December 21, 2010
Work ran late last night and Wallace had a date with Jackie, the customer he's been flirting with the past few days. So I didn't have a chance to check for the notebook until today. I'm expected to be back at the office in an hour, trying to earn some much needed money while classes are out. New York is expensive, and even with scholarships and my dad helping, I still need to earn as much as I can if I want to eat more than just ramen noodles.
I can't afford to be late, especially since I only got this job through one of my dad's friends. It's hard to find a job that will work with my schedule around school, but let me work extra hours during the break. It's an added bonus that it gives me an impressive addition to my resume for when I apply to law school.
Cliff McCormack was my dad's college roommate turned public defender. He paid me to mostly do filing and typing, but from time to time, he let me help on his cases, trying to find the angle that will help him get his clients out of whatever jam they find themselves in.
It's fascinating and I love working there. I've never been late, but I'm afraid to put off getting the notebook. I have no idea what Logan has in store for me today, but I'm quickly becoming addicted to having some small part of him each day.
I'm so focused on what I have to do today, I don't notice the man suddenly in my path, exiting an apartment building. We collide and arms come out to steady me before I can fall. I lift my head, the hood of my coat falling back, as I look up taking in shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes that crinkle as he smiles down at me. There's something familiar about him.
Before I can place him, he pulls me closer, engulfing me in a hug while I struggle to free myself. Panting with fear, I almost don't hear his words.
"Ronnie Mars. Of all the cities." No one has called me Ronnie in years, not since I lived in Neptune as a child. Even then, there was only one person who refused to use my proper name.
"Dick Casablancas. What are you doing here?" I stop struggling to get away from him. I look up into his face, changed yet somehow the same. He smiles broadly at me and I can't help the answering smile on my face. Dick was always a goofball, but a loveable one.
"I live here now. Going to school at NYU. What about you? I never thought I'd see you again." His words are accompanied by another tight hug as he pulls me closer. We were good friends when we were little, but I haven't thought about him or anyone else from Neptune in years. We moved when I was eleven and while I tried to keep in touch for a while it's hard to maintain a long distance friendship when you're that young.
"Dick, I'd love to catch up, but I'm already running late. Give me your number." I hand him my phone and he punches in his information. I send him a quick text so he has my information. Looking at the time on the phone, I realize that there's no way I'm going to have time to grab the notebook before work. Not unless I want today to be the first time I'm late.
I leave him with a promise to call him, but am stopped by the sound of his booming voice.
"Ronnie." He stands there, phone still in his hand, a surfer boy still somehow looking at home in the city.
I tilt my head, silently waiting for him to say something.
"You grew up hot, girl." I laugh, shaking my head at him before hurrying away.
It's disappointing to not be able to get the notebook before I arrive at work, but I console myself with the fact that I won't have time to brood on his words anyway. While everyone else is preparing to celebrate the holiday, crime doesn't take the day off and Cliff is busier than normal. I hear him arguing in his office with a client when I arrive. I throw my bag in a drawer, hanging my coat up on the coat rack before taking a seat at my desk.
Loretta Cancun exits Cliff's office, her face flushed in anger. She softens slightly when she sees me sitting there. Loretta is loud and brash, dressed in a tight gold lame dress that leaves very little to the imagination. For some reason, she's taken a liking to me during my time at the office. I can feel her perusal of my clothes, glancing down to look at my loose fitting sweater over a button up blouse and equally loose cords.
"Girl, when are you going to stop hiding in those frumpy clothes?" She means well, but she'll never understand.
"Not all of us can pull that off." I wave a hand at her ensemble, complete with gold stilettos. She smiles, the action removing the harsh edges of her face. Life has not been kind to Loretta, but she seems satisfied with the life she's chosen.
"Who are you trying to fool? I can see what's under there, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. You're young, you should be flaunting it while you've got it." Cliff comes out of his office shaking his head at our exchange.
"Loretta, weren't you leaving? Leave Veronica alone, she's got work to do and you need to come up with a better alibi if you want to avoid jail this time." Cliff winks at me. Loretta has a temper which is a job hazard when you're a stripper at a club downtown. I guess one of her clients got a little too handsy with her again, and now she was facing assault charges again.
Cliff isn't the world's best lawyer, often calling himself the bargain basement of lawyers, but underneath his cynical exterior, he has a soft spot for his clients and an intense desire to help those who need it. He doesn't judge, which is why people like Loretta keep coming back to him again and again.
He's like my father in that respect and I'm hit with a wave of sorrow. I miss dad so much. It's been a long time since he has been able to come out to visit me. I know I could have gone home, but the fear of running into Piz keeps me in New York. There are just too many painful reminders there. At least here, I can pretend everything is okay.
Loretta leaves after promising to hook me up if I ever wanted to let my hotness out and Cliff goes back to his office. I settle in to work, the hours flying by as I focus on the case research in front of me.
At five, Cliff interrupts my review of a case surrounding a messy divorce. My eyes are filled with tears, threatening to fall when I look up at him.
"Kid, you've got to not let yourself get emotionally involved in these things." His words are harsh, but his tone is soothing, spoken in his calm baritone. I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. My emotions aren't for the divorce so much. It's more the reminder of how love can fall apart, turning ugly in a moment. "It's after five, you should get out, live a little, go do something crazy."
Cliff is always pushing me to live a little. I don't know why everyone thinks I'm not living. I go out, I have friends. It's true, I'm not the same girl I once was, but does it really matter that I prefer to stick close to home these days, hiding in my baggy clothes? At this thought, I'm reminded of Logan's words hopefully waiting for me at Strand. They close early on Tuesdays so if I don't head out now, I may not get a chance to retrieve the notebook until tomorrow.
I gather my stuff, giving Cliff a wave as I leave the office. Wallace is just getting ready to close up for the night when I arrive. He lets me in with a quick hug. Foregoing chatting until I know if the notebook is there, I rush to the sci-fi section, Wallace close on my heels.
"Veronica." Wallace's voice is tight while I pull the precious notebook off the shelf.
"What? Did he say something?" Fear grips me. Maybe he's decided to stop. Is there a goodbye written? It shouldn't affect me so strongly, but I can't help it. In just a few days, Logan has become my lifeline. The light in the dark that my life has become. In this notebook, I can be myself without fear of judgement. It's safe and I need it.
Wallace shakes his head. "No, he didn't mention the notebook. I didn't even see him leave it." His eyes shift away, a tell that's he's not being completely honest. "I'm just worried how invested you're becoming with someone you've never even met. I'm just worried you're setting yourself up for a disappointment."
"Wallace, I appreciate your concern, but this is just some fun. I know that reality and the guy in my head might not match up. It just feels good to be trying again." He knows about Piz and the damage that whole situation did to my self-esteem. I know he's just looking out for me, but for reasons I can't explain, I know that Logan is different. "Speaking of trying, don't you have another date with Jackie?"
His face lights up with a smile at the mention of his new lady friend. "Yeah, I do, so you should skedaddle so I can finish closing up. I'll call you later."
I make my way back to the apartment, my steps slow, enjoying the feel of the city on the edge of Christmas.
Mac is still at work when I let myself in. After changing out of my work clothes, I fix myself a cup of hot chocolate, breathing in the heavenly scent as I curl up on the couch, the notebook in my lap.
Well, let's see what Logan has to say today. My eyes widen while I read. My heart breaks at the sadness in his words, wanting nothing more than to take away his pain. This isn't normal. How can a stranger's words invoke such strong feelings in me?
Wiping away an errant tear that escapes my eyes, I re-read the part about the quest he's set for me. A pang hits my heart as I consider singing again. I used to love it, but along with the loss of my mother, it was something that Piz didn't like. He always told me I was too pitchy.
Still, isn't the whole point of this to push myself, get past the image Piz pushed in my head of myself? I hesitate, thinking what to write. I don't think I can do it, even if a part of me is yearning to lose myself in the joy of singing. The thought of all those eyes on me, seeing me, judging me and finding me wanting has me pulling my sweater tighter around me.
My breathing is harsh and I have to remind myself that I'm alone. No one can see me.
Singing, really Logan? I don't think this is a quest I can take on.
You don't know what you're asking of me. Even alone in my apartment, the thought of all those people watching me is enough to send me into a panic.
I want to try, for you, for me, but I don't know if I can. I'm just so afraid.
But then you were so brave to tell me about your shadows, I feel I owe you something. I know if I don't do this, our game will end and right now that's the last thing I want. I haven't felt this close to another person in a very long time, and I don't want to lose this feeling.
I came to New York two years ago, after my first semester of college. They accepted me right out of high school, but like a lot of young girls, I based my decision of where to attend on a boy. My high school boyfriend was going to school in California, and I put off my dream of moving to New York to be with him. We had been together for over two years; I thought we were in love. It was all a lie, though.
Piz, that's his name, seemed like the nicest guy on the planet, but with time comes wisdom and now I can see him for who he was. A manipulative asshole who treated me badly and left scars I still don't know how to erase. I feel like he stole something from me. I don't feel comfortable in my own skin anymore.
I'm just a shadow hiding in baggy clothes.
Still want to get to know me? I'm not some strong, independent woman, I'm just a girl who followed a boy and got burned. Then I ran away and while my feet remain rooted in New York, I'm still running. Hiding because I don't want to know if what he said is true.
I'm only telling you this so you can understand why I can't possibly sing.
I'll understand if you don't want to keep going now. I hope you will because I like getting to know you. I feel a connection but I get that my neurosis might be more than you want to deal with.
I'll leave the book with your friend. If you want to continue this, then leave it back at Strand. Don't feel like you're obligated to continue because of my sob story. You may not be Prince Charming, but I'm not a princess in need of saving either.
A glance at the clock confirms that it's too late to venture back out into the city. Especially to go to Times Square. Instead, I snuggle in my bed with a good book and Logan's santa hat next to me.
Before I fall asleep, I think about all the times I went caroling before. Would it be worth a chance?