Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Dad: Despite it being last minute, I managed to get a dorm secured for you on campus.
I sigh, knowing the last minute remark is meant to be a dig at my time management and planning. Still, tonight’s meant to be fun, unclouded by drama with my dad, so I try to respond in a pleasant manner.
Me: Dad, I appreciate that, but as I already told you, I have an apartment.
Dad: I think it would be easier for you to focus on your studies if you were on campus. The commute alone would save you a lot of time.
Always pushing. Always prodding. No admission that I’ve told him what’s going on and it’s he who has neglected to listen. That’s my father, all right. At least, that’s how he’s been since I was old enough to communicate.
“Who are you texting with?” Lydia asks, and I pointedly shove my phone back into my purse.
“No one of importance.”
Harsh, sure. But for tonight, at least, true. Our history is complicated—in a way that could never come close to getting solved with one text exchange. Basically, figuring out how to come to a truce with my father will require an extensive examination of all my life’s choices, including, but not limited to, how I ended up back here, exactly where he wants me.
And that’s not what tonight is about. It’s about having a good time with my sister Lydia and her wife Lou.
After eight long years of being on the West Coast, I am officially back in New York. The city where I grew up. The city that holds all the memories of my youth. The one place that still has the power to make me think of my mother.
Somehow, I feel lost and found at the same time.
The three of us walk arm in arm past the long line of people behind the velvet rope, through a cloud of cigarette smoke and visible puffs of air that only come from your breath when it’s cold enough to be considered a crime, and straight toward the front of the new nightclub that’s apparently all the rage in this city.
A bouncer in a black puffer jacket and a beanie stands at the front of Orchid’s entrance, holding a clipboard. He notes our arrival with a quirk of his brow, and Lydia is quick to hold up her gold-embossed invitation that led us here.
He offers one curt nod and unclips the velvet rope standing between us and the entrance.
My sister’s smile consumes her whole face. “Is it just me, or is this the perfect way to celebrate the fact that Rachel is finally back home?”
I’ll be honest, my one and only older sister is the best. There’s something about her that always makes me feel good. She’s the glass half-full, positive, happy person who brightens everything and everyone around her.
“I agree, hun,” my sister-in-law Lou responds and turns her head to grin at me. “I’m really glad you’re back in New York, Rae.”
“You two act like I never came home to visit,” I retort on a laugh. “I was here nearly every Thanksgiving and Christmas. Even managed several summer trips, too.”
“Yeah, but occasional trips are not the same as you living here,” Lydia interjects as the three of us walk past the bouncer.
Lou holds open the door for Lydia and me, scooting us inside and into the kind of warmth that makes my body shiver from the abrupt shift from the frigid outside temperature.
“I can’t deny,” I say with a knowing quirk of my brow as Lou steps inside and the door falls closed behind her, “if there’s one thing that’s better about LA, it’s the weather. There’s no snow. No cold winter nights that make me feel like my boobs are about to vibrate right off my body.”
Lou laughs. Lydia rolls her eyes and pointedly glances at my attire.
“I told you heels and a dress weren’t a good idea.”
“In my defense, I’m wearing a jacket.” I glance down at my shiny black stilettos, bare legs, electric-blue shift dress, and cream fake-fur shrug. “And you told me to dress for a nightclub. This is certified nightclub attire. Saying a dress and heels aren’t a good idea while also saying nightclub attire creates a glitch in the matrix.”
“That is a joke of a jacket, and you know it. Fifteen degrees doesn’t care about the matrix or Keanu Reeves. Fifteen degrees cares about no one.”
I laugh. “I’m not talking about The Matrix with Keanu.”
“As far as I’m concerned, there is no matrix without Keanu.”
I shake my head with a defeated grin. “Next time, I’ll make sure I have a parka on hand for the nightlife tundra that is New York in the winter. Maybe I can dress it up with some gold hoops or something.”
“Stop being so grouchy.” Lydia laughs and nudges me playfully with her shoulder. “And don’t even try to act like you’re not happy to finally be back home. I can see it in your eyes, Rae.”