area of the Village doesn’t need the
roll-down metal screens for security, but then again, I’m not
selling high-end electronics, either. “I bought her gag gifts, as
instructed.” I smile at my friend and loop my arm through hers as
we head to the subway one block down. “You’ll be so proud.
Glow-in-the-dark penis straws and penis candy necklaces.”
Gemma’s dimples appear with her huge grin.
“Awesome! She’s going to laugh herself silly.” She waves her gift
bag in the air. “I got penis shot glasses and a funny girl’s only
card game. Heather has her place all decorated, the cupcakes, and a
couple of other fun surprises I won’t spoil.”
I watch the ground carefully, unwilling to
step in a sidewalk grating or rut with these heels on. “You two
surprised me with all the bachelorette-type stuff. She’s not
getting married, right?”
“Nope. We thought it would be a nice change
of pace. A girls night out theme rather than our standard dinner
and drinks out with friends.”
I like dinner and drinks out with friends,
but hold back my thoughts as the two obviously had so much fun
planning tonight. “Isn’t she dating a guy from work?”
“Yes! A guy named Andy. I haven’t met him
yet. Oh—and I don’t think you’ve heard the latest.”
“What’s that?”
“Heather told me Carla gave him a key to her
place a couple of weeks ago.”
“Get out!” I stumble in my stride, surprised
the self-proclaimed loner took such a big step. “Good for her—I
think.”
We navigate down the concrete stairs in our
heels carefully, the sound and unpleasant smells of the subway in
summer rushing up to greet us.
“She’s happy,” Gemma says. “What’s there to
think about?”
I shrug and look toward the train platform,
unsure what to say. I am happy for her. Maybe even a tad jealous if
I’m honest with myself. I haven’t felt anything more than
friendship toward a man in years. And I’ve tried. Trust me.
But to give a guy a key to your place? I
can’t even imagine doing something similar. Hi,
care to have a key to my livelihood and my
residence?
I bet that would go over real well with a
guy. Good thing I’m not looking for one.
The rest of the short trip is uneventful.
The closer we get to Heather’s stop the more excited Gemma becomes.
She’s sweet, in an exuberant-puppy kind of way.
She grabs my hand and hustles out when the
train halts at the correct street, and then pushes us up the
stairs, obviously in a rush.
I struggle to keep up, crowds can be
difficult in heels. “Slow down, Gemma. I’d rather get there without
a broken ankle.”
“It’s almost nine! Carla is due to arrive at
nine. I don’t want to be late.”
I quicken my pace, feeling more sure in the
heels than I did at my place. “It’s not a surprise party, right?
Did I miss that detail in the dozens of texts?”
When we reach the corner, Gemma looks back
and forth quickly, her long dirty blond hair brushing her
shoulders, then crosses against the light, dragging me with her.
Panic seizes me for an instant before a glance right and left
assures me the street is safe. Jesus, she’s a woman on a
mission.
“Not a surprise party, you’re right. But I
want to be there before her.”
By sheer luck, and a heavy dose of female
determination, we arrive at Heather’s place before Carla.
Heather’s dressed in a zebra print top, a
gauzy hot pink scarf belted at her waist, a short black leather
skirt, and the sexiest platform zebra shoes I’ve ever seen. I would
have thought July in Manhattan was too hot for leather, but Heather
pulls it off well. It’s not like we’ll be partying on the streets,
so I’m betting the heat never came into account when picking out
the skirt.
“You look fabulous, Katrina!” Heather
gushes, a big smile on her face. “Look at those wild shoes. Love
them. Can I get you a drink?” She ushers us into her open floor
plan apartment, the living room on the right, and the dining room
mostly
roll-down metal screens for security, but then again, I’m not
selling high-end electronics, either. “I bought her gag gifts, as
instructed.” I smile at my friend and loop my arm through hers as
we head to the subway one block down. “You’ll be so proud.
Glow-in-the-dark penis straws and penis candy necklaces.”
Gemma’s dimples appear with her huge grin.
“Awesome! She’s going to laugh herself silly.” She waves her gift
bag in the air. “I got penis shot glasses and a funny girl’s only
card game. Heather has her place all decorated, the cupcakes, and a
couple of other fun surprises I won’t spoil.”
I watch the ground carefully, unwilling to
step in a sidewalk grating or rut with these heels on. “You two
surprised me with all the bachelorette-type stuff. She’s not
getting married, right?”
“Nope. We thought it would be a nice change
of pace. A girls night out theme rather than our standard dinner
and drinks out with friends.”
I like dinner and drinks out with friends,
but hold back my thoughts as the two obviously had so much fun
planning tonight. “Isn’t she dating a guy from work?”
“Yes! A guy named Andy. I haven’t met him
yet. Oh—and I don’t think you’ve heard the latest.”
“What’s that?”
“Heather told me Carla gave him a key to her
place a couple of weeks ago.”
“Get out!” I stumble in my stride, surprised
the self-proclaimed loner took such a big step. “Good for her—I
think.”
We navigate down the concrete stairs in our
heels carefully, the sound and unpleasant smells of the subway in
summer rushing up to greet us.
“She’s happy,” Gemma says. “What’s there to
think about?”
I shrug and look toward the train platform,
unsure what to say. I am happy for her. Maybe even a tad jealous if
I’m honest with myself. I haven’t felt anything more than
friendship toward a man in years. And I’ve tried. Trust me.
But to give a guy a key to your place? I
can’t even imagine doing something similar. Hi,
care to have a key to my livelihood and my
residence?
I bet that would go over real well with a
guy. Good thing I’m not looking for one.
The rest of the short trip is uneventful.
The closer we get to Heather’s stop the more excited Gemma becomes.
She’s sweet, in an exuberant-puppy kind of way.
She grabs my hand and hustles out when the
train halts at the correct street, and then pushes us up the
stairs, obviously in a rush.
I struggle to keep up, crowds can be
difficult in heels. “Slow down, Gemma. I’d rather get there without
a broken ankle.”
“It’s almost nine! Carla is due to arrive at
nine. I don’t want to be late.”
I quicken my pace, feeling more sure in the
heels than I did at my place. “It’s not a surprise party, right?
Did I miss that detail in the dozens of texts?”
When we reach the corner, Gemma looks back
and forth quickly, her long dirty blond hair brushing her
shoulders, then crosses against the light, dragging me with her.
Panic seizes me for an instant before a glance right and left
assures me the street is safe. Jesus, she’s a woman on a
mission.
“Not a surprise party, you’re right. But I
want to be there before her.”
By sheer luck, and a heavy dose of female
determination, we arrive at Heather’s place before Carla.
Heather’s dressed in a zebra print top, a
gauzy hot pink scarf belted at her waist, a short black leather
skirt, and the sexiest platform zebra shoes I’ve ever seen. I would
have thought July in Manhattan was too hot for leather, but Heather
pulls it off well. It’s not like we’ll be partying on the streets,
so I’m betting the heat never came into account when picking out
the skirt.
“You look fabulous, Katrina!” Heather
gushes, a big smile on her face. “Look at those wild shoes. Love
them. Can I get you a drink?” She ushers us into her open floor
plan apartment, the living room on the right, and the dining room
mostly
Similar Books
