Delia tapped her Jimmy Choo’s with barely disguised impatience, glaring at her watch. She was ready to go. The other two assholes she lived with were not, and the last thing Topher needed was to make a shit impression on his first day on the job because he couldn’t get his ass out of bed and away from his boyfriend.
“Gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, can you get your asses in gear and get out here? Someone has to be to work on time!” She hefted her bag higher on her shoulder and looked through the apartment to where it forked.
“And it’s not yours,” Topher said, rolling the sleeves on his white dress shirt up to his elbows as he emerged from his bedroom. “Miss Resume-Toting-Dance-a-holic.”
She flipped him the bird while eyeing him appraisingly. Black slacks, white dress shirt, and charcoal gray waistcoat with a burgundy silk tie for a spot of color. All complimented with gray Chucks. She leaned closer to see his tie knot.
“A tri-knot? Fancy.” Delia’s eyes narrowed. “Last I knew you couldn’t do a simple Windsor.”
Matt rubbed the back of his neck, shifting from foot to foot.
“Matty?” she asked.
“YouTube is a glorious thing,” Matt admitted. “But I couldn’t do it backwards, though I tried. That’s what took so long.”
Delia stamped her heel on their hardwood floor and gestured to the door. “We have a damn ferry to catch.”
“Coffee?” Topher asked hopefully.
“We’ll stop at a Starbucks, how ‘bout that?” Matt said, shoving Topher through the door. He checked to make sure the apartment was locked and followed the Stantons down the stairs.
Monday morning in New York, their first, was almost too damned bright and chipper. It was a little past six-thirty – Topher would rather be early than late – and they weren’t entirely sure where, exactly, they were going.
“We got a map?” Matt asked, hands on the straps of his blue JanSport backpack he’d had since middle school.
“Yes, I do,” Delia said, tapping at her phone. “Because Christ knows you two wouldn’t have stopped for directions on your own.”
They stopped at an intersection; Topher adjusted the strap on his messenger back where it lay across his chest with a muttered, “Keep this up and I’ll toss your ass in the river.”
She snorted. “Please. Like you would dare.”
Matt figured she had a point. Delia would most likely stab him with her Jimmy Choo if Topher tried to pick her up to toss her off the ferry. They’d be a bit up shit creek, too, as Topher didn’t have a will.
St. George Terminal was a bit more massive than Matt was prepared for, and he followed Topher and Delia through the process of getting Metro cards and then onto the orange monstrosity that would take them to Manhattan in a little bit of a wide-eyed stupor. He stood against the railing, gripping it tightly.
“Your first ferry ride?” Topher asked softly, standing by him and looking at the water below.
He nodded. “You?”
“Took one when I took Two Cities.” Topher rested his shoulder against Matt’s.
The ferry started forward. Delia joined them, bumping her elbow against Matt’s. “Feels like the first day of the rest of your life, doesn’t it?”
No, not really. That was when we came through the Poconos into Jersey and everything got a hell of a lot more real. Matt smiled wryly, and admitted, “A bit.” He leaned out, looking for the first sight of Manhattan. “But this just…just feels like - ”
YOU ARE READING
Three for the City
General FictionNearly one year after he moved into an off-campus apartment, Matt Winchester finds himself in a similar scenario in a different city. As always, Topher Stanton's there to ease the transition, and his cousin Delia is along for the ride. Matt hasn't c...
