BooksBarbecue
Back Gilt
Chapters (82)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY JAMIE BRENNER
  3. PART ONE
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. PART TWO
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. PART THREE
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. Acknowledgments
  81. About the Author
  82. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Oh?” She hurried closer to the desk. Umberto handed her a slip of paper with three words on it: Call your father.

Of course, she imagined the worst: that something had happened to her mother or one of her sisters. She hadn’t heard from Celeste, toiling away in grad school, in a while. And she never heard from Elodie, who worked long hours in the family business and was about as much fun as a root canal.

Paulina did a quick time difference calculation and realized it was only five a.m. in New York. But her father was an early riser. She hurried to the phone banks on the far side of the lobby. Her hand shook as she punched in all the numbers for the collect trans-Atlantic call.

“It’s about time!” her father said without so much as a hello. She supposed she deserved it.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I literally just got the message from the front desk.” Well, it wasn’t a lie. “Is everything okay? Is it Mom?”

“Everything—everyone is fine. But I do need you to come back to the city.”

“When?” She knew she would have to go home eventually, but she was in no rush. She felt better out from under the shadow of her older sisters, brainy Celeste and ambitious Elodie. She didn’t want to have to answer her parents’ nagging questions about what she planned to “do” with her life. As far as she could tell, she was doing what she planned to do. It seemed self-evident to her.

“I want you on a plane tomorrow. We have a big family event coming up.”

“Dad! I need more notice than that.”

“You’d have had more notice if you returned my first message forty-eight hours ago. Oh—one more thing. Bring a boyfriend. Your sisters are bringing dates.”

“I’m not seeing anyone right now, Dad.”

“Well, that’s a first,” he said. “Either way, let me know what time your flight lands so I can send the driver.”

She hung up the phone with a sigh. So much for seeing the barista in his bathing suit.

No matter how much time Celeste spent away from her parents’ Park Avenue apartment, it always felt like she’d just left. It never changed.

The first thing her boyfriend, Brodie, said when they walked into her parents’ duplex was, “I didn’t believe people really lived like this.”