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Candles flickered in mason jars and the air was scented with lavender and jasmine. It was a peaceful summer scene that felt a million miles from the urban madness of Manhattan. Being up here almost always soothed her.
Not today.
Unemployed.
The word filled her head, leaving no room for anything else.
In front of them, the table was loaded with delicious-looking dishes. Chickpeas roasted in spices, raw vegetables dressed in good olive oil and herbs. When she was stressed, Eva cooked, and she’d been cooking all afternoon. The fridge was full of food.
No one was eating.
“I threw the shirt away.” Eva’s voice was thickened. “I probably shouldn’t have because heaven knows when I’ll be able to afford to buy a new one. I don’t know why I feel so miserable. I didn’t even like the job that much, not like you. I only did it for the money, and because you were both there and I love working with you. It wasn’t my dream or anything. My dream is to turn my cookery blog into something big that people actually read. But this was your dream and you must be so upset.”
Paige stared across the rooftops, trying to sort her feelings into order and label them. Everything felt out of control. “I’m fine.” She accessed the smile with the ease of someone who had faked it a thousand times before. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
Frankie was on her knees tending the planters. She watered, snipped, deadheaded, trimmed and said nothing.
Paige knew what that meant.
When Frankie was upset or angry, she raged.
When she was scared, she was quiet.
Tonight she was quiet.
Because of her upbringing, the ability to support herself was everything to Frankie.
Paige felt the same way, but for different reasons.
Claws, her brother’s rescue cat, sprang from nowhere, and Eva spilled her drink.
“Why does she always do that? The animal is deranged.” She stood up and Paige passed her a napkin.
“I know. That cat is the reason most of my clothes are covered in marks.” She reached for the cat but Claws stalked off with a flick of her tail, disdaining physical affection. “Why didn’t my brother rescue a cute puppy?”
; “Because cute puppies need attention and Claws is the ‘The Cat that Walked by Himself.’” Frankie quoted Kipling and Claws rewarded her by taking a detour and rubbing briefly against her leg. “I’m in favor.”
“If she stopped scratching and jumping on people she wouldn’t be the cat who walked by itself. She’d have friends.” Eva mopped at her dress. “I thought animals were supposed to be able to sense when someone is traumatized and offer comfort.” Her voice wobbled. “Tonight was all about celebrating Paige’s promotion and now none of us have jobs. I don’t feel so good. How can you both be so calm?”
Paige watched Claws stretch out on the terrace next to Frankie. “I’m a little angry.” And a lot scared, but she wasn’t admitting that to anyone. “I’m angry with Cynthia because she made huge promises and, it turns out, told a few lies. And I’m angry with myself because I was stupid enough to trust that they meant what they said. If I’d sensed something, maybe we wouldn’t be in this position.”
Eva reached for another napkin. “It isn’t stupid to trust your employer.”
“It’s stupid to trust anyone.” Frankie reached out to stroke Claws and the cat gave a warning hiss.
Paige shook her head. “Sorry. My brother is the only one she trusts, despite the fact I feed her when he’s out. There’s no justice.”
Eva poured dressing onto a salad she’d made. “I don’t know why I’m cooking when none of us are eating. It’s my stress reliever. Fuck Cynthia. Fuck all of them.”
Frankie raised her eyebrows. “I’ve never heard you swear before.”
“I’ve never lost my job before. It’s a first, although this experience definitely wasn’t on my bucket list.” Eva tossed the salad violently, losing a few leaves in the process. They gleamed under the soft light of the terrace, glossy with oil. “At least I won’t have to tell Grams. You know the worst thing? Not working with you two anymore.” Tears glistened in her eyes and Paige was by her side in seconds.
The job was important to her, but her friends, these friends she’d known almost all her life, were more important.
“It’s going to be okay.” She said it fiercely, as if by injecting the words with enough passion they might come true. “We’ll find something.”
