Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

“Cathy made me promise I’d take you,” I said. “She had a whole plan to keep it from Charles and Tiffany, just so I could make sure you were okay—and show you a good time.”

Lake looked at the table. I didn’t want to make things harder on her, but we needed one-on-one time. If I had to play the Mom card, I would.

“Let me get you a cab, Manning,” Corbin said, calling us to the front of the restaurant. “Hailing one is kind of an art.”

Lake got up, so I followed. As we made our way outside, I lowered my voice. “I’ll pick you up at six. Unless you want dinner before rather than after.”

Lake met eyes with Corbin. “Will you get my coat from the check?” she asked him.

“Of course.”

As soon as he left, she turned her eyes on me. “I thought it was just a show.”

“You need to eat, don’t you? It would mean a lot to Cathy. She wonders all the time about how you’re eating.” I held open the door for Lake, but she only eyed me, skeptical. “One Sunday night, I found your mom crying into a roast. She worries nobody’s cooking for you. She worries a lot, Lake, and . . .” Corbin was headed back our way. “So do I. I need this, too. A few uninterrupted hours with you.”

Lake shot a glance in Corbin’s direction and lowered her voice. “Okay, fine.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m—it’s for my mom, all right? Don’t mention it to Corbin.”

I guessed maybe her boyfriend wouldn’t be too happy about our date tonight. That was fine by me. A weight lifted from my shoulders knowing I’d see her later. I was going to be late for golf, but it was worth it.

Outside, I took my Nokia from my suit pocket so I could call the client once I was in a cab.

“You have a cell phone?” Lake asked.

I gave it to her. I liked watching her turn it over in her hands. I didn’t have to ask if she owned one—they were expensive, and I only had it for work.

“It looks like Corbin’s,” she said with a smirk, handing it back to me. Although I hated hearing his name from her mouth, her sudden attitude was kind of cute. Very cute, actually. I was so engrossed with her that I didn’t hear a car pull up.

Lake looked behind me. “You’re taking a taxi all the way to Manhasset?” she asked. “How much does my dad pay you?”

I turned around. Corbin had already flagged down a cab. “Thoughtful of him,” I uttered. I couldn’t be too upset—I’d get Lake all to myself tonight—so I smiled and thanked him.

“No problem,” he said. “Hope you have a nice stay. I’ll keep trying to get Lake to come home with me for the holidays. Maybe next year.”

Lake blew hot air into her fists, and I wondered why she wasn’t wearing gloves. “Even if I were welcome,” she said, “I wouldn’t go.”

“You know you are,” he said. “Charles just needs some—”

“Corbin,” Lake gave him a look that’d shut me right up, “don’t.”

“All right.” He held up a hand to wave at me. “See you around, man.”

I hoped not, but in a few hours, Lake would be all mine. “Six o’clock,” I mouthed at her before forcing myself into the taxi.

4

Lake

At five in the evening, I stood on the balls of my feet in front of the bathroom mirror, doing my best to admire my floor-length, strappy black velvet Calvin Klein dress. I’d bought it secondhand under Val’s guidance last fall but hadn’t yet worn it. My first thought as I’d slipped it over my head was that Tiffany would say it was old and “so over.” I didn’t own many nice things, though. I’d left most of my clothing in California. Moving across country with two suitcases had been hard to do, but I’d also needed to shed that old life. Start over. Now, I didn’t have much. Corbin made good money even though he’d only held a paid position at his company a year, but it didn’t feel right when he tried to take me shopping. He always overspent. The two nice dresses I owned were gifts from him he hadn’t let me refuse. Tonight, I wanted to wear something I’d bought myself, even if it wasn’t new, even if it was a bit too fancy for where we were headed.

When the front door opened, I poked my head out of the bathroom, half-expecting Manning to have broken in again, but it was Val. My best friend and roommate hurried into the living room, her spiral curls bouncing around her ears in the odd, grow-out stage of a “do-not-mention” haircut. Since Felicity had aired on the WB a year earlier, Val had consistently been mistaken for the TV show’s star, Keri Russell. But Val needed to be her own person, so in an act of rebellion, she’d chopped off her beautiful, blonde ringlets over the summer. And then Felicity had debuted the same haircut in October. Now, not only did Val look even more like Felicity, but people thought she’d copied the show, which really got Val going.