In the Wake of Wanting (53 page)

“Mr. Holland,” an impeccably dressed man says, walking briskly toward us. “I’m Mark Lenneman.” He shakes my father’s hand, even though I’m the one who’s been emailing him all morning. I guess he knows who’d really be paying. “Trey,” he says, finally looking at me. “Welcome to One Morningside Park–hopefully your new home.”

“If it’s as good as you say it is,” I respond, shaking his hand. “This is my girlfriend, Coley, and her father, Martin.”

“Now, will Coley be living here, too?”

“She’s welcome anytime,” I respond without hesitating, but my face still grows hot from being put on the spot like that.

“I’m a freshman at Columbia,” she says. “I have to stay in the dorms.”

“Right,” Mark says. “That makes sense. Well this condo should last you for years to come, Trey, whether it’s a bachelor pad or your first home with a wife and kid.”

“Condo?” my father asks.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Martin says. “They just started dating.”

“Just… as an example, sir,” the manager says, attempting to ease her father’s fears. “Now… I think this penthouse is meant to be yours. I mean, what are the chances that it just went back on the market last night?”

“The
penthouse
, Jackson?” Dad asks. “This isn’t a rental?”

“No, sir. This unit is for
sale
. It’s the best unit in the building. On the block, really.”

“Did you know this?”

“Yeah, Dad. I want to look at it. I want
you
to look at it.”

“A twenty-one-hundred square-foot penthouse. Huh,” he says. “New building. Park view. What are we talking, four-and-a-half mil?”

“You’re forgetting the thirteen-hundred square-foot terrace,” Mark adds as we ride up the elevator.

“That alone is bigger than your current apartment,” my father reminds me.

“Oh, I know. It’ll last me for years to come, though.”

“So upwards of six million. Am I close?”

“You’re good, Mr. Holland. Five-nine.”

Dad glares at me as we exit the lift directly into the penthouse. “Oh, wow,” he says, immediately distracted by the glass doors that lead to the patio. “This is all private?”

“Yes, sir. Feel free to explore.”

Both of our fathers head outside while Coley and I investigate the rest of the condo. “There’s so much light. And the ceilings are so high,” she says while we stand in the living room. “I love it. Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I mean, look at the floor. And there’s a fireplace?”

“Gas,” Mark says.

“Okay.”

“The windows slide into the wall like so,” he says, demonstrating for me.

“That’s awesome,” I say, smiling as I look at the southern view.

“The kitchen is great,” he says. “Stone countertops and incredible wood cabinets. A gas stove. Plenty of space. Do you cook?”

“Sometimes,” I tell him. “I would more in a place like this.”

“This area’s great for a dining room, or if you don’t need that, maybe a little home office. You could put a desk or two in here, but I can’t promise you’d get much homework done with these views.”

“I want a desk here,” Coley says, marching up to a window and planting herself in front of it. “I promise I’ll write my articles, boss. They’ll be the best articles you’ve ever read.”

“You want a desk, huh?” I ask her.

“Wouldn’t you love to work in here?”

“I would,” I admit. “I would love to have two desks by the windows. And maybe a small pub table right here where we can edit?”

“I love that idea. Dark wood.”

“Whatever,” I say. “Just give me a hard surface and two seats.”

Mark continues the tour, taking us into the smaller bathrooms and past the two standard bedrooms. A long hallway leads us to the master bedroom. The bathroom is great; there’s a ton of closet space, the living area is huge, but the best part is the view. Nearly the entire far wall is glass that opens up onto the covered terrace. At the moment, our dads are leaning against the railing, talking about something.

Sheer curtains are already built in and are pushed to the sides of the room.

“I’m in love,” Coley says.

“This is crazy,” I tell her. “And perfect. And a little crazy.” I open the door to the patio, letting her go outside first.

“No way.”

“This would all be mine?” I ask Mark. “This entire patio?” I look around at the vast expanse of outdoor space in awe.

“All yours.”

“The view is perfect. No prying eyes.” There are no tall buildings around. In fact, the closest one is my old apartment, which I can see from the edge of the terrace, across the park. “Dad, go look inside,” I instruct him.

“Tell me what you think,” he says.

“I think it’s perfect. There’s plenty of room for guests. Hell, Max could even live here over the summer, if he wanted, with that third bedroom.” I know he always feels so far from the rest of us when he comes home since his mom is in Queens, but this would be a good solution if he ever wanted to stay in Manhattan until he gets a place of his own–
if
he decides to move back after college. “And the view, well, it’s even better than my view now. I can see the entire island. Jon can help me figure something out with all this terrace space.”

He walks inside, and I follow him as he barely looks at the condo. We end up in the living space. “You’ll need all new furniture. Everything you have is too small for this apartment.”

“It’s fine for now,” I tell him, shrugging my shoulders.

He shakes his head. “This is home to you? This feels like home?”

“It does.”

“Let’s get the paperwork going, then,” he says to Mark.

“Do you like it?” I ask him.

“You don’t need my permission. You just need my money,” he says with a smile.

“But I want to know if you think it’s a bad investment.”

“I wouldn’t let you make a bad investment, Jackson. I’m envious of the terrace alone. You could get a tent and camp out some nights. I bet your nieces would love that. Jon and Livvy’s rooftop doesn’t have the view this place does.”

I start thinking about all the possibilities. Coley and her father come inside through the living room doorway and join us.

“Why don’t you let Aunt Anna and Livvy get you set up with furniture and decorations? Your mom would love to help, too. I think they were all planning a day of shopping tomorrow, anyway. We can donate your current things to one of the charities.”

“Can we keep the couch for Max?”

“We can store it in Livvy’s warehouse.”

“So, you’re getting it?” Coley asks.

“I am, I guess.”

“This is amazing. Just… amazing.”

“If you’d like to follow me down, we can get started on all the paperwork,” Mark tells us, guiding us into one of the elevators.

“What colors do you like?” I ask my girlfriend as we step inside.

“What?”

“Like, if you were decorating. I hope you’ll be spending a lot of time here. What colors?”

“Natural colors. Colors of the sea. Corals, blues, tans, maybe some pale yellow.”

“Sounds perfect. Dad, can you let Anna know?”

“I will. Martin, why don’t you drive them back to Trey’s apartment while I take care of things here?”

“I have homework,” Coley says.

“Me, too. And packing, apparently.” Martin goes outside to start the car.

“Just get things organized,” Dad tells me. “We can hire some people to come in to help. We’ll get you out of there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I give him a hug. “You’ll walk back?” I ask him.

“I’ll just get a car home. I’ll call you when it’s done.”

“It’s move-in ready, Trey, so the place will be yours when the papers are signed.”

“Thanks, Mark. It was nice to meet you.”

“I look forward to you moving in!”

There is still a mob of people surrounding the entrance to my building when we pull up. Here, it’s impossible to blend in. Even with a hood on, a 6’4” guy with my build can’t sneak by anyone.

“How are we going to do this?” I ask. My only objective is getting Coley into the apartment safely.

Her dad turns off the engine and pockets his keys. “I’m walking my daughter in,” Martin tells the valet. “We’ll go first and hope no one recognizes her.” He opens the back door and helps her out, attempting to shield her, but the crowd goes crazy.

“It’s her!”

“That’s the girl!”

“Coley!”

“He’s still with her?”

“I think Trey’s in the car, too!”

“Surely it was a fling.”

“She could be a stripper.”

Suddenly, I can’t see her anymore because people are peering into the tinted windows. I decide to fight the crowd myself and get this over with. I can barely get out of the car. I have to push the door against people to open it. People are touching me and screaming, and someone pulls the hood off of my head, causing a flurry of flashbulbs. I endure the madness, weaving in between curious reporters and rude paparazzi until I get inside. I thought it would be better in there.

“Seriously, Jerry?” I say angrily, looking at the concierge. I normally don’t allow my temper to get the best of me, but I can’t believe the entire lobby is packed with people. “This has to be against fire code or something!”

“I’m sorry. We’re trying.”

“Trey!” I hear Coley’s voice over the rest of the crowd and spot her at the elevators. With my head down, I barrel through and make it to her.

“Talk to you later, Nic. You’re not such a bad kid, Trey.” I shake his hand quickly.

“Bye, Daddy,” she says as he stands guard, and the doors finally close us off from the noise.

In the privacy of the elevator, I finally feel like it’s safe to breathe. “Did you hear what people were yelling?”

“I heard, ‘He invited her back for seconds,’ and then I tuned them out,” she says. “Seconds? Am I a meal? Are
you
a meal?” She squints her eyes and shakes her head. “Never mind. There’s no need to answer that.”

I’m glad she didn’t hear the comment about her being a stripper. How anyone could look at this intelligent, creative woman and think that is beyond me. I guess if they’ve only seen her body, it’s easy to objectify her like that. But still, there are reporters down there. How can they call themselves journalists without doing just a tiny bit of research? They’d easily find she’s a student at Columbia. A fellow writer on
The Wit
. An accomplished poet.

Idiots.

“Tomorrow should be fun,” I tell her sarcastically.

“I don’t even want to think about it. We both have homework. Let’s distract ourselves for awhile.”

“Can you finish your article first?” I ask her, opening the door to my apartment. “So I can get that editing out of the way.”

“Boss mode,” she says, then sighs.

“I’m sorry. I just look forward to that bit of homework. I need something to look forward to.”

“Come here.” She tugs on my arm, and I lean down to kiss her. Her fingers thread through my hair. “I’ll finish the article first, but you have other things to look forward to.”

“What?”

“A new condo… and maybe some post-homework rewards.”

I wrap my arms around her. “You’re right. Just having you here is a great thing, Coley. And not because you really have nowhere else to go. I want you here.”

“Good. I want to be here.”

“I hope you’ll come stay with me in the new place, too, even though it’s a little farther.”

“The extra block won’t hinder me. Don’t worry about that.”

“Okay.” I sit down on the sofa and grab my astronomy book, flipping it open to the chapter we’re reading. “Coley?”

“Yeah?”

“With everything that’s happened this weekend… do you have any regrets?”

She scoots as close as she can get to me on the couch. “Just that I haven’t assured you enough that I love you and I’m happy with you. You shouldn’t have to ask me that question.”

“I come with a lot of baggage.”

“Well, so do I. And yours isn’t as ugly. Trust me.” I kiss her fully. “We can help each other carry it.” She nuzzles her nose against mine and looks me in the eyes.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

“You’re welcome… and thank you.”

chapter twenty-four

With the exception of a handful of tabloid reporters, most of the world seems to have either gone back to work or lost interest in me and Coley by Monday morning. We still wear our respective hoodies and choose to take a taxi the few blocks to campus instead of walking, but at my apartments, I don’t think we gave anyone any material to work with.