at the ceiling. I'd wait for him… I'd wait for him until he came back, and when he did, I'd do absolutely everything to make him believe in me again, in us, in forgiveness, in love.
(Above mentioned words are all from the book of Culpa Nuestra, Spanish book written by Mercedes Ronn, I just traslated this in English if you want to communicate with me ...my Instagram account @_._priyeah_._)
Be ready for chapter 13 guys...
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