You Can Have Manhattan Read online P. Dangelico

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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“Not anybody sober…or with twenty-twenty vision.”

I received three blank stares in return. Then, “Oh, I get it. No, but really––” he started again with boldness only a barely legal and, frankly, stupid man could possess. One look at my demeanor and anyone could tell I was in no mood for him to get his flirt on. In fact, I was seconds from texting Laurel and telling her I had to bail for obvious reasons.

“Cody, is it?” I turned to face him. “I’m flattered. But I’m here to meet my girlfriend for a drink. I’m not here for a hookup.”

“You’re gay?” he said with the most tragic expression.

Blink. Blink. Blink. “Yes, Cody. I’m gay.”

“You haven’t called me back.” The voice coming from over my right shoulder was much deeper and much huskier than Cody’s.

My entire body tensed. This was reason number two I hadn’t wanted to go out. I spared him the briefest of glances.

“That’s generally what happens when someone doesn’t want to speak to you. Laurel will be here any minute.”

“Laurel’s not coming.”

Great. A setup. I was going to kill her.

“I thought you said you were gay?” Cody chimed in.

“Bi. Move along now, Cody and Cody’s friends. Trust me, you want no part of this.”

“But––”

Scott’s scowl rounded on Cody. “Are you as stupid as you appear or just hard of hearing? Fuck off, kid.”

Cody puffed himself up and squared his shoulders. He was tall and skinny. As tall as Scott minus approximately thirty pounds of muscle. “Who the fuck you calling kid, dude?”

“Okay guys, c’mon,” Tony finally spoke up.

“Enough,” I added, slid off the barstool, and got between the two. “Scott, let’s go.” I grabbed his wrist and he came willingly as I dragged him away toward the exit. It didn’t stop him from keeping his narrowed threatening gaze on the boys.

Outside the warm air blew my hair back, the cloudless night sky glistening with stars. We walked in silence toward my townhouse. When we finally reached my address, I stopped and faced him. Despite that he’d lost a few pounds and dark shadows hung under his eyes, he was so handsome it made me ache.

“Whatever you came to say. We can say it out here.”

He nodded in understanding, but no less dejected.

“I’ve done a lot I’m not proud of, but you...this...this marriage, being your husband…It’s the only wrong thing I’ve ever done right. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I was the lucky one.”

Pulling out a thick white envelope, he handed it to me, and as I stared at it sitting in my hand, he said, “Divorce papers. I made a few changes, but it’s all there…what you wanted.”

I glanced up and found his face turned away, his profile hard, and the sharp line of his jaw clenched tightly.

“I’m leaving.” His voice was as rough as sandpaper, the words practically forced out. “I know you’re not happy I’m here so I’m going back to New York…giving you some space––”

My chest ached like my heart was breaking all over again, tears threatening to make a scene.

“––I love you and I’m in love with you. I don’t even know if I can fix all the shit I’ve done, if you can ever forgive me––that’s for you to decide. But…but I’ll wait for you. Doesn’t matter how long––I’ll wait. Doesn’t matter where––I’ll find you. Just say the word and I’ll be there…That’s all I came to say––that and goodbye.”

His eyes finally met mine, packed with so much love and longing they were near bursting with it. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine, a brief tender brush of the lips I’d come to know so well before he pulled away and cast those eyes in the direction of his truck.

“Take care of yourself.”

Then he walked away, crossed the street, got in his truck without looking back, and drove off. All the while I remained perfectly still on the sidewalk in front of my townhouse letting the tears I didn’t want him to see slide down my face.

Hands trembling, I opened the envelope and recognized the hard slashes of Scott’s signature. I was officially divorced. Then I recognized something else, a handwritten letter attached.

* * *

You were right. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I should’ve trusted you not to hurt me and I didn’t. All I can do now is apologize and tell you that I do. With everything. Even my heart.

I love you, Sunshine.

Yours.

S

I unfolded another document. He’d signed over to me all his shares of Blackstone Holdings.

One of the most important aspects of the art of negotiating a deal is something which, in my opinion, can’t be taught. Something that operates on instinct but can be improved upon with effort. And that’s timing. When to pause and when to push. When to chase after something you want with abandon, and when to retreat. When not to let it slip through your fingers because you hesitated.



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