Part 2
Chapter 5
New York, the late 1990s
His father always called it “the big city.” But when he thought of New York, he thought of small things—the lace curtains that wafted through the open windows of his favorite restaurant on the first warm day; the tulips closing their petals, like hands in prayer, on Park Avenue on an April evening; the way fall left a trail of dried leaves at the entrance to Central Park; the orange-blue canyon skies in winter; the cobblestones leading to the chocolate shops and furniture stores nestled in the shadow of the Manhattan Bridge; the unmistakable blend of perfume and sweat, exhaust and freshly baked bread. It was the commingled scent of possibility.
He had come to the city like many young men, fresh out of Harvard “B” school and ready to make his ma
