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Spencer beamed and looked around. A young guy who looked a lot like Noel Kahn—except probably less puerile—was sitting at the bar. A girl in nut brown boots tucked into her jeans sat next to him, laughing. Next to them was a handsome older couple, the woman in a silvery poncho, the man in a narrow, pin-striped suit. A French pop song was playing over the speakers. Everything in New York seemed a billion times more fashionable than Rosewood. “I wish I could live here,” she sighed.
Olivia tilted her head, her eyes lighting up. “I know. I wish you could too. But it must be so nice out in Pennsylvania. All that space and clean air.” She touched Spencer’s hand.
“Rosewood is nice.” Spencer swirled her wine and weighed her words carefully. “But my family…isn’t.”
Olivia opened her mouth, a concerned look on her face. “They just don’t care about me,” Spencer clarified. “I’d give anything not to live there anymore. They wouldn’t even miss me.”
There was a peppery feeling in her nose that she always got when she was about to cry. She looked stubbornly into her lap, trying to harness her emotions.
Olivia stroked Spencer’s arm. “I’d give anything for you to live here,” she said. “But I have a confession to make. Morgan has a hard time trusting people—some close friends have used him for his money in the past, and now he’s very careful about people he doesn’t know. I haven’t told him about you yet—he knew I gave up a baby when I was young, but he didn’t know I was searching for you. I wanted to make sure this was real first.”
Spencer nodded. She certainly understood why Olivia hadn’t told Morgan they were meeting—it wasn’t like she’d told people either.
“I’m going to tell him about you in Paris,” Olivia added. “And once he meets you, I know he’ll adore you.”
Spencer bit off a crust of bread, considering her options. “If I moved here, I wouldn’t even have to live with you guys,” she sounded out. “I could get my own place.”
Olivia got a hopeful look on her face. “Could you handle living on your own?”
Spencer shrugged. “Sure.” Her parents were barely around these days; she was practically living on her own as it was.
“I would love to have you here,” Olivia admitted, her eyes bright. “Just think—you could get a one-bedroom in the Village near us. I’m sure our Realtor, Michael, could find you something really special.”
“I could start college next year, a year early,” Spencer added, her excitement beginning to build. “I was thinking about doing that anyway.” When she’d secretly dated Wren, Melissa’s boyfriend, she’d considered applying to Penn early to get out of the house and be with him. In fact, she’d already spoken to the Rosewood Day administration about graduating as a junior. With all the AP classes she’d taken, she was more than qualified.
Olivia breathed in, about to say something else, but then stopped, took a long sip of wine, and held out her palms, as if to say, Hold up. “I shouldn’t be getting so excited,” she said. “I’m supposed to be the responsible one here. You should stay with your family, Spencer. Let’s stick to visits for now at least, okay?” She patted Spencer’s hand, probably noting Spencer’s disappointed look. “Don’t worry. I’ve only just found you, and I don’t want to lose you again.”
After polishing off the bottle of wine and two orders of pasta puttanesca, they strolled to the helipad on the Hudson River, acting more like best friends than mother and daughter. When Spencer saw Olivia’s helicopter waiting, she clutched her arm. “I’m going to miss you.”
Olivia’s bottom lip quivered. “I’ll be back soon. And we’ll make plans to do this again. Maybe a Madison Avenue shopping trip next time? You’ll die over the Louboutin store.”
“It’s a deal.” Spencer wrapped her arms around Olivia. She smelled like Narciso Rodriguez, one of Spencer’s favorite perfumes. Olivia blew a kiss and boarded the helicopter. The propeller began to whirl, and Spencer pivoted and looked back at the city. Cabs zoomed up the West Side Highway. People jogged down the West Side path, even though it was past 10 P.M. Lights twinkled in the apartment windows. A party boat on the Hudson drifted by, guests dressed in elegant suits and gowns clearly visible on the deck.
She was dying to live here. Now she had a reason to.
The helicopter lifted off the ground. Olivia slid big headphones over her ears, leaned out the window, and waved enthusiastically at Spencer. “Bon voyage!” Spencer cried. When she hefted her bag higher on her shoulder, something poked her arm. Olivia’s accordion folder.
She pulled it out and waved it over her head. “You forgot this!” But Olivia was saying something to the pilot, her eyes on the skyline. Spencer waved until the helicopter was a tiny dot on the horizon, finally lowering her arms and turning away. At least she had an excuse to see Olivia again.
14
AND ON A WESTBOUND TRAIN THE NEXT DAY…
The following afternoon, Aria stood on the westbound SEPTA platform in Yarmouth, a town a few miles from Rosewood. The sun was still high in the sky, but the air was chilly, and Aria’s fingers had gone numb. She craned her neck and looked down the tracks. The train was a few stops away, glimmering in the distance. Her heart sped up.
After she’d seen not one but two hot girls fawn over Mike yesterday, she’d decided that life was too short to brood. She distinctly remembered Jason telling her that he got out of Thursday classes early enough to catch the 3 P.M. bullet train back to Yarmouth. Which meant she knew just where to find him now.
