The NYCE Girls!

by Raquel Belle

  Chapter One

  Jasmine

  I walk into the coffee shop and inhale a lungful of the cinnamon flavor in the air—leftovers from Thanksgiving. It’s always a pleasant feeling walking into this place, our coffee shop. I step in too quickly though, forgetting the bags I’m carrying. I get stuck when the door closes on them, and I snap back like a rubber band, banging my elbow in the process.

  “Oh, let me help you with that, Jazz,” Chrissy—one of the regular baristas—says as she hurries over to help me.

  I’m a regular at this coffee shop. Even the manager and I are on a first name basis, as well as some of the other frequent-fliers.

  I smile at her. “Oh, I’ve got it, Chrissy.”

  “No, you don’t,” she insists and takes the bags from me. I let her. Why not? She won’t let me do otherwise. “The other girls are already here and waiting.”

  “On no!” I say in disbelief and blow a raspberry. “I tried so hard to get here early, but you know how it is this time of year.”

  “I know, right?” Chrissy says, as she whips her head around, her dark ponytail swishing and rubbing against her neck. “The tips are great, but work’s a bitch.”

  “You’ll be out of here in no time,” I say to her, rubbing her forearm like a mom as I reassure her. She smiles broadly at me, and her grey eyes twinkle with appreciation. “How’s night school going?”

  “It’s going. Doing my best,” she says and nods her head like she’s trying to convince herself to hang in there. We get to the table and she sets the bags down next to the empty seat that’s mine. “Okay, here you are.”

  “Jasmine Taylor, late? What’s the world coming to?” Cara says and flutters her eyes like she has dust in them or something. She’s a lot happier lately—much more than usual—thanks to the stud she’s fallen hard for—Jason Levine. And it’s about time. A few months ago she was brooding about how old she was and that her younger sister, Laura, was getting hitched before her. Her luck has drastically changed since then.

  Aside from that, her legal practice is booming. What more can a girl—or her friends—ask for?

  “One more word, missy, and you forfeit your gift,” I say to her, as I remove my coat and hang it on the back of the chair.

  “Hey, Jazz,” Beth says and leans over to hug me.

  “Hey, hun,” I say and rub her back. “This is how you greet someone,” I say to Cara who waves me off.

  “You know Cara…” Grace says and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “I thought I did,” I say while I give Cara a quick squeeze. “But since this Jason character…” I click my tongue. “I don’t know. She’s a changed woman.”

  Cara blushes. “Oh, shut up, Jazz,” she says and giggles. “I’m still the same person…more or less.”

  “Unlike Beth,” I say and kick Beth’s leg under the table.

  “Ow!” Beth howls. “What?”

  “No phones, woman,” I say and point at her. “This is our time.”

  Beth rolls her eyes and places her phone on her lap. “Happy?”

  “Yes,” I say to her and rub my hands to rid myself of the frigid New York air that’s still clinging to me.

  “I’m really looking forward to Christmas,” Grace smiles.

  “I fail to see what’s new about that,” Cara says, feigning boredom. “You’re easily excitable.”

  “Sue me! Grinch,” Grace says.

  “Be careful,” I say. “She might.”

  We all explode in giggles, and Cara folds her arms across her chest, attempting to stifle the smile that clearly wants to burst onto her face. She actually had threatened to sue a newspaper a couple of weeks ago because they’d printed some defamatory comments about Jason. Jason told her to let it go because it wasn’t a big deal, but after Cara turned up the heat, they’d issued a full retraction.

  “You think you’re funny, huh?”

  “God, I hope not,” I say. “So, what’re we drinking? Lattes or something else?”

  “Why don’t we exchange gifts first, hmm?” Grace says anxiously, as she eyes my bags.

  “Calm down, missy,” I say and slap her hand away, while she tries to sneak a peek.

  “Ow,” she cries and pulls back her hand. “So catty.”

  “I agree with Grace,” Cara says and leans over me to check out the bag too.

  “I swear, you’re all like teenagers, still!” I say and roll my eyes. “What about you, Beth? Gifts now? Or later?”

  “Huh?” Beth says, as she hurriedly looks up and blushes. “What?”

  “You…want…to…open…gifts…now?” Cara imitates a robot, as if Beth is incapable of following the conversation.

  Beth puts the phone back onto her lap and rubs her palms together like the crooks in Home Alone. “Yep. I’m curious to know what you got me this year. And if it makes you feel any better,” she says and reaches under the table, “you can check out what I got for you all, too.”

  I shake my head and relent. “Fine.” I pick up the bags and place them on the table. “Have at it.”

  The words are barely out of my mouth before they’re rummaging around searching for the ones with their names on it, passing them around to each other.

  “This is a pretty small box,” Cara says and grins. “I like small boxes.”

  I rest my chin on the back of my hands, as I watch them opening their gifts. This is one of the highlights of my life—meeting the girls at the coffee shop. It doesn’t matter what our day, week, or life is like—once we get together, nothing else matters. We laugh together, cry together, and support each other through it all.

  I’m not sure what I’d do or even be without them. We have a sort of co-dependency that might be classified as psychotic in some circles, but who cares? It works for us.

  “Oh, thank you, thank you,” Cara screams as she holds up the charm bracelet from Pandora. She’s been talking about it for months. She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes.

  I fake cough. “Killing me…”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Seeing Cara’s gift spurs everyone to open their boxes. Grace and Beth rip excitedly into theirs. Grace looks up first, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as she waves a card at me. “This is a gift card from Perigold,” she says, as her eyes glisten with tears.

  “What?!” Beth gawks, as she pulls the card from Grace’s fingertips. “Perigold? That expensive furniture store?”

  “Well, you have your own PR firm now. Thought you might want some fancy furniture and accessories,” I say and shrug. “It’s what all my clients use, so…”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Grace reaches across the table to hug me. She plants several kisses on my face, and I’m sure she’s leaving lipstick smudges in her wake.

  “It’s fine, really,” I say. “I got a big bonus, so, I’m sharing.”

  “What did you get?” Cara asks Beth.

  “I’m afraid to look,” Beth says, and we laugh when we see her hands shaking.

  “I’ll look for you,” Cara says and takes the gift from Beth. Cara tears off the wrapping, her eyes focused, with the charms on her wrists sparkling from the light hanging over our table. “Oh,” she says and grins, “it’s a copy of your first front page headliner.” She hands back the gift to Beth.

  “You really thought about everything, didn’t you?” Beth says tearfully, as she takes the plaque from Cara.

  “There’s more…” I whisper.

  Her eyes widen, and she reaches for the envelope Cara’s handing her. “Wow. Dinner for two at Le Bernardin.”

  “My gift to both you and Anthony,” I say. Anthony’s her new beau and one-time rival from when they chased headlines. But, as of a few days ago…they’re chasing something else entirely. And now I’m the only one without a significant other—go figure. Not that I’ve been hunting. I’ve been pretty happy chasing my career dreams. But when you’re the only one left, it makes it too damn obvious.

  “Thank you,” Beth says. She clears he
r throat and clutches it as her emotions seem to get the better of her.

  Grace laughs. “Okay, does anyone else feel crappy about sharing what they brought?”

  “I do,” Cara says and waves her hand. Her charms catch her eyes, and she groans. “God, this is the best gift ever! No offense guys.”

  “None taken,” Grace says, quickly.

  “I don’t really care for gifts, you all know that,” I tell them. “Everything I need is right here.”

  “Aww!” Cara croons and rubs her cheek against mine and puckers. “We wuv you, too.”

  “Does that include you, Beth?” I ask, as I reach over and confiscate her phone. “I know you’re all lovey and mushy now, young love and all, but this is our time. Anthony can wait a couple of minutes, right?”

  “Right…” she says and tries to take her phone back. “Just let me tell him I’m done…”

  She’s texting him. I glance at the screen and read aloud, “Can’t wait to see you. I’m going to love taking off what I bought you.”

  “Come on, Jazz!” Beth blushes and then snickers. “Give it here. Seriously…”

  “I’d prefer to be wearing nothing in the first place,” I keep reading, as the table erupts into laughter.

  Beth giggles and takes the phone as I hand it to her. “Okay, that’s enough,”

  “You’re getting that nasty with all of us here?” Grace laughs and wipes the corners of her eyes. “Classic. But get your groove on, sister.”

  We spend the next couple of minutes exchanging gifts, and chatting excitedly about Christmas.

  “So, you’re really going back home this year?” Grace asks, after Chrissy brings the lattes, and we finish packing away our gifts.

  I nod my head and sip. “What else am I going to do? Cara’s headed to Boston with Jason… Grace has Nick, and you, Beth, have a hot date with Anthony. Doesn’t leave me with much choice.” Their faces fall as they commiserate. “No, no!” I exclaim and point at them one at a time. “Are those pity faces? Guys! I’m going home for Christmas. Not prison!”

  Cara covers her mouth and laughs. “You’re right. It’s not that bad.”

  “Thank you. And…I haven’t been back in a while so the visit is really long overdue. You all know I’ve been planning it for…like…half the year.”

  “Hello? What’s the name of the town? Willow Creek, Tennessee?” Grace says and scrunches up her face. “I’m sorry, but I can’t think about how fun that can be. It’s why you left, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say and rock my head from side to side. “But that doesn’t mean the town doesn’t have its charms.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter,” Beth says. “It’s not like you’re going back to live there. It’s just the holidays, and then you’re right back here with the rest of us.”

  “Maybe you’ll even find a man,” Cara says, suggestively, as she wiggles her brows and bites her lower lip.

  “Please…” I say and blow through my mouth. “You went to a wedding and met a sexy, construction worker slash engineer slash billionaire. What are the odds I’ll find anything more than old geezers in the boondocks?”

  Grace snorts. “Why do you make it sound like that?”

  “Like what? You were right. That’s why I left. There’s no life in Willow Creek. Just the same things over and over again.” I slap my hand to my forehead. “God, now you have me overthinking it.”

  Cara giggles. “But like you said, it’s Christmas with your family. You were there, what, three years ago? It wasn’t that bad, right?”

  I look at her through the fingers splayed over my face. “No, not really. But it’s Christmas. I feel like I’m going to be lonely or something.”

  “And since when is the almighty Jasmine I-don’t-need-a-man-to-be-happy Taylor concerned about being lonely?” Beth says, as she narrows her eyes.

  I sigh. “You’re right. You’re right! God dammit! It’s going to be a great Christmas. I’m not sure what Mom’s planning, but she’s been bugging me all year to come home.”

  “Well then in that case I think it’s going to be great! I really liked hanging out with your mom that time she visited,” Grace says and smiles broadly. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be back on the second.”

  “What? That’s three weeks…” Beth says. “I’m barely getting Christmas Day off.”

  I shrug. “What can I say? Perks of working with rich people. Most of them will be overseas on some exotic vacation for the holidays. And if they need me, I can work remotely.”

  “I’m beginning to think I need to change careers,” Beth says.

  “And give up all that talking that you love so much?” Grace says.

  Beth snickers. “Maybe I’ll get to be Chief Editor one day, and then I could work remotely.”

  I laugh. “That’s the spirit.”

  “So, this is it, I guess, until after the holidays,” I say. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

  “Now who’s making it sound like they’re going to prison?” Grace says and locks her hand under her chin, as she peers at me through intense, forest green eyes.

  “What? No, that’s not what I’m saying. I meant that we usually spend our Christmases together. I haven’t been home for Christmas in years.”

  “I know,” Grace says and leans her head against my shoulder.

  “You know,” I say, “I don’t think we should change that fact, even if we get hitched.” I point my index finger like I’m in court and giving my closing statement.

  “Uh,” Cara says, “might not be so easy.”

  I stare blankly at her. “Having a man doesn’t mean we should forego our traditions.” The other eyes that stare at me don’t seem to agree. “Right?”

  “I think she’s had too much caffeine,” Beth says and pushes my cup away from me slowly, as if I’ll lunge and try to get it back like an addict on the verge of losing her fix.

  “Give me that!” I say and snatch it back, laughing as I do. “I’m not crazy.”

  Cara giggles. “Jury’s still out on that. But, we’ll always have time for each other. Maybe in different ways, but we’ll always be The Nyce Girls,” she says, winking. “In fact, I’m going to change the name of our group chat!”

  I laugh. “I can’t believe you remember that! You’re right. Ignore what I just said. And on that note, I think I need to get home and finish getting myself together. I have a flight in the morning.”

  “Yeah,” Beth says and holds up her phone. “I have to leave, too.”

  We belly laugh so hard the other customers around us show signs of annoyance. “Shh,” I whisper to the girls. “They’re going to throw us out one day.”

  “Not this year,” Beth says.

  I stand and slide my coat off the chair, and it’s then that I notice they’re all wearing the same thing. “Where’d you all get that sweater top?”

  “How observant of you…” Cara says.

  Grace grins. “Macy’s had a sale.”

  “Oh. Okay, I’m going now,” I say and arch my brows. “You look like cheerleaders.”

  “I got one for you, too,” Beth says. “It’s in the bag, so welcome to the squad.”

  I laugh. “Good night, ladies.”

  “Wait for me,” Beth says. She jumps up and grabs her coat.

  “Merry Christmas when it comes,” I call to Chrissy, as I’m leaving.

  “You too, Jazz.”

  “You need a ride?” I ask Beth, as we head into the bitter cold. The freezing weather makes me long for home. It never snows in Willow Creek, and the coldest it gets is probably fifty-five.

  She pulls her coat tighter around her and squints as the icy breeze claws at us. “No, Anthony said he’d pick me up. He’s over on Eighth.”

  “Okay. I’m going to grab a cab. Talk to you later,” I say, and give her a quick peck on the cheek before I hurry off to the closest yellow and black on wheels I can see.

  I sink into the worn leather seat as the car inches along
in traffic. I lean against the head rest and sigh, heavily. It’s been a long year, and for the next three weeks, I’ll have nothing to do in a town that will make it all too easy.

  It’s not a bad deal. Willow Creek is what you call a dot on a dot in a small town, and it’s everything you’d expect out of a small town—everyone knows everyone, and there’s only one of everything.

  It’s a lot different than the life I’ve built in New York over the ten years since I’ve been gone. This is all skyscrapers, vulgar conversations, impatient pedestrians and motorists, and way too many traffic lights. I groan when I see the row of red lights as we hit Flatbush Avenue.

  Willow Creek will be a refreshing break from all of this, and I begin to smile as anticipation swells in my chest.

  Chapter Two

  Jasmine

  The air is a lot cleaner and crisper as I step through the revolving glass doors at Terminal three. I already feel a lot lighter, having left all of my work and cares behind.

  I’m home, and it feels good.

  Well, almost home.

  I’m at the Nashville International Airport, and home is still another forty-minute drive away, but it’s close enough.

  I wheel my luggage onto the pavement and stand along the curb, like all the other passengers, watching the cars that approach, hoping the next one will be mine. Mom has a charcoal-grey Prius, so I watch all the dark-colored cars as they drive up.

  “Come on, Mom,” I mutter to myself as I begin to get restless. Fifteen minutes pass and…nothing. She’d confirmed she was on her way right before we began our descent. It shouldn’t take her this long to get here.

  Another ten minutes go by and I’m really anxious. Something must have happened to her. I begin to get fidgety and nervous, so I take out my phone and call her.

  “Hi sweetheart,” she answers, promptly.

  “Mom, are you okay? Where are you?”

  “I’m almost where you are,” she says, cheerily. “Oh, I see you.”

  “Where?” I search the incoming cars for the Prius. I’m so caught up with searching down the line that I totally miss the car that pulls up right in front of me.

  “Honey!” I hear Mom’s voice calling, and I look in front of me. Sure enough, Mom’s head peeks out, and she’s waving at me from Old Blue, dad’s 1957 Chevy Corvette.