The Other Side of Someday (28 page)

“Then what’s the problem?” Uncle Monty asked after I finished. “It sounds like you’re interested in each other. What’s holding you back?”

I gave him a small smile. “He has a girlfriend, and after everything I’ve been through with Will, I just couldn’t…”

He nodded in understanding, running his fingers against his chin. “I get it. You don’t want to be the other woman.”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe you’re looking at things the wrong way. Maybe you’re
not
the other woman.”

“Well, I’m not. We’ve kept our relationship strictly platonic.”

“Apart from both of you being attracted to each other.”

“Sounds about right.” I finished my drink. My uncle gestured to our server to bring another round. She was only too happy to oblige. I wondered what she would write on his cocktail napkin this time. Her bra size perhaps?

“Let me ask you this. Do you think he’s happy with his girlfriend?”

I contemplated his question. “It’s hard to say. She lives in New York, so they only see each other once a month at most. He says he loves the arrangement because it gives him space and time to devote to his career. He knows he’ll eventually need to move to the East Coast if he wants their relationship to work, but he’s not ready for that yet.”

“Do you think that’s because maybe, just maybe, he knows she’s not the one for him?”

“He’d be crazy to think that,” I scoffed. “You should see her. She’s gorgeous, like she just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. She looks exactly like the type of women you date.”

“Most men don’t care about that,” Uncle Monty responded quickly.

“What do you mean?”

“Trust me, Baylee. I’ve dated more women than I should probably admit. I’ve had a very successful career and plenty of women have been attracted to me…or my wallet. I never could tell which one.” He winked. “I’ve dated my fair share of women who had more plastic and Botox injections than anyone should put their bodies through. Yes, I was initially attracted to their beauty, but there was no substance there. I know there’s that old adage that opposites attract—”

“And Sebby says it’s true of him and Mercedes.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Her name’s Mercedes?”

I nodded, stifling a laugh. If there ever were a more perfect name for a New York socialite, I didn’t know what it was, except perhaps Muffy.

“Regardless,” my uncle continued, “at some point, the excitement of being with someone completely different will fade. You’re left with a tug of war, each person trying to pull the other to their side. Unless they’re both willing to meet in the middle on some things, it’s a losing game, especially when one person does all the tugging.”

This was a side of my uncle I had never seen before. He had always been a big presence in my life, even more so after my father died. We were close, but more in a pseudo parental capacity. The way he spoke to me now, an unfocused gaze and a glimmer of unshed tears visible in the corner of his eyes, I couldn’t help but think he was reminded of someone from his past.

“But wouldn’t it be boring to be with someone who shared all the same interests as you?” I asked.

“I’m not saying you have to have all the same interests. Take your mother and father, for example. They were different enough. Your father was your typical southern good ol’ boy, never wanting to leave his hometown. Your mother… God, she had so much life. She wanted to see the world, and she wanted the world to see her. And she did just that. But they worked because they loved each other enough to know when to tug and when to let go.”

“But none of that matters,” I said, shaking off the idea that Sebby and I had a remote chance of being together. “He’s happy. I know how it feels to find out you’ve been cheated on. I couldn’t do that to anyone, no matter what.”

“And I’d never tell you to get involved with someone whose heart belonged to another. I haven’t met this neighbor of yours so I can’t speak too intelligently here, but if everything you’ve told me is any indication, I can’t help but think his heart
doesn’t
belong to someone else.”

“Uncle Monty, how do you—”

“Trust me, Baylee Grace. I wasn’t always the successful bachelor the entire family makes me out to be. There was a time when I didn’t have a care in the world. I was fresh out of law school, had just taken a job as an associate at one of the biggest firms in Charlotte, and was on my own for the first time in my life.” A sentimental look crossing his face, he smiled.

“Who was she?”

“Her name was Carmen and she was a file clerk at the firm. As you can imagine, there was a non-fraternization policy in place for all employees, particularly between associates and support staff. We became friendly, at first hanging out during office happy hour, then meeting to go to a museum, ball game, a concert here and there. I valued her company, and she enjoyed mine.”

“But you couldn’t take it any further because of your work,” I said. He nodded. “What happened?”

“I started to hear whispers around the water cooler. People at the office noticed how I lingered at her desk when asking her to do something, how she joined me for lunch meetings in my office. Of course, no one believed we were just friends because how could a man and woman just be friends?” he asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Since the entire firm was under the impression we had something going on and no disciplinary action had been taken, I decided I was going to tell her how I felt. It was a Friday evening and most of the office was at happy hour. I was working late since I had a trial starting the following Monday. I was having trouble focusing, so I decided to take a short break and head to our usual bar to see her.”

He swallowed hard, his posture sinking. The confident and assured man I knew my entire life was nowhere to be found.

“I’ll never forget the aching in my chest when I saw the flashing red and blue lights on the side of the road we all took to get to the bar. There was police tape roping off two mangled cars.”

I gasped, bringing my hand to my mouth.

“They said she died on impact,” he continued, his voice empty. “She didn’t feel a thing. The drunk prick who killed her only got two years for vehicular manslaughter and driving under the influence, even though he was operating under a suspended license and had a previous DUI. I never got to tell her how I felt and I’ve regretted that every day since then. Please, Baylee.” He clutched my hand. “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Tomorrow isn’t a guarantee. Reading your mother’s journal should have taught you that. Put it all on the line. Take a risk.”

His eyes met mine. For a brief instant, I believed I was speaking with my mother, staring into her eyes, as she gave me the motherly advice I had yearned for most of my life. Having spent the last several weeks channeling her spirit while I finished the list she was never able to made me feel closer to her than I imagined possible. Maybe my uncle was right. Maybe I needed to take a risk. It’s what my mother would have done.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-T
HREE

“E
ASIER
SAID
THAN
DONE
,” I whispered to myself. As I headed through the lobby of the hotel, I thought about my uncle’s story. Sure, our situations were similar. We both had an obstacle preventing us from being with the person we wanted, but there was a huge difference between violating a non-fraternization clause in an employee handbook and asking Sebby to choose me over somebody he had been seeing for years. The devil on my shoulder told me to go for it. The angel kept whispering “The other woman” in my ear. I couldn’t look beyond that.

I headed past the front desk and toward the entrance, stopping dead in my tracks when I saw Sebby walk through the revolving doors with Mercedes, cursing my horrible luck. Curious as to what they were doing here, I ducked behind a stone column in the lobby sitting area, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.

As they approached the bank of elevators, I strained to hear what they were saying, but the sound of all the voices reverberating against the marble drowned them out. I knew I should take the opportunity to make my escape without Sebby spotting me. That doesn’t mean I heeded my own advice, though. My curiosity got the better of me and, as stealthily as possible, I padded toward the bank of elevators, hiding behind a potted tree.

The irony was not lost on me.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come up?” Mercedes asked, and I straightened my spine. This was unusual. Why wasn’t she staying at Sebby’s? He had inferred she wasn’t a big fan of dogs. Maybe that was the reason she got a hotel room.

“I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I could picture the pout on her face, although the tree branches blocked my view. “Think you can get away from all your responsibilities to meet me tomorrow for dinner? Even a late one?”

“I think I can do that,” he replied after a short pause. There was a coyness in his tone I had never heard before. I slumped against the wall, consumed with the idea that the Sebby standing in the elevator vestibule was a different Sebby than the man I had fallen for over the past few months. When the dust settled, who was the real Sebby? “I’ll just make sure Sophia’s able to feed and walk Gidget.”

“I don’t even know why you have that dog,” she scoffed. “You can’t bring her to New York when you move.”

My heart fell.
Sebby’s moving?
I thought to myself. How could so much change in just twenty-four hours?

He ran his hand through his hair. “Mercedes…” I could hear his frustration and reluctance to discuss the topic further.

“You need to grow up and forget about your adolescent dream of producing for the NFL. That’s a bit of a step down, don’t you think?”

I wrinkled my nose and pinched my lips, scowling. I was starting to see a different side of Mercedes. This morning, she was friendly, but now that she thought they were alone, I saw the woman Sebby had described to me. After being in a relationship where my partner didn’t support my dreams, I could sympathize with Sebby’s situation. I was starting to like Mercedes less and less. She seemed to do all the tugging, and Sebby seemed to just give and give. I wondered how much longer it would be until he had nothing left to give and became a person I no longer recognized. A person
he
no longer recognized.

“I don’t want to talk about this today.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “But Mitchell needs an answer from you by the end of the month on whether you’re interested in the sitcom gig. He’s doing this as a favor to me.”

“I realize that.” There was a pause as an elevator arrived. “There’s just a few loose ends I need to tie up before I make my final decision.”

“Good.” Her voice was bright once more. “Pick me up at the gallery at eight.” She spun on her heels and disappeared into the elevator.

Dissecting the conversation, I momentarily forgot where I was and what I was doing. Instead of taking Mercedes’ departure as my cue to get out of there, I remained frozen in place, rooted to my perch. When Sebby started in my direction, I prayed to the gods of sleuthing that he wouldn’t see me.

As if on cue, my phone began to ring and I hastily tried to silence the unmistakable voice of Kenny Loggins, drawing attention to myself as I clumsily reached for it, causing the branches of the tree to move with me.

Sebby looked in the direction of the tree, his torn expression turning into a genuine smile, the tension in his body melting off him. As he came closer to me, I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath, as if that would prevent him from discovering me snooping on him and his girlfriend. There was nothing I could say that would explain my presence.

“Baylee?” I heard from behind as I kept my body turned in the direction of the elevators.

“Hmm? What?” I faced Sebby, making it appear as if he interrupted me doing something important.

Crossing his arms, he narrowed his eyes. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing with that tree?”

“Just making sure it doesn’t need any water.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He smirked, holding out his hand to help me up.

Grabbing onto it, I raised myself off the floor. “Well, this tree seems to be doing just fine.” I wavered on my feet. The combination of the drinks I had consumed earlier and the sudden movement made me unbalanced.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“My uncle’s in town and is staying here. We met up to have a few drinks.”

“I see.” He shuffled his feet, avoiding my eyes. A deafening silence settled between us, in stark contrast to the boisterous noise level in the lobby.

“Well, I should get going. Have a good night, Sebby.” I turned from him and headed out the doors, smiling at the valet who had been waiting with my car for God knows how long at this point.

“I’m not going to New York!” Sebby declared loudly, following me outside.

I placed my hand on the roof of my car, hesitating briefly. Do I get into my car, leaving our conversation at that? Was it really any of my concern whether or not he was moving to New York? We were neighbors. Only neighbors.

“It’s none of my business where you decide to live,” I said, facing him. “But you need to really consider everything, Sebby. You can do your job from anywhere. You’ve said so yourself. Mercedes can’t. If you really want things to work out between you two, don’t you think you at least owe it to her to try?”

He approached me, the heat coming off his body warming me in the chilly night air. He looked at me in that way I often imagined a man would, the way Cary Grant looked at Deborah Kerr in
An Affair to Remember
when he found out the truth of what happened to prevent her from meeting him at the top of the Empire State Building. Time stood still and I wanted to stay in that moment. A moment where I forgot his heart belonged to someone else. A moment where we could finally act on the attraction that had grown stronger and more magnetic with each morning coffee, each crazy adventure. A moment where I could finally say to hell with just being friends and know what it felt like to be loved by someone.