Victoria frowned, but went to get a cup of tea before putting too much brainpower into where Christine was. A hastily scrawled note sat on the chopping block.
Gone to Boston for two days. Feel free to raid the cupboards for whatever you can find.
What happened to going to Manhattan and helping her get a job? Victoria scrounged up a bowl of cereal. When she finished, she sent Trent a text then went to the shower. While she was toweling off, her phone dinged.
I’d love to meet for dinner. I’ll be out of the office around 6. Meet u in midtown somewhere?
It sounded perfect.
The only problem was that she didn’t have the faintest idea where she was going. The thought of venturing into Manhattan alone was intimidating.
Call me when you leave work. I don’t know where I’m going.
Victoria arranged her clothes in her cupboard-sized closet, and about halfway through her suitcase she realized that there was no washer and dryer in the apartment. A quick trip downstairs didn’t reveal a laundry room, either. A few minutes with her phone revealed a trio of laundry places within walking distance, so she made a mental note to scope them out on her way to the train station.
A few more minutes on the phone showed the best way to get to Manhattan and end up only a couple blocks from Times Square. Victoria grinned. For someone from Omaha, Nebraska, Times Square was Manhattan. Well, that and the Statue of Liberty. And Central Park. And the Empire State Building. She couldn’t help but grin even bigger. New York was just so damn exciting.
The sun was shining high overhead as she left the apartment.
***
The subway station wasn’t nearly as scary as she expected. It had a musty smell, and the paint wasn’t exactly fresh, but it was well lit and the instructions on the ticket machine were simple enough to follow. She bought a pass and a week’s worth of rides, then went to find her train.
The train car was nicer than the station. Sure there was a homeless guy wandering car to car and singing for money, but most of the people just looked bored. A guy in a hoodie slouched on the bench beside her, white headphones plugged into his ears and his phone open in his palm. Across the car an older lady with a hairnet and a bag of groceries was reading Fifty Shades of Grey .
The car rattled down an incline, and the sunlight winked out as it dove under the river. Walls whisked past on either side, and a few moments later the train came to a stop. Victoria watched the lightboard above the door, double checking that it didn’t say Bryant Park. There were still a few stops to go, but she couldn’t remember how many. Lexington Avenue definitely wasn’t Bryant Park, though.
The old lady left and a pair of guys in rumpled suits took her place. It was easy to imagine them as bankers or businessmen or mafiosos. Did New York even have a mafia anymore? She’d have to ask Trent.
Eventually she reached her station and scrambled out onto the platform. A handful of people flowed around her and up the stairs. The guys in the suits brushed past without a glance. Victoria followed them up.
At the top of the stairs she realized she was holding her breath and let it out in a rush.
Manhattan whirled around her.
The smell of cooking meat and strange spices drifted from the food carts lining the sidewalk. Row upon row of yellow taxis and boxy trucks crowded the street. Pedestrians of all ages and ethnicities strode purposefully up and down the sidewalks. Something about them was different, and it took her a moment to realize that it was that nearly everyone was normal sized. Half of Omaha was obese, but here everyone was--if not quite thin--just normal . And they all were in a hurry to get somewhere.
Victoria wandered up the sidewalk and stopped. There was no horizon. She spun around in a circle, orienting toward Bryant Park. A patch of blue peeked over the buildings and the trees in that direction, but in every other direction it was just buildings
Gone to Boston for two days. Feel free to raid the cupboards for whatever you can find.
What happened to going to Manhattan and helping her get a job? Victoria scrounged up a bowl of cereal. When she finished, she sent Trent a text then went to the shower. While she was toweling off, her phone dinged.
I’d love to meet for dinner. I’ll be out of the office around 6. Meet u in midtown somewhere?
It sounded perfect.
The only problem was that she didn’t have the faintest idea where she was going. The thought of venturing into Manhattan alone was intimidating.
Call me when you leave work. I don’t know where I’m going.
Victoria arranged her clothes in her cupboard-sized closet, and about halfway through her suitcase she realized that there was no washer and dryer in the apartment. A quick trip downstairs didn’t reveal a laundry room, either. A few minutes with her phone revealed a trio of laundry places within walking distance, so she made a mental note to scope them out on her way to the train station.
A few more minutes on the phone showed the best way to get to Manhattan and end up only a couple blocks from Times Square. Victoria grinned. For someone from Omaha, Nebraska, Times Square was Manhattan. Well, that and the Statue of Liberty. And Central Park. And the Empire State Building. She couldn’t help but grin even bigger. New York was just so damn exciting.
The sun was shining high overhead as she left the apartment.
***
The subway station wasn’t nearly as scary as she expected. It had a musty smell, and the paint wasn’t exactly fresh, but it was well lit and the instructions on the ticket machine were simple enough to follow. She bought a pass and a week’s worth of rides, then went to find her train.
The train car was nicer than the station. Sure there was a homeless guy wandering car to car and singing for money, but most of the people just looked bored. A guy in a hoodie slouched on the bench beside her, white headphones plugged into his ears and his phone open in his palm. Across the car an older lady with a hairnet and a bag of groceries was reading Fifty Shades of Grey .
The car rattled down an incline, and the sunlight winked out as it dove under the river. Walls whisked past on either side, and a few moments later the train came to a stop. Victoria watched the lightboard above the door, double checking that it didn’t say Bryant Park. There were still a few stops to go, but she couldn’t remember how many. Lexington Avenue definitely wasn’t Bryant Park, though.
The old lady left and a pair of guys in rumpled suits took her place. It was easy to imagine them as bankers or businessmen or mafiosos. Did New York even have a mafia anymore? She’d have to ask Trent.
Eventually she reached her station and scrambled out onto the platform. A handful of people flowed around her and up the stairs. The guys in the suits brushed past without a glance. Victoria followed them up.
At the top of the stairs she realized she was holding her breath and let it out in a rush.
Manhattan whirled around her.
The smell of cooking meat and strange spices drifted from the food carts lining the sidewalk. Row upon row of yellow taxis and boxy trucks crowded the street. Pedestrians of all ages and ethnicities strode purposefully up and down the sidewalks. Something about them was different, and it took her a moment to realize that it was that nearly everyone was normal sized. Half of Omaha was obese, but here everyone was--if not quite thin--just normal . And they all were in a hurry to get somewhere.
Victoria wandered up the sidewalk and stopped. There was no horizon. She spun around in a circle, orienting toward Bryant Park. A patch of blue peeked over the buildings and the trees in that direction, but in every other direction it was just buildings
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