“I can’t believe how much she’s grown since I last saw her,” Kelseysaid.
Which was four daysago.
“She’s a regular little bean sprout,” I said, grinning at my sleepingdaughter.
My phone pinged an incoming text. I glanced at thescreen.
Drew:Interview all set. They’re looking forward to meeting with you thisafternoon.
What was that allabout?
Drew had convinced me to at least meet with the company who had been interested in me joining their investment team. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least see what they had to say since I was in New YorkCity.
The home of WallStreet.
The place I had originally longed to work—until I landed the job offer in San Francisco. This job was a step up from my current one, with the potential for other greatopportunities.
The job offer in Australia? I had told them the other day that I wasn’tinterested.
I hugged Trent and glanced around the crowded area. “Is Joshhere?”
And in case you were wondering—Josh didn’t know about theinterview.
Not yet anyway. I decided to see how it wentfirst.
“No, we’ll meet up with him later,” Trent said. “The team’s practicing and then they’ve got ameeting.”
Oh. Later was when I had myinterview.
While we waited for my luggage, I caught up on everything they had done in the short time they’d been here. Trent had gone to Columbia University and had been dying to show Kelsey thecity.
Eventually my luggage arrived on the carousel and Trent removed it, then we headed to the parkade and their rentalcar.
For those of you who are familiar with Manhattan, you are no doubt on the floor now, having laughed so hard you fell off yourchair.
The rest of you are scratching your heads, wondering what was so funny. There’s a reason the majority of cars on the streets of Manhattan are cabs. And there’s a reason most New Yorkers ride the subway or hop in a cab to get around. From what Trent had told me, parking in New York City isexpensive.
Not to mention New York City drivers are certifiablynuts.
Don’t believe me? Then you have obviously never been here. Sit on the beach in San Francisco and what do you hear? The swoosh of the wind, the crashing waves against the shore, the squawking ofseagulls.
What do you hear when you stand on the corner of Broadway and 42ndStreet?
Constant honking—the 24-7 honking that doesn’t involve agoose.
As Trent drove us from the airport, the tall Manhattan skyscrapers beckoned to me—told me this was where Ibelonged.
“What do you think?” I asked Lily, who was still asleep and probably didn’t have an opinion either way. At least not yet—at least not for a few moreyears.
But instead of driving to Manhattan like I’d expected, we drove past the city toward LongIsland.
“Where are we going?” Iasked.
“You’ll see,” Kelsey said, smiling, although I got the idea she was fighting to keep fromgrinning.
Just as I was beginning to wonder if Trent was driving us to Canada, he pulled into the parking lot of a small indoor skating rink. Only one other car was parked init.
“Why are we here?” Iasked.
