“Isa, I don’t think any seams will pop,” I said. Ev hit the gym, but he wasn’t half as jacked as Captain America. “ButI’ll be able to fix them if they do.” I shrugged. “You know I’m pretty good with a needle and thread.”
I also had my beloved sewing machine. My parents had given it to me when I’d turned thirteen, and I lugged its traveling case everywhere.
Isa exhaled. “Yeah, you’re right.” She nodded. “I just don’t want James to freak out.”
“Trust me, he won’t,” I said, the elevator dinging. Someone from the fifty-eighth floor was joining us. “I doubt he’d even notice. It was in the back of his closet, remember?”
“Cool it,” Ev murmured to me as a professionally dressed woman boarded our flight. He half nodded toward Isa, but with an expression I couldn’t decipher.
I didn’t dwell on it, because suddenly the elevator dinged again, and when its golden doors opened, we were warmly welcomed to the fifty-ninth floor.Jean-Georges Philadelphia,the sign outside the restaurant read.
Here we were, here we were, here we were!
Unfortunately, the hostess was not so welcoming. She gave us the same head-to-toe assessment as the lobby’s security guard had, then blinked and smiled faux-pleasantly. “May I help you?” she asked in a French accent. “Are you three lost?”
“No, she didnot…,” Ev said under his breath, and Isa let a giggle slip. It was a dead-on imitation of his sister Margot.
“Oh yes, you can help us,” I said to the hostess, returning her faux-pleasant smile. “We aren’t lost, but wedohave areservation.”
“Hell yeah, shedid…,” Ev muttered.
Isa disguised her laugh with a dainty cough.
The hostess blinked again. “Are you sure you’re in the right place?”
I ignored her. “The last name is Barbour.”
“Barbour.” She tapped her podium’s iPad, and I swear if she said my name wasn’t there…“Yes, I see you. Only a party of three? Your parents won’t be joining you?”
I suppressed an eye roll.What does it matter if we’re teenagers?I thought.I’m about to pay you big bucks for this meal!
“No, they won’t be,” Isa chimed in, gesturing to Ev and me.“We’re students at UPenn.”
This time it was me who wanted to laugh.
The hostess raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Yes, of course,” she said, quickly gathering three menus. “Please follow me.”
Everything about the restaurant was breathtaking. The decor was sophisticated, the furniture all creams and beiges—I guess therewasarightway to style neutrals—with dark wood tables, folded white napkins, fine glassware, and violet flower centerpieces.
And the view.
Theview.
With glass walls, we could see the whole city. The view was panoramic, all-encompassing, sweeping—the blue sky, the Delaware River, the buildings, the streets, even the cars. “Thisis incredible,” Isa breathed, raising her phone for a picture. Ev and I took ours out, too. Even if I couldn’t post it anywhere, this view warranted a photo.
Jean-Georges was humming with guests, but I wasn’t about to complain about our table; it seemed like there wasn’t a bad one in the entire restaurant. Ev and I slid into a small, curved booth facing the windows, and Isa took the cushy chair across from us. While I’d determined I wasn’t afraid of heights, she’d discovered the opposite.
“Your server will be with you in a moment,” the hostess told us.
We smiled at her. “Thank you.”
“I apologize for earlier,” she added.
“Forget about it,” I chirped with a sarcastic smile. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
She blushed. “Again, your server will be with you soon.”
Then she scurried back to her podium.
