Chapter 2 - NIGHT IN MANHATTAN
Chapter 2 - Night in Manhattan
Brooklyn Bridge
Vanessa's pov
The red dress has been hanging on her door. Vanessa had bought it when she went to the stall. It was too bright, bold, one that defined wealth. She had wanted to return but kept it until now. She finally understood why. She held it in front of the mirror and smiled at her own reflection in a way she rarely does. The apartment was cool, thin walls and windows that rattled whenever the breeze from the bridge blew. The furniture was old. It had lived for several years.
She dressed quickly in excitement. Outside, the Bronx had its familiar rhythm of distant music and rumble from trains.
‘Her boss’, she thought and laughed softly to herself. Is that what he still is? She wasn't sure and that terrified her.
The taxi crossed the bridge. Vanessa watched the city through the window, folding her hands in her lap. The restaurant was just across the bridge - warm and radiant, one which whispered its presence rather than announce it. She took a breath before pushing through the door.
He was already there.
Leonard sat across a table, in a dark suit, sitting at ease in a room full of people who clearly knew him. He spotted her the moment she walked in. He stood up before she reached the table, and when she was close enough,his hands reached for hers and looked at her in a way an employer shouldn't look at the employee.
“You look like a goddess tonight”
Vanessa felt herself rise within. ‘Thank you’, she said.
They sat. The room around them settled. The candlelights,the conversation from other people and the slow music. Leonard raised his hands and a waiter appeared immediately , leaning forward as Leonard murmured something before he slipped away quietly.
“You are well known here”, Vanessa said with a steady voice.
“I come here when I need to think”. He looked at her. “It's more quiet than the office”.
A bottle of champagne arrived and Leonard poured it without any celebration. He lifted his glass to a toast and she did same as they drank. For a moment,none spoke. The candle between them burned low.
Leonard set his glass down and looked at her with focused attention. She knew he was about to say something real.
“Vanessa Cole”. He called her full name. “ Tell me about your world”.
She hadn't expected it. She felt the instinct to deflect, make her small but she let it pass.
I come from the side of life that the wealthy never see," she said quietly. "Cracked pavements, thin walls, and laughter that echoes through it all. We didn't have much,but happiness was never something we lacked.”
Leonard was quiet for a minute and didn't move his eyes from her face. That was the most honest thing anyone has said to him in a long time. His hands reached across the table and touched her hands. It was warm. ‘i wanted to know you more’, he said.
The music became slow and that shitfed into the hearts, not just the ears. A few couples had moved to the dance floor, close to the musician.
Leonard stood.
“Dance with me”. He held out his hand patiently; giving her the choice even as his eyes told her everything he wasn't saying yet.
Vanessa looked at his hands and placed hers gently.
They moved gently, the way the music gave direction. His hands were warm on her waist. Everything inside the room seemed to slow and soft to her.
She didn't think about the office,or his mother, neither her bucket or the distance she had been maintaining for weeks. She thought nothing at all.
At some point, their eyes met and stayed. No performance. Just two people standing very close in a candlelit room, finally admitting without a single word, what had been true for longer than either of them had allowed.
His forehead rested against hers.
Later, the lights in Manhattan glittered through the hotel windows. Vanessa stood at the glass for a moment. She could feel Leonard's presence behind her. She turned from the window. The room was quiet - one which earned itself.
Vanessa lay in the dark. She felt something which she hadn't in a long time.
She turned to look at Leonard beside her. His eyes were fixed to the ceiling and his arms folded behind his back. As if her gaze signaled to him to look at her.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them needed them to.
