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Josephine As soon as I finished up at Lincoln Center, I found the first available bathroom and stood in front of the dimly lit mirror. My appearance was cringe-worthy. If I asked the mirror who it considered to be the fairest of them all, it'd reply with, "d.a.m.n girl, it ain't you. You're a hot mess."
I pulled off my NYFW cap and inspected the rat's nest on top of my head. I'd attempted to pull it back in a loose knot during my shift, just to get it off of my face. Somehow 90% of the strands were now out of the ponytail and sticking up around my head. My mascara was smudged under my eyes and I had some sort of black substance streaked across my left cheek.
Hey G.o.d, if you're up there, this would be a great time for you to work some miracles. Like maybe you could turn this bar of soap into a curling iron.
G.o.d's answering machine must have been full or something because the soap didn't change and I was left with what little makeup I'd stuffed into my purse in recent months. In total, I had a small black comb, black eyeliner, and red lipstick. I pulled my ponytail out and ran the comb through my hair. Not bad, not bad. Starting to look more like a human. Next, I used a tissue to dab away the mascara beneath my eyes and the black streak across my cheek. I used the black eyeliner to rim the edges of each eye and thanked my lucky stars that my complexion was clear and even on its own. I coated my lips in red lipstick and then braided my hair so that it lay over my shoulder. In a matter of five minutes, I'd gone from a 1.5 to at least a solid 5.
It'd have to do.
I pulled my phone out of my purse as I walked through Lincoln Center to the front entrance to catch a cab. I had a few text messages from Lily waiting for me that I'd check later, and Julian had texted me to let me know he and Dean were at the bar; the final text from my mom was the one to catch me off guard. My mom usually preferred to call and leave me voicemails. They were always short and sweet, and had a way of feeling like a dagger to my heart. I opened the text and braced myself for whatever stones and arrows she was wielding that day.
Mom: Josephine, your father's 60th birthday is in two weeks and he'd really like you to come in town for it. I know that you have a busy life in New York, so I don't expect you to stay for long. Maybe you could just come for the weekend?
Ever since my mom had mentioned my dad's birthday, the guilt of knowing I'd be missing it had started to eat away at me. I thought about it as I lay awake at night, trying to figure out a way to get down there to visit him. I didn't want to miss his birthday, but I'd yet to figure out how it would be possible. After next week, my temporary job at NYFW would be over, which meant I'd need to find another job to help make ends meet. Not to mention, Lorena was getting out of rehab very soon and I had no clue what she planned on doing with my position once she was back at work. Julian had hired me, not her. Would she need an a.s.sistant? Would she want it to be me?
If not, it meant I'd be completely unemployed in less than a week.
Perfect.
I was in the midst of some major changes, which meant that I should have been saving every single penny that came my way, not attempting to travel across the country for a weekend getaway. Unfortunately, I didn't think my mother saw it that way. The situation was cut and dried for her: be there for your father's 60th birthday or let him down. Simple as pie. Southern peach cobbler.
I headed toward the nearest subway entrance and rang Lily, praying she'd answer.
"JOSIE. Finally!" she screamed into the phone once the call connected.
I hadn't been expecting such an exuberant greeting.
"Hey Lil. What's up?"
She sighed, exasperated by my lack of enthusiasm. "Uh, clearly you have not read the texts I've been sending you."
I cringed. "No, sorry. I was at work. Why?"
"Guess who just put in her two weeks' notice at work?"
I stopped walking midway between steps so that the person walking behind me completely knocked into me. I didn't even flinch when they cursed at me and told me to get out of the way. Who the h.e.l.l cared? I was in complete shock as I tried to process the fact that MY BEST FRIEND WAS MOVING TO NEW YORK.
"Is this a joke right now? So help me G.o.d, do you realize how much I'll kill you if this is a joke?"
Lily laughed. "This is not a drill, my friend. This is happening. I'm about to purchase a Greyhound ticket and everything."
"Lily, you just completely saved the day!"
Yes. Yes. Yes. Things would work out. If Lily was moving to New York, that meant she'd be able to cover half of the rent. I'd have way less expenses when she moved to town and maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to have my peach cobbler and eat it too.
In two weeks' time, I'd head down to Texas to visit my parents and then ride back on the bus with Lily. I'd take her around and show her everything I knew. We'd hit the town together and I'd instruct her on which subway lines to avoid if she didn't want to step in a puddle of urine, which street vendors had the saltiest soft pretzels, and which apartments to avoid if she didn't want to stumble upon a random swinger's party. I could hardly wait.
"We have so much to plan, Lil," I said, unable to contain the giant smile spreading across my face.
She laughed. "Yeah, starting with how the h.e.l.l we're going to share that d.a.m.n futon."
Chapter Thirty-Two.
Julian It wasn't a big deal that Josephine was late for drinks. I didn't watch the door of Dean's bar like she was going to stumble in any minute and I definitely didn't hold my breath every time a brunette stepped through the doorway.
Those would be the actions of a man in love. Me? I was just a regular guy having regular drinks with a regular friend.
"You look paranoid. Do you need another drink?" Dean asked, drawing my attention back to our table.
I held up my scotch, still half full.
He smirked and shook his head.
"Are we expecting someone else?"
"Jo," I answered.
"Ah, the lovely Josephine."
I glared at him over the rim of my scotch.
"I thought this was supposed to be guys' night," Dean said, swirling his gla.s.s on top of the teak tabletop.
"She's sorta like one of the guys."
He narrowed his eyes, clearly calling bulls.h.i.t on me. "I'm fairly sure the double Ds you're so infatuated with make that the most asinine comment I've ever heard."
I shook my head and took another sip of scotch. Agreeing to drinks with Dean had been a bad idea. He loved calling me on my s.h.i.t, even when I preferred to brush everything under the rug. I guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree. My mother must have had fifty rugs in her palatial townhouse, all with secrets and lies shoved so far beneath that they would never see the light of day again.
"Yeah, well, tonight she's just a friend," I said, putting the cork in the subject.
He nodded slowly, eyeing me with poorly veiled skepticism.
"Have you thought about what you'll do after your sister gets released? Will you still help her with the company?" he asked, moving the conversation on to another subject I hardly wanted to think about, much less discuss.
"I'm not sure. We're right in the beginning stages of building her store. I might stick around for that and then see what other investment opportunities come my way."
"In Boston?"
I stared down at my drink and shrugged.
"Well if you're thinking of staying in New York long term, I have a few projects I'd love your help on. I've been wanting to expand on a restaurant idea, but I need a partner before I even consider it."
My brows perked up at the idea. Would I be willing to extend my stay in New York to hang around and see what sort of trouble Dean and I could get ourselves into? The idea sounded pretty tempting.
"There she is," Dean said with a smile as he held up his drink in greeting.
I turned to the door and watched Jo walk into the bar, stealing the attention of every guy within a ten foot radius.
I had a full grin stretching across my face before I even realized how happy I was to see her. She was dressed differently than usual in tight black pants and a thin black t-shirt. It looked like some kind of work uniform, but I didn't mind the darker look on her.
By the time she'd wound her way toward us, I'd already forgotten my promise to Dean that Jo was just one of the guys tonight.
"I'm sorry I'm late, guys!" she said, coming to stand beside my chair and tossing her purse down onto the table. She seemed worn out, but she looked great. Her bright red lips stood out in the dim light of the bar.
"Long day?" Dean asked.
Jo laughed and scrunched her nose. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry, I got caught up."
"With another one of your prior commitments?" I asked with an arched brow.
Jo's smile faltered as she turned her attention toward the bar, strategically ignoring my question.
"What are you manly men drinking?" she asked quickly, waving down a nearby waiter.
I could feel Dean's stare on the side of my face but I ignored him. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d could save his judgments for someone else.
"Hi. What can I get you?" the waiter asked, beaming down at Jo with more than just a simple smile. Interest was written across his douchey face clear as day.
"She'll have a Gin Fizz," I said quickly.
Jo peered over at me. "Is that what I got the other day?"
I nodded.
She grinned at the waiter. "Then that's what I'll have!"
"Most women would bite my hand off if I tried to order for them," Dean said, watching Jo carefully.
She shrugged his comment off. "Julian's pretty good about knowing what I want."
I watched as the full meaning of that comment took hold for her and then smiled as a blush overtook her cheeks.
"Okay, let's move on," Jo said, waving her hand to change the subject. "What were you two talking about before I got here?"
"I was about to play wingman for Julian here, actually. Maybe get him laid for the first time in months."
I kicked his shin under the table, but his face didn't even budge.
Jo quirked a brow. "Oh really? Months?"
I shrugged and looked her square in the eye.
"Care to help a friend out? I'm sure there's a bathroom we could find," I said with a confident smile.
"Hey, hey. Not in my bar. I just had the floors redone," Dean said, holding up his hand in protest.
I laughed. "It'd hardly be the first time that bathroom would be used for some nefarious deeds."
Jo swallowed and glanced away.
"I'm sure there's a woman here who would take you up on that offer, Julian. We just have to find the right one," she said.
"I think I like the one at this table," I pushed, feeling the effects of my second scotch starting to kick in.
She scanned the room for attractive women and tried to hide her smile. She liked when I flirted with her and yet she pretended to ignore it.
"I'm honored," Dean joked, putting his hand over his chest. "It's just that you're not my type."
I laughed and shook my head.
"What about her?" Jo asked, pointing to the left side of the bar. I turned my attention to where she was pointing. There was a pretty blonde perched on a barstool, alone and sipping on a drink. She glanced over her shoulder as I watched her, and when our eyes met, she smiled and bit down on the edge of her lip-girl code for "come on over".
She was pretty, I'd give Jo that, and her red dress left very little to the imagination, but she wasn't my type. I preferred leggy brunettes who played hard to get.
"Nah, not feeling it," I said.
"Oooookay," Jo said, turning over her other shoulder. "Her?"
She tilted her head to the right, but I couldn't tell who she was talking about. There was a sea of people to our left, plenty of women that I would have picked up back in Boston. Back then my tastes weren't quite so singular. Blondes, redheads, brunettes, tall, short...didn't matter.
"Who?" I asked, squinting toward the crowd.
"The girl with the pixie cut sitting with her friends. She looks like Tinkerbell or something."
Ah, I knew who she was talking about. The girl was gorgeous no doubt, with a sort of Emma Watson vibe. I liked Hermione just as much as the next guy, but she wouldn't do for tonight.
I shook my head and Dean laughed.
"Picky, picky. I'm sure someone here is more than worthy of your attention if you'd only give them a chance."
I scowled at him. "What about you, Dean? Why don't we set you up with someone?"
"Tonight is about you, my friend. Besides, I'm a busy man. I don't have the luxury of dating at the moment."
"Uh oh, then that means you're about to find the love of your life," Jo said.
Dean flinched back. "What makes you say that?"
She laughed just as the waiter set her drink down on the table. She thanked him, took a sip, and then turned her gaze back to Dean.
"Everyone knows that when you're least looking for love, that's when it finds you."