by Lang Leav
Across the table, Jess had her eyes shut and was making kissing motions with her lips.
I threw a french fry at her. It missed and fell on the floor at Jonesy’s feet.
“Girls,” he shot us a look of disapproval, “we don’t want a repeat of last week, do we?”
“Sorry, Jonesy,” we said in unison, looking down at our plates. The week before, Jess and I inadvertently had started a food fight in the café. She threw a ketchup packet at me for teasing her about Haden, the hot professor whom she was still weirdly tight-lipped about. To retaliate, I threw a cherry tomato at her. She ducked, and the tomato sailed across to the next table, striking a little old lady right between the eyes. She flew into a rage, pitching her half-eaten tart in my direction. Her aim was terrible, and it hit the guy behind me. Then it was pandemonium, with everyone flinging food at each other. In the ensuing chaos, we tried to sneak out, but Jonesy grabbed us. “Oh no you don’t. You’ve done the crime; now you do the time.” We spent the rest of the day scrubbing dishes, floors, walls—everything. The place had never looked so spotless.
“We were just talking about Verity’s new boyfriend,” said Jess.
“I see. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Sebastian, but we call him Sash. He’s really nice. You’d like him.”
Jonesy dramatically gripped his chest. “I think my heart just broke.”
“Aw, Jonesy. You know Jess is still available.”
“That’s right,” Jess winked at him. “Not all is lost.”
He grinned. “By the way, I have something for you.” He took a notepad out of his back pocket and put it down on the table.
“Is that your diary, Jonesy?”
“It’s the notepad I used when I was in New York years back, before I opened up Last Chance. I wrote little notes about the places I went to—thought it could come in handy since you guys are going there.” Jonesy looked like he was already regretting his decision.
I flipped through the notepad, and my eyes lit up. “Jonesy, this is fantastic!”
“You are such a sweetheart,” Jess agreed.
He beamed at us, then went to serve a group of exchange students.
“Wow, look, he’s even drawn little maps.”
“And reviewed every place he’s been to.”
“He uses carrots instead of stars! That is so Jonesy.”
“Egg & Yolk got five carrots—let’s have brunch there!”
At the back of the notebook, I caught sight of the words LAST CHANCE CAFÉ - RENT with figures scrawled beside it in blue and red pen. There was a lot more red than blue.
“Looks like poor Jonesy is struggling to keep this place afloat.” I felt sad.
“Greedy landlords! Mum looked into it for him, but there’s nothing he can do.”
“If this place goes bust, I am going to cry.”
“Same! There’s nowhere else to go around here.”
Jess reached across the table, grabbing a handful of fries from my plate. “How was dinner at Marcia’s?”
“Oh, it was great! Marcia’s really nice and easygoing. Her roommate is so cool. Get this—she’s a fortune teller!”
“No kidding? Did she give you a reading?”
I nodded and gave Jess a quick summary. “She said I was going to be famous. She saw me surrounded by crowds of people.”
“Didn’t I tell you that was going to happen? It’s written in the stars!”
I grinned. “You sure did, my friend. Oh, also, Marcia and I had an interesting chat about Penelope.”
Jess made a face. “My favorite person.”
“How are things between you two at Deep Sea Diver?”
“Well”—Jess crinkled her brow—“to be honest, I’m not sure what to make of Penelope. The other day she brought in cupcakes—you’ve never seen cupcakes like these.” She cast a furtive glance at Jonesy and lowered her voice. “I mean, Jonesy’s cupcakes are divine, but the ones Penelope had were on a whole other level.”
Jess continued. “They looked like they were made by angels—each one a masterpiece. She was handing them out around the office, and I thought, no way in hell would I get one. We haven’t been on speaking terms since the blowup at Mechanical Mango. But she popped one on my desk.”
“That was nice of her,” I admitted.
“Everyone adores her at Deep Sea Diver—apparently she’s Mother Teresa. From the stories I’ve heard anyway.”
“You mean all that volunteer stuff?”
“Exactly. How can anyone who saves the lives of innocent kittens be evil? Maybe she’s just blinded by her jealousy when it comes to Sash, and that’s the reason for her bad behavior.”
“Marcia thinks she needs time to get used to the idea that she’s no longer the center of his world.” I shrugged. “So maybe the jury’s still out when it comes to Penelope.”
“Well, she can’t be all that bad if Sash still cares about her—right?”
“They practically grew up together. Childhood sweethearts. Marcia said there’s a lot of history there.”
She sighed. “The boys said as much. Teddy told me the two have this special bond. Apparently, Sash was really into her, but she was a bit wishy-washy. I think she was waiting for someone better to come along. Like a safety-net guy.”
“What’s that?”
“You know, when you like someone but not enough to commit to them. You want to keep them on the back burner in case no one else comes along.”
I looked at her aghast. “How dare she! Sash is no safety-net guy—he’s way too sexy to be safe!”
“He’s a great catch for sure, Vare. Now she’s come to her senses, and it’s too late because he’s with you.”
“I’m not going to let her get to me, no matter what. But I just wish—” I sighed. “Soon I’ll be halfway across the world, and God knows what she’ll do.”
“Oh—I totally forgot to tell you. When I was in the office, she was flipping through her notepad, and I think I caught sight of your name.”
“Really?”
“I’m pretty sure! I think she’s planning something, so just be prepared.”
“I bet she’s going to review my book on Reader!”
“God, I hope not. The last thing you need before New York is Penelope poisoning the well. Speaking of which, I overheard her telling Teddy she thinks Sash has changed since he met you.”
“Of course he has. Doesn’t love change us all?” I said smugly.
“Anyway, don’t worry about her, Vare. Sash is crazy about you, and it’s not your fault she can’t stand it. She had her chance!”
“Marcia told me it’s the first time he’s been this serious about a girl. Can you believe it?”
“Um, Verity? News flash! This is the first time you’ve been this serious about a boy.”
“Wow.” I sat back and shook my head. “Holy shit, Jess, you’re right.”
She rolled her eyes. “What would you do without me?”
“Um, curl myself into a ball and cry myself to sleep every night for the rest of my life?”
“Damn right!”
Pop was behind the counter when I walked through the door. “Guess what came today?” He waved at a large cardboard box.
“Uh, more books?”
“They’re your books, Verity! Advance copies.”
I let out a whoop, raced over to the counter, and tore open the box. Then I was holding a precious copy in my hands. When Carry Way had sent me the cover design, it didn’t feel right to me. They went back and forth with Mei Lyn and finally agreed to keep the original cover Jess had designed. I ran my fingers across her name printed on the dust jacket and grinned. She’d be over the moon.
“These are something, aren’t they?” Pop said.
Zorro jumped onto the counter and rubbed up against the box. I he
ld my book out to him, and he butted it lightly with his head. Almost like he approved.
“My book,” I sighed, clutching it to my chest.
Pop handed me a pen. “Excuse me, madam, could you please autograph a copy for me?”
I laughed. “Certainly, young man.”
“Now—you know where this is going, don’t you?”
In dramatic fashion, he unlocked the glass cabinet behind us and placed my book right in the center. “A Verity Wolf first edition, signed and inscribed by the author herself.”
I did a little curtsy.
“I’m so proud of you, little one.” I saw a tear at the corner of his eye.
“Thanks, Pop.”
He took one long look at me and shook his head. “You know, it’s uncanny, but you look exactly like your mother did the day we met her. She came into the store looking for a copy of Anna Karenina. I was poring through the classics when your dad came down the stairs. It was love at first sight.”
“Really?”
“For him, at least. She might have needed some convincing.” Pop smiled at the memory.
“So how did they start talking?”
“I made some excuse and got your dad to help her out. Right away I could sense a certain magic in the air, between them. He didn’t have much luck finding her Anna either. As it turns out, Nan always used the bookstore as her personal library, and she had it on her bedside table. That was just as well because if I had found it right away, she might have left before meeting your dad.”
“It was fate.”
“Certainly was. Come to think of it, that’s similar to how you met Sash—isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I breathed. The thought of it filled me with wonder. I was desperate for anything that made me feel closer to my parents. “Pop? Could you tell me something about Mum?” I could hardly remember much about her, but there was one memory I kept, sharp as a tack. I had once spotted a bright yellow butterfly trapped on the inside of our window and pointed it out to her. We watched its panicked wings beat helplessly against the glass. Without a word, she slid open the window to let the butterfly out. Then I was overcome with an inexplicable sadness as we watched it soar far away into the blue sky. To cheer me up, Mum folded her hands into butterfly wings, dancing them in front of me. I remember how delighted I was, watching her hands and hearing the music of her laughter. Every time I saw a butterfly, I thought of her.
“Well, Katiya was a free spirit—fiercely intelligent, artistic, and funny. She was so light on her feet—your dad used to say that in another life, she must have been a sparrow. A happy little singing sparrow. She loved the world so much, wanted to see every inch of it. More than that, she loved you, Verity, with every ounce of her heart. You meant the world to her.”
Zorro bounced up from the counter and placed one paw on my cheek with surprising lightness. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“She was like a burst of sunshine in our lives. We were lucky to have her, even though it was for such a short time.”
I was sobbing now. Pop reached over and pulled me into his arms.
“Come on—it’s a day of celebration.”
“I so wish I could remember her better.”
“I know, sweetheart. Sometimes my memories get a little fuzzy, too, but then all I have to do is look at you.” He cupped my face in his hands. “And it’s like she’s here again.”
Ten
Sash’s family home reminded me of the house in the movie Ex Machina. Perched on a cliff edge, the room where the party was held had floor-to-ceiling glass and jaw-dropping views of Sydney Harbour. In the distance, the Opera House glowed surreally like a ghostship, and the bridge behind glittered against the city skyline. The place was already buzzing when we arrived. Men in suits and women in pretty dresses talked and laughed, fluted champagne glasses in hand, and waiters skittered around with bottles of Moët at the ready.
Marcia greeted us in the hall. “Hey, dorks,” she said fondly. “Verity, let me take your coat.”
“Looks like you’re on coat duty tonight!” Sash said with a certain glee.
She glared at him. “Don’t rub it in.”
I looked from one to the other. “What’s coat duty?”
“Well, it’s a job that involves more than just greeting guests and taking their coats. When you’re on coat duty, it’s your job to make sure everything runs smoothly. You’re like the maître d’, hostess, and butler all rolled into one.”
“Mum and Dad always assigned coat duty to one of us when they put on a party. Sash did the last one, so now it’s my turn.”
“Remember when you went abroad for a year and I had to be coat boy for three consecutive parties?”
Marcia laughed. “I bet Mum and Dad were pleased—you’re so much better at it than me.”
The doorbell rang, and Marcia groaned. “Coat girl’s been summoned. Why don’t you guys go and mingle? By the way, Verity, nice dress!”
“Thanks,” I grinned, as Sash led me into the throng.
Just hours ago, I’d been in a panic about what to wear, but Jess came over to help. I must have tried on everything in my wardrobe, and in the end, I settled on an emerald-green halter dress that had belonged to my mother—a cherished belonging put aside for me by Nan. When Sash picked me up, he looked me up and down and whistled. He was so handsome in his tuxedo I even did a pretend swoon. Jess got a snap of us before we left, and I uploaded it to my Instagram. The comments that flooded in ranged from “couple goals” to “lol why is that dude wearing a bow tie?”
A scurrying sound accompanied by a flash of white caught my attention. I looked down to see a little Chihuahua pawing furiously at Sash’s feet, tail wagging. “Hey, little guy!” he cooed and picked him up. “This is Lil’ Lord Fauntleroy.”
“Hey!” I stretched my hand out to pat him, but midway I stopped when his sharp growl erupted.
“Come on, Monty. Where are your manners?” Sash set him down, and the dog still eyed me suspiciously.
“Monty!” I heard someone call. When I spotted Penelope making a beeline toward us, I groaned inwardly. As usual, she looked perfect in a little black dress and pearl earrings. She scooped up the Chihuahua, and he looked over the moon, panting and licking at her face.
“Hey, Verity!” To my surprise, she smiled warmly at me.
“Hi, Penelope,” I answered warily.
“Any chance you know where I can find Mum and Dad?” Sash asked her.
“They’re in the kitchen. Your mother’s having a showdown with Jenny about the canapés, and your dad is playing diplomat.”
“Great, I want to introduce them to Verity.”
Penelope turned to me. “I love your dress! Is it vintage?”
“Yes, it was my mother’s.”
“It’s stunning, great taste!”
I wasn’t sure if her compliment was genuine, but then I recalled the story Jess told me about the cupcake. Maybe Penelope wasn’t as bad as I thought after all. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Thanks.” I smiled.
In the kitchen, a tall, svelte lady was berating a woman in a chef’s uniform. The man next to them had salt-and-pepper hair, and he watched the terse exchange with a bemused expression. All three turned when we walked in, and the chef used this distraction to quietly slip away.
“Mum, Dad, this is my girlfriend, Verity.”
Sash’s parents looked like a couple who modeled for wedding cake toppers. Everything about them was perfect—their clothes, posture, and hair. Sash’s dad wore a navy-blue suit, and his mother had on a cream boatneck dress with a glittering tennis bracelet on her wrist.
“Happy birthday, Sir,” I blurted.
He walked over to give me a surprise hug. “Call me Graham!”
“And you can call me Dotty.” Sash’s mother gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
“We’re so pleased to meet you,” said Graham. “Sash won’t shut up about you.”
“All we’ve been hearing lately is Verity this and Verity that!” Dotty smiled at me.
“Mum,” Sash groaned.
“Your house is stunning,” I gushed.
Dotty beamed. “Has Sash given you the grand tour yet?”
“I was thinking of doing just that.”
“Don’t forget the library.” Graham winked.
Dotty’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Sash told us you grew up in a bookstore, so I’m sure you’d feel right at home.”
A waitress came in to drop off a handful of trays. Dotty snapped to attention. “Beatrice, do you know where Jenny is?” She shook her head. “Sorry, Mrs. David.”
Dotty rolled her eyes. “You must excuse me, Verity. I have to chase her down. Our chef was instructed not to put shellfish in the canapés. At least a dozen of our guests are allergic! And you, birthday boy”—she pointed at her husband—“you get out there and mingle.”
Graham touched my arm, eyes twinkling. “Dotty’s right. I can’t hide in here all night, as tempting as that is. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”
“They’re nice,” I said to Sash when his parents left.
“See, told you there was nothing to worry about. I’m your PR man, and the name Verity Wolf is on the up and up.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, the reports are flooding in, and word is you’re on fire, baby.” He kissed the tip of my nose.
“So did you manage to catch them?” Penelope walked in and strolled over to the fridge. She pulled out a bottle of Evian and uncapped it before pouring the contents into a glass. I felt a twinge of jealousy at how familiar she was with Sash’s kitchen.
“We did,” said Sash.
“How did it go?”
“Great. They’re really nice.”
“Aren’t they? I wish they were my parents.” She let out a little laugh. “Well, they practically are, aren’t they?”
There was an awkward pause.
