"What are you doing?” she asked.
I stared down at the Made in Texas shirt. “Nothing.”
That sounded lame.
“Working out,” I corrected.
"Oh wow, good for you. Cardio? The city has some fun trails.”
I rolled my eyes and fell back onto the floor. She was only making me feel worse.
"What are your plans for the day?” I asked.
"I have to do an interview for my Vogue column and then finish up taking those outfit photos from yesterday to post on my blog. Want to hang out later?”
Finally! Light at the end of the tunnel!
“Sounds good.”
“K. I’ll call you.”
She hung up and I stared up at the ceiling, realizing for the first time that I had essentially moved to New York without a solid plan. I’d left everything behind in Texas: my steady but terrible job at Acapulco Tex-Mex Grill, my pile of unfinished Pinterest DIY projects, and a beat-up red car I’d lovingly nicknamed Hoopty.
For what?
To make it in the restaurant industry.
And what was I doing? Throwing the world’s biggest pity party. I couldn’t give up on my dreams on day three, even if Dean Harper was an asshole and even if Josephine was too busy to actually hang out with me. I’d find a cooler boss than Dean and awesome friends other than Josephine.
I gripped on to that tiny sliver of hope and sat up. I couldn’t sit around and wait for my dreams to happen. I had to take life by the horns. I brushed my hair and my teeth, and then threw on a business-casual outfit. Practical, slim-fitting navy slacks, flats, and one of Josephine’s white blouses. She at least owed me that much.
A little under-eye concealer hid my temporary mental breakdown, and a dab of mascara brought me back to the land of the living.
I felt like I was in a music video as I walked toward the subway station. “You Only Live Once” by The Strokes blasted through my headphones, giving me a little pep in my step.
I was heading down into the subway system for the first time when Josephine texted me. I wasn’t sure if I’d lose cell reception down in the depths of Middle Earth—or wherever the subway stairs led—so I slid to the side and pressed up against the subway tiles as I read what she’d sent.
Josephine : Just got word that Julian wants to do dinner tonight. Meet us at Gramercy Tavern around 7? His treat!
Lily : Sounds good.
I smiled. I could brag to them about everything I’d managed to get done that day. Oh me? I’m just employed at the swankiest restaurant in town and I got invited to Baby Blue Ivy’s birthday party. So yeah, killin’ it.
I headed for the bottom of the stairs and paused as I took in the zoo around me. Confident, fast-paced New Yorkers were zooming effortlessly around the subway station. I watched them push their way through metal turnstiles and wondered where they’d acquired their little swipey card things. I turned in a circle, looking for an information booth, but it was hard to see beyond the hordes of people in black, gray, and shades of brown. You would have thought the state had outlawed color. I mean, really people .
I tried to catch someone’s eye so I could ask for help, but not a single person glanced my way. I was officially on my own. I moved out of everyone’s way and was about to search “how to use the NYC subway system” on my phone when I noticed a text Josephine had sent a few minutes earlier.
Josephine : Oh and no big deal, but Dean will be joining us. Okay, bye. TTYL.
“Shit.”
“Lady, you okay?”
I glanced away from my phone to find a homeless man sitting on the floor beside me. His white scraggly beard was nearly a foot long and his hair was made up of tight dreadlocks sticking out in every direction. His light grey eyes met mine and I frowned.
“Y’know, not really,” I admitted.
He shrugged. “Mama told me there’d be days like that.”
I nodded. Wise words for a man wearing a shirt that read “The Blue Bunny Strip Club XXX.”
“I’m Lily,” I offered, sticking out my hand.
He focused his gaze on my palm, seemingly confused about what to do with it. I wrapped my fingers back into a fist and let my hand fall.
“Nelson,” he said with a nod.
“Ever taken the subway?” I asked before glancing back out at the crowd of people.
He spoke with such a thick accent that the words seemed to blend together. “What kind of question is that? You think I hang out down here for the scenery?”
All right then . “I’ll buy you a burger if you help me figure it out.”
“With cheese?”
I smiled. “Of course.”
And that’s how Nelson the vagabond became my first friend in New York City. Hello, full social calendar.
Chapter Nine
Lily
After a full day of job-hunting, I turned the corner onto 20th Street and immediately picked up the tantalizing scents filling the air around Gramercy Tavern. A hint of roasted chicken was enough to send my stomach growling for the one-thousandth time that evening. Somewhere between breakfast and dinner, I was supposed to stop and feed myself, but I hadn’t had the time. In a moment of weakness, I’d stopped for a hot pretzel from a street vendor, but in another moment of even greater weakness, I’d tripped and dropped the pretzel into a puddle. FML.
I pulled open the heavy wood door and nearly fainted on the spot as the smell of garlic mashed potatoes hit me in full force. Be still my heart. There were a dozen people waiting to be seated, all pressed together in the foyer. I pushed through them to find the hostess stand and smiled at the petite blonde ready to jot my name down on her clipboard.