Return to Me Read online

  "Need some help?" the handsome stranger said.

  God he's gorgeous was her first thought. Even wearing loose-fitting grey workout pants, a long-sleeved black tee and black cross-trainers, you could see he was fit. The workout bag thrown diagonally across his shoulder signified he was serious about his workouts.

  Anybody who toted gear to the gym tended to be pretty serious about their workout. And it showed.

  "Ah, I think I got it figured out," Brooke responded. "But thanks."

  "Are you sure?" he said. "The subways can be confusing, but once you know the secret, it's actually pretty easy."

  "The secret?"

  "Yeah, there's a secret that makes all those lines on that map make sense," he said.

  "Really?" she said, cocking one eyebrow.

  "Yep. I kid you not."

  Zeke had noticed the petite young woman earlier. She seemed young, but there was a confidence there that belied those years. He'd estimated her to be no more than 20 or 21, a bit young for him, at 29. In spite of this, he was drawn to her.

  Remembering her youth though, he'd gone to the other side of the gym, lest he be tempted to somehow find a way to talk to her.

  He was relieved when he looked up some 20 minutes later and found her gone. He rarely worked out in the evenings, preferring to do so in the mornings – which actually suited his schedule just fine because that's when most of his clients scheduled their workout sessions with him.

  Zeke had never seen her before, so hoped evenings were her regular workout time. This way, he'd have little to no fear of running into her again.

  Pulling his gym bag over his shoulder, he zipped his light jacket up in the cool air of the early fall night. He loved this time of year.

  About half way the block, he spotted the beautiful young woman. Her brow was furrowed as she leaned against the side of a building, trying to make sense of something in her hand. As he got closer, he recognized it as a New York City subway map.

  Remembering when he'd first moved to the city how confusing the NYC subway system could be, he'd found it impossible not to stop and ask if she needed some help deciphering it.

  "So do I get to know what the secret is?" she was saying.

  "Well, I'll be happy to tell you … under one condition?"

  "And just what would that be?" she asked suspiciously, unable to keep a smile from spreading across her face. I can't believe he's flirting with ME!

  "Well, it's an intense lesson. And, it can't be done standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk. I'll need your complete attention," he carried on. "I was on my way to the juice bar around the corner. How about joining me, and we can sit down and I can explain it to you?"

  Putting her right index finger in the slight dent in the middle of her chin, Brooke pretended to ponder his offer.

  "Well … I do want to know the secret. But then again, you are a stranger …," she let her voice trail off, as if deep in thought.

  Countering, he responded, "Well … I can remedy that. I'm Zeke. Zeke Laird Granger. from South Beach Miami. My mother's name is Pearl Granger, and my father was Ezekiel Laird Granger. And no, I'm not a second or a Junior. My father hated the name Ezekiel, so they named me Zeke, which everyone called him."

  "Is that enough information to at least get us past the stranger threshold?" he finished.

  Barely able to contain a delighted giggle, Brooke squinted at him as if to size him up properly, then said, "Well as we're only going around the corner, right, I guess that'll do."

  Zeke extended his hand. "It's a real pleasure to meet you Miss … ah …" he stopped.

  In her excitement, Brooke forgot her manners. "Oh, I’m Brooke. Brooke Lakelyn Tobias." She never knew what made her give him her full name. Only her family knew it. But there was something about this sinfully handsome man that made her an open book.

  Those green eyes could pry God's secrets from Mother Teresa, Brooke thought. Telling him her full name was the least of what she wanted to reveal to this gorgeous creature.

  . . .

  "So is the secret forthcoming?" Brooke teased as Zeke sat down at the small round corner table they'd managed to snag in the popular little juice bar.

  The place was tiny for a commercial enterprise -- only 500 or 600 square feet. But, it was packed. There always seemed to be five or six people waiting to be served.

  Zeke had told her to hurry and scoot into the seat at a table that opened up just as they walked in, and he'd go get them something to drink.

  "One Strawberry Lemonade Squeeze coming up," he said on his way to get in line.

  "Thanks," she said as he came back to the table some five minutes later and handed her the drink.

  As he positioned his tall frame in the little chair, his knees brushed against hers under the table."

  "Sorry," he said. "It's kinda tight in here."

  "That's ok," Brooke responded, taking a sip of her cool drink to ease the warmth she felt from his slight touch.

  She'd never had an instant spark like that from such incidental contact with a man.

  Lord Jesus, if this is what he does to me with an unintentional touch, what would it feel like to have him touch me on purpose? Brooke thought, hoping with every fiber of her being that she wasn't betraying any of her feelings.

  But she wasn't that good of an actress. Zeke noticed the range of emotions that played out on her beautifully expressive face. Although he didn't flaunt his looks or his body, he was well aware of when a woman found him attractive.

  As a personal trainer whose job it was to get up close and personal with clients, he was very aware of when a woman looked at him with one thing on her mind.

  He'd had to let a number of clients go for wanting to take the relationship beyond the "Trainer/Client" boundary, which is something he never did.

  In spite of how densely packed New York City was, there was a small community of elite trainers like himself. He liked keeping that professional line in place. Besides, he never wanted for female company when he chose to have it.

  The last couple of years, he'd more often chosen not to, for reasons he'd never shared with anybody.

  "Soooooo, Mr. Granger, if you don't spill the secret of decoding the New York City subway map soon, I'm going to start thinking that you brought me here under false pretenses," Brooke said, trying to dismiss the feeling of the spot on her knee he'd accidentally bumped under the table minutes ago.

  "Well Ms. Tobias, I don’t want you to doubt anything I ever say to you, so I best get to explaining, now haven't I?"

  "Give me your map."

  Brooke dug the map out of the leather bag she had thrown over her shoulder.

  Zeke spread it out on the little table between them and said, "See the different colors? The numbers 1, 2 and 3 trains are in red, right?"

  "Uh-hum," Brooke said, sipping on her drink.

  "And the numbers 4, 5, and 6 trains are in green, right?"

  "Uh-hum," Brooke agreed again, bobbing her head.

  "Well, each color can be thought of as an avenue. For example, red is 7th Avenue, because the number 1, 2 and 3 trains are 7th Avenue lines."

  "Green is an east side train, running along Lexington Avenue – at least in the city. It's really the only train that runs on the East Side. The West Side has several. For example, the A, C, E line run along 8th Avenue. The B, D, Q trains run on 6th Avenue."

  "Oh, I get it," said Brooke. So once I know which avenue a train runs along, then all I have to do is think about street numbers, not which part of town I'll be dumped in when or if I get off at the wrong stop?"

  "Exactly," said Zeke. "So, if you took the #2 train to 34th Street, where will you be when you get off?"

  "34th Street and 7th Avenue," replied Brooke.

  "Right. Actually right on the same block as Macy's. See, told you it was easy," Zeke said.

  "Wow, that IS easy. I was always so confused, worrying that if I didn't get off at my exact stop, I'd be lost when I got off the train."

&
nbsp; "Well, now you know … at least how to easily navigate Manhattan."

  "Well, as I live in Manhattan, that covers about ninety-nine percent of my travel in the city. I have some friends who live in Brooklyn and Queens, but usually I'm with them when we take the train to their place, or I take a cab."

  "So, where do you live in Manhattan?"

  "On 54th, between 8th and 9th Avenues?" she replied.

  "You're less than 20 blocks from where I am. I'm on 38th, between 9th and 10th. … I usually walk home, especially in weather like this. I love briskness of the fall air."

  They'd taken their time, walking the two-plus miles to her apartment. She'd protested when they came to his street, which they passed first, telling Zeke that she'd be fine walking the 16 blocks to her apartment alone. But, he wouldn't hear of it.

  "I'd really like to see you again, Brooke," Zeke said as they stood in front of the brownstone where her apartment was located.

  "I'd like that a lot," Brooke said.

  After they exchanged numbers, Zeke pulled Brooke into his arms, lowered his head and went in for what he meant to be just a good night peck on the lips.

  One taste of the fruity, cold drink on her warm, soft lips and neither of them were capable of pulling back.

  Standing almost a foot taller than her, Brooke stood on tip-toe, wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his ardor, kiss for passionate kiss.

  Zeke groaned, pulled her to him, locked his arms in the center of her back and almost lifted her feather-light frame off the ground.

  A couple of giggling teenagers penetrated his heated mind. He slowly pulled back from Brooke.

  Where the hell had that come from? he scolded himself. He hadn't meant to ravish her on the street like that.

  "I'm sorry …" penetrated Brooke's fiery being. She recoiled instantly, totally embarrassed.

  Dear Lord, I hope he doesn't think I behave like this with every man?

  "No need to apologize," she was saying, as she lowered her head and dug for her keys in her bag to keep from having to look at him.

  Hurt that she'd pulled away from him so quickly, Zeke put his forefinger under her chin – right under that slight dent in the middle he'd already fallen in love with – and turned her face up to his.

  "Brooke, look at me. I don’t want you to think I behave like this with every woman. I don't. I only meant to give you a goodnight peck, and I knew I was pushing my limits even doing that."

  "But I couldn't help myself. I couldn't bring myself to leave without tasting your beautifully juice-stained lips. And when I did, I couldn't stop myself."

  "I'm sorry things got a little out of hand here on the street, but I'm not sorry I kissed you. You're irresistible to me is all I can say in my defense."

  If he was running a line on her, then he was Robert De Niro reincarnated because he'd just turned in an Oscar-winning performance.

  "Well I didn't do anything to stop you, so really, no apology needed." She lowered her eyes again.

  Tilting her head up to meet his gaze again, he said, "Have dinner with me tomorrow night? I can pick you up around 7. I know a great little Italian restaurant that's actually owned by a Greek couple. The food is delicious, and so is the atmosphere."

  "I'll be ready," was all she said as she bounded up the stairs to open the vestibule door to her apartment building.

  After locking the first door, she turned around before unlocking the second door and he was still standing there, waving to her and giving a mock salute.

  Brooke burst out laughing and waved him on his way.

  The smile from the evening carried her right on through the following day – and was still firmly in place when she hurried down stairs the next evening to meet him for their first official date.

  Chapter 3: Back to the Future

  Present Day

  "So, is it going to be a 'yes'?" Zeke said. His heart was literally slamming into his chest.

  What am I gonna do if she says no?

  Brooke had relived what seemed like a lifetime of memories in just a few minutes – if even that. Turning her head up to him, she responded, "Sure, Zeke. Why not?"

  Two can play this game, she thought. He's interested and that puts the ball squarely in my court this go round. Zeke Granger would pay dearly for the pain he'd caused her all those years ago.

  "You can show me all the changes that have taken place in the neighborhood since I've been gone."

  "You live in the same place?" she asked.

  "Yeah," he said.

  "I kinda figured that. Nobody gives up a rent-stabilized apartment in New York, no?"

  "Right," he said, hiding his excitement behind what he hoped was a cool enough façade.

  "I moved back to the neighborhood too. I'm on 45th and 9th, even closer to your place than I was before."

  "Well, welcome back neighbor," he said. "How about I call you tomorrow and we solidify some plans?"

  "Alright," she said, not offering up her phone number.

  This time he's going to have work for everything he gets from me, and I’m going to enjoying dropping him just like he dropped me when it's all said and done.

  Chapter 4: First Date -- Second Round at Love

  Three days later, Brooke met Zeke in front of MOMA, the Museum of Modern Art.

  Dressed in a hunter green, V-neck sweater with a white tee underneath; blue jeans; and a pair of dark-brown, leather motorcycle boots, Zeke was waiting for her.

  She'd always loved his style. Simple. Masculine. Sexy.

  She could smell him before she got to him. He always had the most delicious, unique smell about him. Zeke rarely wore cologne; it was like his body took on the scent of the soap, shampoo or whatever he used, blended it with his body oils and came up with a scent of its own.

  He overtakes every sense I own, she thought, as she reached his side. "Hey, sorry I'm a little late," she said.

  "Some things never change," he said. "And no problem; some women are always worth waiting for."

  Dammit, why did he have to say stuff like that? Focus Brooke. Focus. You have one goal today; find his weakness.

  As they strolled around the Matisse Picasso exhibit, little was said. They both had an appreciation for art, and used to spend countless weekends in the city's museums and galleries just looking – even picking up a few inexpensive paintings from up-and-coming artists.

  Brooke Lakelyn … focus dammit!

  How they used to spend their time was not the avenue she wanted her mind to take. So, after about half an hour of browsing, Brooke said, "Mind if we get something to eat? I didn't have a chance to have lunch and I'm hungry."

  "Sure, no problem," Zeke said. "I know a great Cafeteria-style restaurant that just opened up about six months ago. Since I’m supposed to be showing you what's new in the neighborhood, it's one of the best places to start."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because it's open 24/7, and the food is north of delicious," he grinned.

  "Well point the way. My mouth is watering already," Brooke smiled.

  . . .

  One hour, two desserts and three cups of coffee between them later, Brooke was reminded all over again just how perfect things used to be between them. It's like Zeke was weaving his magic spell on her all over again.

  And then he said it, the one thing that broke the spell and made her steadfastly focus on her secret mission.

  "I can't believe you've come back into my life Brooke, that you've returned to me."

  For a thousand and one reasons, all Brooke felt was rage … blind, painful rage.

  So he thought that she was that easy, did he? That they could just pick up where they'd left off. She'd gone through pits of pain no human heart should have to suffer because of him.

  She'd uprooted her life because of him.

  She'd existed in a city she hated for five years because of him.

  And without uttering one word of remorse, repentance, explanation … nothing! … he had the nerv
e to say, "I'm glad you've returned to me," she thought.

  If he'd uttered one word of regret or attempted to explain, she probably would have forgiven him. But no, she got nothing. And all she could remember was the last thing he said to her when he crushed her world years ago.

  I'm sorry. I just can't do this right now. I think it's best we just go our separate ways, Brooke.