Page 40 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper

Chloe

Chloe whistled as she got ready to leave; she was going to help out behind the register at Giovanni’s bakery.

Later, in the afternoon, she had a stint that Ricky had gotten her doing some clerical work at the garage.

Little by little, she was scraping together funds to pay her rent, as well as to buy more origami paper and pay for that extravagant dress.

But best of all, she was falling in love with New York, because she was no longer a lonely island.

She was building her own little community, stemming from the paper flowers, from Astoria to Manhattan to Brooklyn to Staten Island to the Bronx.

As she grabbed her purse, her phone rang. It was Zac.

“Good morning,” Chloe said. “You’re calling awfully early.”

“Yes, unfortunately, a bit of bad news.”

She frowned and sat down. “Oh no, what is it?”

“I was just told that I need to go to San Francisco for an emergency business trip, leaving in a few hours. I’ll be gone a couple days, and I’m afraid I won’t be back in time for the start of the gala. My flight lands on Saturday evening.”

Chloe’s eyes went to the ethereal blue gown hanging in her closet.

An eddy of disappointment and relief swirled in her stomach.

She’d never worn anything so beautiful before and had been looking forward to it; at the same time, the tags were still on the dress and she could return it and erase the six-thousand-dollar charge on her credit card. That would be the smart thing to do.

“However,” Zac said, “I will be able to make it late to the gala and be there for most of it. I’ll bring my tuxedo with me and wear it onto the plane. I’ll head straight to the event from the airport.”

Chloe giggled at the thought of someone wearing a tuxedo on a plane. But if anyone could pull it off, it was Zac. That James Bond–British accent thing really did change something like this from ridiculous to debonair.

“So I should just meet you at the gala?” Chloe asked. It made sense; her apartment was not on the path from the airport to the hotel where the party was being held.

“Yes,” he said. “In fact, you should get there at the start, so you don’t miss anything. It’s a fundraiser for the arts. There will be a showcase by a featured painter, too. I think you’d enjoy it.”

“A fundraiser for the arts? You didn’t mention that before.” She sat taller in her chair. The arts were dear to her, not only because of her degree and past museum work, but also because she’d been applying for grants for her school’s art program before she got laid off.

“I didn’t tell you? Hmm…” Zac was typing in the background, and he was no longer paying total attention to her. “Didn’t think it was important, I suppose. There are always charity events going on.”

Chloe huffed. Maybe that was true for him. But there weren’t art galas going on all the time in her world.

But then she caught the tone of her thoughts and made a face at herself.

Since when was she the kind of person to be resentful that other people had different experiences?

Zac could argue that it would have been nice to be spoiled with a wholesome childhood like Chloe’s, with supportive parents who owned an ice cream shop, rather than emotionally distant banker/economists who were governed by ambition and other people’s opinions of their children.

“It’s not a big deal that you didn’t tell me,” Chloe said. “Anyway, yes, I’ll just meet you at the gala on Saturday night. I can’t wait for you to see the gown I got. It’s—”

“Hey, Chloe, I’m sorry, I have to run,” Zac said, typing even faster now. “Lots to get done before I head to the airport soon. But I’ll see you in a couple days, all right?”

Chloe sighed as she glanced at the dress on its hanger. “Sure. Have a great trip, Zac.”