JENNIE

I turned immediately after I walked through the doorway so I could see Lisa's reaction. I know that she hasn't been up here in years. Hardly anyone has. All the furniture and most of the lighting from the bar were removed eons ago. All that's left is a simple white string of lights strung over a fake tree of some sort that the bar owner's left behind. I added two mismatched chairs that I found on the sidewalk next to a mountain of trash bags last year. Neither of them is in good shape, but they beat sitting on the concrete staring up at the stars.

"What the hell?" she whispers under her breath. "Is this the same place?"

No one would ever know that at one time New Yorkers came up here to unwind. Relationships began and ended on this rooftop over a glass of wine. People met, left together and fucked in the hotel a block over before ending their nights with an awkward goodbye and the understanding that they'd never see each other again.

The same thing happens at every bar on this island.

"It feels even more like it's the top of the world now." I stare out at the expansive views of the city. "I come up here sometimes to think."

She nods silently like she understands exactly what I'm talking about. I know that she does. She's the one who brought me here to begin with. She poured me a quarter of a glass of beer and as she finished off the bottle, she gazed at the Brooklyn Bridge that night.

I let her believe it was my first taste of beer. It wasn't. I'd snuck a bottle that belonged to my dad from the fridge when I was barely fourteen. I took a sip before I washed the rest of the expensive imported beer down the kitchen drain as our housekeepers giggled.

Lisa didn't need to know that. When she poured me that beer, she thought she was giving me my first taste of something forbidden. I did want a taste of something off-limits that night; her lips.

"The city hasn't changed that much since I brought you here the first time." She sucks in a deep breath, "You've changed, but the city always stays the same."

She's wrong. The city has changed just as much as I have. It's not only the sky high towers that developers are building to draw the millions that foreign investors are looking to sink into the city. It's much more than that.

People don't stop to talk to their neighbors the way they used to. Familiar faces you could always count on to be there have disappeared and the dream to make a mark on this tarnished, imperfect paradise is getting farther and farther out of reach.

"I grew up, Lisa," I point out studying her profile as she gazes toward Brooklyn the way she did the first time we stood up here together. "I'm not the girl you once knew."

She swallows hard, her throat working on the motion. It's sexy for some reason only my body knows. It's reacting. I don't want it to, but I can't help myself. I haven't stopped thinking about what happened back at Easton's Pub.

How can a kiss shared with someone you hate feel so good?

"You don't have to tell me that," she says quietly. "When I saw you at the gym I couldn't believe my eyes."

I couldn't either. When I spotted her I was struck by a wave of something so intense that I could only push it into the cluster of hate that I've been carrying in my heart for years. It didn't fit there though. It was so much stronger than that. Desire and need, reckless want.

"I called your brother after I saw you. I wanted Jack to tell me that you were happy."

Jack wouldn't know happiness if it slapped him across the face. He's treading water in a relationship with a woman he thinks is perfect for him. She is, on paper. She doesn't challenge him or excite him. I see it whenever I'm in the same room with him and Niki.

"What did he say?"

She turns and stares at me. "He told me that you dumped that tool you were engaged to. I assume that made you happy."

It did and it didn't. I broke up with Lucas, my fiancé, the day before I was set to walk down the aisle. I couldn't commit to a lifetime of uninspired love and mediocre sex. I know now that I hooked up with him to try and drown out the pain I was feeling over my grandma's death. I was using him as a bridge to the other side of my grief.

When I called to tell him that I wanted to see him so we could talk things over, he already knew. I think he was relieved to hear me say that I didn't love him enough to marry him. He's engaged now to a woman he adores. I saw it for myself when I ran into them last month uptown.

"He wasn't right for me." Talking about Lucas is always hard, even though I know ending our relationship was necessary. My parents saw it differently, shaming me for the expensive dress, venue and gourmet dinner for two hundred guests they'd already paid for.

I didn't let it go to waste.

I told the caterers to take the food to a charity that houses the families of ill children. They held a celebratory dinner that night, complete with the wedding cake that I was supposed to cut with my new husband.

I donated the dress, shipped my engagement ring back to Lucas and told my brother to take Niki to Paris, on what would have been my honeymoon. Jack focused some of his time during the trip on scouting locations for the Kim Hotel that will open in France next year.

I paid my parents back every cent they'd invested into my non-wedding. I didn't want the constant reminders that I'd let them down so I evened the score and they dropped the topic.

"You're not seeing anyone now, are you?" Her brows draw together.

How the hell is that her business? I'm still mad at her. I haven't forgiven her because her kiss made me forget my own name.

I have every intention of confronting her about the brownstone. I never toured the property when it was for sale. The only images viewable online were two of the red-bricked exterior. I thought about asking my agent to call the listing broker to arrange a private showing but I didn't see the point. To me it would have only been wasting precious time. I wanted it so I made the offer as quickly as I could.

Lisa is my chance to get inside it now. I do want to see the rooms my grandma talked about. It seems fitting to call her out on the house she took from me, inside its walls. It may be bittersweet but I know I'll finally feel a sense of vindication. If I have to play nice tonight to make that happen, I can do it. I know I'll be stronger tomorrow when the kiss and the conversation we had at Easton Pub have both lost their edge.

I clear my throat to tell her that my dating status isn't her concern when her phone rings.

She tugs it from the front pocket of her jeans. "I usually mute this fucking thing before I go to bed at eight."

"You go to bed at eight?" I glance down at the silver watch on my wrist. "It's past your beddy-bye time. I should tell your mom you broke curfew."

She laughs at the reference to the words she used to say to me when I'd skip my midnight curfew to hang out with my friends. Jackson would always be the one who'd track me down and order me home before my parents realized I wasn't in my bedroom. All too often, Lisa would still be at our house when I finally walked through the door.

"Dammit," she mutters under her breath. "I need to take this."

I nod before turning to the view of Brooklyn. I can't make out anything she says. It shouldn't matter to me if she's talking to another woman but it does. It niggles at me in a way I don't want it to. I've gone from outright hating her a few hours ago to tolerating her.

In an alternate universe we may have had a chance for something more but nothing can ever happen between the two of us. I let my grandma down because of her. Grandma was one of the few people in my life who believed in me and I didn't pull through when she needed me to.

"Jennie." Her hand lightly brushes my shoulder. "I need to go down to the studio. They're prepping Senator Carney for an interview tonight. I'm the girl he wants to sit across from him."

I turn and look up at her. "His son killed a woman in cold blood."

"The fucker did." She nods slowly. "The senator bought his son's freedom and I'm going to do everything in my power to get him to admit to that."

Lisa's known for her hard edge. She pushes the people she interviews. If I was going to admire one thing about her, that might be it. The way she looks in a black T-shirt with the wind gently blowing her air might be another.

Get a grip, Jennie. Jesus.

"I'll see you at your place tomorrow night." I take a step back, so she doesn't make the assumption that my lips are looking for any goodbye action.

"I'll text you my address." Her gaze drops to her phone at the sound of a chime. "Shit. My driver's downstairs waiting. I need to go before the Senator changes his mind."

"Go." I wave my hand as if I'm showing her the direction of the door. "I know where you live."

"You do?" Her lips hint at a smile. "How? Have you been following me?"

Biggest ego in Manhattan.

"Don't flatter yourself," I say tightly, not wanting to feed it anymore. The fact that she even has to ask how I know her address irks the hell out of me. Obviously, my pleas to put in a good word with her former fuck buddy, Sigrid, so I could buy the brownstone were so inconsequential to her that she's completely forgotten them. I've been stewing over this for years and it feels like she's left it all behind her. "I saw you going into your building with grocery bags when I was in the neighborhood for work one day."

The work part is a tiny lie, although I did give my business card to Lisa's white-suited neighbor. I have a feeling his townhouse may be a blank canvas, so it didn't hurt to offer up my services in case he ever needs a splash of color.

"You should have said hi."

"I'll come by before your curfew." I look at my watch, ignoring her comment. "Say around six?"

Her phone chimes again. She mutters a chorus of curse words before she turns toward the door calling back to me. "I have a feeling tomorrow night is going to be one for the record books."

"Oh, it will," I whisper as I watch her disappear behind the door. "It's going to be a night neither of us will ever forget. Until tomorrow, jerk."