The driver opens the door and I step out onto the street, offering him what I assume is a reasonable tip. Then I turn and take in the building that Alex calls home. It’s a redbrick apartment block in the West Village, with a black fire escape zig-zagging up the front. This street is lined with trees, and with October’s arrival some of the leaves are changing color. Stone steps lead up from the footpath (or “sidewalk” as they say here, must remember that) to an arched doorway where Alex stands, clasping her hands together in excitement.
I grin, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. I can see why Alex likes it so much here. I feel like I’m stepping onto a movie set.
“Harriet!” she squeals as I climb the steps.
“Hi!” I shiver in the cold night air, wishing I had at least brought a jacket in my handbag.
Alex tugs me into her arms and squeezes. Tears prick my eyes and I blink them away, squeezing her back. What an overwhelming few days it’s been.
She releases me with a smile, then freezes. “Wait. Where’s your suitcase?”
“Oh.” My gut pitches but I force myself to be nonchalant. “It got lost.”
“What?” Her face creases in concern. “Did you talk to them at the desk? Because—”
“Yep. I just have to wait.”
“Ugh. That sucks.” She links her arm through mine and pulls the front door open, leading me into the lobby. “You’ll have to borrow some of my stuff. Or we could go shopping!” She does an excited hop and it makes me giggle.
We pause halfway across the lobby and Alex points to an apartment door. “That was my apartment with Cat when I first moved here, but she lives with Myles now. You’ll meet her tomorrow. I’m upstairs, with Michael and Henry.” She pulls me along again and we start up the stairs to the second level.
“Thanks for waiting up for me,” I say, stifling a yawn.
“Of course! I couldn’t wait to see you. But Michael’s gone to bed, sorry. He has an early meeting with his agent tomorrow so we have to be quiet.”
She opens the door to the apartment and leads me inside. It’s warm, and the first thing I notice are the bookshelves lining the far walls of the living room. As soon as I’m rested I know I’ll be browsing them. The walls are dark red, and there’s a tan leather sofa in the middle of the room, worn in that comfy way that only leather can be. Off to the left is a desk strewn with papers and a hallway. To the right there’s a small wooden dining table, which leads around a corner to the kitchen.
“This is lovely,” I say. “Very cozy.”
Alex beams. “Thanks. You’ll be staying in Henry’s room. I hope that’s okay?”
“Of course.” I’m grateful to be staying with them and not at a big, impersonal hotel, but I do feel a bit bad that Alex’s soon-to-be stepson won’t get to sleep in his own bed. “What about Henry?”
“He’s with his mom while you’re here,” she says, and I hear the faintest American accent creeping into her voice, especially on the word “mom,” which I didn’t notice over the phone. “Unfortunately, you’ll meet her at some stage, too.”
Alex has mentioned once or twice how much she dislikes Michael’s ex, Mel, and I can’t say I’m looking forward to meeting her. I guess that’s the problem when your guy has a kid with someone else: there’s no way to avoid the ex.
Alex heads down the hallway and I follow, into a room filled withStar Warsposters and toys. She gestures to a stuffed Yoda in one corner. “Sorry about the decor.”
“Well, it’s a lot nicer than the swamps of Dagobah,” I joke, and she gives me a funny look.
“What?”
I put on my best Yoda voice. “Much to learn, you still have.”
I expect Alex to roll her eyes, but she grins. “I’ve missed you. You’re going to get on so well with Henry.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” I say, turning to the bed. It’s made with fresh sheets and there are towels folded on the end.
“Yeah, he’s really sweet. You guys can geek out overStar Warstogether.” She glances at my bag, then at the bed, before turning to the door. “I’ll grab you some PJs.”
“Thanks.” I sit on the edge of the bed, letting my eyes wander around the room. They land on a framed art print of the Millennium Falcon hanging on the opposite wall. I inspect the round curve of the ship, thinking of the sliver of Luke’s tattoo I saw. I don’t know why I make that connection. It’s a similar shape, sure, but I highly doubt he has Han Solo’s spaceship tattooed on his arm—as awesome as that would be.
Alex enters the room. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, okay? I can show you some of my favorite stores.” She hands me a pair of pajamas and pulls me into another hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I smile, surprised to realize I mean it.
We say goodnight and Alex heads off to bed. I try to unpack the whirlwind of emotions I’m feeling as I change into the pajamas. Now that I’m finally here, alone in the silence of Henry’s room with my thoughts, everything is catching up with me. I’m anxious at not having my suitcase, but my mind keeps coming back to Luke. Memories from the plane flash through my head and my cheeks flush as I think about his kiss, his body against me, his hot breath on my ear. God, that was so hot—hewas so hot. I wouldn’t have minded seeing him again, but his note said things were complicated with him. Whatever that means.
