Heading East (Part 2 of 2) (The True North Series) (4 page)

“Not much. I worked my ass off to get my application in on time. I had to write an essay about what creativity meant based on my experiences, then I had to create a portfolio of my work. It was stressful. I don’t think I would have done it at all if I’d known how much work was involved.”

“Yeah, you would.”

“Oh, you know that for a fact, do you?”

“I do.” His gaze was direct, his eyebrows drawn together. “We might have only spent a few weeks together, but in that time I believe I got to know the real Kat, the one you don’t let people see. That woman knew there was nothing for her in Ayashe, knew that it would take hard work to dig herself out from under the snow and apathy that had accumulated over the years and finally live the life she imagined. And I believe she was talented and pigheaded enough to do it.”

“Pigheaded?”

One dark eyebrow rose, challenging me to deny it.

“I prefer the word tenacious.” I picked up my fork to finally dig in when my stomach let out a loud rumble.

“Hungry?”

I took a cautious bite of lasagna and burned just the tip of my tongue on the cheese. “Starving. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast—if you don’t count the coffee.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier? I could have bought you a muffin or sandwich.”

“I didn’t want anything from you.”

“And yet you’re here.”

“You offered to feed me. A starving student can’t afford to turn down free food.”

“You just did.”

My temper was starting to get the best of me until he grinned and his handsome face lit up. “Tell me you don’t miss this,” he said, the shadow of a dimple appearing on his cheek.

I turned away, at a loss for a witty comeback. Yes, I had missed our
banter, our little arguments that amounted to nothing yet said everything about who we were together.

And then it dawned on me that the words
together
and
ours
were starting to sneak back into my thoughts. Somehow the sly bastard was burrowing his way under my skin again. Hadn’t I just spent the last several months vowing that nobody else would charm me?

“So where do you live?” he asked after some time.

“In Bedford-Stuyvesant,” I said, glad for the change in subject. “My apartment is above a Chinese restaurant, fairly roomy, has peeling flowery wallpaper, and smells like gym socks. Oh, and did I mention I have roommates?”

“You have roommates?”

“Yes. Every now and then I see one of them scurry across the floor in the middle of the night. They’re really unobtrusive, except they have whiskers and eat my food.”

His face crumpled in disgust.

“I wish I had a place like yours. What I would give for a space like this,” I said, looking around. When I realized what I’d just inferred, I said quickly, “I’m not asking if I can move in, FYI.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I wasn’t going to ask,” he said. “Not that I don’t want you here. I just know that you’d rather live on your own terms.”

I looked down at my plate, his confession making my chest uncomfortably tight. How was it possible for someone to understand me so deeply, as if I was a clear pool of water and he could see straight through to the rocky bottom?

If I wasn’t sure before that living here was a bad idea, I definitely knew now.

“Thank you for dinner,” I said some time later, turning away from the sink as I dried my hands.

Luke smiled from where he sat on the other side of the island. “Thanks for washing the dishes.”

“Fair’s fair,” I said with a shrug and headed to the front door to get my book bag. “I’d better go. First day of classes tomorrow.”

“Hold on,” he said, padding off to the door at the other end of the room. He came back a few minutes later wearing shoes and holding a set of keys in his hands. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Where are
you
going?”

“Taking you home.” At my impatient sigh, he said, “Did you really think I’d let you go home on your own to Bed-Stuy at nearly ten at night?”

“I can take care of myself.”

He opened the door and let me pass before locking it behind him. “You’re still not going home alone.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine.”

“Kat,” he said, letting out a frustrated breath. “Just… come on.”

I followed him out of the building and across the street into the parking garage.

“
This
is your car?” I asked when we stopped in front of a silver BMW sedan.

He winked at me over the hood before getting in.

We were mostly quiet on the drive back to my apartment. Luke had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear stick, content to just sit back and let the stillness wrap around us, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle outside.

“You’re still wearing that expensive hunk of metal,” I said to fill the uncomfortable silence.

He glanced down at his wrist. “I am.”

Out of the corner of my eye I watched as he maneuvered the car through the busy streets of Manhattan. He looked so comfortable in this
fancy car, and even though he was wearing a t-shirt and dark jeans, he still somehow exuded a sense of class and wealth. His hair was a little shorter than in Alaska and was actually styled with some hair product, but it only added to his refined look.

“Right there,” I said, pointing to the narrow three-story yellow brick building, the first floor of which was a Chinese restaurant called
Hung Wei’s
.

He parked at the curb and looked out the window with eyebrows drawn. “You live up there?”

I was instantly on the defensive. “Yes.”

“How many apartments are up there?”

“Two. One on each floor. I’ve got the whole second floor to myself.”

“You don’t even have any curtains.”

“I’ve only been here for two fucking days. Give me at least a week to go all Martha Stewart on it,” I said, getting out and slamming the door harder than was necessary.

He got out and continued to look up at the windows. “I can see your entire apartment from here.”

“Perfect. I won’t have to give you a tour.”

He walked over and eyed the black metal fence that surrounded the front of the restaurant. “I think it’s telling that most of the businesses around here have fences around their property, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it’s telling you to mind your own business.”

But Luke was not to be swayed. He glanced around the street at the two men loitering at the corner who were eyeing his car and the scantily dressed women smoking on a stoop right across the street. Not that I blamed him. This particular area of Brooklyn
wasn’t exactly known for safety, and the owner of the restaurant downstairs had even joked about walking the streets in a zig-zag pattern with the occasional ducking motion. Still, this was my own place and I’d be damned if some Richie Rich pretty boy was going to make me feel bad about it.

“Let me help you find another place in the city,” he said, his gaze swinging back to me. “I know a really good realtor.”

“I bet you do.”

He gave me that look, the one that conveyed he wanted me to cut the crap. “I just want you to be safe.”

I got my keys out and unlocked the door to the apartment stairwell. “I am safe.” I took a step across the threshold. “See?”

“At least get some curtains,” he said, his forehead creased in concern. “And a gun.”

“Go home, Luke. Thanks for dinner,” I said and let the door click shut. I ran upstairs to my apartment, then looked out the front window to find him still looking up with his hands in his pockets, his legs planted apart. Though he was exuding confidence, he looked very much out of place on my street—a man who had wandered too far from his neighborhood of luxury.

So maybe
my this place was a bit of a slum, but I felt safer around drunks and drug-dealers than I did in Manhattan, with its assholes in shiny suits and fancy cars. At least here I had a chance of defending myself because, when it came to that handsome man on the sidewalk, I had absolutely no form of defense. None.

4

LUKE

I couldn’t sleep that night.

I lay in my comfortable bed, staring at the exposed wood beams above, worrying about the willful woman across the East River. I felt like an elitist ass, judging low income neighborhoods from my top floor apartment, but this sense of superiority had been pervasive in my life for as long as I could remember. I grew up in the Upper East Side, partied with other trust fund brats, and had all the freedom in the world. I’d lived a life of privilege, and to see Kat doing the opposite filled me with unease.

Perhaps her neighborhood was not as terrible as crime statistics would have people believe, and I was simply judging the place from its beaten-down appearance. Maybe the reports were right, that Bed-S
tuy was becoming gentrified and it was now safe for young women to walk alone at night without running into trouble.

But
maybe
wasn’t good enough.

I threw the covers aside and jumped out of bed, getting dressed quickly before heading out to my car. Without much traffic I was able to make it in ten minutes, parking at the curb in front of her building.

I remained in the car and looked up at her window. The lights were on. From my vantage point I could see her head as she looked down, most likely sitting at the table I’d been able to spy earlier. She was deep in thought, the skin between her eyebrows knotted, her eyes fixed on the page of the book on the table, locks of her blonde hair hanging by her cheeks. It hurt just to look at her, the knowledge that she was so close yet so unreachable.

Then it occurred to me that if I could see her, anyone could.
I looked up and down the street, relieved to find it deserted. Still, anyone in the brownstone houses across the street could see right into her apartment.

I dialed her number. “Kat, did you get curtains yet?” I asked, watching a small smile lifting the ends of her lips when she recognized my voice.

“I haven’t really had a chance.”

“Please get some ASAP.”

“When I get around to it.” She stood up and walked over to the wall, flipping the switch and shrouding her place in darkness.

“I can come over and keep you company,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the floor with your other roommates if I have to.”

She let out a soft laugh but said, “No thanks.”

“Kat—”

“Go to sleep, Luke. It’s late.”

I sighed. “Okay, Kat. Goodnight.” I hung up but didn’t make to leave. I sat in my car,
keeping watch.

Some movement across the street caught my attention as the front door of a painted green house opened and an old man made his way down the stairs. He walked across the street at a quick clip heading towards me,
then knocked on my window. “Why are you parked here?” he demanded.

I glanced up at Kat’s window, hoping the old man’s voice did not carry.

He knocked again and shook his head. “Get out of here. Nobody sells drugs on this street, especially not to your kind.”

I cracked the window. “I’m not buying drugs. I’m…” I paused. Only then did it dawn on me how I was acting. “I’m being overbearing.”

“Well get your ass back home before you get jacked. This is not the place to idle around in your Bimmer.”

I started the car and lifted my hand in parting, giving one last look up at the second story window before driving away.

“What’s wrong?” Lisa, my forty-three year old assistant, asked me as soon as I walked in the offices of Kohl Media the next morning.

I stopped in front of her desk and set my soft leather briefcase on top. “Why would you think there’s anything wrong?” I asked, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt.

“Well, for one, you’re wearing this dark, menacing look,” she said with a hint of amusement on her ruddy, slightly roundish face. “You look like you’re going to bite someone’s head off.”

“Then shouldn’t you be fearing for your life right now?”

She chuckled, waggling a finger at me. “Sonny boy, I’ve been your assistant for two years. When have I ever been scared of you?”

“You’re not beyond firing, you know,” I said, walking to my office. I sat behind the desk and looked at the numerous sticky notes all over my desk, each with a name, phone number, and message. “What the hell is all this?” I asked when she followed inside.

She shrugged. “What can I say? You’re a popular man.”

“Any word from Astral Records?”

She shook her head. “Give it some time. It’s only been a month.”

I nodded, then frowned. “It was good though, right? Sometimes I’m too emotionally invested in something that I no longer see it from an objective point of view.”

She gave me an incredulous look. “It was fantastic and you know it. Your best stuff to date.”

I exhaled through my nose and sat back. “Thanks, Lise.”

“Now if you’re done fishing for compliments, I have some work to do.”

Before she could exit the office I said, “Hold on.”

“What do you need?” Lisa asked, putting a hand on her hip. “Coffee run?”

“No.” I sat up and threaded my fingers together on top of the desk. “Well, yes, that too. But I need a favor.”

“Oh boy, here we go.”

“I’d like for you to purchase some curtains and a Taser.”

“Curtains and a Taser?” she asked, biting down on her lips to keep from smiling. “Interesting Monday night you have planned for yourself there, boss. But I don’t judge. Hell, add a can of whipped cream and it’s my house every night.”

“Okay, smartass, just get the stuff please?”

“What color and length for the curtains?”

“I don’t know, floor-length and neutral color? I haven’t been inside the apartment in question so I don’t know exactly.”

“So these are surprise curtains?”

“And a surprise Taser.”

“My, my, my. Your romancing skills are definitely not what they used to be.”

“My romancing skills are just fine, thanks,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Whatever you say, Romeo,” she called over her shoulder as she sauntered out of my office.

I tried to keep my mind off Kat while I was at work, but my thoughts kept wandering back to yesterday’s events when she’d blown back into my life like a stubborn, beautiful blizzard. And to have her agree to dinner meant that I was not beyond forgiveness. There was definitely hope for me yet.

But my hands were tied when it came to her current accommodations. As much as I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and take her to my cave, I knew it wasn’t a feasible solution. Kat would likely beat me with my own club and feed me to the wolves.

No. I’d said I’d be her friend and that’s what I intended to do so, fifteen minutes before noon, this
friend
left work with a paper sack in hand and headed downtown to the Fashion Institute of New York, texting her on the way to ask where she’d be.

I’m at home.
About to eat lunch before going back at 2 p.m.

You want some company?

Can you stomach it? I hear the air isn’t as fresh on this side of the bridge.

I grinned to myself.
Okay, smartass. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.

A few train transfers later I exited the subway station and headed towards the Chinese restaurant, studying the streets around me. There was a reason Bed-Stuy
had a seedy reputation and it was plain to see in the metal gates and bars over windows of each of the homes and businesses. As much as I knew Kat was more than capable of taking care of herself, the instinct to protect her was still strong. I would do anything to keep her from getting hurt again, partly to atone for my sins but also because, deep down, I still considered her mine.

As I approached the restaurant Kat emerged from the side door, looking like the quintessential college student with her comfortable clothes and hair up in a loose, messy bun. “I see you bought curtains,” I said, glancing up at the white covering in her window.

She leaned out of reach when I tried to bend down and kiss her cheek. “It’s just a flat sheet I tacked to the wall.”

“I’m glad you listened to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. Not everything’s about you.”

Before she could recover from her eyeball exercise, I bent down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “No, it’s about you.”

She jerked back. I simply flashed her an unapologetic smile.

I followed her inside the restaurant and, seeing it was apparently a seat-yourself type of place, we went to the nearest round table covered in red vinyl tablecloth. I held out a seat for Kat and she took the one beside it. Knowing it would incense
her, I took the seat closest to her even though there were several other seats available at the table.

“If you move, I’ll just move with you,” I told her, enjoying this little war we were waging.

“You’re obnoxious, you know that?”

I shrugged. “Yes.”

She just shook her head and turned her attention to the menu, though she wasn’t nearly fast enough to hide the hint of a smile on her lips.

After we ordered, I turned my full attention back to her. “So how was your first day of school?”

Her shoulders slumped just the slightest. “Fucking awful. I was five minutes late to my first class because I went to the wrong building. I didn’t understand a lot of the terminology the professor kept throwing out, so I had to keep looking for the definition at the back of the book. Oh, and this asshole asked me if I was homeless or if I was just a hipster,” she said, her skin flushing.

“Tell me his name and I’ll take care of him,” I said, deadpan.

“It’s okay. He’s a kiss-ass with awful designs. I think life will take care of him.”

“Oh hey, I have something for you,” I said, handing over the paper sack, which she eyed dubiously.

“What is it?”

“A flaming sack of poo,” I teased. “Just take it.”

She accepted the bag and looked inside. “Purple curtains and a stun gun?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “You New Yorkers sure know how to welcome someone to the neighborhood.”

I chuckled. “You’ll need both if you want to live here.”

She eyed me for a long time, measuring my sincerity. “So you’re done lecturing me about the dangers of living in Brooklyn?” she asked through narrowed eyes.

“Not even close, but at least this way I know you’ll be protected.” I picked up the stun gun. “I know it’s no Glock, but at least it’s something.”

She grinned. “Something tells me you won’t be as eager to stand in front of this gun and taunt me to shoot you.”

“Probably not. So are you going to invite me upstairs?” I asked, moving my leg so that my thigh was against hers.

She stiffened but didn’t move her leg. “No.” She jumped when my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. “What the hell…”

I grinned, retrieving the gadget. “Just my phone. Though I am happy to see you.” I meant to turn the phone off but changed my mind when I recognized the number. “Hold on. I have to take this,” I said, getting to my feet and going outside.

“May I speak to Luke Harrington?” a male voice said on the other line.

“Yes, this is he.”

“Hi. My name is Gil Menten and I am the assistant to Mr. Cuccio, CEO of Cuccio Records.”

My entire body froze. Cuccio Records was one of the oldest and most prestigious companies in the music business. “Yes?”

“Mr. Cuccio sends his apologies. He was impressed with your demo but we are currently looking for a different kind of talent…”

I forced my body to remain rigid and casual for the benefit of the woman watching me through the glass, even as my muscles wanted to sag in disappointment while Gil gave me backhanded compliments that amounted to nothing. In the end, he simply said, “Sorry,” and said goodbye.

Kat eyed me when I rejoined her, being unusually quiet as we ate. “You
alright?” she finally asked.

I gave a short nod, pride getting in the way of honesty. To be rejected by a recording company was one thing, but to see the pitying expression on Kat’s face was something else entirely.