by Lexy Timms
“Thanks, Grant,” she said, returning the smile.
Leaving his office, she was greeted by a few people who knew her secret, all of them smart enough to keep the secret quiet—they loved their jobs too much to give it away. They simply smiled at Leslie, and went back to whatever it was that they were doing. It was nice not to have to deal with the fame she’d seen other authors endure. It just wasn’t for her. She’d never liked the spotlight. It was just something she loved to do that happened to be extremely profitable.
When Grant first informed Leslie that she was going to be a huge hit, her initial instinct was to run and hide under a boulder and pray that everyone forgot that there was a writer behind it all. When she’d approached him about the secret identity and pen name, he’d been hesitant until he realized how the mystery would get readers, papers and social media talking. Nobody ever dug deep enough, and the mystery turned into something fun for readers.
She stepped outside and felt the sun find its way between the tall buildings and onto her face. She inhaled deeply. If she gave it a chance, she believed New York City could be a place she could fall in love with. Well, maybe not love—she was never going to experience that again. NYC was a city where you could just sink into the background and watch the world interact in the most magical and mysterious ways that there were. It was like the entire world converged on New York City, and it all blended together. The rich and poor, native and foreigners, the seen and the unseen. It had everything a people-watcher could want. Enough to find ideas for her stories and characters. It was perfect even though she probably wasn’t taking full advantage of everything it had to offer. She was just interested in living her life, doing what she loved, and continuing on with everything that she had always been doing. Was that such a bad thing? She didn’t think so.
She headed back to her apartment building, a decent place that was smashed between two other apartment buildings, the bottom floor a Chinese restaurant where she ordered take-out from on a regular basis and just three blocks from a gym that she loved. There was nothing inherently wrong with her apathy toward the entire idea of exploring the city, but she usually only did it in small doses. She knew where everything she needed was in just a seven-block radius of her apartment, and she loved it that way.
Unlocking the front door with her code, she walked down the narrow corridor and up the flight of stairs, avoiding the horrifying elevator she was certain was going to plummet and kill everyone the moment she stepped foot inside of it. Besides, taking the stairs was something good for the body. Walking up them, she ran into the other fairly reclusive and quiet neighbors she shared the building with. They would offer blank stares or soft smiles as they continued on their way. None of them were overly interesting, but all of them were unique in their own special way. There was little-dog-woman and hat-guy whom she saw on a regular basis. They were also fellow stair-dwellers as well. She liked that she had begun to recognize them.
On the fourth floor, she headed down the short hallway and passed the three doors to her little section of the apartment building. The door before hers belonged to Mr. Vargas, the grumpy, quiet old man who would stand out on the small balcony that he had and glare at everything. She didn’t know if he was maybe sensitive to the sun, but he’d just squint at everything, hunched over in his faded, mustard house-robe. The other room across the hallway belonged to Amber and Josie, who were sharing their little apartment with each other as they pursued their various careers with a rather haphazard approach.
Amber was a blonde goddess who worked at a club, tending at a bar that brought her hundreds of dollars in tips that she usually paid rent with, then partied the rest away. How a woman as beautiful, seductive, and personable as Amber was always without money always boggled Leslie’s mind. As for Josie, she was a struggling artist who refused to give up on the dream that one day she would make it famous. Until then she worked as a customer service representative at a call center, which let her come and go whenever she wanted and paid her just enough to contribute to rent and pay the bills. All in all they were fun, and Leslie loved living next door to them. They never asked her about her past or her future.
They’d developed a sort of open-door policy where they would meander into each other’s apartments without much concern to modesty or class. If they were drunk, coming home off of a particularly fun night, they always felt inclined to see what Leslie was doing. Since she was usually up writing or watching some sappy, sad movie on Netflix, they’d drop onto her sofa or raid her fridge as they regaled her with their stories, always vowing to take her out with them next time. She never pressed.
By the time she had her key in the door, she could hear movement across the hall and knew she wouldn’t be alone for long. As far as they were concerned, Leslie worked as a struggling cookbook writer and freelance article writer who just barely made enough for her apartment’s rent. But she suspected that Josie was beginning to question that, because though her apartment was small and it was in a pretty lame apartment building, it was still nicely furnished and she was always able to buy dinner, or lunch, or brunch, or a late night snack. None of them woke up early enough for breakfast. That was beyond question.
“Leslie!” Amber shrieked from her door, like she was calling to a long lost pet that had finally returned.
Leslie smiled and tossed her keys onto a small table that was sitting near the entryway. “Hey, Amber!”
Her apartment was minimal and tight. Immediately walking in, she passed her closet and was given the option of walking straight to her tiny living room/dining area or turning left into her kitchen that was small enough that she couldn’t do anything really fancy, even if she actually wanted to. Her bedroom and bathroom were accessible off of the living room, and were small enough that there really wasn’t much she could do with it. But, thanks to the gods of Pinterest and sheer boredom, she had made it her own and drawn the attention of Amber and Josie.
“Leslie!” Josie called out, excitedly rushing through their apartment and heading across the hallway to follow Amber into Leslie’s apartment. “So, how was it?”
“How was what?” Leslie asked, furrowing her brow and looking over her shoulder at Josie and Amber who were already raiding the wine she had and grabbing glasses.
“You’re all dressed up,” Amber added. Clearly they had been conspiring about what could possibly have drawn Leslie out of the apartment so well dressed. It was fairly common that Leslie, though she had a phenomenally toned body, only believed in wearing things she referred to as comfy clothes. There were always exceptions to this new-found rule in her life and that was when she went to the gym. For Amber to make the money she did in tips, she needed to be irresistible to the men at the club, so she would frequently go with Leslie to the gym, dragging along Josie, who thought of exercise as something torturous to someone like her who was given the glorious gift of a high metabolism. All in all, Leslie had simply dressed as she always had once upon a time, and this was obviously a cause of note for the two spies across the hall. “Was it a date? An interview? Oh shit, are you moving out?” Amber’s mind darted to a million scenarios.
“No,” Leslie laughed. “Just taking care of some business.”
“I’m not buying it,” Josie said with certainty in her voice. “Who is he? Is he that cute Asian guy from the gym?”
“Samurai?” Amber asked with a sad, defeated tone in her voice as her shoulders slumped. “I knew that he was checking you out and not me.”
“Shut up,” Leslie shook her head. “He was watching you non-stop.” She grabbed a Mickey Mouse cup and let Amber fill it with wine. “What are you two doing today?” She glanced at the clock and saw that it was only two in the afternoon.
“Work,” Amber made a snarl.
“Nothing,” Josie said, glancing over to the wall where Leslie had built shelves with her own two hands. The shelves were lined with books that she had picked up while living in New York. She’d built those shelves, intending to fill them up
, and when she finally had she built more in the living room. Essentially, she’d lost her security deposit, but Leslie wasn’t going to sweat a thousand dollars.
Leslie watched Josie, knowing she was looking for a hint as to what she did for a living. Josie didn’t buy the article writing gig. Leslie was surprised that Josie still hadn’t noticed the letter of acceptance on the one shelf next to her diploma and degree that she had strategically laid down between plaques. She hadn’t hung it, as it reminded her of the day of the funeral when she’d taken it down from her old house.
“What’re your plans?” Josie asked, distracting her from the past.
“I don’t know.” Leslie took a long drink of wine. “I should work, but I’m not feeling it today.”
“Come to the club,” Amber begged. “Please, please, please! You never come and Josie always ends up bored at the end of the bar, getting hit on by guys while she doodles. Everyone’s miserable because you won’t come.”
Leslie let out a long sigh. She had never gone to Amber’s club, and for good reason. There was something about a dimly-lit cavern with lots of strobing lights, black lights, and a DJ blasting her ears that made her feel exhausted already. While she had been invited a hundred times over, she’d always found a decent reason not to go, but it was hard today to think of one today.
She was going to have to start living her life again at some point.
Amber was adventurous and wild, the kind of girl who would gladly make out with the cute guy checking her out and have a doomed whirlwind romance that inevitably imploded two weeks later, but gave her amazing stories to tell. Leslie had given Tiffany Black some of those adventures in her stories.
“Maybe,” Leslie shrugged.
“Maybe? Are you freaking kidding me?” Amber looked at Leslie, baffled, perplexed, and extremely pumped, like Christmas had just come early for her. The look was so adorable and so completely captivating that Leslie felt like she was obligated to go just so the expression wasn’t wasted on a false hope. “Josie, go get her the dress.”
“The dress?” Leslie lifted an eyebrow nervously. What had she just gotten herself into?
Josie drained her glass and ran across the hallway, her auburn hair flying as she raced with all her speed, no doubt making Mr. Vargas feel compelled to complain to the superintendent again that the three gorgeous women around him were making too much noise. The Super, Mr. Rutherford, usually told him to enjoy the view and stop complaining. He embodied the thoughts Leslie had on the situation completely. Half of the time, Amber and Josie were showing more skin than they were clothes and they were always nice to him. What more could an old bachelor want?
When Josie returned, she was holding a true red dress that was going to show off more than Leslie was ready for. She could already feel her heart palpitating at the thought of going out in it, but there was something inside the back of her mind that screamed, Ooooooh, pretty! Inevitably, it won out as she took it from Josie.
“Whoever said redheads shouldn’t wear red was an idiot,” Amber said sternly. “You’re going to look incredible in it. I promise you. If you don’t, I’ll buy you two slices.”
“Three,” Leslie bartered, chewing on her lower lip nervously. “My hair’s auburn. Not red. It’s brown with just hints of a reddish color.” She swallowed hard. “Fine, I’ll go.”
Chapter 4
Amber’s club was the kind of pulsating, hypnotic dungeon Leslie had suspected it was going to be. Walking in, Leslie and Josie were immediately noticed like fresh blood in the water by every man in the building. Leslie could feel eyes crawling all over her and she immediately hated it. Everything about the decision to show up was beginning to race through her, tainted with regret and remorse. She should never have come. This was more trouble than she was interested in.
By the time they made it to the bar, Leslie felt like she was being washed up on the shore of some island after being shipwrecked. She had enough money to buy this club and a hundred more like it, and yet she felt like she was a novice to everything about it.
Josie walked the club, looking like a pro in this kind of environment. She had been here enough that she had all the confidence that Leslie was lacking.
Behind the bar, Amber looked like the platinum goddess that she was, drawing the eyes of every lustful man in the entire building who stared at her with mesmerized and transfixed eyes, begging for her to enter their lives as she made a thousand elixirs at a time.
Leslie watched her work and genuinely found it entertaining. It gave her a chance to catch her breath and not regret coming through the front door.
“I’m so glad you came!” Amber shouted over the thundering music. The dance floor was flooded with people who were letting the music take over their bodies. “Whatever you want, it’s on me.”
“Tom Collins,” Leslie said, turning to Josie who ordered something that turned out to be an extremely fruity and fluorescent drink that was beyond Leslie’s ability to comprehend. Amber made them with such ease and grace that it baffled Leslie, who asked a thousand different questions, all of which Amber answered with a strange command and authority that Leslie had never seen. She knew everything about drinking and the art of mixology.
Leslie stayed by the bar as Josie headed to the bathroom to check her makeup.
“You’re not going to shake it up, baby?” a guy behind Leslie asked, his face close to her ear so she could hear him. She whirled around to see a handsome blond guy in a business suit.
“I don’t dance.” She turned her back and ignored him. Baby. Really?
Amber came by a moment later to check her drink. “You want another?”
Leslie nodded and then rolled her eyes behind her, hinting at the guy behind her. She shook her head and hoped Amber got the hint.
“Gotchya!” She leaned across the bar. “Hey sweet-cheeks, the lady here wants to buy you a drink.”
Leslie nearly joked on the liquid in her mouth. What the hell!
“If the lady’s buying, I’m not saying no.” A soft chuckle that sounded completely different from the voice in her ear a few minutes ago had her spinning around. A very fit, dark haired guy held out his hand.
“Grant?” She burst out laughing and leaned forward to hug him. “Fancy meeting you here!”
Grant chuckled and winked at her while Amber stared open-mouthed at the two of them. “You guys know each other?”
“Old friends.” Grant winked again. “Before Leslie moved here.”
“What’re you drinking?” Leslie asked.
“Rum and Coke.”
Amber mixed the drink, clearly making it doubly strong. She slid it across the bar. “Any friend of Leslie’s is a friend ours.”
A slim female came up beside Grant and reached for his hand. Leslie didn’t recognize her, but then again she really didn’t know a lot about Grant besides his being her secret agent. Guess they both had a life the other didn’t know about.
“Thanks for the drink, Leslie. You look great in red!” He raised the glass and headed toward the dance floor with the girl.
Josie returned and sat down on the stool where Grant had been standing a moment earlier. Amber made her another drink as well. It felt like a hundred times in the first hour, guys would approach them and ask them if they’d be interested in dancing, giving them their numbers, or if they could buy the girls a drink. Leslie would always thank them politely and refuse their offers, feeling like a horrible person, but definitely not wanting to encourage the behavior.
“Are you not looking for anything?” Josie asked while Amber attended two guys who had given up on trying to flirt with Josie and Leslie. Amber was great at steering them away, introducing people at the bar to one another, and letting them carry off with each other to party elsewhere.
“No,” Leslie answered, stirring some strange concoction Amber had made just for her.
“Why not?” Josie asked, after a moment of clearly trying to decide whether or not she should ask the question. Clearly it
was eating at her and Leslie was surprised it took that long for her to wrestle with the dilemma.
Leslie let out a sigh and decided it was time to let it go. Or maybe the alcohol decided. “I used to be married,” Leslie told her, shouting over the music and barely getting it to Josie. “Before I moved here, I lived in San Francisco with my husband.”
“What?” Josie shouted. “Are you kidding me? You’ve lived next door for like an entire year and you’re just now telling me this? You’re a girl who loves her secrets.”
Leslie shrugged, taking a drink before she decided that she should tell Josie the rest of the story. Leaning in so she didn’t have to shout over the music, she said, “He died of cancer. It really sucked.”
Josie stared at her for a moment with her big hazel eyes before she launched herself at Leslie and hugged her tightly. It was the kind of hug that everyone around them thought was probably induced by drinking too much, but Leslie knew better and she hugged her friend back, letting herself be nurtured for the first time in a long time.
“Hey ladies,” a guy said, coming up and hitching up his pants as he looked at the two hugging ladies with as much smolder as he could muster. “Mind if I get in on that hug?”
“Get the hell out of here!” Josie shouted at him. She turned to one of the bartenders and pointed to the guy who had effectively ruined their moment. “This douche is out of control, Tank.”
The massive bartender looked at the interloper and shook his head. “Leave them alone.” It was all he had to say to send the guy running.
When he was gone, Josie burst out laughing and Leslie found herself laughing as well. From that moment on the night took a less tense tur, and when Amber was finally off of her shift the three of them hit the dance floor together, making sure that it was strictly a girls’ night. While Leslie was in the bathroom, she had no doubt that Josie told Amber her secret, because Amber hugged her for an excruciatingly long time and refused to let her go after a while.
