They stare at me for a solid minute without saying a word, and the silence suffocates. Not just the air around us but the tiny spark of hope fluttering in my chest.
Gemma pinches the bridge of her nose. “I realize your new rent is a pittance, but you do still have to pay it, along with all of your other bills. And you’re still going to be living in New York. Shit isn’t exactly free here.”
I roll my eyes, sarcasm shielding my doubt. “Duh. So here’s what I’m thinking. I find some kind of bartending gig, preferably at a sports-bar-type place where I can show my tits and make two hundred dollars a night. I could work Fridays and Saturdays and then during the week, I’ll work on building my floral business.”
Harley chokes on her coffee. Gemma’s head tilts to the side like she’s a confused puppy.
Their reactions completely smother what was left of the hope spark, deflating my plans entirely. Plans that, admittedly, only really took shape in the last half hour or so, but plans that have always been in the back of my mind. They just seemed so out of reach and impractical that I never spent a lot of time dwelling on them because really, what’s the point of dwelling on an out-of-reach dream that can never be accomplished? And real truth be told, having faith in myself and all that self-help bullshit is just not a thing for me. Apparently with good reason, since even my best friends don’t think I can do this.
“Okay, it was a stupid idea. Forget I said anything.” I pull the lease agreement away from Harley and pretend to read through it. She’s already given me the basic rundown so I don’t have to actually read it, but it’s a good reason to not look at either of them.
Harley places her hand flat over the contract. “It’s not a stupid idea. Isn’t that the whole reason you got a business degree? So you could eventually open your own flower shop?”
“It’s not that we think it’s dumb, we just haven’t heard you talk about being a florist since like sophomore year. I think we all kind of figured you’d let that go by now.” Gemma pats my arm somewhat awkwardly in her attempt to bestow comfort upon me.
Shrugging, I sit back in my seat, removing myself from the physical-touch range. “I kind of did. Didn’t seem like it was the kind of plan that was ever going to come to fruition, so I put it aside. But now I could actually make it work, and with the whole no-job situation, it just kind of feels like a sign, you know? Like if ever there were a time, this is it.” I chance a quick glance at them, and they’re both smiling at me like proud parents at their toddler’s first dance recital, and proud parents are such a foreign experience for me it reignites the tiniest of hopeful flames in my chest.
“This is the perfect time, and I definitely think you should go for it.” Harley hands me her pen. “First things first.”
I take the pen and sign the lease agreement before I can second-guess myself. “So what are the chances Jack’s an actual serial killer?”
“Fifty-fifty,” Gemma guesses.
“Eighty-twenty in favor of him not trying to murder you in your sleep.” Harley takes her pen back and tucks it into her purse. “I think he seems like a genuinely nice guy.”
“And we’re totally going to be barging our way into that kitchen all the damn time, so hopefully he can hang with us.” Gemma loves to cook, but the kitchen in the apartment she and Harley share is the size of a coat closet.
Harley’s phone trills, and Nick’s face pops up on her screen. She holds it up so he can see all of us.
“Did I read my texts right? My last Manhattan friend is abandoning me?” Nick is at his parents’ house in the Hamptons for the weekend, because yes, he’s exactly as stereotypical as he seems on paper. He’s out in the massive backyard, the pool behind him and a glass of rosé in his hand.
“I can’t even look at you right now, you’re so cliché.” I take Harley’s phone from her. “I’m going to need you to make the trip out at least once to make sure this guy knows he can’t mess with me.”
“Wait, you’re moving in with a guy?” Nick’s definitely plucked eyebrows meet his perfect hairline.
“And she’s opening her own business,” Gemma chimes in, taking the phone from me.
“What the fuck? Are you finally doing the flower thing? Do I need to get on the jitney and come home?”
All three of us laugh. Nick would never take the jitney. He’s as down-to-earth and humble as any upper-middle-class white man can be, but there are certain lines even he won’t cross.
Harley takes the phone back, facing it out so all of us are within view. “Moving day is in two weeks, so you can meet him then. He seems really sweet. And he’s kind of cute.”
I barely manage to contain an eye roll. Gem and Harley might find Jack’s nerdiness attractive, but I definitely don’t. And thank god for that, because nothing could be more foolish than lusting after my new landlord.
“Oh?” Nick doesn’t sound too thrilled about that description coming from Harley’s lips.
Gemma and I share a knowing glance.
“Well, I gotta go give my new roomie this lease agreement. See you later, Nicky.”
We all wave, and Harley ends the call.
“Do you want us to come back with you?” Gemma rises, already gathering her purse and coffee.
“Nah, it’s fine. If he’s going to kill me, it’ll happen eventually anyway.” I stand and grab the signed lease. “Also I’m ninety-nine percent sure I can take him.”
Harley gives me a quick hug. “Text me when you get home.”
