“Great. He can deal with Harmony.”
“I’d guess he’s bringing Natalie, dummy.”
I wrinkled my nose. “No way. This isn’t her scene.”
Lark shrugged. “It seems like it is. Jane is going, and they’re friends.”
Yeah, I was still confused on how that had happened. Natalie, who wanted to be as far from the Upper East Side as possible was now…entering my world of her own volition?
There was only one way to find out the answers to my questions. Only one way to stop whatever Lewis’s plan was. I had to go to the party. I had to fight for Natalie.
“Well,” I said, scanning the invitation once more, “looks like I’ll have to make an appearance.”
“That’s my boy. Back in the game.”
“And you’re coming with me to the party.”
“Oh, yeah, no, I’m busy tomorrow night.”
“No, you’re not. You’ve been sulking as bad as me since you and Thomas broke up. You shouldn’t be working twelve-hour days when you’re not even on campaign right now. Even my mother would agree with evenings off, Lark.”
“Ugh, I’m not getting out of this, am I?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Nope.”
“Guess I’ll have to go shopping.”
“Such a travesty,” I joked.
“Hey, I’m saving your ass. Save your snark for someone else.”
“Thanks, by the way,” I told her.
“Anytime.”
“Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m dying for that Thai place around the corner.”
Lark shot me an exasperated look. “Didn’t you hear that I’m busy, and now, I need a dress?”
“Yeah…who cares? You can wear whatever you want. It’s a Harmony party. Live a little.”
Lark threw a second pen at my face, smacking me in the nose that time. “You’re paying, Kensington.”
I just laughed and held the door open for her. “Obviously.”
Part III
Best-Laid Plans
Natalie
15
Despite the frigid temperatures, I decided to enjoy my walk across Central Park rather than take an overpriced cab to Lewis’s apartment. It was a breezy day, and I wished that I’d brought a hat with me. But we were heading out to a small house party later, and I didn’t want to fuck with my hair.
I ducked my chin to my chest against the wind as I navigated the park. It was surprisingly full for the weather. Likely, everyone else was more accustomed to this than I was.
As I came upon the stairs that led to Bethesda Fountain, I snapped a shot and sent it to Melanie to taunt her. She was in the middle of finals, and basketball season was about to start for the dance team. Of course, she’d made the team as a freshman.
Her response was almost instantaneous.
Bitch.
I laughed and shot back a response.
You could always apply to fashion school and move up here with me.
That’d be a dream, but I couldn’t leave Michael.
I rolled my eyes. Of course. Michael.
Besides Amy, that was the hardest part of leaving Charleston. I hated how Michael and Melanie were together. I’d hoped that I’d be able to convince her to dump him. But it had been a year, and they were still together.
I sighed and pocketed my phone once more. A problem for another day. I should be more worried about this party that I had agreed to go to. Lewis had insisted that it was going to be a chill thing and that the rest of the crew wouldn’t be there. Ease me back into society.
I’d agreed between kisses after we left Rockefeller earlier this week, and I was second-guessing myself. The only positive was that I was writing again. Thankfully, the city and Lewis’s presence had had a positive effect on my manuscript.
My fingers were half-frozen by the time I entered his building and took the elevator up to the top floor. Like most Manhattan penthouses, it opened up directly into the residence. A fact that I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to.
“Hello?” I called into the empty apartment.
“In the back,” I heard Lewis call out. “Make yourself at home.”
I stepped gingerly inside. I’d been here once before. The night that Penn had kissed his ex-girlfriend, Emily. It had all been orchestrated to cause havoc in our relationship, probably thanks to Katherine. But I hadn’t known that, and I’d had Lewis take me back to his place. I was here for an entirely different reason this time.
Lewis’s place was impeccable. All clean, sharp lines and carefully placed furniture. Art pieces that I knew Amy would covet hung on the walls, and a record player was playing a classical piece that I didn’t recognize. An impressive collection of records was on display on a bookshelf next to the player. There were literally hundreds from all different genres. I ran my fingers across them, picking out artists that I liked. Almost all mainstream pop or rock with a whole shelf of classical.
“You like vinyl?” Lewis asked.
I whipped around, and my mouth watered at the sight of him. He was in a blue button-up, half undone as if he had been in the middle of getting dressed when I entered.