Outrageously in Love by Jen Morris

40

It’s nearly midnight when my plane touches down in New York. I had a layover in Houston like last time, but I was so amped up I couldn’t sit still. I paced around the airport terminal for four straight hours, walking from gate to gate, just to keep moving. Every time I sat still my gut would rage with anxiety and I’d feel nauseous.

It took the edge off quite nicely, though, because I dozed off on the flight from Houston to JFK. I guess the fact that I haven’t slept since Steph gave me the ticket also helped.

Now, sitting in the back of a cab as we bump along through Queens, I’m strangely excited. The familiar breath-taking skyline of Manhattan comes into view, twinkling like a glittery postcard in the distance, and my heart does a little dance. I’m back in New York, just like that, and it feels okay. More than okay—it feels like where I’m supposed to be. It feels good.

The cab pulls up at the hotel and I tip the driver like a local. By the time I’m in my hotel room, I’m tired. I know I could have stayed at Alex and Michael’s, but I didn’t tell them I was flying over here. Truthfully, I’m not sure how this will work out, and I don’t need the extra pressure from Alex texting me every five minutes to ask.

Anyway. I’m here now. I fire off a quick text to Steph to tell her I landed safely, then I crawl into bed and stare at the ceiling. And, after running through a thousand different scenarios for how things could go with Luke tomorrow, somehow, I fall asleep.

* * *

I wake earlythe next morning. I kill some time by making coffee and trying to read, but I don’t take anything in. I’m too anxious to go and see Luke.

By 7 a.m. I decide I’ve waited long enough. I dress in one of my prettiest dresses, do my hair and makeup, and pull on my jacket as I head outside into the fading darkness of early morning to find a cab. Even though it’s only a short drive, I can feel myself getting more and more wound up the closer we get to Luke’s. Maybe I should have had a shower session with John Stamos before I left.

I chuckle quietly at the thought, but I’m not fooling myself. I’m freaking out right now. What have I gotten myself into? Why on earth did I agree to this?

I wipe my sweaty palms, keeping my breathing steady. No, I know why I’m here. I know what I came to do. I’m here to be brave. I’m here to fight for the man I love.

I nod to myself, hardening my resolve. Adrenaline courses through me, and as I pull out my compact to check my makeup, my stomach is full of thrashing butterflies.

Then, just like that, we’re in front of Luke’s apartment building. I sit in the cab for a moment, gazing at the entrance.

Shit. I don’t know if I can do this.

Come on Harriet! You’ve come all this way, Steph mentally cheers me on.

I pay the driver and step out, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. I key in Luke’s code and climb the stairs with shaking legs, barely registering what I’m doing. My heartbeat is like hailstones on a tin roof as I step onto Luke’s floor, but I don’t let that deter me. I knock on his door, then suck in a breath and wait.

Nothing happens.

What if he’s not home? I’d never considered that. Uncertainty tugs at me, but I push it away. I’m just looking for excuses.

Besides, it’s still early. He’s probably asleep.

I raise my hand and knock again, louder this time. A corkscrew twists through my gut while I wait, until finally, I hear footsteps approaching. My heart vaults into my throat as the door opens, and my eyes fasten on a redhead in an oversized T-shirt.

She rubs her eyes. “Um, hi?”

I lose track of time and space at this point. I think my jaw unhinges. I think I stop breathing.

“Can I help you?”

I blink, frozen. My stomach is plunging and I can’t find any words. I just gape at her, willing this not to be true.

But it is. There’s a woman answering his door. There’s a half-naked woman answering his door, early in the morning.

Oh my God.

I manage to get some air into my lungs and it burns. I can’t believe he would—

“Are you looking for Luke?” she asks. “I’m Andrea, his house-sitter. He’s out of town.”

Andrea. House-sitter.

It takes a second for this information to slot into my brain, then relief floods through me in such great torrents that I have to lean against the wall.

Her brows flick together. “Are you okay?”

I nod, breathing out a small laugh. “Yes. I’m… yes. You’re the turtle lady.”

“I guess you could call me that.”

Okay, alright. Luke isn’t sleeping with someone else. He’s just out of town.

Oh. Fuck.

“Um—” I rub my nose, trying to catch up with this unexpected turn of events. “Did Luke say when he’d be back?”

“No. He called me in the middle of the night and left in quite a rush, so I didn’t get much out of him. But you could call him?”

“Right,” I say, absorbing this. Maybe he got contacted by that company in Houston he was looking to partner with and had to fly back there. “Okay… thanks.”

“No problem.” She smiles, one hand on the door. “I’m going to head back to bed.”

“Yes,” I mumble, straightening my bag on my shoulder and stepping away. “Sorry. And thanks again.”

The door closes and I stare at it for a minute, as if Luke will somehow materialize in front of me.

He doesn’t, of course.

With a sigh, I turn for the stairs and head down. When I step out onto the street, I feel a little lost. This is very inconvenient, to say the least. I don’t often fly halfway across the world to tell men I love them, but when I do I kind of expect them to be home. Talk about an anticlimax.

I survey the streets around me, shivering as the cold air bites through my thin jacket. I’m not really sure what to do now. Luke could be back at any time, so… I should stay, right? I did fly all the way over here and it’s not like I have a job to rush back to. I guess I could call him, but the thought of telling him over the phone that I flew to New York to see him somehow makes me more nervous than doing this face to face. Maybe I should go back to the hotel, have a cup of tea, and decide on a plan of action.

I find a taxi down the street and climb inside. We head towards the hotel and I gaze out the window, watching the city slowly wake and sparkle in the morning light. A smile sneaks onto my lips at how beautiful it looks, and at how it actually feels good to be back here on my own terms. While this isn’t exactly how I wanted this to go, I’m glad I took the leap, even if I haven’t quite landed safely yet. There’s a powerful sensation buzzing through me, one that’s familiar from my last visit. It’s like muscle memory; I’ve slipped back into the way I was when I was in New York before. Not fearless, but definitely more bold than I gave myself credit for.

After everything that happened with the wedding, I somehow let myself forget all the ways I had grown during my time here. But I did grow—I grew a lot. I think back over Steph’s list: the hair, the trapeze, the skinny-dipping, the orgasm, and Luke—Luke who helped me see the inner strength I didn’t even know was there, who helped me connect with my sexuality, who made me feel so full of life and possibility.

Yes, coming back here was the right thing to do. As soon as Luke is back in town, I’m going to tell him the truth about Harriet 2.0, and I’m going to show him that we belong together. I’m done living in fear, and I’m not going to let it rule anymore of my decisions. In fact, the next opportunity I have to challenge my fears, I’m going to dive in head-first. It doesn’t matter if—

The cab turns a sharp corner and my bag slides off the seat, the contents scattering along the floor, my thoughts halted.

Bloody hell.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and scramble to gather my things from the floor of the cab, stopping as something catches my eye. My heart does a tiny hiccup as I reach to pick up Isaac’s card, the one he gave me when Luke showed me the empty shop. It almost feels like a sign. Wasn’t I just thinking about how I want to face my fears?

Before I can talk myself out of it, I call to the driver, “Can we go to the Lower East Side instead, please?”

He mutters a string of curse words under his breath, then does what I can only assume is an illegal U-turn across four lanes of traffic. My bag goes flying again. This time the clasp on the back pocket pops open and Luke’s folder of numbers half slides out. I forgot that was still in there.

I reach for it with a trembling hand. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is. Maybe Luke isn’t the only reason I came back to New York.

Okay. I take a deep breath and make a little deal with myself. If we get to the store and it’s still for lease, I’m going to call Isaac. If it’s still available, I’ll take that as the ultimate sign. A current of nervous excitement runs through me at the thought.

“Where on the Lower East Side?” the cabbie demands from the front.

Crap. Where was it? I know it was somewhere off Grand Street, at least I think it was…

“Er, maybe left here…” I do my best to give him directions, and we make several wrong turns—followed by much colorful language on his part—but eventually we’re on the right street, and we’re pulling up outside the store.

And there, across the front window, is a sign for a pet store. It’s been leased, and it’s been turned into a pet store.

I wait for relief to take hold of me, but it doesn’t. In fact, the longer I sit in the back of the cab, peering out the window at the pet store, the more I feel like I might cry.

God, I didn’t realize just how badly I wanted this dream, but the sense of sheer disappointment is so crushing it steals my breath. When the driver turns back to ask me what’s going on, I struggle to respond.

“Sorry. Never mind,” I mutter, swallowing against the lump blocking my throat. “Back to the hotel.”

He peels away from the curb and I lean back, absently watching the shops pass by, feeling hollow with remorse. If only I’d taken the opportunity when it was there. Now I’ve lost the chance to—

“Wait!” I hear myself cry, before I can even comprehend what’s happening. But my eyes have spied it: the empty store. It is there, I got the wrong place! Of course I did, I had no idea where I was going!

The driver gives an almighty harrumph, pulling the cab over hard, and I press my hands to the window, looking at the store. My heart is pounding again, but this time in a good way. Because it’s not over, my dream. The store is still here. And I said—I promised myself—if it was here, that was a sign…

“Lady, what are we doing?” the driver barks, interrupting my thoughts. “Are you getting out here or not?”

A smile stretches wide across my face. “Yes,” I say resolutely. “Yes, I am.”

* * *

Isaac exits a cab,scanning the sidewalk. His face lights up when he sees me, leaning back against the empty storefront, gnawing my fingernails down to stumps.

“Harriet!” He steps forward and takes my hand in a hearty handshake.

“Hi,” I say, with more confidence than I feel. It took him an hour to get here—unsurprising, considering I called him at 8 a.m. on what I now realize is a Sunday—and in that time my certainty about this whole thing has been whittled down to a tiny nub. Honestly, what am I doing?

“I didn’t expect to hear from you,” he admits as he opens the door.

I shuffle in behind him, watching him turn on the lights. “Well, I wasn’t planning to call. But thanks for coming out so early on a Sunday. I, er, I thought I’d take another look.” Probably best to leave out the part where I felt like the universe was giving me signs to open a cafe here.

“No problem. I’m glad.” He turns to me with a grin. “So… do you have any questions?”

I nibble my lip, glancing around the space. Now that I’m here, actually contemplating this whole thing, it suddenly looks… well, not as good as I remember. I mean, look at that peeling paint. And that hole in the drywall. And was that water stain always there, running down the wall?

I clear my throat, glancing back at Isaac’s expectant face. “Why is this place still available? It must be costing the owner, sitting here empty.”

“Fair question. In all honesty, most of the people I show it to only see the surface. It’s not much to look at.” He gestures around and I wince. It really isn’t. “People don’t want to deal with the work. They want a place that’s ready for them to move into right away. The owner wants the tenant to fix it up.” He lifts his shoulders in a light shrug. “And I guess most people don’t want to be this far down on the Lower East Side. It’s not as trendy as the East Village.”

I nod, taking all this in, my mind whirring with possibilities.

“But, you know,” he continues with a sincere smile, “that’s why it’s a good price. The owner is nice enough and he’ll leave you to it. If you don’t mind setting it up, you could have a cool place here. Look at some of these features.” He gestures to a wall behind me. “If you strip away this drywall, there’s brick under there. That could look really good cleaned up. And the bar top here is solid oak. Give that a little TLC and it would come up real nice.”

I glance around again, seeing the place through Isaac’s eyes. A little bud of hope unfurls in my chest, blossoming quietly as I picture it anew.

But… as optimistic as I want to be about things with Luke, what if it doesn’t work out and I don’t have him beside me on this journey? He was the one who gave me all the information in this folder, the one I’m clutching to my chest like a life-preserver in a stormy sea. Without his numbers and his guidance—without his belief in me—I wouldn’t be standing here.

I turn to run my hand along the wooden bar top, thinking. Alex moved all the way to New York when she didn’t know a soul, just for the adventure. Even if I don’t have Luke, I’ll have her, and Michael. And—of course, why didn’t I think of this before?—Cat runs her own business and Geoff manages a bookstore, surely they’ll be able to help me with some of the business stuff.

Besides, I’m not going to throw my dream away just because things with Luke are up in the air. I’m sick of living my life in a safe bubble, watching everyone around me have adventures. It’s my turn to roll the dice and make my move.

“The owner really wants it leased,” Isaac says thoughtfully. “I could talk to him, see if he’d lower the rent. And if you want, I could possibly talk him down to a six month term, just to start. I’m sure he’d go for it.”

Six months is about what Luke said it would take to turn a decent profit. And, really, what’s the worst that could happen? I waste six months, I lose a bit of money—but I would have tried, at least. I wouldn’t have to live wondering what if. A thrill runs up my spine as I realize I’ve already made up my mind.

Isaac can read my face. “Should I call him?”

I nod, my pulse picking up its pace as Isaac steps out with his phone.

While he talks, I pull out my napkin and wander around the store, picturing how I can bring my ideas to life in this space. With that brick wall exposed, I could hang some artwork, and a chalkboard menu behind the counter. I could have rows of tables down the center here, and sofas against that back wall. Then the shelves with the games could go over there, and an espresso machine could sit here on the counter, the cases with the baked goods could go…

Hmm. I’m going to have to hire people to work here, of course. I don’t know anything about hiring or managing staff.

And then I see Paula’s face, as if she’s right there behind the counter, serving up a plate of her delicious brownies. I wonder—

“Okay.” Isaac enters again, his face broad with a grin. “He’s on board. We’ll just need to draw up a new lease agreement for you to review.”

“Review?”

“Yeah.” He gives me a kind smile, clearly sensing that I’m out of my depth. “You’ll want to have a lawyer look over the agreement before you sign, but that’s pretty standard. I can put you in touch with a few if that helps. Once they’re satisfied, you can sign the lease and get to work.”

I stare at Isaac for a second, unable to move as I process what he’s saying. It can happen. It’s happening.

He tilts his head to one side with a chuckle. “Don’t back out on me now.”

“I just have to call someone,” I say in a rush, fumbling in my bag for my phone. “One sec.” I step out onto the street and, with trembling fingers, I press the call button.

“Hello?” Paula’s voice is groggy on the other end and I curse myself. It must be the middle of the night.

“Er, hi.”

“Harriet?” Her voice rises with alarm. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I say quickly. “Sorry, I forgot the time difference.”

She exhales, then her laugh comes down the line. “No problem. What’s up?”

“Well…” I glance down at the folder in my arms, suddenly feeling stupid. But if I don’t ask, I’ll never know. “You know that cafe idea I had?”

“Sure.”

I reach deep inside for my courage. “I’m doing it. I’m doing it here in New York. And, I know this is a bit out there, but I was wondering… do you still want to help?”

There’s a pause on the other end and I hold my breath. Then Paula speaks, and I can hear the grin in her voice.

“When can I start?”