What Happens to Men When They Move to Manhattan?. Jill Knapp

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СКАЧАТЬ Olivia had “newcomer writer” all over her. The only unpolished thing she did was smoke Newports. I found it to be very uncharacteristic of her, but it did give her a little bit of an edge. However, despite their differences, the two got along famously, as if they balanced each other out.

      “Dire! Just answer the question!” Cassie demanded, her hazel eyes flashing.

      Being that her grandparents were right off the boat from Italy, they demanded she learn to speak Italian and this she bestowed upon us when she was excited.

      “Were you, or were you not, alone with him?”

      I felt defeated.

      “I was, alright, but nothing happened!” I said for now the fifth time. “Also, can we stick to English tonight?”

      Cassandra smiled triumphantly.

      Through all of my annoyance, I felt a smile tug at the sides of my lips.

      “I’m going to slap you,” I said jokingly.

      Olivia shook her head at the two of us, a wide grin decorating her face.

      “I’m going to record the two of you and upload it when you aren’t looking,” she said laughing at us.

      She reached into her gorgeous Michael Kors purse and pulled out her cell.

      “Oh hey guys, it’s actually almost nine thirty. Michael and Alex are going to be here any minute, so maybe it would be a good idea to cap this conversation until tomorrow?” she asked.

      “You know what?” I leaned forward. “No need to, ladies, because I am done pretending. Cassandra, you were right all along. We did it, Michael and me. We had hot, dirty sex right on my Ikea couch all while Christina was in the next room. It was amazing. I mean, it was the kind of sex you could only have when you’ve been stuck screwing the same person for years, boy did I let go of my inhibitions. Phew! Feels so good to get that off my chest!” I slammed my right hand down on the table, hoping this would finally shut Cassie up.

      Olivia burst out laughing and then raised her glass of wine to toast me. Thinking I had finally silenced her, I shot Cassandra a look.

      Cassandra gave me a blank, unamused stare, and flipped her hair back. “Fine, but Amalia, this conversation is not over. I’m heading to the ladies.”

      She dramatically pushed her chair in and marched to the ladies’ room.

      “C’mon! Champagne for everyone! Don’t you want to know if he wears boxers or briefs?” I shouted to her as she walked away.

      Her three-inch heels clacked loudly on the bar’s old wooden floors. Every man at the bar turned to watch Cassie walk. Having come straight from her office, she was wearing dark-gray dress pants, patent-leather pumps, a bright-red button-down top, and oversized chandelier earrings. I had to hand it to the girl, she looked great. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about my own outfit, a dark-brown dress paired with gray blazer and a jeweled headband, I turned to Olivia. She was wearing a lime-green cardigan with a white camisole underneath, a knee-length black pleated skirt, and understated basic black flats. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back into a plain pony tail, minimal jewelry, and from what I could tell no make-up other than clear lip gloss. I couldn’t help but wonder if she felt underdressed. Before I could complete the thought, I suddenly felt two hands on my shoulder, causing me to nearly jump out of my seat. I quickly turned around to see who it was.

      “I always say it, Hastings, you’re too highly strung,” Alex said, holding on to me tightly.

      “Maybe it’s because of the lack of personal space I have in this bar,” I countered, as he continued to hold onto my shoulders.

      I brushed him off, and wondered why Michael was friends with him. He and Michael had appeared out of nowhere wearing what appeared to be matching outfits. They both had on dark denim jeans, loafers, and button-down shirts with fitted v-neck sweaters over them, allowing the pattern of the shirt collar and cuffs to show. I pretended to be disgusted and dust off my shoulders.

      “Hey you two,” said Michael, pulling an empty bar stool from a neighboring table.

      “So how ridiculous was Dr. Van Der’s class today?”

      “Oh no!” Cassandra said as she strutted back to her seat. “If you’re going to talk about class, I’m out of here!”

      Cassandra was the only one at the table who did not currently take classes at NYU.

      “Who are you?” she said to Alex.

      “Hey, I’m Alex”, he said, holding his hand out, seemingly unfazed by her sharp question. “You must be Cassandra.”

      “Another hand-shaker, eh?” she said sarcastically.

      I kicked her under the table and shot her a look of warning. Her iPhone started to vibrate, shaking the entire table.

      “It’s Bryce,” she explained.

      A smile crept across her face, and something made me think it was a booty call.

      “The yuppie from Oliver’s?” I grimaced; a little disappointed she was seeing him again.

      “That’s the one,” she answered without looking up from her phone. “I forgot I was supposed to be meeting him. I have to run. Boys, always a pleasure. Arrivederci.”

      “Goodnight,” we all said in unison.

      “Who’s Bryce again?” asked Olivia.

      “Ugh, you don’t want to know,” I shook my head.

      The bar was starting to clear out, thankfully. In New York City, no one was ever home. Most of the population inhabited bars or boutique coffee shops instead of ever returning to their respective homes. I couldn’t decide if it was the size of their apartments that kept them away, or the constant need to feel “busy.”

      I caught Michael’s eye and for a second I forgot anyone else was with us. He smiled at me and the increasingly familiar rush of heat started to creep up on me.

      “So, Amalia,” Alex said, breaking me out of my daze. “I heard you’re going to Panama when school’s over in the spring.”

      “Brazil,” I answered quickly.

      “Same shit,” he shot back.

      “Actually, they’re two completely separate countries,” I answered, annoyed at his ignorance and attitude.

      Alex and I had always had a love-hate relationship, and he was closer with Michael and Olivia than me, but I tolerated him for the sense of the group.

      “Whatever, they speak Spanish there don’t they?” he smiled sarcastically.

      “No. Actually, they speak Portuguese. Seriously dude, get a map,” I mumbled and took a sip of my beer.

      “Brazil! That’s so exciting!” Olivia said, trying to recover the uncomfortable moment.

      Michael looked up at me and said, “I didn’t know you were leaving СКАЧАТЬ