"Hey." It was my brother, James. "You want to get some drinks tonight?"
"Yeah sure, I have a lot to tell you."
"Anything good?"
"Not really. Well, I guess one thing." Blue had curled himself into a ball at my feet. "How about Nancy's at-- " I looked at the clock. It was 6:30. "How about a half hour?" I asked, planning a quick walk around the block for Blue.
"Perfect," James said.
The sun was slipping behind the brownstones across the street and turning the sky pink when I left for Nancy's. "Hey," said the guy on the corner who always said hey. I ignored him. "Hey, pretty lady, you got a beautiful ass," he tried again. I watched the concrete and power-walked away.
Ten minutes later I was at Nancy's, a low-key lesbian bar with a nice backyard. If you wanted to talk to a stranger you could, but there was no pressure. If you wanted to take someone home you could, but again there was no pressure.
I ordered a 'Tequila Gimlet, straight up'. The bartender, whose name I was pretty sure was Diane, nodded and moved off to make my drink. My face, reflected in the mirror behind the bar, peered from between a bottle of Blue Curacao and Midori. I needed a haircut. My fashionable bangs had grown out, and now I just pushed them behind my ears. Last night's fight with Marcus and my early-morning journey to the pound had left puffy, blue-tinted circles under my eyes. All those tears had left the white around my gray irises streaked with red and--I leaned forward a little to make sure--my upper eyelids a bizarre orange.
Diane placed a martini glass brimming with a sheer red liquid on the bar, and I handed her a ten. I moved toward the backyard, trying not to spill my drink all over my hand while spilling my drink all over my hand.
One overly cute couple sat in the soft candlelight cooing. I took a table close to the door and artificial lighting. As the tequila burned in my mouth, I wrangled with the memories of the past 24 hours. I usually shoved thoughts I didn't like to the back of my mind. But they never went away--they're always back there-- lurking right on the other side of my self-control.
James appeared in the doorway, smiling, holding a Tequila Gimlet, splash of cran (but his was on the rocks). He was a head taller than me at around six feet. We shared the same gray eyes and blond hair, though James's was short and styled while mine was reaching past my shoulder blades. Edging towards 30, James liked to talk about how his green-bean physique was morphing into eggplant. But the guy was still a pole.
"You look like shit," James said as he sat down. I smiled weakly and slurped my tequila. "Seriously, what the fuck happened to you?"
"Well, I broke up with Marcus"--this elicited a gasp--"and bought a dog."--an even bigger gasp--"Oh, and I got fired." I raised my glass in a mock toast to myself and polished it off.
"I talked to you yesterday! All this happened in one day?" I nodded, tried to finish my drink, then realized I already had. I went and brought back another.
"It's not really surprising," I said as I sat down. "We all knew it was coming."
James nodded. "Are you OK?" he asked.
"Well, I did lose my job because I went kinda crazy at work."
"Crazy?"
I told him about the plump tourist, her misorder, my insane reaction, and Brad's management decision. Then I told him about the masturbation comment.
James laughed. "I love it," he said. "I'm proud of you, Joy. That job sucked. Marcus was a tool. You've got a whole new fresh start."
"Easy for you to say. How exactly am I supposed to pay my rent?"
"You'll figure it out. Now, tell me about this dog. I can't believe you're such an asshole that you went out and got a dog because you broke up with your boyfriend. It's so pathetic."
"You're a real sweetheart."
"Somebody has to tell you."
"Jesus, I wanted a dog, so I went and got a dog."
"Oh, this was something planned?" James leaned his elbows on the table with mischief dancing in his eyes. "It's just a coincidence that you happened to break up with your boyfriend the night before." He smiled at me.
"Oh, just shut up. So what if I bought a dog to console myself?" He was right, of course. I had gone and bought a dog because I broke up with my boyfriend. And, yes, that was pathetic.
"So, what kind of dog?"
"He's really beautiful. He has one blue eye and one brown. Oh, oh, the best part is he attacked Marcus when he tried to come over." James laughed. "I know. Can you fucking believe it? He left me five messages today." I held up my hand with all five fingers extended.
"Your dog attacks people?"
"Not people, intruders," I said with more confidence than I felt. For all I knew Blue attacked all sorts of people. Maybe it wasn't that Marcus was breaking into the house. Maybe Blue would attack any douchebag we passed on the street. The thought made me laugh.
James smiled at me. "Not to talk badly about Marcus, Lord knows he was sexy as hell, but the guy is kind of an idiot. Not to mention that he tried to control you way too much. Low self-esteem fucks up a lot of men." James sat back, his hypothesis fully expressed.
I laughed. "I guess. Whatever, I'm over it." I sat up and scooped up my drink taking a long sip. "I'm so over it."
"Well, are you going to call him back? I don't think you should. Make a clean break."
I knew he was right, but I also knew that I had no control over myself whatsoever and would probably call him. "How's Hugh?" I asked, changing the subject. Hugh was James's boyfriend of four years.
"He's good," James smiled. "Actually, we're really good … Our offer was accepted." Hugh and James had spent the last eight months trying to find an apartment. Two months ago, they'd found it. A fifth-floor walk-up with a roof deck, two bedrooms (OK, a bedroom-and-a-half) and a kitchen that was recently renovated.
"Holy shit. That's awesome. How much?"
"It's a little out of our price range, but you always pay more than you want, right?"
Later, I stumbled into my building blind-drunk. I climbed the steps humming to myself, swinging my keys. I was feeling pretty good. Sure, I had no job, no boyfriend, and a weirdo of a dog, but life was not so bad, not so bad at all. I would make it; I could fix it. Everything was going to be just fine.
Blue greeted me at the door. "Hi, boy." I crouched and rubbed his ears. He nuzzled my chest, knocking me against the wall. Blue wrapped himself in my arms. I breathed into his neck, smelling the pound. "We're going to be OK," I said into his neck. "I'm going to take care of us. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to fix this mess of a life of ours." Then I passed out.
Click to download and continue reading Unleashed, Sydney Rye Mystery Book 1: emilykimelman.com/Unwb
A Note From Emily
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed the first book in my Star Struck Thriller series!
Obviously, this book is a work of fiction but I stole a lot from current events. The Twentieth of January is a real spy novel by Ted Allbeury. There is a conspiracy theory that the KGB gave the book to Trump back in the 80s which set off a chain of events leading to his Presidency. The original book was always thought to be too far fetched until now…
Check out Benjamin Walker’s Theory of Everything Podcast titled The Twentieth of January for a full telling of the conspiracy theory. It’s a crazy and fascinating story no matter which side of the aisle you’re on. And the idea that a spy novel could affect the real world so drastically is pretty irresistible to a novelist.
The information that Temperance shares with Angela about white supremacists—the FBI report and the history of law enforcement—is all true. Sadly, I didn’t fabricate any of that. I wish I could write a novel that would change it.
Right now, white supremacy is making a comeback the likes of which I never expected to see. Despite my grandfather’s warnings that it could happen again—most of his extended family died in the Holocaust—I always thought that white supremacy had been permanently driven from political power. This just goes to show my white-person blindness. Ask anyone of color, or who
se Jewish ancestry is obvious in their appearance, and they are not shocked like blue-eyed, blonde-haired me.
But the pendulum has swung us back to a time where nationalism is swelling all over the world again. We need to hold on to our values and our rights.
I hope that my story let you escape from reality for awhile. I know fiction does that for me.
Until next time fair reader.
Be brave,
Emily
About the Author
Emily Kimelman not only writes adventure, she lives it every day. Embodying the true meaning of wanderlust, she's written her Sydney Rye mysteries from all over the world. From the jungles of Costa Rica to the mountains of Spain, she finds inspiration for her stories in her own life.
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Emily’s Bookshelf
Visit www.emilykimelman.com for a complete list.
EMILY KIMELMAN
MYSTERIES & THRILLERS
Sydney Rye Mysteries
Unleashed
Death in the Dark
Insatiable
Strings of Glass
The Devil’s Breath
Inviting Fire
Shadow Harvest
The Girl with the Gun
In Sheep’s Clothing
Flock of Wolves
Betray the Lie
Savage Grace
* * *
Starstruck Thrillers
A Spy is Born
EMILY REED
ROMANCES
The Kiss Chronicles
Lost Secret
Dark Secret
Stolen Secret
The Scorch Series
co-written with Toby Neal
Scorch Road
Cinder Road
Smoke Road
Burnt Road
Flame Road
Smolder Road
A Spy Is Born Page 21