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Paige’s head throbbed. She’d been up half the night making lists and notes. And trying not to second-guess her decision.
What had she done?
Would they all be better off looking for jobs?
“What time is it?”
“Six thirty.”
The lump in the bed moved and Eva emerged, hair wild, eyes sleepy. “Seriously? This is what time our day starts at Urban Genie? I resign.”
Sun shone through the windows, illuminating the high ceilings and hardwood floors. Eva’s clothes were strewn around the room, in rainbow colors and assorted textures. A pair of gold flats peeped from under the bed and three bottles of jewel-bright nail polish sat on the bedside table next to a book on how to look fabulous on a budget.
Despite her state of anxiety, Paige smiled. Eva always looked fabulous.
When she’d first arrived in New York, she’d been the only one living with Matt. Eva had been sharing an apartment with her grandmother until she’d moved into sheltered living and the apartment had been sold to fund her care. Eva had been homeless and Paige had asked Matt if she could have a roommate. He hadn’t hesitated. Frankie had joined them a month later.
They were three small-town girls, living in the big city, and soon they were as close as they’d been growing up.
Living with her friends had proved surprisingly easy given their differences, one of the biggest of which was the hours they kept.
Eva was a sloth in the mornings.
“Get up.” Paige gave her friend a nudge. “I want you to design a personalized menu for Baxter and Baxter. I’m calling them later.”
“The ad agency? Star Events pitched for that account.”
“And lost because they weren’t original enough. This is a young, dynamic agency. We need to be equally dynamic. And original.”
“I don’t feel dynamic.” Eva pulled the pillow over her head. “And I can’t be original at six thirty in the morning. Go away.”
“You have until seven thirty to shower and be ready in the kitchen with menus.” Paige pulled her hair into a ponytail and glanced at her reflection in the mirror on Eva’s wall.
That brief glance told her that all the panic she felt was safely concealed inside.
Her hair was smooth and straight. Even New York humidity couldn’t put a kink in it.
Eva gave a grunt. “You’re a tyrant. It wouldn’t kill you to have a day off exercise. You’re already in great shape.”
“I won’t be in great shape for long if I don’t run. It’s my stress reliever.” And physical fitness was important to her. Her body had let her down once through no fault of her own. She did what she could to make sure it didn’t let her down again. “Could you fix breakfast? We can eat while we work.”
“I’m reporting you to human resources.” Eva yawned, emerging from under the pillow. “We do have a human resources department, right?”
“I’m it, and your complaint is duly noted. Anything you want me to pick up? I could call in at Petit Pain. Walnut bread? Sourdough loaf? Bagel?” Petit Pain was one of their favorite local bakeries, run by a man who had started baking when his wife had died. He’d discovered a new passion and his business had grown, supported by the local community.
Eva sat up and rubbed her eyes. “We can’t afford it. I’ll make breakfast from scratch. Frankie needs to eat something that isn’t full of additives. She barely ate at all yesterday. It was that text from her mother that started it.”
“Yeah, well, knowing your parents have sex is weird for anyone, but when your mother is sleeping with men the same age as you and bragging about it, it’s so far away from weird there is no word for it. It’s no wonder poor Frankie is damaged.” Paige watched as Eva scooped her mass of sunny hair away from her face. “How come you look so good when you’ve just emerged from under the pillows?”
“My hair looks like a bird’s nest.”
“But it’s a cute bird’s nest. So you don’t want anything?”
“Berries?”
“Berries aren’t comfort food.”
“They are to me. And anyway, we don’t need comfort, we need health. If we’re going to be working hard and subjecting ourselves to bucket loads of stress, we need to strengthen ourselves nutritionally.”
