Amy smiled, remembering that Jeremiah had planned the honeymoon, and he’d wanted everything to be a surprise. By the tone of Sharlene’s voice, it looked like he’d pulled it off. “That’s great. Are you tanned and glowing now?”
Sharlene chuckled. “A bit. At least, the parts of me that aren’t sunburnt are!”
Amy winced. “No fun. Take aloe next time.”
“He packed for me, remember? I was lucky he remembered to pack clothes!”
“I don’t need to know these things,” Amy teased, settling onto her plum sofa and putting her feet up on the coffee table. “But I’m glad you had fun.”
“What have you been up to?”
Amy took a bite of cold Chow Mein. “Work. The usual.”
“Have you made any more jewelry?”
Amy hesitated. “I’ve been busy,” she finally admitted. “Why?”
“Just an idea I had. Roxy’s organizing an arts and crafts fair in the fall, and I thought it would be a cool place for you to sell your stuff.”
Amy grimaced at the mention of the innkeeper. “No, thanks,” she said, “sounds like too much hassle.”
“You’re really good. You should sell the stuff, if not up here, than at a boutique or something there.”
“I’ve already got a job, remember? And we’re not in college anymore; there’s no point dreaming about a career that won’t pay the bills.”
“I don’t know, Ames. You’ve got a gift. I’ll bet you could actually make good money selling your stuff.”
Amy glanced around her apartment. It wasn’t glamorous or huge, but it wasn’t a studio; she’d finally been able to afford a place with an actual door on her bedroom thanks to her latest promotion. “I don’t have time,” she said truthfully. “Not if I want to keep my job.”
“Fine. But I still think you should think about it.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Good.” Sharlene sounded brighter. “We can talk about it more when I come to visit.”
Amy stared at the phone in surprise. “You’re coming to the city?”
“Yup. That is, if I can crash on your couch. Jeremiah has to go on a business trip, and I figured that’s the perfect time for me to get down there and spend some time with you. It was good to see you at the wedding, but I’m looking forward to some one-on-one time.”
Amy grinned, her shoulders relaxing. “That sounds good to me. When are you coming?”
“Is next week okay?”
“It’s kind of short notice for me to take any time off work…”
“I don’t need a babysitter; I’m sure there’s lots to keep me occupied until you get done in the evening!”
Amy didn’t want to tell her that most evenings she ended up working until the night cleaning crew came in and kicked her out. “If you’re sure,” she began hesitantly.
“Of course! I’ll take the train.” Sharlene paused, her excitement crackling over the line. “It’ll be just like old times, roomie.”
***
Sharlene got into town with a pack of maple syrup candies and a bottle of red wine. “Hostess gifts, Vermont style,” she said with a wink as she handed the goodies to Amy.
Amy rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, remembering her banter with Sean during the wine tour. “Don’t you ever get tired of living somewhere so…country?”
“Don’t you ever get tired of living somewhere so city?” Sharlene countered, dragging her bag across the floor and dropping it next to the couch.
Amy shrugged. “I’ve always liked being in the city.” That wasn’t strictly true, but there was no reason for Sharlene to know that when Amy’d first moved there after college, she’d pretty much cried herself to sleep every night for a month. At the time, she’d hated everything about New York, from the crush of people to her crummy job as a clerk. But now that she’d landed a dream job and a better apartment, Amy mostly loved living there. The moments where she wondered what it would be like to see the stars on a regular basis, like at Sharlene’s wedding, were few and far between, and Amy didn’t allow herself to dwell on them.
Sharlene flopped down on the purple couch. “So,” she said with a smile, “what are we going to do first?”
Amy perched on the arm of the sofa. “I’ve got the rest of the day off, but I couldn’t skip tomorrow; there’s a big meeting in the morning, and they want all the partners to be there.”
“That just means we’ve got to pack in the fun this afternoon. Can we see a show?” Sharlene leaned forward eagerly, and Amy chuckled.
“If you like. Although we stand a better chance at getting good seats on Thursday, from what I’ve heard.”
“You don’t go to shows all the time?”
Amy shook her head. “I can count on one hand the number of Broadway productions I’ve seen since I moved here…and two of those were business schmoozes to impress prospective clients.”
“Oh.” Sharlene frowned. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Not really my thing, but I want to make sure you have fun.” Amy paused. “What have you done the other times you’ve been here?”
Sharlene looked down at her hands, fiddling with her wedding band. “Well…this is actually my first trip.”
Amy gaped at her. “Seriously?”
“Hey, we can’t all be big city girls!”
Amy shook her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize! We’ll do anything you want this week, including sitting through the corniest musical on the planet, if that’s what you want.”
Sharelene smiled. “But we’re saving that for Thursday.” She paused. “Would it be too stupid to say I want to see the Empire State building?”
Amy stood up. “One tour of the observation deck, coming right up!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sean hadn’t expected Amy to stick around for long after the wedding, but when he sauntered over to the inn the next morning, he’d half hoped she’d still be there, breathlessly waiting for him on the porch like something out of a bad movie. She wasn’t, of course, and a quick glance at the parking lot told him that the BMW with New York plates wasn’t anywhere in sight.
Pushing down a surge of disappointment, he headed around to the barn. He’d promised Roxy he’d help her clean up once the wedding was over, and even though he was still mad at her for the fire alarm stunt, he wasn’t mad enough to back out of a promise. Besides, it wasn’t worth staying mad at anyone in the small town for long; sooner or later, somebody would need a favor, and feuds didn’t last long when people were constantly swapping to-do lists and helping out like something out of a T.V. sitcom. It was one of the few things about small-town living that Sean actually enjoyed.
The barn was empty, and it didn’t take him long to stack all the chairs, break down the folding tables, and pick up the worst of the trash scattered across the floor. By eleven, Sean was headed away from the inn in Roxy’s jeep. She let him borrow it whenever he needed to work, and Sean was grateful; he’d rather save up for a new guitar than a car any day, and as long as he stayed on his sister’s good side, that dream looked like it would be possible any day.
Even though he wanted to spend every waking moment with a guitar in his hands, the reality of it was his weekend gigs at The Desert paid almost enough to cover rent, but not quite. So, three or four times a week, he delivered pizzas and sandwiches for the deli the next town over. Business was usually slow on Mondays, but Sean didn’t mind. He was pretty good at killing time without actually doing anything, and he was leaning across the counter of the empty deli, his thoughts drifting, when his cell phone rang. The call was from an unfamiliar number, and for a moment, Sean debated picking it up. Glancing at the front door in case his manager decided to put in an unscheduled appearance, Sean answered quickly.
“Sean? It’s Eric. Long time!”
Sean grinned. “You’re not kidding! What, you move to the big city and you forget how to use a phone?” Eric had been one of his best friends g
rowing up, and one of his former band mates. After the band broke up and Sean fell apart, Eric had surprised everybody by graduating with honors, hitting the community college the next town over, and then moving to New York.
Eric chuckled. “Something like that. Look, I need a favor. You still playing?”
Sean sucked in his breath. “Yeah. Just covers, though.”
“That’s fine. I got a new job tending bar at this great little club, and our opening act just quit.”
“Rough.”
“Doesn’t have to be. I told my boss I knew a guy who’d play for cheap, and he gave me the go-ahead to have you come and play a trial gig.”
Sean raised his eyebrow. “How cheap are we talking?”
“The last band had a three-way split, and we paid them eight hundred a night. I told him you’d do it for three.”
Sean stared at the phone in disbelief. “That’ll barely cover my cost for getting all the way down there and back.”
Eric sounded apologetic. “Look, I know it’s not much, but it’s a foot in the door. If he likes you, you could be playing every weekend, Thursday through Sunday. And you’d get to keep your tips.”
“Where am I going to find a place to stay for cheap on the weekends in New York?”
Eric chuckled. “Don’t tell me your chick magnet mojo has finally worn off.”
Sean thought of the feeling of Amy’s body in his arms, and he smiled. “Not by a long shot.”
“Then just turn on that charm. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of girls begging to take you home after the show.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “I’m not a man-whore, you know. I don’t go home with just anybody.”
“Whatever. Dude, I’m telling you this could turn into a pretty sweet deal. Aren’t you tired of playing for bears and skiers?”
Sean glanced around the deserted deli. “When’s the audition?”
“Two weeks from Thursday. If you can’t find anywhere to stay before then, you can always crash with me.”
“I might just take you up on that,” Sean said slowly. “You’re sure your boss is okay with covers?”
“Sure. But if you wanted to write some new material, I bet he’d be game for that, too.”
Sean forced a tight laugh. “Not likely.”
There was silence for a moment. Finally, Eric sighed.
“Look, I know you were kind of a mess for a while—“
“I’m fine,” Sean said, talking over him, but Eric kept right on going.
“But that was years ago, man! Don’t you remember how great it felt to sing those brand new lyrics for the first time?”
“Drop it,” Sean said, “or you won’t get your favor.”
“Fine,” Eric said. “I’m just saying you’re good is all. But covers will be good enough for The Haven.” He paused. “So I’ll see you Thursday?”
He wanted to say no; as soon as Eric mentioned songwriting, his interest in the job flew right out the window. But then he remembered that Amy lived somewhere in New York, and his lips curved into a tentative smile. It might mean another chance to get with her, he thought as he checked the calendar. Finally, he nodded. “I’m in,” he told Eric. “And thanks.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Even though it was the middle of the week, there was still a long wait to get up to the top of the Empire State building, and Amy had to bite back a snarky comment about the sea of tourists. Sharlene was practically bouncing with anticipation, and by the time they made it to the observation deck, Amy had to admit that she’d caught some of Sharlene’s enthusiasm. Even the elevator doors were iconic, sporting the gold and black Art Deco outline of the building, and Amy’s pulse began to race when the doors slid open to reveal the beautiful skyline. In all the time she’d lived in New York, she’d never been up there, and as the wind whipped a few strands of her hair loose from her carefully constructed French Twist, she leaned over the edge with a sense of heady anticipation.
“This is crazy!” Sharlene said with a smile, gesturing to the city spread out beneath them. “I feel like a god or something!”
Amy laughed. “I know what you mean,” she admitted. “It’s different up here. Like we hit pause on our lives and now we’re floating above it all.”
Sharlene glanced at her perceptively. “You hadn’t been up here before, had you?”
Embarrassed, Amy shrugged. “It seemed too touristy,” she admitted, hoping she irritate her friend with the admission.
To her relief, Sharlene just laughed. “What’s wrong with being a tourist?”
Amy turned away, putting a couple of quarters into one of the huge pairs of silver binoculars mounted on the railing so she didn’t have to look at Sharlene while she spoke. “I don’t know. I was going to live here, you know? I figured I’d better start off acting like I belonged here instead of like I was just visiting.”
“Why did you move here, anyway? I thought for sure you were going to go to Europe or something and become a street artist.”
Amy made way for Sharlene to look at the city through the viewer. “My aunt got me my first job. Well,” she amended, “I guess her husband did. He worked for the bank, and my aunt badgered him until he got me in as a clerk.”
Sharlene glanced away from the binoculars to study Amy’s face. “Was it weird, working with your uncle?”
Amy smiled faintly. “Not my uncle. That was my aunt’s…second? Maybe third husband. I’ve lost track. I never saw him at work, and by the time my aunt had invited me over for dinner, he’d already been replaced.”
Sharlene shook her head. “Sounds like she’s quite the witch. But I still don’t get it. Didn’t you want the job?”
Amy paused, her walls going up as she cinched the belt on her gray trench coat a little tighter. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it? I didn’t have anything else lined up, and at least it gave me a direction.” And it wasn’t like I could move home.
“But you had a direction! Seriously, out of all of us, you’re the one I was sure would actually find a way to make your dreams a reality. Every semester in college you managed to cram in more studio time than you spent on the rest of your classes combined.”
Uncomfortable, Amy looked away, her eyes skimming the tops of the buildings below. “Dreams can change, right?”
“I guess,” Sharlene admitted. “But you still could do something with your jewelry.”
Amy smiled tightly, wishing her friend would drop it. “I am doing something with it; I still make it, right? And I’ve sold a few pieces here and there online.”
Sharlene shook her head. “But you could be doing so much more! I bet you could start up a business if you really wanted to; I’d buy more of your designs, and I know the girls would, too.”
At the mention of Sharlene’s friends, Amy’s smile slipped even more. “Well, I don’t want to. I’ve got a good job, a good life, and there’s no reason to risk all that just so I can play with wire and beads.” And I’m starting to regret ever making that piece for you; I should have known better than to give it to somebody I know.
Sharlene held up her hands. “Okay, okay, sorry. I’ll drop it.” Turning away to survey the city again, she muttered, “I didn’t realize how much you’d changed.”
The words stung, but Amy pretended not to hear them. “Come on,” she said, forcing a chipper tone, “there’s still time to do something else touristy this afternoon. Where can I take you next?”
***
The conversation didn’t shift to “what ifs” or “could haves” again, and as Amy gradually let her walls down, she actually started to enjoy shepherding Sharlene around the city. They spent a good deal of time wandering around the shops and boutiques in Nolita, the neighborhood north of Little Italy, and Sharlene’s excitement as she dug through designer scarves and bold, beautiful bags started to rub off on Amy. She wasn’t usually much of a shopper, but at Sharlene’s insistence, she picked up a cream and peach silk scarf and wrapped it around her neck.
Sha
rlene clapped. “That’s perfect with your hair,” she said with a smile.
Amy shrugged. “I couldn’t wear it at work; too casual.”
Sharlene lifted one eyebrow. “Don’t you have a life outside of work?”
The truth was she didn’t, but Amy wasn’t willing to admit that. “Maybe,” she said, checking her reflection again. The scarf really did compliment her blond hair and fair skin, and there was something secretly romantic about the way the soft fabric felt against her throat. “Why not?” Amy finally said, forking over her credit card and letting the clerk wrap up the scarf. Sharlene bought a new purse, and insisted on dumping the contents of her old one into it before they left the store.
Slipping her arm through Amy’s, Sharlene tugged her along, pointing out various people and cool looking shops with a level of enthusiasm that Amy envied. They passed a salon which was advertising a 50% off sale for first time customers, and Sharlene paused, eyeing Amy critically.
“How long is your hair now?”
Amy shrugged, touching her head self-consciously to make sure none of her mane had escaped. “Long, I guess.”
Sharlene jerked her head toward the salon. “We should get makeovers. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Amy hesitated. “I don’t want to do anything too drastic. I’ve got to keep it professional for work.”
“Come on,” Sharlene wheedled, “maybe just a trim. Or some highlights.”
Amy glanced at her phone. “Not today. Don’t you want dinner?”
Sharlene looked back at the salon, but she let Amy tug her away. “Can we come back before I leave?”
“Sure,” Amy said, even though she didn’t plan on getting a makeover. “If you want.”
Sharlene brightened. “That gives me time to convince you that it’d be fun.”
Amy shook her head with a smile. “You have a strange definition of fun. Now,” she said, changing the subject, “what did you want to do for your first New York meal?”
“Is it too cliché to say pizza?”
Amy laughed. “Yes.”
Sharlene pretended to pout. “But I’m the guest!”
They were both giggling as Amy lead the way to a little pizza place on the corner. “Now, I have no idea if things are good here,” she admitted, but Sharlene just marched up to the counter.
Cutting Loose Page 6
