Chapters (58)
- Cover
- Praise for Abbi Waxman and her novels
- Berkley Titles by Abbi Waxman
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Summer
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- Fall
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Readers Guide
- Questions for Discussion
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“I’m sorry,” said Nina. “Are you looking for a book?” She backed up a little, which caused her to step on the cat, who bit her on the ankle. Ferdinand had only just recovered from the loss of the towel, and being stepped on was a bridge too flipping far.
“Is it a Colles’ fracture?” asked Laura, still standing there dripping on the carpet. The thing to know about both Nina and Laura—though they didn’t realize it about each other at the time—is that they were both women of singular focus. Nina was obsessed with books, popular culture, movies, and anything meme-able. Laura was obsessed with sports, bones, muscles, and achieving a full range of motion. Unfortunately, Laura’s specific area of interest was making her come across as a bit of a nutter. Especially when you added damp, smoke, and the wild hair that was reminding Nina of Scandinavian Hagrid, which isn’t even a thing.
“I don’t know what kind of fracture it is,” Nina said crossly. “Are you from my health insurance company?” Her voice was surprisingly deep, and there was zero nonsense in her tone. Possibly even less than that.
Laura frowned. “No.”
“Are you from the city?” LA’s Occupational Safety and Health Division didn’t normally get involved in nonwork-related incidents, but Nina was taking no chances.
“No.” Laura took a step back and stomped on Polly, who was right behind her. She squeaked, but had more self-control than the store cat and didn’t bite Laura at all.
“Hey, Cerberus,” growled Liz dryly from beyond Laura’s shoulder, “this person needs a cup of tea, not an interrogation.”
“Liz?” said Nina.
“Yes,” replied her friend and business partner, pushing past Laura, who seemed to be frozen in place. “Who else would it be? This is not a surprise attack, an insurance checkup, or even a random piece of Dada performance art, it’s a damp customer who’s having a bad day and needs a cup of tea.” She bustled over to the kettle, flicking it on and turning around to raise her eyebrows at Nina. “Remember those people who sometimes come between you and your tidy shelves? The ones we depend upon for our livelihood?”
“Oh,” said Nina, squinting dubiously at Laura. “Yes . . . I remember them.”