Page 29 of Only Lovers in the Building

“Noah and I had dinner plans,” she said. “He bailed last minute. The reservation was tough to get, and I don’t want to cancel. He said you might be free. Are you? Dinner is on me.”

Under any other circumstances than her current one, Lily might have resented this lazy, last-minute invitation. Kylie from the third floor didn’t care who joined her for dinner: she was looking for a seat-filler. Honestly, she did not seem like a pleasant dinner partner. That aside, Lily had no plans for the night, except sitting in silence and all that. Plus, she’d meant to check out Miami’s restaurant scene. Now was as good a time as any.

“Sure. Why not?”

“You should know I’m a food blogger,” Kylie warned her. “I’ll take pics of everything. Some people find it cringe, and I get it, but that’s what’s happening.”

“I don’t mind.”

Who better to discover a new restaurant with if not a bona fide foodie? Might be fun.

They agreed to meet in the lobby in an hour. Kylie had booked an Uber, and it was waiting when Lily got there. By Manhattan standards, the Italian restaurant was within walking distance. In Miami, this was unthinkable. “Not in this heat,” Kylie said, holding open the car door. They rode to the newly opened restaurant, which turned out to be an old New York spot. Everything made its way south, eventually.

As soon as the bread basket hit their corner table, Kylie whipped out her phone and started snapping pictures. This earned her sidelong glances from a couple at the next table. She ignored them and went about her business, switching angles, moving the bottles of olive oil and balsamic vinegar until she was satisfied. This was work, not fun.

“I can’t count on him,” she said. “One text from a guy and poof! He’s gone!”

“Who? Noah?” Lily asked.

Kylie’s silence said everything.

In the books she’d picked up lately, friendships were uncomplicated. The main character’s pal was an unwavering ally who never let them down. In real life, friends could be flaky. They followed boyfriends across country, took jobs in Europe, or quit social media to focus on inner peace. Work friends weren’t friends at all: the competition was too fierce. There were only so many promotions, perks, and corner offices to go around. Often, what you were left with, particularly as you entered your thirties, was a former roommate with whom you have little in common aside from shared memories of a beloved apartment, a girl at your gym who’s up for coffee after Pilates, the friend who travels too often to make plans, and a guy you’d love to hang out with if he didn’t live way out in Long Island.

Their waiter set their cocktails before them. “Take all the photos you want,” he said. “Just no flash, please.”

Kylie turned red in the ears.

Lily sipped her perfectly crafted martini. She preferred the one Ben had made her, for some unknown reason, but this one was strong enough to get her through dinner—that’s what counted.

Kylie set down her phone and picked up her glass of white wine. “So . . . when did you move in?”

“Over the weekend. I’m glad you stopped by. I’ve made a few friends, but they’re busy working.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Kylie’s reaction was swift. “I work!” she exclaimed.

“I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“Blogging isn’t all I do. I’m a private chef. Before that, I owned a food truck. It went bust in 2020. Before that, I was a cook at a popular restaurant. Before that, I waitressed.”

“Didn’t mean to offend.”

Kylie deflated. “No . . . It’s fine. You’ve been wonderful. I’m a bitch tonight.”

“I understand,” Lily said. “My career is a sore spot, too.”

“Noah says you’re a lawyer.”

“Did he brief the whole building?” Lily asked.

“He keeps us informed,” Kylie answered. “It’s a public service.”

Every building needed an informant, Lily reasoned. Back home, she had Mrs. Appleton on the ground floor, who kept track of everyone’s comings and goings.

“If you really are a lawyer—” Kylie started.

“I really am,” Lily interrupted.

“I know someone, this guy, Jeremy, who could use one.”