New York is dangerous, especially for someone who has never traveled anywhere on her own, Katrina.
To blot out the negative thoughts, she focused on her plans for that night. In her tidy new apartment, with a date for drinks with friendly neighbors, so far New York wasn’t anywhere near as daunting as she’d expected.
She changed into jeans and a tank top, then methodically began to unpack her things.
T-shirts, jeans, and undergarments in the bureau.
Skirts, blouses, sweaters, and dresses in the closet.
Toiletries in the medicine chest.
The rental agency had assured her the place had an iron and an ironing board, which she found in the hall closet. She ironed everything in her suitcase that needed it, then carefully rehung the items in the closet.
When she was done, she looked around and smiled.
All set.
After she’d stored her empty suitcase in the hall closet, she picked up her phone to call Deb, excited to give her an update on her first hours in the big city. Disappointed but not surprised to reach her voice mail, she left a brief message:
“Hey, it’s me. Made it safe and sound! I’m nervous, but excited too. Thanks for making me do this. Love you lots.”
She hung up the phone, then plugged her laptop into the outlet next to the desk and booted it up. As the screen flickered to life, she studied the orderly room, trying to picture the last person who had lived here, wondering what Ben was like, what his life in New York was like.
Wondering what her life in New York was going to be like.
She turned her attention to her LinkedIn profile and debated whether to change her status of employment at the advertising agency from current to previous. She stared at the screen and pursed her lips. She was tempted to switch it, but somehow that seemed so . . . permanent.
She decided to keep it as it was. No need to announce to the world what she’d done—at least not yet.
She thought about doing a cursory search for accounting jobs, then changed her mind. She switched off the computer and decided to check out the flat-screen TV in the living room instead.
Before Katrina knew it, it was nearly ten o’clock. She was applying a dab of blush at the bathroom mirror when she heard knocking. She ran into the bedroom to grab her purse, then opened the front door.
“Hey, neighbor, you ready for your first night out in New York?” Shana stood there smiling.
Katrina still couldn’t believe she was going out at ten o’clock—what would her mother think?—but she forced herself to smile back and nod. “Let’s do it.” Should she tell Shana she never did anything like this? Or would that make her sound boring?
She decided to keep that information to herself.
“Did you get unpacked okay?” Shana asked as she opened the front door of the building. “Ben left the place in good shape for you, I hope.”
“I did, thanks. And the place is extremely clean. I was pleasantly surprised, actually.”
“I’m not. Ben’s sort of a neat freak,” she said before skipping down the steps. Katrina couldn’t tell if Shana thought that was a good thing or a bad thing, so she didn’t share the fact that she was a neat freak too.
“You teach yoga?” Katrina asked.
“Yep. There’s a studio not too far from here. Are you a yogi?”
“There’s a yoga studio near my place at home, but I’ve never tried it,” Katrina said. The truth was, she’d been afraid to try it, afraid to look foolish.
“You should come to one of my classes sometime. Yoga’s great for the soul.”
They walked several blocks to a small pub on Avenue A called The HorseBox. As they strolled through the front door—always an awkward moment for Katrina, no matter who she was with—Shana scanned the room.
The place was dark and smelled of beer, with the brick walls and wood paneling typical of a dive bar, but it looked perfectly clean. To the left of the entrance was a dartboard, to the right a Big Buck Hunter machine. Beyond that, Katrina spotted an old-school cash register, complete with push buttons, perched atop the scratched wooden bar. A half-dozen or so TV screens showed various sporting events, most of which appeared to be the Yankees game, and a handful of large oak barrels to one side provided a convenient place for standing patrons to set down their drinks. The place was a little more than half full, with a mixed crowd that appeared to range broadly in age from early twenties to mid or even late sixties, mostly male.
Shana smiled and pointed to the back of the room. “There’s Josh.”
Katrina’s eyes followed. Seated at a high round table was a short barrel-chested man with a dark full beard and glasses. In front of him rested a glistening pitcher of beer. When he noticed Shana approaching, he immediately stood up, although it didn’t add much to his stature. Katrina couldn’t help but think that he looked a lot like a peanut M&M.
“Hey, handsome.” Shana gave him a quick kiss, then turned to Katrina. “This is my boyfriend, Josh. Josh, meet my new neighbor, Kat, who just moved here today from California.” She looked at Katrina as she climbed onto a bar stool. “Is it okay if I call you Kat?”
Katrina paused. No one had ever called her anything but Katrina, not even when she was little. Although Katie might have seemed like a reasonable nickname for a child, her mother had specifically instructed her elementary-school teachers not to call her that. Katie is too pedestrian, her mother had always said, long before Katrina even knew what the word pedestrian meant.
So it had always been Katrina. Not Katie. But Kat had never even crossed her radar.
She liked the sound of it.
She looked at Shana and shrugged, trying to look nonchalant but secretly thrilled. I’m Kat here! “Sure. Why not?”
“Well, hello there, Kat.” Josh held out a hand and gave her an exaggerated nod. “It’s nice to meet you, and may I be among the first to welcome you to our humble city?”
Katrina shook his hand. “Thanks, Josh. I’m excited to be here. A little nervous, but excited.”
“And may I also be the first to pour you a beer in said humble city?” He gestured to the waitress to bring another glass.
“That sounds great. Thanks.” Katrina wondered where New Yorkers had gotten their reputation for being so unfriendly. They couldn’t all be this nice, could they? She figured it was only a matter of time before someone in a hurry pushed her into a gutter.
Once Shana and Katrina each had a full beer in hand, Josh took off his round horn-rimmed glasses and cleaned them with the tail of his light-blue button-down shirt. “So, Kat, what brings you to New York? Work? Love? Mafia ties? I’m always curious how people end up here.”
Katrina thought about how to respond—there was no simple answer, was there?—but before she could say anything, Shana jumped in.
“Adventure,” she said with bright eyes. “She just quit her job. She’s going to live here for a couple of months and just have fun. Isn’t that magnificent?”
Josh raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? Here to get into some trouble, are you?”
Katrina laughed. “Not really. I was actually supposed to come with my best friend, but she had to cancel at the last minute because of work, so I decided to come anyway.”
“Really?” Shana asked. “That’s too bad.”
“Impressive that you’re on your own,” Josh said. “That takes guts.”
“Totally,” Shana said. “I don’t know if I could do it.”
They were clearly impressed, but Katrina still felt the familiar discomfort that arose anytime she had to talk about herself. She noticed her foot had begun to tap. “Thanks. So, Josh, what do you do? Shana told me she teaches yoga.”
Shana pointed to herself, then to Josh. “I also go to auditions that never turn into any real work. Josh, however, is a highly paid tax attorney and is thus buying our drinks tonig
ht.” She playfully tousled his thick hair.
Josh caught her hand and kissed it. “With pleasure.”
Katrina looked at Josh. Tax attorney was about the last thing she’d have guessed. He looked more like a history professor. Or a lumberjack dressed in a nice shirt. Or a peanut M&M model.
“What kind of auditions?” she asked Shana.
Shana pushed her long blonde hair behind her shoulders. “Acting. I can’t sing, that’s for sure.”
“You sing great,” Josh said. He turned to Katrina. “You should see her rock it at karaoke.”
Shana put a hand on his chest. “Such a sweet man, yet so delusional.”
“How long have you lived here?” Katrina asked Josh.
This time Josh pointed to himself and then turned to Shana. “Me, six years. You’re five, right, hot bug?”
“Almost.” Shana sipped her beer. “Time goes by so quickly here. You’ll see, Kat.”
“How long have you two been dating?”
Shana held up two fingers. “Two years, this time around. We went on a couple dates when I first moved here, but then he ditched me like I had the plague. We ran into each other a few years later, and by then he’d come to his senses. Lucky for me.”
Josh coughed. “As I recall, you had a boyfriend back home on the farm. A tall, dashing sort. Remember him?”
She giggled. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But regardless of how it went down, it worked out in my favor.”
Katrina studied the unlikely couple. Shana looked like a head cheerleader. She was perky and pretty and a good two inches taller than rotund, bespectacled Josh, who hardly seemed the type to engage in any sort of aerobic activity, much less yoga. But despite the physical mismatch, there was no questioning their sincere affection for each other. Katrina found it very sweet.
“Do you live around here too?” she asked Josh.
He pointed his thumb over his left shoulder. “I’m on the Upper East Side. I’m not hip enough to live in this neighborhood. I don’t even own a fedora.”
“You’re hip enough for me,” Shana said.
“Well then, I’m not young enough.”
“How old are you?” Katrina asked.
“Twenty-nine.”
Shana pointed at herself. “Twenty-six.”
Katrina followed their lead. “Twenty-nine.” Then she pointed toward the exit. “Our building is in Gramercy, right?” she asked Shana. “That’s what the rental agency said.”
Shana nodded. “Technically, yes, but I tend to say I live in the East Village, because I like to be associated with the East Village. I just can’t afford to live there.”
“Where’s that?” Katrina asked.
Josh pointed west. “A couple blocks that way. I’m definitely not young enough or hip enough to live there.”
“Technically we’re in Alphabet City right now,” Shana said. “But it’s all walking distance from Gramercy. You’ll see.”
Katrina sipped her beer. “I’m going to need a geography lesson. I feel like I have quite a steep learning curve ahead of me.”
Josh shook his head. “Don’t worry. You’ll get it down fast. We all did.”
Shana held up her phone. “Plus, if you’re directionally challenged like I am, there’s always this little guy to help in a pinch.”
“Well, hello there, beautiful people in a scary dive bar.” The sound of a woman’s voice made them all turn their heads.
Josh stood up, and Katrina was again impressed by his manners. “Hey, tiny one,” he said to Grace. “Good to see you.”
“Hi, Gracie.” Shana kissed her on the cheek and gestured to an empty bar stool. “Have a seat.”
“Hi, Katrina,” Grace said. “I’m glad you came out for a drink.”
“We’ve decided to call her Kat,” Shana said.
Grace raised an eyebrow as she climbed up on the stool. “Is that so?”
Shana nodded. “I think it suits her. Don’t you?”
Grace looked at Katrina. “She’s known you for what, two hours, and now you’re a pet?”
Katrina smiled. “I sort of like it, actually. No one’s ever called me that before.”
“I like it too,” Shana said. “Goes well with the adventure-in–New York theme, like this is just one of your nine lives.” She made cat claws with her fingers.
Grace tapped her palms on the table. “Then Kat it is. Meow. Uncle Josh, will you procure me a beverage, please?”
Katrina crinkled her nose. “Uncle Josh?”
Grace gestured to him. “Look at that face. Does he look twenty-nine to you? Hell no. I’d put my money on forty-five.”
“I’ve had a full beard since I was about fifteen,” Josh said with a shrug. “I was buying beer as a junior in high school—without an ID.”
Grace wiggled her fingers at him, then pointed to the bar. “Yo. Uncle Josh. Focus. Beverage.”
“Okay, okay.” Josh signaled to the waiter to bring them a fresh pitcher of beer, plus another glass for Grace. “God forbid I upset Queen Gracie.”
“How did the meeting go?” Shana turned to face Grace. “Tell us everything.”
Grace stiffened a tiny bit—not much, but just enough to be noticed. “Outcome uncertain. I think she liked the line, but she’s going to get back to me next week. So that probably means like a month. You know how flaky these buyers are. It’s ridiculous.”
Katrina wondered what kind of meeting she’d had at such a late hour, but before she could ask, Shana put a hand on her arm. “Grace makes the most beautiful jewelry.”
Katrina looked at Grace. “Jewelry? What kind?”
Grace shrugged. “Mostly necklaces and earrings, all silver, some with various stones.”
“Show her, Gracie,” Shana said.
Grace pulled out two boxes from her purse and set them carefully on the table, then opened them one after the other. Inside one lay a long, delicate chain holding a thin silver triangle about an inch long on each side. The pendant on the second necklace consisted of two interlocking silver circles, one the size of a silver dollar, the other half as big.
“Wow, they are beautiful,” Katrina said. It was just the type of jewelry she’d always wanted to wear . . . but never had.
“Aren’t they stunning?” Shana said.
“Yes.” Katrina realized she was whispering. She found both pieces striking for their bold simplicity.
Grace handed one of the necklaces to Katrina. “This is sort of the general style of all my stuff. I’m into class, not trash.”
“I adore them,” Shana said.
Grace smiled at her. “Thanks, babe.” Then she looked at Katrina. “I’m trying to get some retail shops to carry them, which is turning out to be way harder than I ever thought it would be. It’s really starting to piss me off, actually.”
Josh laughed. “Everything pisses you off.”
“You piss me off,” she said to him.
The waitress set down a pitcher, and Josh began to pour everyone a fresh drink, starting with Grace. When it was Katrina’s turn, she covered her still half-full glass with her hand.
“I’m good. Thanks, though,” she said. Then she said to Grace, “How long have you been making jewelry?”
“Since I was two.”
Katrina felt her eyes get big. “Since you were two?”
“Kidding. Not that long. Full-time for about a year now.”
“Oh,” Katrina said.
“It takes a while to get used to her,” Josh said to Katrina.
“But it’s well worth it. You’ll see,” Shana added.
Grace narrowed her eyes at Josh. “Did you hear that, old man? I’m well worth it.”
“We’re the same age,” Josh said.
“What were you doing before this?” Katrina asked.
Grace t
ook a sip of her beer, then set down her glass on the table. “I was a tax attorney. But I dabbled in jewelry in my spare time for a couple years before finally taking the plunge.”
Grace is a tax attorney too? Katrina turned to Josh, who smiled at her and nodded. “We used to work together.”
“You mean you used to work for me,” Grace said, pointing at him.
He held up his palms. “What is with all the revisionist history tonight? We used to work together. We were the shortest attorneys in the firm.”
Grace pointed at him again. “We were the shortest people in the firm, not limited to attorneys. Unless it was bring your kid to work day, of course.”
“They used to call us the munchkins,” Josh said.
Katrina laughed. “So why did you leave?” she asked Grace.
“I had to get out of there. I was totally getting office butt. Everyone was.”
“Hey now, I still work there,” Josh said.
“Have you seen your butt?” Grace sliced the air in a flat line with her hand.
“I love his office butt,” Shana said.
Josh cleared his throat. “I think it’s time to change the subject. What about you, Kat? What did you do out in California?”
Katrina swallowed. “Oh, I . . . I used to work at an advertising agency.”
“Ah, so you’re a creative type too,” Grace said with a nod. “My kind of person.”
Katrina shook her head. “Actually, no. I worked in the finance department.”
Shana looked surprised. “Really? You don’t strike me as that . . . personality type.”
“Definitely not,” Grace said.
Katrina hoped that was a compliment. No one but Deb had ever questioned how her chosen profession matched up with her personality—aside from herself, of course.
“Do you have friends who live here?” Grace asked as she took another sip of her beer. “New York City can be a bitch to navigate solo.”
Katrina gave Shana and Josh a hopeful look. “Do you two count?”
Shana smiled. “Of course we do.”
“Then I have three friends, counting the cabdriver I met tonight. Or four, if I can count you too?”
Grace shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think so.”
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