Page 127 of Only Lovers in the Building

Playing musical chairs with apartments to facilitate big life moves was the theme of the week.

“I’ll be home soon,” Lily forced herself to say. “But you can always crash with me. We’ll make it work.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to cramp your style. Are you seeing anyone?”

“That won’t be a problem,” she said hurriedly. “What’s really going on with you and Coco? You’ve been together, like, six years, right?”

“Seven,” he said. “It’s over now. She moved out a couple months ago.”

“Months ago!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“When do I ever say anything?” Patrick replied. “That’s not how I roll.”

“Consider rolling in a new direction, please. You can’t keep everything bottled up.”

“You’re my kid sister,” he said. “I’m not coming to you with grown-folks’ problems.”

“I’m not ten anymore, and you’re not that much older than me.”

When she was ten, and Patrick fifteen, the difference in age was staggering. There was nothing they could agree on, no new toy they could share or movie they could happily watch together. She was a bratty kid then, and he was a brainy teen. Now they were adults. There was no reason they couldn’t talk.

Patrick sighed. “There’s not much to say. Something was off. I couldn’t put my finger on it. One day, she packed up and moved out. I think someone else was in the picture, but let’s not go there. All I want is to put this whole thing behind me.”

Lily wasn’t too surprised. She’d always found Coco to be rather cold. “Okay,” she said. “Look out, New York! Pat is single and ready to mingle!”

“Shut up.”

“On a serious note, is that why you’re moving back? To put distance between you and your ex? I assure you, there’s enough room in the state of Virginia for the both of you.”

“It’s a good move, careerwise,” he said. “Besides, I miss the city. I’ll get to reconnect with my friends, and I’ll be closer to the family hub, Sunday dinners, and all that. You’ve shouldered the burden a while. What I’m saying is take your time. You deserve a break.”

Lily swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You’re just saying that because you want my apartment.”

Patrick chuckled. “That’s true.”

Lily did not dare look up from the phone screen. She was aware that Ben was stealing glances at her. She could feel his gaze sweep over her then move away. What had he made of her family drama? Though she’d told him all about her parents, their overprotectiveness and limited worldview, this would be the first time he’d witnessed them in action. Today, they’d been in rare form.

Before saying goodbye to Patrick, she encouraged him to use their mother’s spare key to move his stuff into her apartment whenever he liked.

“Thanks, sis,” he said.

“Sure thing. See you soon.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sierra had reserved a poolside cabana at the famed Fontainebleau. A flat-screen TV was on to the sports channel. A complimentary bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket.

“Does this work for y’all boomers?” she asked, after showing them their digs for the day. She was obviously pleased with herself.

“I approve,” Noah said.

Lily approved as well. She was in a party mood. Rebecca was actively negotiating a publishing deal. Evenings, she worked on her essays. Lily Lyon, essayist. That had a nice ring to it. She wouldn’t abandon her legal career, but the book advance could buy her some time, give her an opportunity to revamp her career to her liking. She only needed time to figure it out. For now, though, she’d enjoy the last days of summer, prepare for the one remaining podcast, and pretend her love life wasn’t on the edge of a cliff.

There was nothing wilder, more carefree, than a summer pool party at a Miami resort. Everyone was having fun. Even Ben appeared to be enjoying himself. With the brim of his baseball cap low over his eyes and a beer in hand, he swapped stories with the others. Roxanna had joined them. Lily knew he’d been looking forward to spending time with little Oscar. When a DJ started her set, Roxanna protected his delicate ears with noise-canceling headphones. Jeremy, Nicolas, and Sierra’s date, a guy named Ted, rounded out their group. “He’s in real estate,” Sierra said, referring to Ted. “Which means he’s making bank or broke. There’s nothing in between. He’s cute, though.”

Lily agreed. “Yes, he is.”

Ted had a handsome face, a sandy-brown complexion, and the tricky smile of a master salesman. No way he was broke.