Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“I have a couple of people I’d like you to meet,” I whisper to Maya as we cross the room. “I asked them here especially to speak with you. If that’s okay?”
“All right,” she says, looking surprised, but curious.
Curious, not suspicious. It’s another small win I celebrate as we stop in front of the corner booth. “Maya, meet Bailey Anne Kinsey and Harold Granger, two of my dearest and oldest friends.”
“Which means we know all his secrets,” Bailey Anne says with a mile-wide smile.
She’s wearing her hair in her signature ponytail, but she’s replaced her usual jogging suit with an elegant black pantsuit that makes my already tall friend look even taller. When she rises, she towers over Maya, her pale green eyes crinkling as takes Maya’s hand in hers. “How are you, doll? I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Have you?” Maya arches a doubtful brow. “Really?”
Bailey Anne laughs. “Well, not until about three hours ago, no. But since then, Anthony’s been texting pretty much incessantly.
“Incessantly,” Harold agrees, scooting out of the booth and extending a hand Maya’s way. At seventy, he still carries himself with the dignity of the high-powered executive he once was and looks elegant in a custom three-piece suit. “So pleased to meet you, Miss Swallows.” He gives Maya’s fingers a squeeze. “I’ve been waiting for my young friend to come to his senses and find someone to care for again.” He casts a glance my way as he releases Maya’s hand. “But it looks like he was waiting for you, and I’m glad he did. From what I’ve heard, you sound like a treasure.”
“Well, thank you. That’s a very kind thing to say.” She glances back at me, hope and caution mixing in her gaze. “But may I ask why you’ve been pestering these nice people with a stranger’s life story?”
“I wanted them to know who you were,” I say. “So, they would understand why tonight is so important.”
“We’re here as character witnesses,” Bailey Anne explains, settling into her chair as the waiter appears with the bottle of champagne and four glasses I ordered ahead of time. Maya’s phone buzzes in her small bag, but she ignores it, proving I’ve at least captured her attention.
“Which I, for one, think is delightful,” Bailey Anne continues. “As a society, we should do more things like this. A mandatory ‘bring friends to vouch for your character’ meeting three or four dates in would have saved me so much time when I was online dating.” She shudders. “Have you done any of that, Maya?” she asks as I pull out Maya’s chair and settle down beside Harold on the banquet, letting the women have the chairs. “Online dating?”
Maya shakes her head. “No, I haven’t.”
“Good,” Bailey Anne says. “Don’t. It’s awful. Especially here in the city. The men are all sociopaths or neurotic workaholics or both. You’re better off hanging a ‘single and looking for an age-appropriate gentleman’ sign around your neck at the grocery store.”
“Which Bailey Anne actually did,” I offer, thanking the waiter for the champagne and indicating he can leave the rest of the bottle in the ice bucket beside the table.
Maya’s eyes widen as she glances back at Bailey Anne, once again ignoring her phone as it vibrates twice more. “You didn’t.”
Bailey Anne grins. “I did. And Paul and I have been happily married for three years. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Harold makes an approving sound. “That’s the kind of creative thinking you need in these modern times. Don’t let the social media tech billionaires convince you there’s only one way to skin a cat. People can still make connections in real life. My daughter, Deb, met her boyfriend at a pasta making class.”
“And even if she hadn’t, she still would have learned to make pasta,” Maya says. “It’s a win-win.”
“That’s the spirit,” Harold says, lifting his glass. “A toast to open minds and open hearts.”
“To open minds and open hearts,” we all echo. As I clink glasses with Maya, I hold her gaze for a beat, relieved that she seems comfortable with my friends. On the way over, I started to worry that she might feel ambushed.
“So, Anthony says you’re in real estate?” Bailey Anne asks after we’ve sipped our champagne.
“I’ve managed my parents’ portfolio of rental properties for years. I was hoping to start my own business this year, but I’ve hit a few snags along the way,” Maya says, some of the light dimming from her eyes.
But hopefully, by the end of the night, I’ll be able to put her worries about the real estate deal to rest tonight along with all her other worries.
“I get that,” Bailey Anne says with a sigh. “New York real estate can be a beast.”
“Bailey Anne manages preservation for buildings on the historic register,” I offer. “She’s the go-to for anyone who needs an expert in seventeenth-or eighteenth-century real estate.”