It turned out that Manny the Nanny was actually Manny the Gigolo, and he’d been practicing new moves with me to try on his clients.
I still feel sick, thinking about it and all the drama and stress I went through. I had to go to the clinic to get tested every three months for a year just because I was so nervous about STDs. And the sad fact was that Manny didn’t even think he was in the wrong. He offered to split some of his earnings with me if I stayed with him … like I was some sort of gigolo trainer.
The whole thing felt demeaning and depressing, and to this day, I still resent the fact that he was my first. Not that any of the subsequent men were any better.
“How is Manny the Nanny, by the way?” Brielle asks like she’s genuinely curious, and I just roll my eyes. “Would you have preferred your first to be Jack?”
“No, I’m glad that donkey wasn’t my first,” I lie.
For years, I wondered what my life would have been like if he hadn’t discovered my age that night and we’d made mad, passionate love in some fancy hotel—because I had no doubt that he’d have taken me to the Ritz or something. Jack, for all his faults, was a classy man, but also, from what I could tell, he was a bit of a playboy, so I very much doubted that he was taking randoms back to his penthouse. And I was certainly a random. I wasn’t under any illusion that we would have gotten into a relationship, but I still would have enjoyed the experience. Very much.
“Jack the Donkey. Ha-ha. That’s funny.” Brielle giggles again and eagerly takes a glass of red wine from Willow, who also has a bag of potato chips in her hand. “Thanks, Willow.”
“You’re welcome.” She settles on the end of the couch and holds her glass up. “Here’s to us, here’s to being in Manhattan, and here’s to making our dreams come true.”
We clink glasses, and I take a sip of the Merlot she poured. The liquid slides down my throat easily, and I lift my legs up onto the coffee table. I look around the living room, which is decorated beautifully, and stare out at the city lights through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I want to pinch myself. I can’t believe this is real.
“We’re in Manhattan, girls,” I say, almost in awe. “We made it out of Whispering Haven … at least for now,” I add.
If we don’t get the funding for the bed-and-breakfast, it is likely that Brielle and I will have to go back home. We don’t have rich boyfriends or jobs that can support us in the city. In fact, since we left Whispering Haven Bed & Breakfast, neither one of us has received a paycheck. I am still signed up for two art fairs that are coming up to sell my handmade stickers, quilts, and bookmarks, but that doesn’t net me much money after costs. I know we have to secure funding for this venture if we aregoing to be able to stay, and that means playing nice with Jack Heathcliff.
“My dad is livid.” Brielle looks at us with wide eyes. “He thinks I’ve made a mistake and that I should come back home. He still treats me like a kid; it’s so annoying.”
“We’re twenty-five now. We live our own lives.” I grab some of the salt and vinegar potato chips from the bag and take another sip of wine. “We just need to be able to make it work financially.”
“We can do it.” Willow sounds positive. “All our lives, we wanted to leave Whispering Haven … and here we are. We’re going to make something of ourselves. We’re going to open our own bed-and-breakfast.”
“But where?” Brielle asks the question that has been in the back of our minds for the longest time. “We still haven’t narrowed down the options. Last time I checked our joint Google Doc, we had seventeen different locations on the list.”
“ ’Cause we thought it would be years before we had enough money to even plan that far ahead,” I admit with a laugh. “We do need to figure it out though because we won’t have an accurate number for the house purchase unless we know the area.”
I look over at Willow. “How will Sebastian feel if you leave the area?”
“He’s willing to go wherever I go. He just wants me to be happy,” she says with a smile. “He’s lovely.”
“I mean, he’s all right.” I laugh. “He did marry you for revenge and almost break your heart.”
“But we got over that.” She giggles. “He’s lucky I’m forgiving.”
“Yeah, he really is.” I nod, thinking about everything he put her through.
At one point, I thought I’d have to call the cops or the FBI on him, but my fears were unwarranted. He had just beenmisinformed. Though I still think it was a little bit off that he’d made Willow stay in his home like some sort of prisoner.
My phone beeps then, and I see that it’s my sister Holly.
“Hold on. Let me get this,” I say to my friends and answer the phone. “What’s up, doll? How are things going?”
“Just got my SAT results back.” Holly sounds excited. “Guess what I got.”
“Um, fourteen hundred?”
“No, Katherine. Fourteen hundred is average. I’m not average.”
“Haha. I don’t think that’s average, Holly.” I laugh. “Fourteen fifty?”
“Nope.” She giggles. “Guess again.”
“I don’t know, sis. Just tell me.”
