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Chapter twelve
Ricki
“Well,thatsmelliscertainly unique.”
Violet choked out a cough, trying to appear unaffected, but I wasn’t buying it.
“It just needs to air out a little,” she insisted, waving her hand back and forth in front of her face, the keys for the shop jingling in her hand as she moved. “It’s been a while since anyone was in here, so it’s a bit... musty.”
That was one word for it; the place smelled like someone had left a pastrami on rye in the corner for a month, then came back and added a big glass of rotten milk.
“The building inspector said that there were no issues structurally, so it really just needs a bit of love.”
“Yeah, and a flamethrower.”
“Ricki, it’s really not as bad as all that.”
She was right, it wasn’t, but I was having a hard time regulating my emotions regarding the whole situation. I was uncomfortable, and that was making me fall back on my old habit of being a bitch to everyone about everything.
Protective, yes, but not productive.
Taking a deep breath—through my mouth, of course—I reached up to give the pendant around my neck a squeeze before I turned to Violet and smiled.
“I know it’s not bad, Vi. It’s actually pretty great. I’m just...”
“Overwhelmed? Excited? Ready to pee your pants in fear?”
“All of the above,” I laughed.
“Well, me too, Ricki. But you know what the best part about this whole thing is?”
“The fact that we still have half a bottle of that awesome whiskey up in our apartment?” I hedged hopefully.
Violet rolled her eyes dramatically.
“I was going to say that we’re in this together, but the whiskey is a close second.”
Placing my hands on my hips, I turned in a slow circle, surveying the space that was now officially ours as I considered our options.
In the week that had passed since I’d gotten fired and Violet had a bomb dropped on her life, things had moved quickly. Turned out that when a rich old lady names you as her sole heir, it also comes with a whole team of lawyers and accountants to help you sort through your new status as an “Uptown Girl”.
My bestie’s bank account now had more zeroes than either of us wanted to think about, so, in trueusfashion...we didn’t.
What we had no choice but to think about, however, was the list of stipulations that came along with Edith’s will—like the fact that Violet had to move into her apartment.
Apparently, the old bat had it written to say that if Violet didn’t move into the apartment Edith had previously inhabited on the Upper West Side within two weeks of the will reading, then Violet would get nothing.
I mean, we were New York girls through and through. Violet and I had been hustlin’ to keep our heads above water for years now. We both knew that money wasn’t everything in life.
But damn, it sure made things easier.
What wasn’t easy, however, was me accepting the things Violet kept offering me now that she was flush as fuck.
“I can see you over-thinking things, Ricki, and I don’t like it.”
I turned to find my friend staring at me with a stern look on her face; or what passed for stern where Violet was concerned. Her wholesome, blond hair, blue eyed, all-American girl look didn’t really hold much water when she tried to be serious. She was just too darned pretty.
“I know you don’t, Vi, but I’m doin’ it anyway.”
