Prologue
Blanca
You know the saying… when one door closes another door opens?
I’m assuming that applies even if you choose to close the door yourself, right? Don’t answer that. I’m gonna go with it because I prefer to live in fantasyland. Especially lately.
After quitting my finance job—the one I spent four years in college earning a degree in—I kyboshed my future in banking.
I wasn’t all that stellar at it anyway. I wasn’t horrible, but I wasn’t the shiny new graduate who followed my boss’s loafers like he was my master either. News flash, numbers are boring. Sure, my brother Dom gets a hard-on for them and so did most of my co-workers which should’ve been my first sign that I was the round peg forcing myself into a square hole.
That’s all why I thought that the day I reconnected with Sierra could be a sign even though I don’t usually believe in them.
I hadn’t seen Sierra Sanders for years. Sure, we were friends on Instagram and Snapchat. A heart here and a comment there. ‘You haven’t changed at all!’ Promises of future get-togethers that never happened.
But after my two weeks’ notice was up I headed out the doors of the building in the financial district of Manhattan with my big box of personal items. I’m Italian and I like to be homey at the office, don’t judge. And BAM. There’s Sierra Sanders, my childhood best friend from the neighborhood just sitting there under a tree with the sun shining down on her like she was waiting for me.
Okay, disclaimer. She wasn’t waiting for me. She was actually talking with someone and she wasn’t exactly sitting under the tree, she was standing by it with a camera aimed at her. I should mention, she’s a reporter for a small station outside the city.
I hovered and waited for her to finish talking to the arborist about the trees while the same picketers from last month corral behind him, fighting to fit their faces in the small camera frame to show their opposition to removing the original trees that had succumbed to some beetle invasion or another.
I thought maybe we could catch up over a cup of coffee or dinner. Or if she was heading to her dads, I could tag along with her on the train. Mama’s never upset over a surprise visit.
“Sierra!” I waved from the top of the stairs once she finished.
She looked around, finding me standing there and squinted. Yeah, that’s how long it’d been for us. We were the usual story of separate colleges tearing us apart after we swore they never would.
“Blanca?” She handed the mic to the camera guy and headed into my direction.
We met at the bottom of the concrete steps and she went in for a hug, but my box made it awkward, so she stopped trying after five attempts at different angles. Her eyes dipped to the contents of the box and her shoulders slumped.
“I’m sorry.” She ran a hand along my arm.
“Don’t be. I quit.”
Her eyes lit up and her back straightened. “Where are you off to next?”
I waved her off. “I don’t know yet, but that place was sucking the life out of me.”
“Then we need to celebrate. Come on.”
Before I could process what was happening, she told the camera guy to hop on the next train, and they’d go over the tape tomorrow. We walked over to a corner restaurant who was preparing for their dinner rush of traders and wannabe high rollers on Wall Street.
By the end of the conversation that was mostly about me, Sierra had opened the proverbial door for me.
“Move to Cliffton Heights. It’s so beautiful and you’re only an hour and a half train ride out of the city. You’ll be close to those heartthrob brothers and your parents. It’s perfect really because we just had a roommate leave.” The more she talked, the more excited we both became about the idea of us rekindling our friendship. “Oh my God, it’d be like what we always planned before you decided to switch colleges at the last minute.”
Oh shit, that’s why we kind of fell out of touch. I had forgotten. We had been all set to room together right before we graduated, and I switched course. That pissed her off because she had to room with a stranger. Can’t say I blame her.
“My other roommate, Rian, is awesome. Bakes all the time. She writes math textbooks for a living so it’s not like we party all the time. But we have fun too and oh, come on. I’ve missed you so much!”
She begged and pleaded. I’d always considered myself a New York City girl. But at that point in my life, watching my brothers’ fairy tales grow sweeter while I had no one and nothing, a fresh start sounded perfect. A change of scenery. A place to reinvent myself. And I missed her too.
“I’d love to,” I said without even having a job to pay the rent. I knew some people commuted to the city, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to ride the train for three hours a day. But that was a problem for another day. The first of many.
Let me tell you, hindsight really is twenty-twenty and it comes back to bite you in the ass, because now, months later, I wish I would’ve pried her for more information. I should’ve asked more questions because it wasn’t just Sierra and a new beginning on the other side of that proverbial door—he was standing there too. And he was already a part of Sierra’s life. Sure, her past life, but hers all the same.
Chapter One
Blanca
I trudge up the steps of the train, smile at the conductor and walk through the doors to the seating area. With an ‘oomph’ I fall into the last seat of the last car on the last train from New York City. Destination: my new home, Cliffton Heights.
With me is a container of meatballs from my family’s Sunday night dinner and I place my jacket over the container to try and stop the smell from leaking throughout the train car—an impossible feat.
My phone dings so I pull it out of my bag. Of course it’s from my oldest brother in the thread we share with our other two brothers.
Dom: You on the train?
Me: Yeah.
Carm: Don’t talk to strangers.
Me: Okay. *eye roll emoji*
Enzo: Text us as soon as you get into your apartment.
Me: Sure thing. *military salute emoji*
You’d think they’d trust me more than they do, what with me being twenty-eight and all. To them, I’ll always be the baby sister.
Enzo: I have no idea why you wouldn’t let us just pay for an Uber.
Enzo is the second born and probably the most paranoid about safety. I’m out of the big city now, but moving an hour and a half train ride away is apparently more nerve-wracking than when I was smack dab in the middle of New York City. I even gave them the stats on crime in Cliffton Heights compared to New York. But to them, Cliffton Heights is a foreign land and until they come and see how beautiful it is, and most importantly how safe, I should expect nothing less from them.
Me: Because I’m an adult and I enjoy the train.
Carm: Don’t pick anyone up.