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Chapters (58)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Abbi Waxman and her novels
  3. Berkley Titles by Abbi Waxman
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Summer
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. FOUR
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. TWENTY-ONE
  28. TWENTY-TWO
  29. TWENTY-THREE
  30. TWENTY-FOUR
  31. TWENTY-FIVE
  32. TWENTY-SIX
  33. TWENTY-SEVEN
  34. TWENTY-EIGHT
  35. TWENTY-NINE
  36. THIRTY
  37. THIRTY-ONE
  38. THIRTY-TWO
  39. THIRTY-THREE
  40. THIRTY-FOUR
  41. THIRTY-FIVE
  42. THIRTY-SIX
  43. THIRTY-SEVEN
  44. Fall
  45. THIRTY-EIGHT
  46. THIRTY-NINE
  47. FORTY
  48. FORTY-ONE
  49. FORTY-TWO
  50. FORTY-THREE
  51. FORTY-FOUR
  52. FORTY-FIVE
  53. EPILOGUE
  54. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  55. Readers Guide
  56. Questions for Discussion
  57. About the Author
  58. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Oh, big. There are five bedrooms,” replied Polly. “Not including the landlord’s own space, but she has a whole floor.” She counted on her fingers. “Maggie has the top floor, she’s the owner, then on the second floor there are three bedrooms, and on the ground floor there are two. I guess they weren’t bedrooms to start with, they were a dining room and a sitting room, but now they’re bedrooms.” She smiled at Laura. “We share the kitchen and garden and there’s a pool and pets and it’s great.”

“I don’t know . . .” said Laura, feeling nervous about having roommates, especially ones who were so quick to take strangers home. “I don’t think I even have enough money for a deposit. I mean, I have savings, but first, last, and security . . .” She pulled a card from her pocket. “The landlord of the apartment building was there, and he said he’d pay for a hotel for a few nights. Maybe I should call him.” The card was wet, but the number was still legible. “I mean, you don’t even know me, I could be a serial killer.”

Polly laughed. “I doubt it, they’re pretty rare.”

Liz snorted darkly. “Or maybe they only rarely get caught, did you think about that?”

“Nope,” said Polly. “Besides, there’s something about her shoes that says reliable.” They all looked down at Laura’s admittedly sensible Hoka running shoes. Polly pulled out her phone and started dialing. “I’ll call my landlady right now.”

Laura opened her mouth to object but caught Liz’s eye. The older woman shook her head.

“You can’t stop her once she gets going,” she said, getting to her feet and heading off to sell books to word-hungry customers. “Accept your fate, rest here, and dry off.”

She and Polly left, pulling the door mostly closed behind them. Laura looked at the cat. The cat looked at her. Neither of them said anything, Laura because she didn’t speak cat and the cat because she was mentally composing a letter to her senator.

TWO

An hour and a half later, dressed in a very soft pair of sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt that said Fight Evil, Read Books on the front, Laura found herself sitting next to Polly on the way home. Polly had one of those adorable, bright orange Fiat 500s, and as her place was less than a mile away, the trip was mercifully brief. Laura was a nervous passenger but she did a good job of hiding it. Largely because Polly wasn’t paying any attention to her but was instead providing a potted history of the neighborhood.