Page 91 of Forbidden Romeo
“This is New York City,” I respond. “I could get a cab at any time of day… naked… while talking to an invisible cat.”
“Your butt is sweating,” Jill says from where she’s leaning in the doorway of our kitchen.
I whirl around to face her. “Of course it’s sweating! I’m nervous as hell! All this time I thought he took my virginity as Romeo, then left me. I thought he threw me to the wolves to defend our actions to my classmates for the next three and a half years. Meanwhile, he did it all to save my spot in the program. I have to see him. I can’t read the final entry in his journal without him here with me. And I don’t have the willpower to wait until tomorrow. So I’m going now.”
Jill and Mallory share a quick glance until Jill simply nods; like they have some sort of unspoken agreement. Like they’re letting me go.
It infuriates me, but I don’t have time to deal with them. Not when Holden and I have lost so much time as it is. I don’t want to lose another second.
I race down my stairs, not wanting to wait for the ancient elevator to collect me. When I make it outside, I rush out to the corner of the street, hailing the first cab I find.
Slamming the door shut, I give the driver Holden’s address, my heart racing as the taxi speeds off and weaves through the mostly deserted streets.
The city lights blur past me through the window as the sun breaches the horizon over the East River, streaking the navy sky with wisps of gold.
The cab makes it to the grand high rise on the upper west side in record time. I pay the driver quickly and rush inside, skidding to a stop in front of the doorman. The last time I was inside this building was when I’d learned Holden was back together with Missy. It feels like a lifetime ago.
“May I help you, ma’am?” He looks at me skeptically, like I might be here to drop off menus to the Italian sandwich shop around the corner.
“I’m here to see Holden Dorsey,” I say. “I mean… Holden James. Holden James Dorsey,” I clarify, realizing I’m not sure which name he has on his lease here.
“Identification?”
Still clutching Holden’s journal in my arms, I set it on the counter and yank my ID free from my wallet, handing it over.
The man runs his palm over his slick, dark hair, then lifts the phone and dials a number. After several silent seconds, he lowers it again to its cradle. “I’m sorry Ms. Harris, but it seems like Mr. Dorsey isn’t home.”
Isn’t home? “But… it’s five-thirty in the morning,” I say. Where the hell could he be if he isn’t home?
Ugly thoughts rear their head in my mind, but I push them aside.
He wouldn’t be running away. Not again.
And I know he’s not with another woman.
I know now I can trust him, even when it doesn’t seem like I can.
“Well… do you know when he’ll be back?” I plead.
The doorman eyes me skeptically. "I have no idea when he'll return. And even if I did, I wouldn't be at liberty to share that information."
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back defiantly. “Can’t you make an exception? Or … or… is there a list of approved people?—”
“There is a list. You’re not on it.” He shakes his head with a finality that stings more than it should. “No exceptions. You can try coming back at a normal hour.”
And with that, he turns his back to me, making it clear the conversation is over.
Defeated, I go through the gold revolving doors that spit me back out onto the dusky, quiet street. People in the city are beginning to wake up. A couple of early joggers pass by me. One older woman walks her dog, paper cup of cheap bodega coffee in hand.
I slump down, sitting on a bump out of the building and hug my knees to my chest.
I exhale a deep sigh, watching my breath mist in the chilly morning air as worry gnaws at my insides. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic in my chest.
I'm startled from my thoughts as a huge, black SUV turns onto the street, its headlights cutting through the milky dawn. As it pulls to a stop in front of me, I scramble to my feet, almost dropping Holden’s journal in my haste.
Holden jumps out of the car, his expression melting from surprise to concern in nearly an instant. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” His voice is so gentle, his eyes shining with so much sincerity that whatever is left of my heart, shatters into dust.
He strides over to me swiftly and cups my face in his hands, his amber eyes searching mine intently.