Unraveled (Jersey Girls Book 1)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  Claire had some major groveling to do, but for the first time in a few days, her heart felt lifted. She was about to get her best friend back and find out more about the ring—and the plan.

  Sally threaded her arm through Claire’s. Her excitement was palpable, and she kept pulling Claire to the edge of the sidewalk of Washington Street as she gripped her tighter.

  It had turned out that major groveling was not needed. Sally had forgiven her swiftly and completely with only the barest of apologies. Although Claire had been swept with relief at having her best friend back after the dark, lonely days in her childhood bedroom, she’d also felt guilty. Her dad, the smart one, as always, had been exactly right: it hadn’t been Sally who had been selfish, but herself. When her dad had said the words “all she has ever done is support you,” Claire had flashed back to scenes from her childhood in which Sally had been the star.

  In seventh grade, Shelley Caroll had pulled Claire to the edge of the playground amongst the other “most populars," leaving Sally stranded amongst the regulars. Claire had been ecstatic, assuming that she was getting an invitation to the cool club, and had prepared herself to hear the secrets of the universe. Shelley had leaned over with a conspiratorial whisper, “You really need to stop wearing those pink jeans, Claire. You wear them practically every day and they don’t look that good.” She had stood in front of Shelley dumbly for a few minutes, not sure if there would be more and trying to process why that sentence didn’t sound like an invitation, when Sally had come storming over.

  “What did you just say to her?” Sally had asked, chin jutted a few inches from Shelley’s face. She’d been so brave. Shelley had tried to look dismissive, but you could tell she had been a little scared.

  “I just told her she should try wearing a different outfit. Maybe she'd look better,” Shelley had sniffed.

  Sally had gone bright red and taken yet another step forward, “Yeah, well maybe you should try wearing a different face and maybe you’d look better.” She had then grabbed Claire’s hand and dragged her back to the safe zone in the middle of the playground.

  Yeah, maybe it had been a lame seventh-grade insult, and maybe it didn’t sound like much in the retelling, but that had been just the beginning of many instances of Sally coming to her rescue. She was a self-involved, scatter-brained, slightly vain whirlwind of trouble—and she was Claire’s best friend.

  She tugged on Claire’s arm now and continued her chatter. “So, even if you don’t like them, just act like you do, for me, okay? I mean, I love them, but what do I know about art? I’m like the most ignorant person on the planet when it comes to that stuff. You’re smarter than me, Claire, so I don’t want you to hurt his feelings. In fact, I don’t even want you to tell me if you think they are bad—it would suck too much if you thought that.”

  They were on their way to Sally’s new home. Tod’s loft apartment sat above a small row of shopfronts, one of which was his art studio. His parents had given him the entire building on the day of his college graduation with the understanding that it was all he would be getting. Although very wealthy, they’d had clear rules on what their kids could expect: no help past college graduation. They’d made a single investment in property for each child, and after that, they were on their own. Although Tod was giving Sally time to get herself together after quitting her job, he did expect that she contribute to living expenses. Even without rent to pay, life in Hoboken on a waiter’s wage was a struggle.

  “See, I have a secret plan,” Sally continued. “I was never cut out for that corporate crap, anyway—I am a natural born salesman. You have to admit it.” Claire nodded along to Sally’s monologue while trying to keep her feet on the pavement.

  “So, my plan is to start spending time in the gallery when Tod is working. He doesn’t keep the gallery open past 5:00 pm, now, because he has to work, which in my mind is a total waste. I mean, how many people who can afford to buy art are back in Hoboken from the city before 5:00 pm?”

  They took a right turn off 14th Street, toward the river. Stretching almost the entire block on their left was a gorgeous art deco building with three storefronts on the ground floor. One was a large gallery space with giant, floor to ceiling windows across the front with a glass door in the center. The second space was a trendy vegan café that Claire had visited on occasion for their amazing Sriracha hummus. The third was empty with a For Rent sign out front. Next to the empty storefront was a polished, black door with brass numbers.

  “Up here,” Sally said, putting her key into the door. “So, I was thinking wine evenings, comedy hour, and corporate events. I have so many ideas, Claire, and I know that, with me on the job, Tod won’t be waiting tables much longer. We are going to be like the dynamic duo.”

  Claire looked at her best friend fondly. She was flushed pink with excitement. Sally hadn’t stopped talking since she’d shared the heartbreakingly romantic story of Tod showing up at work, proposing in front of the entire Bitch Clique, and sweeping her into his arms to carry her out of there. It was so romantic—so “Officer and a Gentleman.”

  She was excited for Sally, but she was also sad. Satish’s face kept swimming in front of her eyes, and a few times today, she could have sworn she’d heard his voice. She held onto a fantasy that he had returned from India after divorcing his wife and was hunting her down to throw himself at her feet. No, that wasn’t right—Satish would never throw himself at anyone’s feet. He would formally take her hand and beg for her forgiveness, and she would give it to him. Boy, would she give it to him. She physically ached for him. Sally’s joy, while refreshingly distracting, only made that ache more pronounced.

  They stepped from the dark stairwell into the light of a giant space and Claire gasped. It was stunning. The loft was at least two stories high with the entire back wall as exposed brick. There were two skylights in the distant ceiling above, but they were hardly required, since the floor to ceiling windows of the storefronts below were also here in this gorgeous space. Wide-plank hardwood floors with a sheen of patina covered the entire downstairs space.

  There were no walls or doors on most of the first floor, but just an expanse of cozy, warm living space. In the right corner was an open-plan kitchen with glowing, stainless steel appliances and warm, cherry cabinets. A long, granite island separated the kitchen from the living and dining spaces, and the living room had deep, velvet couches and lots of low tables, most of which were stacked with books and art supplies. The dining/studio space sat directly under one of the skylights, and on the far right towered floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with a door tucked discreetly in the middle. There was another door in the brick wall, and above it, Claire could see that the second story windows overlooked a roof deck covered in plants.

  Tod appeared from this door in his pajamas and raced over to Sally, sweeping her off the floor. “My princess,” he shouted, planting kisses all over her face. He turned to Claire, “Welcome to my humble abode.” He swept his hand across the loft, taking in the entire, far from humble, surroundings. “I hope you like it.” He placed Sally on her feet and looked at her seriously. “Now, Princess, have you told Claire how we are going to change her life?”

  Sally’s pink face got even pinker and she turned to her. “Wait until you hear, Claire. We have a plan.”

  “I think you had better sit down,” said Sally. “This will take a little explaining.” She took Claire by the hand and led her to a downy couch in deep purple velvet and gently pushed her to sit. “Right,” Sally took a deep breath and then looked over to Tod, eyebrows raised.

  “Tea,” Tod said, “I promised I would make tea. He scurried to the kitchen and smiled in their direction as he filled a shiny, red kettle with water. “You guys go ahead.”

  “Here is the deal,” Sally sat on the couch beside Claire, “and I want you to listen to everything first, before you jump all over me. Tod and I have spent a long time working on this, but it takes a bit of imagination. Ready?”

  Claire nodde
d and made the lip-zipping motion with her thumb and forefinger. She was amused and intrigued by Sally’s cloak-and-dagger tone. As she brushed her hand across the velvet cushions, she had a quick but devastating flash of her and Satish setting up a home together. It would be as beautiful as this. Well, no, it wouldn’t be, because apparently Satish had a home with someone else.

  Sally continued, “You need $5,000.” Claire opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly shushed by Sally. “I told you to wait until I was done.” Sally smacked her lightly on her upper arm and Claire fell back against the cushion, silenced.

  “As you know, Tod is an artist—an amazing artist!” Sally smiled over at him, and he smiled back as he waited for the water to boil. “So, I showed him some of your work—not just your scarves and clothes, but also your bags. Based on what Tod has experienced with the Hoboken market, he thinks they will sell like crazy here. I mean, you have piles of this stuff sitting around, Claire, and you also now have tons of time to sew.” Sally looked at Claire to see if she would say anything, but she made the zipping motion again and shrugged.

  “I don’t know if you noticed, but Tod has an open storefront on the first floor. It’s a perfect location for a sexy, little boutique. Now, he can’t just forego the rent, because he needs it to cover building expenses and other stuff, but he can wait for it. So, he is willing to work out a deal with you. You would move in, open, and when you start making revenue, he would take a percentage until you’ve paid off the initial rent. You would then revert to a regular rental agreement. We know you need to be close by and can’t afford to rent an apartment in Hoboken, so he would like to offer you his guest room.” At this, Sally pointed toward the almost-hidden door amongst the wall of bookcases. “Again, this is just until you get on your feet.”

  Claire felt gratitude well up inside her—and a little shame, as well. The entire time she had been stewing over her perceived bad treatment from Sally, Sally and Tod had been dreaming for her. He was walking toward her with a steaming cup of tea, and she turned to him with tears in her eyes.

  “Thank you, Tod. That’s so…”

  Sally jumped all over her. “Wait, wait, you’re not allowed to speak yet! I’m not done!”

  Claire took her tea and turned to look at her best friend through a curtain of steam. “Sorry, Sal,” she said.

  “That’s okay,” she said. “Now, here is the issue: the storefront isn’t ready for use. To make it the funky, trendy, gloriously expensive-looking boutique you want to own will take about $5,000. That’s it.” Sally sat back, picked up her tea, and smiled to herself, as though the matter was cut, dry, and closed. Claire waited for something more, but it seemed she was finished, and on such an odd note.

  Claire put her tea down carefully on the lacquered tray sitting on the deeply-polished coffee table. “You know I don’t have $5,000. I don’t even have $500. All my savings are on lock-down for living expenses. I have no job, remember?”

  “You do have $5,000, Claire. Don’t freak out on me, but it’s sitting in the legal settlement that you deserve. You can’t let Nick get away with treating you like that and lose your job and future income because of it. Maureen will participate, and she has a few other girls who are willing to come forward. Tod and I think you should do it. Maureen has made an appointment with the both of you with HR in a few days.”

  Claire thought about the impact that coming forward would have on Satish. “I can’t do it,” she said.

  Sally sipped her tea and looked over the rim at Claire. She blew at the edges and then lifted her head.

  “I got a call from Phil Harley yesterday,” she said. “It seems that he’s pretty pissed at you.”

  She leaned back in surprise. “Pissed at me? Why? I barely know him!”

  “He found out that Nick presented his BRD to the executive team, and they were floored by the work. Rumor has it that he got a mega bonus.”

  Claire frowned at Sally. “What does that have to do with me, other than the fact that it’s my work he’s stealing, of course. Why would he be pissed at me?”

  Sally put her mug down and grabbed her best friend’s hands. “I don’t think you are thinking clearly. I know that this whole thing has you messed up in the head, but you have to snap out of it. It’s not just your work in that BRD; it’s also Maureen’s work. What would you have done without her? Nick is once again stepping all over her and he doesn’t even know it! It seems that Phil, and I don’t want to speculate why, has been spending a lot of time dealing with a sad, unhinged girl who saw her only chance of redemption go down the drain when you abandoned her.”

  Claire felt as sheepish as she looked, but she spoke, anyway. “Nick said he could also take down Satish.”

  Sally dropped her hand and gave Tod an imploring look. “Seriously?” she said to him. Tod shrugged as if to say, “She’s your best friend—not mine.” She turned to Claire and said, “You owe Satish nothing. Do you hear me? You owe him nothing!”

  It was time to be honest with herself: she had been unfairly dismissed from her job, her work was strong and made Nick look like a superstar, she didn’t get a single penny in severance pay, because she had “resigned” of her own free will, and she owed Maureen big time. Without her, she would have failed miserably. The pain that Maureen had suffered at the hands of Nick made her gross, forced kiss seem like nothing. Yet again, she had been selfish.

  On top of that, no matter how much she wished it, Satish wasn’t here. He wasn’t coming for her. He was in India with his wife. It was time that Claire stood up for the people who had stood by her and made sure that men like Nick couldn’t continue this horrible treatment of others.

  Claire turned to Sally and Tod, who sat expectantly. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll do it!”

  “So, I don’t want you to freak out,” said Maureen, “but I have something to tell you.”

  Maureen and Claire were making their way through a long, thickly-carpeted hallway in the executive wing of Telco. The walls were supposed to be a soothing beige, but they were lit by large blocks of fluorescent lights and had turned a sickly pink. Claire was already feeling distinctly nauseous.

  The last mile, Claire thought. All she knew was that it felt like she was the defendant in a murder trial, or something. She was a non-confrontational girl, but this felt very confrontational.

  “I’m already freaking out, Maureen,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about this nightmare for days.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not this nightmare that I don’t want you to freak out about,” Maureen said, cutting off Claire’s military march by stepping in front of her and grabbing her arms. She came to a stumbling halt, not having realized that she had been walking so fast.

  “Maureen!” she hissed.

  She was not in the mood to have a heart to heart right at this moment; she wanted to get into the HR office and get this over with. She still couldn’t quite believe that she was going ahead with this. After speaking with her dad about this, he had strongly approved, but had expressed serious doubts about proceeding without a lawyer. He had even offered to cash in one of his 401K accounts to try to get one, but Claire had explained that it would defeat the purpose. There was no point in forking out thousands for a lawyer when all she needed was $5,000, which amounted to about two months’ salary. That was a fair severance package, in her eyes. All Maureen wanted was her long-promised promotion. Of course, they both wanted Nick to be fired, but beyond that, they weren’t planning on a civil suit, or anything.

  Claire looked to the end of the long hallway. It looked like that scene from Willy Wonka before they entered the factory. The open door to the HR office seemed impossibly far away, and she wondered faintly if she were having a heart attack. She could see a few tall, scary-looking, well-dressed men milling about and figured they were the company lawyers. Would they rake her and Maureen over the coals and demand embarrassing secrets? She was still worried about how she was going to avoid the subject of Satish in this discussion. Because s
he didn’t want him involved, she had been feverishly working on answers that kept him out of it.

  “Earth to Claire!” Maureen snapped her fingers in front of Claire’s face.

  She jumped and hissed, “What?”

  “I said: I don’t want you to freak out, but I have something I think is important for you to know before you go in there.” Claire nodded for her to continue. “Satish was in the office yesterday… with his wife.”

  “What?” Claire’s stomach dropped through that expensive, plush carpeting to the floor below. Her vision even went a little hazy, and Maureen grabbed her harder, looking concerned.

  “Don’t faint! For God’s sake, Claire! I am only telling you this because I want you to stop worrying about him before we go into that meeting. All I heard from Phil when we were working on that BRD was ‘Satish is so great this’ and ‘Satish is so great that,’ but that’s where Phil and I differ in opinion. Listen, as far as I am concerned, Satish is no better than Nick. He led me on and didn’t tell me he was married, and Satish did the same thing to you.”

  Claire shook her head vehemently. “No he didn’t, Maureen, really, it’s not the same thing. We were friends, and then it got weird, and then he told me he loved me, but nothing ever happened. He didn’t break his vows, or anything. He was clear that there were complications. Oh God, what was his wife like? What did she say?”

  She tried to calm her wild thoughts by looking down at the ugly carpet and gripping hard onto the purse hanging from her shoulder with both hands. The thought that Satish was in the country again and maybe in this building was making her heart race. What Maureen was saying wasn’t true: Satish had never meant to lead her on. What happened between them just happened, and she couldn’t blame him for the way she felt then and now. It seemed out of their control.