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“Same as me. I’m sure I’ve got something that fits.”
When our shift ends at eleven, we head straight to her place. It takes me about three minutes to pick my jaw up off the floor when I see where she lives—and Jackie notices right away.
It’s a loft in a great neighborhood in Manhattan.
“I inherited it from my brother.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, it’s just . . .”
“No need to feel awkward. You’re wondering why I work at a bar if I can afford a place like this, right? The answer is simple: he left the condo fees and all property taxes paid for five years. Which means in six months, I’ll have to sell it.” She doesn’t seem sad saying that.
“It’s too expensive to keep up, right?”
“You have no idea.”
I really don’t. I spend over an hour on the subway every day to get to my jobs. Living on the island costs a fortune. My neighborhood is dangerous, and the building I live in is pretty scary.
“I’m going to sell this apartment. I’m looking for somewhere else to buy, Taylor. It won’t be anything like this, of course, but still way closer than where you are now. How’d you feel about living with me? You’d pay me whatever you pay in rent and building fees now.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. We’d split food costs, too.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to answer me right now.”
Taylor
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Areyou sure you’re gonna drink?” Jackie asks.
“Just a sip. I need to relax. What do you suggest?” I ask in return.
“A cocktail. Something really girly, nothing too strong.”
“You’re the bartender. Pick for me.”
It’s the first time I’m going to drink a whole cocktail. I’ve never really been interested in alcohol, but today, more than ever, I woke up feeling melancholic and missing my dad like crazy.
I haven’t seen William again, and my insecurity told me he was avoiding me, which is why he hadn’t been back to his grandmother’s house. But yesterday Mrs. Maryann mentioned that he’s out of town for a conference, where he’s one of the keynote speakers.
A few minutes later, Jackie hands me a Cosmopolitan, and I roll my eyes. “That’s so cliché. Are we going the full Sex and the City route?”
“Why not? We’re single and in Manhattan. Let’s drink in honor of the one and only Carrie Bradshaw,” she says, referring to one of the show’s leads.
Right as I reach for the drink, my phone buzzes with an incoming message.
I glance at the screen and can’t believe whose name is on it.
William.
Instead of reading it right away, I show my phone to Jackie. She snatches it from me and reads:
“‘Have dinner with me tomorrow.’Wow, Taylor. Nobody can accuse your man of being subtle.”
I read the message in a low voice, remembering the way we parted last time. “What do I reply?”