Chapter 4
Going over to the window seat, I sit against the soft, plush cushions, taking it all in. It’s been a day.
The quaint view of my private little outdoor balcony garden that looks out to the night-lit skyscrapers is such a rarity in New York City.
I love the old-style water tower that sits on top of the building next door, like it belongs in a chic European movie.
A small slice of Parisian charm right here in the middle of the Manhattan skyline.
I know exactly how lucky I am to have it.
And how devastated I’m going to be to lose it.
When the clouds are moody and the sun is low, there’s nowhere more beautiful.
Golden rays flood my living room, catching the darkly colorful hues of the Persian rug and casting a soft glow onto my carefully curated bookshelves.
Even my indoor plants—stubborn survivors of my recent neglect, because I’ve been so busy—look like they belong in an upscale home decorating magazine.
In fact, my apartment has been featured in a few home decorating magazines.
I’m into decorating. It’s the thing I do to de-stress, when I can manage to take a break from working or studying.
My own little form of escapism. Honestly, few things bring me as much joy as scouting through antique stores and cute homeware boutiques and finding some little gem.
My father couldn’t have cared less so I took it upon myself to create the magic. And it is magical.
This apartment is my own personal slice of heaven. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.
It’s where she was happiest.
It’s where I’m happiest.
Unfortunately, I have to imagine it. Because if today was any indication of what the future holds, I’ll be packing my bags by the end of the month.
My roommate bounces into the room. Grace and I met the first day of grad school at NYU.
We were both just starting our MBAs. We sat next to each other at one of the orientation lectures and started talking.
We’ve been practically inseparable ever since.
She moved in with me the day after my father died, just over six months ago.
“Long day?” Grace sits at the other end of the window seat.
“Yes.” I could reply, awful, terrible, scary, horrible doomsday . But I’m trying to find some silver lining in all this. Speaking the words only makes them more likely to come true. “But it’s better now.”
“I’m very happy to announce that I’ve got the solution to all your problems—okay, maybe not all, but definitely a few—right here in my hot little hands.”
Grace is holding her phone, grinning like she just…wait a minute. “Why are you glowing ?” I demand. “And why are you dressed like that?”
I’d just finished the first semester of my MBA when my father dropped dead.
I had to put my studies on hold to work full-time as the newly-appointed CEO of my father’s company—much to the shock and horror of the grouchy Board, but there was nothing they could do about it.
There was nothing I could do about it either, even though I was far from ready.
It was all very black and white in the will.
Grace is still studying and spends most of her time in sweats with her messy bun pinned into haphazard place with a pen.
But not today. She’s dressed in skinny jeans and a tight-fitting pink sweater.
Her cheeks match her sweater and her dark hair is very…
clean , hanging over her shoulders in glossy but slightly chaotic waves.
She’s still grinning at me. In fact I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Grace look so elated . But she also looks…like she just spent the afternoon rolling around in bed and then quickly smoothed her hair not-quite into place. “Grace? What’s going on?”
She laughs, and there it is again. A kind of pure, uncut happiness I’m not sure I’ve ever seen concentrated in this way in my best friend before. “I just got laid, that’s what’s going on.”
I blink at her. “ What? ”
“You heard me.”
“When? How? With who ?”
She sighs deeply, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the carved wooden frame of the window seat. “By the dreamiest dream man in the entire freaking world, that’s who.”
“Seriously? Grace. Who is he? How did you meet? Why don’t I know about any of this?”
She opens her eyes, those flags of pink on her cheeks getting even pinker. “Luck, it was a- may -zing.”
“It was? But who is he?”
Grace and I have bonded over many things. One of those things being that we’re both twenty-three and we both are—or were —virgins. We’re picky. We’ve discussed this. We’re waiting for not just any old fling, but something special. “Luck, it was better than anything I could have imagined.”
“Holy shit, Grace,” I laugh.
“I know ,” she gushes.
“But…how? When did you meet this guy? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.” It’s true I’ve been insanely snowed under with my new job lately and she’s been studying non-stop, but we still take the time to talk at least a few times a week.
“I met him today.”
“You met him today ? Where?”
“At Bryant Park. We’d arranged to meet there.”
“Arranged? How?”
“ God, Luck. You have to try it. I met him through this new dating app everyone’s been talking about.
Remember that girl in our Organizational Behavior class named Hattie?
She told me about it. This app has, like, gone viral because the algorithms are so accurate. They somehow make really good matches.”
“You met him on a dating app?” And you jumped straight into bed with him?
“He’s also getting his MBA. At Columbia.
He’s in his final semester. We’d agreed to meet for lunch.
Luck, he’s so freaking hot . I was like, are you kidding me ?
This is my blind date? And then after we had lunch and a drink—two, actually—he invited me to check out the apartment he just moved into.
It’s insane. He was offered a job even though he hasn’t graduated yet and there was a signing bonus that was so big he bought himself an apartment.
He closed on it just last week. The only piece of furniture he’s bought so far is a futon.
It’s a one-bedroom in Hudson Yards. Can you believe that? ”
“No.”
“It’s freaking true .”
“Hot, loaded and employed? He sounds like a fictional character.”
“He looks like one!” Grace exclaims. “He’s handsome but he’s also nice.
He was in a long-term relationship and they just broke up, like, two months ago.
He broke up with her . He said they had different ideas about the kind of future they wanted.
She moved back to Kansas or somewhere, because she hates the city.
He wants to live in New York. It’s always been his dream and he’s worked really hard to get here.
He’s sort of serious and academic and he wears these nerdy little glasses that look so cute on him.
He has a close-knit family upstate and he played hockey at Cornell.
So he’s, like…I don’t know how to explain it, Luck. He’s perfect .”
“Wow. A hot hockey-player finance nerd. He sounds perfect.”
“I think he might be. And then he kissed me and one thing led to another. I knew we were taking things at warp speed but I figured why not? I might never get another opportunity like this again. So I went with it.”
“Holy shit, Grace. And it was…okay for you?”
“It was more than okay.” Grace leans her head back and closes her eyes again. But then she opens them and they’re wide with emotion. “I had the first three man-induced orgasms of my life and they were spectacular .”
“ Three? ” This makes me laugh a little, and that’s something, considering the day I’ve had. “Yay, Gracie. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you, Luck.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“Yes. Tomorrow. He had to go to a company dinner tonight but we’re going to meet up again tomorrow night.”
“Wow,” I say again.
“So no matter how shitty your day or week or month has been, I have the solution.”
I laugh again. “A dating app? That would definitely not solve my problems. I’m thrilled for you, sweetie, but the last thing I need right now is a relationship. Or a fuck buddy.”
“Don’t knock it ’til you try it, girlfriend. Trust me, it lives up to the hype and then some.”
My stomach growls and I remember I haven’t eaten since breakfast. “Have you eaten? Let’s order in.”
“Nice try, L. Emerson.” I told Grace about my dad’s official title for me and she found it hilarious. She picks up her phone. “I’m making you a profile.”