I stand up to reach Ryan’s eye-level, asking, “What’s his name?”
“Duke,” he answers, like he’d rather not tell me.
“Hey, Kara!” Jason is now wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he turns us around. Cristina glares at him from the couch and he nudges his chin in her direction, leaning in close to me. “Have you talked her off the ledge yet?”
“You need to tread lightly, my friend,” she snaps back at him. “I’m still not sure if I’m speaking to you. Kindly leave the room.”
“Guess not.” Jason pats the side of my arm and makes his way into the kitchen as Cristina turns back around in a huff, facing away. I’m drinking in the whole sorry scene with regret when a twisted idea comes to mind. An idea that can possibly save Cristina and my career in one fell swoop if I’m unhinged enough to do it. My eyes shift to Ryan, who is now retreating into Jason’s office as my inner confidence meets with riotous doubt and fear. Then I stop thinking altogether.
“Everyone,” I call out. “I have a thought. How about Ryan and Duke stay at my place until the wedding?”
A general silence falls over the room.
“Do you mean it?” Cristina asks, almost whispering.
“No,” Ryan answers quickly. “No, it’s all right. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” I assure him.
“Duke is a handful. I couldn’t put that on you.”
“I love dogs and my building is pet-friendly.”
Ryan stares daggers at me in a subtle kind of way and I smile sweetly back at him. He looks to Jason for help, who turns to me after some obvious internal debate.
“That’s nice of you, Kara, but don’t worry about it. Ryan and I are going to buy an inflatable bed to set up in the office for him and Duke.”
Cristina whips around on the couch to find Jason. “Say one more word and I will cut you.” She jerks back around to me. “Honestly, that would be the biggest help ever. We would have loved for Ryan to stay with us but we have so much on our plate with the wedding. Now you guys can really catch up and everyone wins.”
Everyone then turns to Ryan, who is solely focused on me. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
I nod and follow him as he steps to the windows on the far side of the room.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks once we’re out of earshot.
“I’m just trying to help Cristina. In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve escorted her right to the brink of a nervous breakdown.”
One look at Cristina’s hopeful eyes proves that I’m right. “We wouldn’t have been any trouble,” he says half-heartedly, knowing it isn’t true.
“This coming from the man who was just evicted from his hotel.” That earns me a flat glare. “What are you afraid of? Are you worried I’ll kill you in your sleep and empty your bank account?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“Well, you can rest easy because I have more important things to do. I have a deadline coming up and I’m going to be working around the clock.”
Ryan glances across the room to where Duke is making himself at home on the couch. Cristina is now following his path with a Dustbuster, vacuuming up any of his fur that clings to the fabric.
“So you really want to do this then?” he asks, turning back. “You don’t think the two of us sharing a space will be at all dangerous?”
“Dangerous for me or you?”
Ryan doesn’t answer right away. I know he’s trying to think of an alternative plan, but nothing comes to mind. This is happening.
“I guess we’ll find out, Sullivan,” he says. “You want me, you got me.”
There’s something final about his words that make me a little drunk with power. It’s like I’m possessed when I say, “Just like old times.”
Ryan’s eyes sear into mine. Apparently, my sass wasn’t appreciated.
Too bad.
I flash a quick smile and step around him to find Jason and Cristina.
“All right, so I’m on my way to Queens right now to have dinner with my mom and Jen, but I’ll be back in the city by eight. Ryan,” I say, turning to him, “you can head over around then. Cristina will give you my address and phone number.”
“Terrific,” he says unenthusiastically.
I give him a merry wave and head for the door. I’m halfway there when Cristina jumps in front of me.
“You are my hero,” she says in a hushed tone. “I worship the ground you walk on and you have my unwavering loyalty forever.”
Jason comes to stand beside her. “I think what she means to say is ‘thank you.’ And on a side note, if Ryan steps out of line, just give me a call. I’ll set him straight.”
“Thanks for the offer but I can handle him.” I look over my shoulder, feeling like I’m having a slight out-of-body experience and trying not to smirk. “See you later, Ryan.”
It takes twenty minutes on the Long Island Railroad to get from Penn Station to the Little Neck stop in my childhood neighborhood. From there, I walk six blocks past Laundromats, pizzerias, bagel shops—all the staples of Queens society.
I’m then at the house where I grew up—a brick three-bedroom with a small front yard. I walk up the cement stoop steps and automatically check the mailbox beside the door. There’s a fair amount of mail, the first of the pile being addressed to Tim Sullivan. My airways tighten a bit but I don’t mind. I like that he still gets mail.
As I go through the squeaky screen door and walk into the
