AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTERONE
“So, what do you think?”
“What do I think? I’m freaking stunned, Wren. Stunned with a capital S. I can’t believe you bought a house in the Upper West Side. How in the world did you outbid the other buyer? This place is out of this world.” My best friend, Holly, quickly inspects the kitchen and then strides into the living room. Her eyes gleam with excitement as she examines the view from the bay window, craning her neck to one side, hoping to see Central Park. She’s the first person outside my grandparents to see my new digs, and I’m thrilled she’s so impressed.
“Hey! I can see the wall and the trees just above it. You can honestly say you’ve got a view of the park. That’s amazing.” Holly’s enthusiasm is palpable and also messy. In her struggle to get a better view, her blushed cheek smudges the glass, and I wrinkle my nose, making a mental note to clean it off after she leaves.
“Thanks for saying that. This will probably be the biggest purchase of my life, and since I signed the papers, my nerves have been shot,” I murmur as my stomach roils with muted terror.
“Why don’t you sound as happy as me? You’re a homeowner. You’ve just achieved the ultimate American dream.” Holly claps her hands and bounces on the balls of her feet.
“No, I’m ecstatic. It’s a lot to take in, and there’s still so much work to do. The floors need to be sanded and refinished. I’ll have to upgrade the fixtures and carpet the stairs. You know how clumsy I can be. One false move and I’ll crack my head open.” I sigh, my shoulders slumping when I spot scuff marks on the molding. Instantly annoyed, I squat to the floor and rub the mark with my fingers, removing it with ease.
Holly shakes her head, clicking her tongue to demonstrate her disapproval. “Why are you complaining? You’re about to move into a five-bedroom brownstone with a rooftop patio while I’m stuck with a horrible roommate in a one-bedroom apartment in Soho. You should get down on your knees and thank your lucky stars you get this gorgeous place all to yourself.” She stares with brows furrowed and her hands clenched at her waist.
I roll my eyes and then stroll into the hall. “That horrible roommate happens to be your husband. No one told you to get married at twenty-two. Besides, your place is lovely.”
Holly follows me into the study, shuffling her feet as she scolds, “You’re a fortunate girl. Stop looking for flaws in your diamonds. You don’t have to be perfect. This place doesn’t have to be perfect. I know you’ll carve it out and make it your own. And then I’ll help you plan the most fantabulous housewarming party this side of town has ever seen!” She squeals and raises her arms over her head, reliving her glory days as head cheerleader.
I nod and pretend to agree with her. The pursuit of excellence doesn’t stress me out. It soothes and gives me a purpose. Holly wouldn’t understand. She never has a hair out of place or utters the wrong word. People seek her approval and copy her style. Her parents cried at our graduation. Mine didn’t even attend.
And why would they? They gave up trying to love me long ago. Fortunately, my grandparents love me despite my failings and have always tried to compensate for my parents’ neglect.
“I’m sorry. I swear I’m not looking for flaws. My stress is mounting between the repairs, my move, and starting my new job. I’m grateful but swamped.” I place my hands on my temples and try to rub away the tension pinching all the way to my jaw. “I’m thrilled to leave my small apartment behind but dreading the actual move.”
"You’re worrying for nothing. Hire someone to pack up your place and move it here. You have money to spare.” Holly offers little sympathy for my plight as she wanders into the previous owner’s custom-built walk-in closet and marvels at the space. “This is the closet of my dreams. Why have you never made mention of this before?”
I shrug my shoulders and demonstrate the motorized revolving shoe shelf. “It’s a little over the top if you ask me. But it has a few conveniences.”
“Show-off!” She stares back at me from the full-length mirror and sticks out her tongue.
“You’re trying to simplify my dilemma to shut me up. First, you know I’d never let anyone pack my stuff. Movers break shit all the time. And I’m not talking about moving something from point A to point B. This could be a three-day affair. My grandmother gave me a ton of antique pieces from the house in Tarrytown, and those must be handled with extra care. Then we need to grab my new furniture from the storage center in Chelsea. It’s a whole ordeal that needs planning and coordination,” I whine, then cringe with horror, realizing I sound like a petulant child. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I hate making a fuss, but I’m in way over my head, navigating through a field I know nothing about.
We climb the stairs to the third floor, Holly peeking into rooms while I inspect the door jambs for dents and scuffs. I stop to admire a reading nook just off the second-floor landing with a bay window overlooking the street. Holly’s right. I’m a fortunate girl, and I should be walking on air. There aren’t too many twenty-two-year-olds who could afford a place like this. Even fewer people come into multi-million-dollar trust funds when they turn twenty-one. I should count my blessings and savor this milestone.
“Would you want to see the patio on the roof? I have big plans for waterproof furniture, an outdoor rug, and miniature cypress trees. But I’d like your opinion before I settle on anything,” I say as we ascend the small metal staircase leading outside.
Holly has far better style than me, and although there’s no guarantee I’ll implement all of her suggestions, I’d like to hear her ideas.
Holly buzzes with excitement as she walks on the rooftop and takes in the view of Central Park and Upper Manhattan. She scampers toward the edge and lifts her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. “This is such a gorgeous space. I can already picture us lounging on a crisp fall day, sipping mulled wine and talking shit about the men in our lives.” She giggles as she prances about, twirling like a ballerina toward the door leading downstairs.
“Our men? I’m done with men. The only man I care about is the designer making my custom draperies,” I huff and pull the measuring tape from my purse and click in front of her face. “Help me measure.”
Holly follows, shaking her head as she gripes, “Don’t let Caden win by not getting back on the horse. His loss is New York’s gain. He has a new girlfriend who will probably dump him when she finds out he turns into a troll after the honeymoon period ends. You, on the other hand, scored a chunk of prime Manhattan real estate. The rewards are not comparable.”
“I’m afraid of horses,” I mutter, annoyed by the topic and fearful of Holly’s inevitable matchmaking schemes. “I thought we had a good thing until he dumped me in a crowded restaurant over brunch and immediately ghosted me.”
Holly offers an exaggerated gasp while holding the end of the measuring tape. “You did not have a good thing. He was horrible. Thankless. Feckless. A plague to all women. You deserved so much better than him, and I believe a better guy is just around the corner. You should let me set you up with one of my brother’s friends.”
I wave my palm back and forth, hoping she gets the hint that I’m not interested in dating. “I don’t want to talk about Caden or men in general. My instincts stink, and one heartache this year was enough for me. It’s been two months and I’m over it. Let’s just finish up and head out. I still need to call the utility companies to get the accounts transferred to my name and make moving arrangements. Everyone I’ve called has given me attitude about the multiple trips.”
“Oh shit, I almost forgot!” Holly rummages through her giant bag and produces a business card. “My mother recommends this company. She said they have excellent customer service and were extra careful with moving my grandmother’s cherished belongings to my parent’s house last winter. Give them a call as soon as possible. They book up fast.”
I take the card from her fingers and read the embossed text out loud. “Tribeca Moving? I’ll give them a call over lunch. Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTERTWO
“This wedding is giving me hives. Do you want to head out and grab a drink at Riley’s?” My friend, Hank, unfastens his tie and shakes his thumb toward the door. He always does this. The reception has just begun, and dinner hasn’t been served. He can’t stand being around happy couples or any ritual that screams romance. Since his divorce, weddings have been at the top of his hit list.
