The way he shrugs and waves his hand tells me he doesn’t want to talk about it. Before I can say anything else, he urges me forward. “Come on. I didn’t bring you up here to watch me wallow. I can do that by myself.”
Beneath the pergola are a couple of old couches and a coffee table. We each take a couch, and he lays out our supplies before filling the glasses.
He still seems tense, so I try and lighten the mood. “I love milk, but a beer would have been better.”
“Not happening,” he says, as his mouth presses into a determined line. “You’re underage, young lady, and I refuse to further contribute to the corruption of a minor. Now, drink your milk like a good girl.” He gives me a half-smile.
“Yes, Granddad.”
We’re both quiet for a few moments as we munch on our cookies. When we’re done, he stands and gestures for me to follow. “Come on. I haven’t shown you the best part.” He leads me to the edge of the building and climbs up on the ledge.
“Is that safe?” I ask, trying to peer over. It’s at times like this I hate being a short-ass.
He offers me his hand. “Trust me.”
Strangely, I do, and when I put my hand in his, he pulls me up with so little effort, it’s surreal. For a moment I panic and grip his arms, but then I see that the ledge isn’t as narrow as it first seems. Also, there’s a fire escape right below us.
“Okay?” he asks, his hands firm on my waist.
“Uh-huh.”
“Then look up. The fire escape is cool and everything, but it’s not what I wanted you to see.”
When I raise my eyes, I see what he means. Across the street is a shiny new apartment complex. The entire lobby is covered in reflective glass, and through some miracle of technology, I can see the visual cacophony that is Times Square blinking up at us.
My mouth drops open. “What am I looking at?”
“Rear projection,” Liam says. “Incredible, right? Whoever designed the building realized that one of the huge draws of living in this area is the excitement of Times Square, so they incorporated it into the building’s design. It’s a live feed of what’s happening six blocks away.”
I’m floored at how spectacular the projection is. “Have you figured out where the camera is yet?”
“No, but I look for it every now and then. From the angle, I figure it’s on a light pole. Look, you can see the stairs where we met tonight.”
He’s right. The staircase is now teeming with people.
There’s an old adage that says no matter where you come from, if you stand in the middle of Times Square for fifteen minutes, you’ll see someone you know. I don’t know if it’s true, but I should try it one day. There’s nowhere on the planet quite like Times Square. The ambience, the energy, the connection to all things Broadway. I feel like it’s a part of me.
“I could watch this all night.”
“Then my evil plan to spend more time with you has succeeded. Excellent.” Liam sits on the ledge and urges me to follow. When we’re settled, our legs dangle over the edge and our thighs press against each other. It almost distracts me from the view.
Liam leans back on his hands. “This is why I spend so much time on the roof. I can sit up here and people-watch without having to leave my building. Cool, right?”
“Very cool.”
I envy Liam for living here, practically in the midst of it all. My parents’ brownstone up on Sixty-fourth Street suddenly seems light-years away. And boring as hell.
As if sensing what I’m thinking, Liam asks, “So where do you hail from, Elissa? Manhattan?”
“Yep. Upper East Side. Still living with my parents.”
“Of course you are. You’re a child.” I poke him with my elbow, and he laughs.
“If I get into The Grove, I’ll have to move to Westchester. Not gonna lie: I’m looking forward to getting out on my own. Well, I’d have to live with my big brother, but still . . .”
He’s silent for a moment, then says, “Westchester, huh? I guess it’s not that far away.” He says it so quietly, I don’t know if he’s talking to himself or me. “So your parents are still married?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mine, too. What are the odds? Out of everyone I know, I’m the only person whose parents aren’t divorced. Not only that, but my folks are still so in love, it’s embarrassing. Gives me hope that true love still exists, you know?”
“That’s a romantic sentiment from a man who’s just had his heart broken.”
He lets out a short laugh. “I’m hardly heartbroken. Don’t get me wrong, I liked Leanne, but I didn’t love her.”
“But, weren’t you with her for a year?”
“I was.”