Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
She was probably a Northeastern student and looked about seventeen or eighteen, around my age. She was wearing a long flowing skirt that spun around with her and had red curly hair cascading down her back. She was pretty damn cute.
Her eyes were closed now as she lifted her head and opened her mouth to drink some of the falling rain. She didn’t notice me as I stood there taking in the sight of her. She twirled around again reaching her arms out to slap the raindrops.
“Hey,” I finally said.
The girl stopped short, looking startled, opened her eyes and smiled. “Oh…Hey.”
“Do you always dance in the rain like that?”
She glanced down at Holly. “Do you always pick up babies at Walmart?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I’m Jake,” I said holding out my hand.
She didn’t extend hers, but smiled. “Jake, is that your baby?”
“Nah, it’s my niece. She has a twin sister who’s with their grandmother, but this one prefers me, so I take her a couple of mornings a week. We hang so my sister can get stuff done.”
Holly was reaching her fat little hand out, and the girl took it. She smelled like patchouli and whispered something to Holly then stared back at me, but said nothing.
I wasn’t entirely sure why I was still standing there, but there was something very intriguing about her. A guitar case was lying on the ground a few feet away, and it made me wonder if she played or studied music. I was just enjoying living in the moment with her under the falling rain.
Finally, she looked down at my arms and said, “I like your tattoos. They’re hot.”
“Thanks. You’re pretty hot yourself,” I said.
“You don’t strike me as the babysitting type, Jake.”
“Yeah, well, things aren’t always what they seem on the surface.”
I had no idea back then how prophetic that statement would become…when it came to her.
There was a rumble of thunder in the distance, and she finally cracked a smile. Then, came the three words that would change my life. “Hi, I’m Ivy.”
SIX YEARS LATER
CHAPTER 1
NINA
“Welcome to Brooklyn,” my driver, Reza, said as he helped me out of the yellow cab. He took my bags out of the trunk, and I handed him a tip.
“Thanks. It was nice chatting,” I said before watching him drive away, leaving me alone to face my new life.
I wasn’t quite ready for it to begin, so I stood on the sidewalk staring up at the aging building that was now home as cars on the busy street sped by.
The apartment I’d be living in with three roommates sat atop a Greek restaurant called Eleni’s, and the smell of lemon, garlic and grilling chicken saturated the air outside.
This neighborhood was nothing like the small rural town where I was from, upstate in the Hudson Valley. Seriously, this could be an episode of MTV’s The Real World: Country bumpkin afraid of trains and crowds moves to New York. Let’s chronicle her trials and tribulations and watch in amusement as the big city swallows her up whole and spits her out.
The vibe was different here, and I could immediately tell there would be loads of culture. The area seemed cosmopolitan and small townish at the same time and reminded me of movies like Goodfellas. I got chills because even though it scared the daylights out of me, it had always been my dream to live near Manhattan. Brooklyn was as close as I was gonna get.
It was the middle of the afternoon, so I was pretty sure my roommates, whom I hadn’t even met yet, would be working. I wanted to take the time to get acclimated to the apartment alone, maybe take a bath.
I’d be living with my childhood friend Ryan and two other people: a guy and a girl whose names I didn’t even know. When I was accepted into Long Island University’s nursing program at the Brooklyn campus, I immediately contacted Ryan to see if he could help me find an apartment. It just so happened that one of his roommates had recently moved out, so the timing was perfect.
The steps creaked as I made my way upstairs. The faint sound of a woman swearing when I passed by the second floor made me wonder about the neighbors.
Our apartment was on the third floor, and I struggled with the key before slowly opening the door, which lead right into the main living area.
It was nicer than I had expected. There was a small kitchen off to the left, and everything was open concept. I looked around and noticed how homey the living room was, with a brown suede sectional and a multi-colored, knitted throw on top that looked like someone’s grandmother had made it. There was a brick wall that added character and built-in bookshelves on the other side of the room next to a large window with a reading nook that let in generous sunlight. The apartment smelled like coffee, and there was some leftover in a pot on the kitchen counter. It felt like I was invading someone else’s house. I had to remind myself that this was my home now.