Nine
Regardless of how I’d ended up at Central Park, I couldn’t deny its magnificence. New York was nothing but hustle and bustle, but the second I stepped foot in the park, it was as if I was stepping into a bubble of tranquility. It was like a beautiful oasis in the middle of the city. I could see the tall buildings along the outskirts, but the park itself muted all of the activity going on outside its gates.
I walked around aimlessly, taking everything in at first. It really was beautiful. People were running and walking their dogs, or just lying on the grass reading a book. I wished I lived closer so I could take advantage of the park. Although it didn’t look a thing like Iowa, it was the first thing in New York that had any semblance of home.
I stopped when I descended down some steps and was greeted with the famous fountain I’d seen a million times in the movies. I found a bench nearby and sat down. I should be excited to be sitting here, but I wasn’t and as I stared at the fountain, I knew it was because Ethan wasn’t with me. I imagined my first time in Central Park would be with him, not alone and stewing over how hurt I was. I missed him next to me though. I missed holding his hand. I just plain missed him. I hated when we fought. I hated being angry with him, but when I really thought about it with my brain and not my heart, I thought perhaps I shouldn’t be so angry with Ethan. Deep down, I knew he hadn’t done it to hurt me. I knew he was just thinking about us and I’d be lying if I said an extra shift wouldn’t help. I knew I was allowing the hurt to fester because I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be mad at him because I was so frustrated with our situation. I hadn’t really allowed myself to think about my feelings. Moving to New York had been the craziest thing I’d ever done and I stupidly thought it would be okay. I had this idealistic view of what our life would be. I knew it would be different than college, I just hadn’t expected to feel so lonely or to miss him so much even though we lived in the same house. I had some delusion that we’d be happier than we’d been in Iowa. It was a hard reality when I realized we weren’t.
I was looking around at all the people walking past me and then I noticed a figure jogging in my direction. He looked familiar. Tall and athletic, his black hair bouncing each time his foot hit the ground. He was focused, his eyes staring straight ahead and he ran right past me, but then he stopped a few feet later and turned, doing a double-take when our eyes met.
“Natalie?”
“Hey, Drew,” I said and he started walking towards me. I noticed his t-shirt was dripping with perspiration. An iPod was attached to his arm and he pulled the earbuds out, holding them in his hand. His sweaty hair hung across his forehead and he pushed it back quickly. He was trying to catch his breath and as I looked up at him, even though he was in drenched workout clothes, I was still taken aback by how perfect he looked. The advertisement in Times Square I’d imagined when I first met him appeared again in my head, only this time, it was a Nike ad.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, looking around and then drawing his eyes back to mine.
“Just relaxing, checking out the park.”
“Do you mind?” he asked, gesturing to the spot on the bench next to me and I shook my head. He sat down and I was surprised that even though he was drenched in sweat, he still smelled so good. “First time at the park?”
“Yeah,” I answered.
“And? What do you think of it?”
“It’s pretty spectacular.”
“They don’t have parks like this in Iowa?” he laughed.
“Not quite like this,” I grinned.
“I love coming to the park. It’s like the whole crazy world that is Manhattan just disappears while I’m here.”
“It does make you forget,” I said and then we were quiet for a moment. “Do you run here a lot?” I finally asked to break the awkward silence.
“I try to. At least a few times a week, when I have the time. I have a treadmill in my apartment, but it can’t beat the fresh air, especially since winter will be here soon,” he said and I nodded before he continued. “Are you here alone?”
“I am,” I admitted, sounding more dejected than I probably should and I knew Drew had picked up on my somber mood.
“Are you okay? You seem upset.”
“I’m fine, just a little tired,” I lied.
“I’m not buying that. When I first saw you sitting here you looked as if you were a million miles away.”
“It’s nothing I won’t get over,” I said, wishing he’d drop the subject. I couldn’t very well spill my guts to my boss, especially a boss I hardly knew and a boss who was entirely too good looking.
“It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, ya know,” he prodded and I knew he wouldn’t relent. I’d learned that with the coat.
“Just trying to recover from disappointment,” I said, trying to crack a smile that would hopefully get him to let it go. “Some plans fell though is all,” I added with a shrug of my shoulders as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“Are you gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, shaking my head as if to brush it off. “It’s just my stupid boyfriend. We were supposed to spend the day together.” I stopped then, knowing I shouldn’t be bothering him with the lame details. My personal troubles were no concern of his and I didn’t want to burden him with my juvenile problems. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be carrying on like this, especially with my boss.”
“Hey, I asked, so I opened the door, and unless we’re in the office, I’m not your boss,” he said and I smiled at him in thanks. “What were your plans? The ones that fell through?”
“The MOMA, lunch and well…the park,” I laughed. “But I’m already here.”
“Well,” he grinned. “How ‘bout you and me go knock the other two off your list?”
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. It’s been forever since I’ve been to the MOMA.”
“And you’ve got nothing better to do on a Sunday afternoon?”
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” I said. This was my boss after all. There had to be some sort of rule against this kind of thing.
“C’mon. It’ll be fun. You’ll get your mind off of your
stupid
boyfriend, as you put it, and I’m practically a native, so who better than to show you around? It’s a win, win situation.”
I paused for a moment before answering. I barely knew Drew. He was my boss, but I couldn’t deny that his offer was enticing. An afternoon with him might be exactly what I needed to drag myself out of my sour mood.
“Okay,” I relented and I tried to ignore how appealing spending the day with him sounded. “Thank you, Drew.”
“No need for thanks. Do you mind if I grab a quick shower and a change though? It’ll only take a second.”
“Sure. I’ll just wait here for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can watch TV while I get ready,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand to me. I took it with mine as he pulled me up.
“Where do you live?” I asked as we re-entered the streets of Manhattan and the overwhelming sounds of horns and cars and packed sidewalks.
“Right there,” he said, pointing to a building just across the street from Central Park and I had to stifle a gasp. I hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t one of the fancy buildings I’d passed on my way to the park. When we approached his building, a man in a black suit opened the large gold doors for us.
“Good morning, Mr. Saben,” he said politely.
“How are you today, Charlie?” Drew asked and Charlie replied with a, “Fine, thank you,” as Drew smiled and I followed him in.
The building was even more impressive on the inside. The marble floors and gold accents made it almost look like a museum. I followed Drew to the elevators and he pushed the number twenty. It made a quick ascent and the doors opened again a few moments later.
The hallway was too quiet as we approached his place. It was a far cry from my apartment on the Upper Eastside. He punched in a code on the keypad next to the door, then pushed it open and I followed him inside. When he shut it behind us, I stopped in my tracks, completely in awe of the place.
“Wow,” I whispered involuntarily as my eyes took in the massive apartment.
“What’d you say?” he asked from across the room where he was taking off his iPod armband and placing it on the granite countertop in the kitchen.
“Um…I was just thinking your apartment is beautiful.” I wondered if I sounded as timid as I felt.
“Thanks,” he said, walking into the great room and turning the TV on. “Why don’t you watch some TV while I shower and get changed?”
“Okay,” I said, taking the remote from him.
“I’ll only be a few minutes. Make yourself at home,” he said and then disappeared down a long hallway and I suddenly found myself alone in the huge room. I just stood there, staring at the apartment, feeling completely intimidated and totally out of my comfort zone. The couches were perfection in black leather and the chrome accents were modern and sleek. It looked as if a page had been ripped out of a design magazine and glued into Drew’s apartment. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d designed the scheme himself. Everything else about his style was flawless and I was certain it crossed over into interior decorating.
I finally stopped my gawking and made my way to the couch, sitting myself down as my body molded perfectly to the leather and my eyes started wandering again. The whole apartment was spotless, which honestly surprised me. Ethan had a hard time even getting his clothes in the hamper. Who was I kidding though? So did I. Drew’s house, however, had not one thing out of place, not one speck of dust. It didn’t really feel like a home. Homes were lived in. This place didn’t look lived in. It was too flawless.
I tried not to focus on the perfect apartment and I settled on the huge TV screen. It had to be at least a sixty inch. Since moving to New York, I wasn’t used to seeing TV on anything but my laptop and this was overwhelming, almost like being at the movie theater. The Yankees and Blue Jays game blared through the speakers and I struggled to turn down the volume, but the remote had more buttons than mission control and I finally gave up. Instead, I found the power button and turned it off. It was then I spotted the architecture magazine on the coffee table. I picked it up and noticed a page had been dog-eared. Turning to it, I saw a picture of a building and in the caption underneath, it identified the designer as Andrew Saben, a promising young New York architect. I stared at the words, shocked to see his name in print and I quickly flipped to the front of the book to find the issue date and I discovered that Drew was twenty-five at the time of publication. I didn’t know much about architecture, but I did know that was an impressive feat.
“I see you found my pride and joy,” Drew’s laugh cut in and I fumbled as I tried to close the magazine and set it back down.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been nosing around your stuff,” I said, looking up at him from where I sat on the couch. Aside from the running gear at the park, I’d never seen the casual side of Andrew Saben. I was used to his slacks, dress shirts, and occasional ties at the office, but he looked like a regular guy now. If I didn’t know differently, I might’ve thought he was some cocky college kid in his loose jeans and gray zip up hoodie. His black hair that had been drenched in sweat at the park was now hidden by a faded Yankees hat.
“This was my first publication,” he said, picking up the magazine and looking down at it, a slight smile curling up on his face. “I was pretty excited. I think my mom bought like fifty copies of this magazine. It was my first big piece of work. It happened as I was finishing up grad school.” He looked at it again before closing it and setting it back down on the table. “I don’t know why I keep it out here. Maybe to remind myself how it all started.”
“That’s pretty amazing actually.” He didn’t say anything, but I thought I saw him blush.
“Enough of this talk though. It makes me feel like I’m at work,” he said, clapping his hands together. “You ready to go?”
“Sure,” I said, following him to the door and taking one last look at the apartment before we took the journey back down to the ground floor. I started walking towards the subway, but Drew gently grabbed my arm.
“Where’re you going?”
“The subway.”
“I don’t do the subway. I already warned you about that,” he said, leading me to the curb where he quickly hailed a cab. “To the MOMA please,” he said to the driver when we climbed in the yellow taxi.
“What’s your aversion to the subway?” I asked as we drove.
“The smell, the crowd, the noise. Should I go on?”
“You make it sound like a third world country,” I laughed.
“It’s pretty close.”
“I don’t find it that bad. I take it every day to work.”
“I’m sorry,” he laughed. “You really should stop that.”
I just rolled my eyes and smiled.
“Not all of us have money for daily cab fare.”
“True,” he said smugly and it was the first glimpse I got of Drew being aware of his status.
We arrived in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art a few minutes later. Drew paid the driver and we walked to the entrance. I reached into my purse to take out the admission fee, but Drew stopped me.