Collide
Langue : anglais
Edité par CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2013
Série : Livre 1 sur 2 - Collide
- Livre broché
- Occasion

Vendeur : ThriftBooks-Atlanta, AUSTELL, GA, Etats-UnisThriftBooks-Atlanta
Vendeur AbeBooks depuis 24 mars 2009
Etat: Occasion - Assez bon
EUR 6,38
Quantité disponible : 1 disponible(s)
Ajouter au panierItem description from seller
May have limited writing in cover pages. Pages are unmarked. ~ ThriftBooks: Read More, Spend Less.
N° de réf. du vendeur G1481837125I4N00
- Titre
- Collide
- Auteur
- Gail McHugh
- Éditeur
- CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- Année de publication
- 2013
- État de l'article
- Very Good
- Jaquette
- No Jacket
- Reliure
- Paperback
- Langue
- anglais
- ISBN à 10 chiffres
- 1481837125
- ISBN à 13 chiffres
- 9781481837125
- Poids de l'article
- 1,4 livre
- Série
- Livre 1 sur 2: Collide
« Synopsis » peut appartenir à une autre édition de cet ouvrage.
Extrait
Chapter One
Chance Encounters
She calculated the flight from Colorado to New York at three hours and forty-five minutes, after which she knew her life would be forever changed—more so than it already had. Gripping the sides of the seat, palms sweaty, Emily Cooper closed her eyes as the engines prepared for takeoff. She had never been fond of flying; in fact, it scared the living shit out of her. Though she remembered times when the torture of being thirty thousand feet in the air was actually worthwhile: the first time she left home for college, an escape to a tropical island, or a visit to see her beloved family. However, this trip held no enjoyment—it held only feelings of loss and grief.
Looking at her was one of the reasons she still woke up every day—her boyfriend, Dillon. She could tell he noticed the look on her face was filled with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
As he held her hand, Dillon leaned over and stroked a piece of hair away from her face. “Everything’s going to be all right, Em,” he whispered. “Before you know it, we’ll be on the ground again.”
She forced a smile and hesitantly turned, watching the snowcapped mountains disappear beneath the clouds. Her heart sank further as she inwardly said good-bye to the only true home she had ever known. She rested her head against the window and let her mind drift over the past several months.
In late October of her senior year in college, she received the call. Until that moment, life had seemed . . . good. Dillon had come into her world the month before, her grades were where they should be, and her roommate, Olivia Martin, had turned out to be one of the closest friends she would ever have. Picking up the phone that day, she never expected the news she received.
“The tests came back, Emily,” her older sister, Lisa, had said. “Mom has stage-four breast cancer.”
With those last six words, life as Emily knew it would never be the same. Not even close. Her rock, the woman whom she adored most in her life, and the only parent she had ever known had less than three months to live. She could never have prepared for what followed. Long weekend trips from The Ohio State University to Colorado to aid in her mother’s last few months became Emily’s norm. She watched her mother wither away from the strong, vibrant soul she had once been to the weak, unrecognizable woman she became before she died.
With sudden turbulence jolting her nerves, Emily gripped Dillon’s hand and looked over at him. He gave her a quick smile and nod, essentially letting her know they were fine. Resting her head against his warm shoulder, she started to think about the role he had played through everything: countless flights from New York to Colorado to be with her, beautiful gifts he sent to take her mind off the madness that consumed her life, late-night calls talking with her to make sure she was okay. Even down to arranging the funeral, giving her advice on selling her childhood home, and ultimately moving her out to New York. It was all part of why she adored him.
As the plane descended into New York’s LaGuardia Airport, Dillon looked at Emily while her hand was white-knuckling his. He gave a light chuckle and leaned over to kiss her. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he said, stroking her cheek. “You’re now officially a New Yorker, babe.”
After what seemed like forever navigating their way through the airport, Dillon hailed a taxi, and they made their way to the apartment Emily would share with Olivia. That had become a sore topic with Dillon. When he and Emily had spoken about the move, it was his wish to have her live with him. Emily thought it was best, at least for the time being, that she move in with Olivia. Making the trek across the country was a hard enough adjustment by itself, and she didn’t want to add more pressure to her situation. Even though she loved Dillon—and she loved him something fierce—a tiny voice in her head told her to wait. Living together would come further down the line for them. He eventually gave in but not without putting up a decent fight.
Once they arrived, Emily stepped out of the taxi. The sounds and sights of the city immediately hit her. Car alarms blaring, brakes grinding, and sirens wailing shattered through the air. People talking and yelling, their footsteps pounding against the busy concrete sidewalks, and the frantic flow of tightly packed cars consisting of a sea of yellow taxis were unlike anything she had ever seen or heard before. Steam billowing from manholes looked like ghosts floating up from the hot pavement.
The sprawling trees and clear lakes in Colorado were now being replaced by steel and concrete, loud noises, and a clusterfuck of traffic. This was definitely something she would have to get used to. Drawing in a deep breath, Emily followed Dillon into the building. The doorman tipped his hat and buzzed Olivia, letting her know they were there. They made their way up to the fifteenth floor, thankful for the elevator.
When they entered the apartment, Olivia let out a high-pitched squeal. She raced over and gave Emily a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!” Olivia said, cupping her hands over Emily’s cheeks. “How was the flight?”
“I got through it without needing any drugs or alcohol.” Emily smiled. “So I would say it went well.”
“She was fine.” Dillon walked over and snaked his arm around Emily’s waist. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to her anyways.”
Rolling her brown eyes in Dillon’s direction, Olivia crossed her arms. “Right, because you’d be able to stop a plane from crashing, Dill Pickle. I mean—Dillon.”
Dillon shot Olivia a hard look and placed Emily’s luggage on the floor. “That’s right, Oliver Twist. I’m fucking Superman, so don’t forget it.”
Emily sighed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been around you both at the same time. I forgot how fond you two are of one another.”
Olivia smirked and reached for Emily’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you around the place.” Pulling Emily down the hall, Olivia turned around to Dillon. “Make yourself useful and unpack her belongings or something, Donkey Dick Kong.”
Ignoring Olivia, Dillon sank onto the couch and flipped on the television.
“Oh my God, Olivia,” Emily giggled, following behind her. “Where the hell do you think up these names for him?”
“Pfft.” Olivia waved a dismissive hand. “He makes it easy.”
“Well, you both are going to drive me nuts now. I can feel it.”
“I make no promises, but I’ll try my best to refrain from doing so, friend.”
As Olivia gave the grand tour, Emily noticed the sleek, modern apartment included two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Although modest in size, the kitchen held white antique cabinetry, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. A large window in the living room paraded the direction of Columbus Avenue, a nice area in New York’s Upper West Side. The apartment was breathtakingly beautiful, and without Olivia, Emily could never have afforded it—at least, not without Dillon’s help. Although Olivia worked and took care of herself, she came from a well-to-do family, so money was never a problem. Despite growing up on Long Island’s North Shore, Olivia and her brother, Trevor, were two of the most down-to-earth people Emily had ever met.
After helping Emily settle in, Dillon left, letting Emily know he would be back later that evening. Promptly grabbing a bottle of red wine and two glasses, Olivia dragged Emily to the couch.
Tossing her champagne-blonde hair to the side, Olivia gave Emily a bittersweet smile. “I know you’ve been through a ton, but I’m really happy you’re here.”
Emily’s smile matched Olivia’s. Her emotions were divided between sadness about the circumstances landing her in New York and happiness from taking a huge leap in her relationship with Dillon by moving out there—even if she wasn’t living with him. She took a sip of wine and propped her feet on the ottoman. “I’m happy, too, friend.”
Olivia wore a curious expression. “Did Dick give you any more hell about the living arrangements?”
“No, he didn’t,” she remarked, “but he definitely wants me to move into a place with him by the end of the summer.”
“Well, you tell him he’s going to have to fight me off during that battle.” She huffed. Shaking her head, Emily laughed at Olivia’s statement. “I’m serious, Em. He needs to give you some space right now with this move.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere for a while.” Emily glanced around the apartment. Her eyes rested on the stacks of moving boxes in the corner. “I’m really not looking forward to that.” She gestured toward them with her head.
“I don’t have to work tomorrow,” Olivia replied, pouring her second glass of wine. “We’ll do it then. For now, let’s just relax a bit.”
Over the next few hours, that’s exactly what they did: relaxed. No talks of cancer. No talks of death. No talks of life’s expectations. Just two close friends sharing a bottle of wine in their apartment as one began a new chapter in her book of life.
***
Two weeks later, Emily stood in front of an Italian restaurant located in Midtown Manhattan. She pushed the door open to what would be her new job for the summer. She scanned the place for the man who’d hired her a few days before: Antonio D’Dinato, a native New Yorker in his late twenties.
“There you are, Emily.” Antonio smiled as he approached. “Are you ready for your first day?”
Smiling, she took in his dark, shoulder-length hair. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“A little overwhelming for a Colorado country girl, but I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”
She followed him into the kitchen, where he introduced her to the cooks on the line. Each had a friendly smile, but Emily knew, from waitressing her way through college, that their friendliness would soon come to an end. Eventually, they would yell at her to pick up her orders from the window, and no doubt their faces would be less jovial. She threw on her black apron while Antonio directed her to a waitress around her age. With a smile on her face, Emily studied the other waitress’s hair. It was a rainbow fest of every color imaginable streaking through an overlay of bleached blonde.
“Hi, I’m Emily.” Emily smiled as she approached her. “Antonio said I’m shadowing you today.”
The girl returned the smile and handed Emily an order book and a pen. “So you’re the new cat on the block, huh? I’m Fallon; it’s nice to meet you.”
“Yep, the new cat. It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Well, have no worries. I think I started working here straight out of the birth canal.” Her laughing gray eyes were wide. “I’ll show you the ropes, and before you know it, you’ll be able to run around here with a blindfold on.”
“Sounds good to me.” Emily laughed.
“I heard you’re from Colorado?”
“Yes, Fort Collins, actually.”
“You drink?” Fallon asked, offering her a cup of coffee.
“One of my addictions.” Emily took the cup. “Thank you. Have you lived in New York your whole life?”
“Born and raised.” Fallon sat at the coffee bar, gesturing for Emily to join her. “It’s early yet. The rush will start within an hour or so.”
Emily sat next to her and sipped her coffee. She glanced around the restaurant, watching the busboys set up the tables. Antonio spoke to them in what Emily assumed was Spanish. His voice rose anxiously as he motioned out to the streets of New York.
“So what brings you across the country to the city that never sleeps?” Fallon asked. “Are you an actress or a model? Which is it?”
“Nah, neither,” she replied, trying to ignore the pain anchoring itself in her chest. The fresh wound still felt as if salt had been sprinkled over it. “My, uh, mother passed away in January. There was really no reason to stay out there after she died.”
Fallon’s face softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. Death definitely fucking sucks, that’s for sure. My dad died a few years ago from a heart attack, so I know how you feel.” Fallon sighed and looked away for a moment. “No matter what age, race, or economic status we hold, death touches us all at one time or another.”
Emily found her comment wise beyond her age, but then again, she knew death seemed to bring out a completely different way of looking at life once someone was gone. “It does. I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”
“Thanks. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him.” Fallon paused. “What about your dad? Did he move out here with you?”
Another sore topic, but sore topics had become plentiful and unavoidable. “Nope. I haven’t had any contact with him or his family since I was five. I really don’t remember him.”
“I’m batting zero here with you,” Fallon joked. “Sorry. Maybe I should ask about puppies or something?”
Shaking her head, Emily smiled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s cool. Besides, I don’t have any puppies, so that would be a dead end.”
“Neither do I. They’re cute, but I don’t do the shitting all over the place that well.” Fallon laughed, tossing her hair into a ponytail. “So what made you come to New York specifically? Do you have any other family here?”
“Not here. I have an older sister in California.” Emily sipped her coffee. “But my boyfriend, Dillon, lives here. We started dating during my last year of college.”
Fallon smiled. “College sweethearts, huh?”
“No, actually, he was already living here when we met. My roommate’s brother visited her one weekend, and Dillon went with him.”
“Isn’t it amazing—the paths that bring people together?” Fallon stared into Emily’s eyes. “I mean, had your Dillon not taken the trip with your roommate’s brother, you two would’ve never met. Life is all kinds of weird like that.”
Emily knew she instantly liked Fallon. “I totally agree. Fate and the roads that get placed in front of us. It’s like one huge puzzle that ultimately fits in the end.”
“Exactly.” Fallon smiled. “So, what did you study in school?”
“I graduated with a teaching degree. I’ve started to put out some résumés, hoping to land something for this fall.”
Fallon frowned, her lip ring shimmering in the light. “So you’ll be leaving us by the end of the summer?”
“Nah, I’ll probably work part-time then.”
“Cool beans.” She stood, her tall, lengthy frame towering over Emily’s. “So, do you club?”
Emily wrinkled her brows. “Club?”
“Yeah, go out clubbing,” Fallon replied, shaking her hips from side to side.
“Oh, you mean dancing.” Emily laughed. “Yes, in Colorado I did, but I have yet to do it here.”
“Killer. I love breaking in newbies to the club scene.”
“Well, I’m down for getting broken in. Let me know when.”
“I will. I’m dating this guy in his forties, and he gets me into some of New York’s hottest clubs with no cover charge at all.”
Emily nodded and sipped her coffee.
“The sex is just a bonus,” Fallon added.
Emily nearly choked on said coffee. “Oh, that would definitely be a bonus for sure.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” She smiled. “Okay, new girl, let’s get going.”
Throughout the day, Emily followed Fallon. She showed her how to use the computer and introduced her to quite a few of the restaurant’s regulars. They varied from upscale business-suit types to your “Average Joe” construction worker. A heavy lunch rush came around noon, and one of the waiters called in sick, so Emily took a few tables. Even though she wasn’t familiar with the menu and felt shaky on the computer, she made it through without any major probl...
« A propos de ce titre » peut appartenir à une autre édition de cet ouvrage.
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