Читать книгу Love Locks - Cory Martin - Страница 6

Chapter Two

New York

When the minutiae of life take over, the time and the place are no longer signifiers of love: they simply are. Dates, hours, minutes turn into markers of meetings, deadlines, to-do lists. Time moves at an unthinkable pace. Numbers become a driving force. Seasons change. One year morphs into the next.

That is where the story begins yet again.

Dead of winter. New York City. Twenty years later.

Lindsey took the tall drip from the barista at the kiosk on the corner of East Forty-Second into her leather-gloved hands. “Thanks, Mario,” she said as she dropped a dollar into the tip jar.

“You’re welcome,” Mario said. “It’s a pleasure to see you every morning.”

“You, too. See you tomorrow!”

Mario waved as she walked off into the bustling crowds. The lightly falling snow dusted the top of her head. She’d pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail, leaving her ears cold. Lindsey’s brisk pace kept the rest of her warm, though, as she trudged through the slush that had gathered along the sidewalks. Her tall boots and black trench coat were practical but also stylish, perfect for the quintessential New York businesswoman.

Lindsey was the founder and editor in chief of POV, a notable magazine. Though its circulation was small compared to the well-established art glossies, POV had found its niche and a strong following. She was proud of the periodical. Next to her daughter, it was her everything. Even if it wasn’t what she’d set out to do with her life, she felt that she’d managed to make a career out of her knowledge of art.

The office was already bustling with art directors, copy editors, and writers pulling together the latest issue. Standing desks with large computers were organized in rows. It was a sleek but creative environment.

“Morning, Lindsey,” her assistant said as Lindsey made her way through POV.

“Morning, Maggie.” Lindsey continued walking toward her office.

Maggie fell into step with her. She looked sharp as always in a suit with a red blouse that complimented her dark skin. “First cup of coffee?”

“Third. We set for the Valentine’s Day issue?” It was the beginning of January, and the magazine had to go to print in a few days.

“You just need to pick a cover.” Maggie held up her iPad and flipped through two different options. One was all red with simple graphics and the other showed a Cupid with a heart and arrow.

“Not the Cupid.” Lindsey hadn’t been a fan of Valentine’s Day for quite some time now, and the Cupid was too much. “The last thing I want to think about is a chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.”

“Such a romantic,” Maggie quipped. Lindsey laughed and refrained from making an even more cynical comment. Maybe Maggie still had a sense of naiveté when it came to love. Though Lindsey’s own idea of love as magic had gone, she didn’t want to ruin it for someone else. Especially Maggie, who’d been her rock the past couple years as the magazine had grown. If she still believed in romance, then Lindsey didn’t want to stop her. “Oh, speaking of romance,” Maggie said, “Trent Greer’s in your office.”

“What?” Trent Greer owned several of the biggest magazines in the world. He also happened to be one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. He was smart, successful, and good-looking. He’d never been married and had hit the perfect age of bachelorhood—forty-six. He’d established his career, owned a home—probably several—knew what he wanted, and simply needed the perfect woman to complement his lifestyle. Just about everyone knew who he was. “What does he want?”

“Who cares? He’s gorgeous.” Maggie handed Lindsey a document. Behind her glasses, her eyes narrowed. “Before you go in there, do something with your hair.”

Lindsey took a quick glance at her reflection in the glass. She was perfectly put together. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Maggie shrugged. “You could try wearing it down sometime,” she said lightly.

“Don’t you have something to do?” Lindsey teased. Maggie laughed as she walked away.

I look fine, Lindsey thought. I’m going into an unexpected meeting with a peer, and I look completely acceptable.

Lindsey stepped into her office: a large, spare space with a huge window overlooking the city. Trent was dressed in a navy pinstriped suit, most likely bespoke, made specifically for his taut body. He stood tall and confident as Lindsey walked in.

“Trent, what a surprise.” Lindsey tried not to stare too long. She had seen him at gallery openings around the city, but they’d never conversed much nor been this close in person.

“I hope this is a good surprise,” he said with a flash of his perfect white teeth.

“It’s good.” Lindsey thought about the fact that she hadn’t been on a date in over a year, then quickly stopped herself. She was in her office, and Trent was probably there because of business.

“Good. Good.” An awkward pause hung between them. “I’m glad. I wanted to catch you before you left. Your assistant said you’re leaving for Paris with your daughter tomorrow.”

Her daughter, Alexa, was eighteen and had completed her first semester at the University of Connecticut. Saying goodbye to Alexa the past August had been hard. Lindsey hadn’t been alone in a long while. After Jack, she’d spent one year single, then met Dane. She’d been eager to believe she’d found love again, and before long, they’d gotten married. A year later, Alexa had been born. She and Dane had divorced when Alexa was two.

Alexa had lived with Lindsey most of the time, so the past four months of living alone in her Brooklyn loft had been an adjustment, to say the least. Now Alexa was going to study in France. Although the art program at UConn was one of the best in the state, it wasn’t the same as the Sorbonne. That’s why Alexa had applied to the same exchange program Lindsey had gone on. Though Lindsey was dreading taking her daughter to Paris, she was also happy for her.

“Did my assistant also tell you what I ate for breakfast?” Lindsey asked, teasing.

“French toast?” Trent responded. They both laughed. It was a moment Lindsey hadn’t had in a while. She imagined suggesting to him that they meet for breakfast sometime, or dinner… but no. He wasn’t here for romance.

“I can’t believe you’re old enough to have a daughter old enough to be in college,” Trent said.

“Well, I am old enough to know when someone’s buttering me up,” Lindsey quipped.

“All right, here it is. I’d like to take you out.”

Lindsey paused. Her thoughts of dating him were just fantasy, the kind people had about George Clooney or Brad Pitt. The what-if thoughts that are never supposed to come true. “Oh,” she said.

“And I’d like to buy your magazine.”

Now things were starting to make a little more sense. This wasn’t really about her—it was about her business.

“Oh,” she said again.

Trent looked perplexed. “Is that a yes/yes, no/yes, or yes/no?”

Lindsey paused. Now she was the one confused. “Yes. And no. I don’t know.”

Trent smiled and straightened his tie. “You’ve done an incredible job with POV. It’s unique and you’ve done it yourself on a limited budget. I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

“You have?” She knew he knew her name, but other than that, it was odd that he’d done his research. She understood now what was happening. Him asking her out wasn’t about her single status, it was about her magazine’s status. “I’m flattered.”

“You should be. You’ve done amazing things with POV. But here’s the thing—your readership’s maxed out.”

Now Lindsey could feel herself getting defensive. She had poured everything into POV. Though she’d wanted more kids, things hadn’t worked out that way, and her magazine had become her second child. When she and Dane had divorced three years into their marriage, she’d quit painting altogether. At that point, it had become a luxury. It was no longer a passion that she hoped would turn into a career. Hope didn’t pay the bills, and neither did her art.

Lindsey had gone to work consulting for galleries around New York City. When Alexa was in second grade, Lindsey had started POV out of the small Queens apartment she’d been able to afford with her consulting work and the alimony Dane paid. Year after year, the magazine had grown, and by the time Alexa entered high school, Lindsey was able to afford a staff and offices in a prime high-rise.

Yes, their readership was still too low, but she had plans to grow it. She didn’t want to sell the magazine now.

“We’re doing fine with the readers we have,” Lindsey said.

“True. But you could be doing better. I can help you take POV to the next level.”

Lindsey had been in business long enough to know that when someone wanted to help you take things to the next level, it almost always meant something else. He wasn’t there to give her guidance and help.

“You want to buy me out?”

“You’ll stay on to consult,” Trent said with a smile, as if he’d just offered her the keys to the kingdom.

“So I’d be working for you then.”

“No, you’d be working with me.” Trent moved a little closer. “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

“The thing is, I’m pretty used to being my own boss,” Lindsey said. This was true. She hadn’t worked for anyone else in over ten years. The thought of working under someone, even if he was one of the hottest guys in publishing, sounded like instant death to her. She’d already given up once on her dreams. She wasn’t about to give this up, too.

“Believe me, I get that. When I opened my first publishing house, the last thing on my mind was selling it. But I did. And I ended up building a bigger one,” Trent said.

He had a point. But still, she wasn’t ready to let go so quickly.

“Just think about it while you’re away,” he said. “And the other ‘it,’ too. I really would like to take you out.”

“I will. And I will,” Lindsey replied, more confused than ever.

Trent’s phone rang. He hit ignore then turned to her. “Almost forgot, I’m in London next week. It’s a short flight to Paris. I could show you our offices there.”

“You must really want this magazine.”

“That, too,” he replied as he picked up his phone and dialed the last caller. “See you soon,” he said as he left her office.

Lindsey stood in silence and watched as Trent disappeared around the corner. What had just happened?

“Tell me he’s not the best-looking guy you’ve ever seen,” Maggie said as she walked into the doorway and caught the tail end of Trent leaving.

“I wish I could,” Lindsey said, deadpan.

Maggie turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“He wants to buy the magazine.” Saying those words out loud suddenly made the whole exchange seem hyper-real.

“Seriously?” Maggie asked. Lindsey nodded. “What did you say?”

“I wanted to say ‘no,’ but somehow, I didn’t. I’m not even sure what I said.”

“I’m pretty sure he has that effect on everyone,” Maggie said. They both smiled because it was true. For a moment, they were silent, and then Maggie asked, “Would it be so bad to sell? I’m leaving in a few months anyway.” She’d gotten an offer to be an editor at a magazine based in Los Angeles, and Lindsey had understood why she couldn’t refuse. While Maggie loved New York, she also loved the water and the lack of seasons on the West Coast.

“That’s exactly why I can’t sell. You’re leaving. My daughter’s leaving. I’m not giving up my business, too.” The reality of the situation hit Lindsey hard. What would she do without POV? She’d have nothing.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell? He is soooo good-looking. Getting to stare at him every day might be worth it.”

Lindsey laughed at Maggie’s comment.

“I thought that might get you,” Maggie said.

Lindsey smiled, then realized she didn’t have to figure everything out in that moment. “C’mon, let’s finish the layout. We have to get the February issue out today.” Together, Lindsey and Maggie walked over to one of the designer’s desks. The interior design of one of the pages was pulled up on the screen.

A painting with white titles over it was on the left side of the page. “Increase the opacity so we can see the titles better, move the Gaucher to center, and make it five by seven so it almost touches the borders,” Lindsey said. The graphic artist made the changes with a few clicks on her keyboard. “Perfect,” Lindsey said. “Send the final files in. We’re ready to print.”

Maggie and Lindsey walked away and headed back toward Lindsey’s office. “You packed yet?” Maggie asked.

“I’m packing tonight.” Lindsey had been putting it off. She still couldn’t believe her daughter was moving so far away or that she was going back to Paris after all these years. She hadn’t returned since she’d studied abroad. Valentine’s Day that year had come and gone, and Jack never arrived. The phone calls and letters slowed to a halt, and honestly, she’d all but forgotten about him—until her daughter had decided to spend the next semester following in her footsteps.

“Throw in something sexy,” Maggie said with a smile.

“Why?” Lindsey was going to be spending every day and night with her daughter before she moved into her dorm.

“You’re going to Paris, girl. Not New Jersey.”

Maggie did have a point, but Lindsey didn’t want to think about it. The last time she fell in love in Paris, she’d ended up heartbroken.

She had no plans to repeat her past. This trip to France would be all about Alexa. Speaking of, she still had a lot to do before she left, and her daughter would be home soon. She smiled and finished the last of her coffee. “You know what? I’m going to take the rest of the day off. Can you handle everything? The next issue’s ready for print, and I do need to pack.”

“Of course,” Maggie said.

“I’ll be on my cell if you need me,” Lindsey said, then left the office.

Back home in Brooklyn, Lindsey finished putting the last of her clothes into her suitcase. She crammed four days’ worth of sightseeing outfits, including shoes, into one small suitcase. Just before she zipped up the bag, she paused and thought about what Maggie had said. Throw in something sexy.

She went back into her closet and pulled out a little black dress that she’d last worn to the POV launch party years ago. She’d purchased the classic designer dress with the first order of the magazine. She’d been wary about spending that much money before the magazine had launched, but now she half-believed that the dress had brought her luck. She could at least take along a little luck. She’d need it to get through saying goodbye to Alexa for so long without a bunch of tears. As she folded up the dress, something in the back of her closet caught her eye.

She reached inside and pulled out a painting of a beautiful Paris scene. It was the last full painting she’d done when she was abroad. It had always hung in her apartment, but when she’d moved to her loft in Brooklyn three years ago, she’d placed it in the back of the closet. She’d held on to the painting as a reminder that there was a time and a place when life was simple and full of love. Now that she was approaching forty, and the magazine had grown, and she’d been able to purchase her own home, she felt like life was good. She didn’t need a reminder of her younger years anymore. But holding that painting in her hands brought back a flood of memories.

What had happened to Jack? She’d never bothered to ask her mentor, Hugo, because he would’ve tracked Jack down and demanded answers. Even if Jack had a good explanation, the answers wouldn’t have changed a thing. The fact was, Jack never showed up. He’d made his choice clear. He didn’t want to spend his life with her. But now that she was going back to Paris, she couldn’t help but wonder where he’d ended up. Was he still there, or had his father taken him to another city to work on his latest hotel?

Lindsey picked up the painting and was about to put it back in the closet when a voice came from around the corner.

“Hi, Mom!”

Lindsey nearly dropped the painting as Alexa came bounding into her bedroom.

“You’re early!” Lindsey leaned the painting against the wall and gave her daughter a giant hug. Then she looked her over, wondering if she’d been eating right and getting enough sleep. She looked healthy and cheerful, her long brown hair pulled back from her face.

“I caught a ride from a guy at school,” Alexa said.

“What guy?” Lindsey asked with a sense of worry.

“I found him on the ride board in the dorm.” Alexa looked pleased with herself.

“You drove from Connecticut with a total stranger?” It seemed as if just yesterday Alexa was waiting for the bus to take her to kindergarten. Now she was driving home from college—with a stranger.

“I was with two other friends, Mom. It’s no big deal.”

“So all three of you rode with a total stranger,” Lindsey said, pointing out the obvious.

“Mom… you’re helicoptering again.”

Lindsey thought for a moment. “You’re right. Engine’s off.” Her daughter was about to live in Paris—she could handle herself. But still, she couldn’t help but worry.

“Hey, I remember that,” Alexa said as she picked up the painting. “It used to be in the hallway at our old place. It was one of my favorites growing up. You should put it up again.”

“We have better taste now,” Lindsey said as she took the painting and put it back in the closet behind a couple of umbrellas and some old coats.

Alexa reached for it again. “You know, that painting is one of the reasons I’m going to Paris now.”

Lindsey stopped her. “You’re going to the Sorbonne. That’s why you’re going. It’s an education and an experience that you can’t miss.”

“Yes, but I never would’ve known about the Sorbonne had I not asked you all those questions every time I passed that painting when I was little.”

Alexa had a point. Lindsey smiled at the memory. Her daughter had constantly wanted to hear more about her life as a painter, even if it was a small blip in the big scheme of things.

Lindsey pulled Alexa in for another hug. “You always were a curious one.”

“I was. So, tell me again, why did you stop painting?”

“I guess my fine arts degree taught me the fine art of unemployment,” Lindsey replied so quickly that even she believed it was true. Yes, there was truth to that statement, but there was so much more.

After that day on the bridge with Jack, she’d stopped painting. She hadn’t told anyone that at the time. Instead, she’d pretended that she was working on projects secretly. But it wasn’t true. Her plan was to start painting again in New York, but when he never came, she’d lost interest. Then it became easy to blame it on lack of time. She was newly married, and then had a baby, then needed money to support herself and Alexa. Although it had been her first love, painting had become the thing that evoked the most regret.

“Maybe you’ll start again,” Alexa said.

“It’s your turn now, kiddo,” Lindsey said in all honesty. Her time had passed. Now was Alexa’s time to experience the magic of youth. “You hungry?”

Alexa nodded and in unison, they said, “Pasta. Alfredo sauce. Extra cheese.” It was a ritual for the two of them. Whenever they wanted to connect or life seemed to get too serious, they always had Alfredo pasta.

Lindsey missed having her baby at home. Yes, in her mind, Alexa would always be the little girl curled up in her arms late at night in their small Queens apartment. Alexa, whether she knew it or not, had been through some of the tough times of Lindsey’s life. In some ways, Alexa was like Lindsey’s guardian angel.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Hugo,” Lindsey said as she stirred the simmering sauce.

“Me either!” For years, Lindsey had told Alexa stories about Hugo. Even though Alexa had never met him, she seemed to consider him as some kind of uncle. When she was accepted into the exchange program, the first thing she inquired about was Hugo. She wanted to mentor under him just as her mom had done.

“He’s the best teacher. He’s kind of a meddler, so don’t let him know anything about your social life,” Lindsey said. When she and Jack first started dating, Hugo needed to know all the details. He wanted to know where Jack was from, how they met, and most important, if they felt the amour. Lindsey had made the mistake of telling him they were indeed in love, and he was the one who had encouraged her to prompt Jack to put a lock on the bridge. At the time, she was painting a scene of the bridge and the locks, and Hugo had told her that paintings have more meaning when you experience them in real life. His advice was similar to the words of wisdom writers had been receiving for years.

“Paint what you know,” Hugo had said.

Lindsey loved the scene she had painted on the bridge, but she knew it was missing that je ne sais quoi. So, she had tried to experience the power of the locks. To her dismay, she was never able to complete the painting, because as hard as she tried, it never felt quite right. She’d left the unfinished canvas behind and completely forgotten about it until that moment.

Lindsey shook her head to release the memory and went back to making the pasta and focusing on Alexa.

“Though, I wouldn’t worry about Hugo meddling too much. I don’t expect you to have much of a social life because you’ll be busy studying and painting, right?” Lindsey prodded, hoping that her daughter didn’t feel the need to experience life in France the way she had.

“Yes, Mom,” Alexa said as she picked up The New York Times crossword puzzle from the kitchen table. “Ten letter word for soul mate?”

“Delusional?”

Alexa shook her head. “You’re terrible.”

“Or realistic. Why should there be only one person for everyone?” Lindsey asked. After Jack and then Dane, she no longer believed in “the one.”

“But what if there is?” Alexa asked. “What if there is just one person?”

As a mom, Lindsey wanted to keep her daughter’s hope and innocence alive, but as a woman who’d experienced love and loss, she wanted to stop her daughter from making the same mistakes she had. “Remember when I had to tell you there was no Tooth Fairy? Well… brace yourself again,” Lindsey said.

“Just because you were right about the Tooth Fairy, doesn’t mean you’re right about this.”

Lindsey shook her head. She wanted to explain further, but there was no use arguing. She was Alexa’s age once, and she knew how hopelessly romantic a young girl could be.

Alexa’s phone started buzzing and she looked down at the screen. “It’s Dad.”

“Right on time. Proof positive that love is like the Tooth Fairy.”

“Mom!” Alexa exclaimed as she picked up the phone. She started talking to her dad.

Lindsey went back to cooking, but she could overhear Dane tell Alexa to be careful.

While he hadn’t been a great husband, he’d always been a great father, and for that, Lindsey was appreciative.

“Say hi to Jane for me,” Alexa said before hanging up.

“Who’s Jane?” Lindsey asked.

“Dad and Marcie are separated. It looks like he’s headed for number three.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lindsey said, and she meant it. Marcie and Dane married two years after his and Lindsey’s divorce. Although things were complicated at first, Lindsey knew that Alexa and Marcie had a good relationship, and she hated to see her daughter have to deal with more disruption of family than she already had, even if she was an adult. “You shouldn’t refer to your dad’s wives by number.”

“At least you’re still number one.”

“Yay,” Lindsey said apathetically.

“You know what I look forward to? The day I get to tell Dad that you’re with someone else,” Alexa quipped. Since the split, Lindsey had dated men here and there, but she’d never found anyone serious. For her, love was never a focus. She already had her two loves—Alexa and the magazine. She didn’t have time for anything else.

“At least you’ll always have something to look forward to,” Lindsey said.

“Mom. Come on. I’m in college now. You have this whole giant place to yourself. Don’t you want someone to share it with?”

“I get to share it with you during holidays and summer. Besides, I’m more concerned with work right now,” Lindsey said.

“You always say that,” Alexa said.

“Actually, someone wants to buy POV. And not just someone—Trent Greer.”

Alexa’s eyes lit up. “The publishing guy?” Lindsey nodded. “That’s great!”

“It would be if I was selling,” Lindsey replied.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Sweetie, it’s what I do every day. It’s who I am. I’m not selling my life.”

Alexa looked as if she was going to hold back, but couldn’t stop herself from saying more. “What life? All you do is work. You know I love the magazine, but it’s the only relationship you have.”

“I have you,” Lindsey protested.

“When was the last time you went out and did something that wasn’t related to business?”

Lindsey thought about it for a moment. There had to be something else she did, but she couldn’t think of anything. She tried again, but nothing. Finally, she decided to change the subject.

“Can you believe you’re going to Paris for three whole months?” she asked.

“Nice pivot.” Her daughter knew when she was deflecting.

“Helicopters pivot, right?” Lindsey asked. She didn’t want to talk about letting go of POV anymore.

“You know what? You’re right. I can’t believe I’ll be in Paris for three months. I’m excited. Are you?” Alexa asked.

“For you? Absolutely.”

“I meant for you, Mom. You haven’t been to Paris in twenty years. I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Lindsey replied.

“We’re going to have fun. We’re going to Paris!”

Lindsey smiled at Alexa’s enthusiasm then pulled the pot of boiling water off the stove. She fished out two noodles, handed one to Alexa, then grabbed one for herself. Together, they threw them against the wall. The pasta stuck and they exclaimed, “Done!”

“Now let’s eat. We’ve got an early flight to catch, and you need your beauty rest,” Alexa said.

“Excuse me?” Lindsey asked with a smile.

“No offense, Mom. But you’re not as young as you used to be, and you never know who you might meet. It’s Paris! Anything can happen.”

Isn’t that right, Lindsey thought, then wondered once again what had happened to Jack.