Scurrying, she tracked Jenn’s blonde head, weaving through crowds and out the door. Wedging her bag between her knees, she slid into the back of a cab. The car lurched into traffic, and Tessa jolted against the seat. She fastened her seatbelt and clung white-knuckled to the door handle while Jenn, completely at ease, pointed out her favorite haunts. The cab smelled like incense and ham sandwiches, and, slightly queasy, Tessa gladly tumbled out twenty minutes later in front of Jenn’s ultra-modern high-rise on the Upper West Side.

Sliding glass doors whooshed aside, revealing a uniformed doorman behind an imposing desk.

He dipped his chin. “Welcome home, Ms. Sweet.”

Her roommate flirted shamelessly with the old gentleman until he finally cracked a smile and handed over a bundle of dry cleaning. Jenn always loved a challenge. Tessa gestured to the plastic-wrapped suits. “They deliver dry cleaning to your house?”

Jenn hit the button for the twentieth floor and rested an elbow on the elevator wall. “Nice perk, huh? Adam’s working a ridiculous schedule and won’t be home for hours. I thought we’d order food and pop some popcorn, and if we feel like it, stream a movie. If you can stand to spend an evening in with little ol’ me.”

She sighed. “I can’t imagine anything better.” The elevator gave a cheerful ding, and the door opened soundlessly. In contrast to the dim, interior hallway, Jenn’s living room was a lofty expanse, blindingly white in the afternoon sunlight.

Jenn clicked a remote, and translucent blinds lowered halfway down a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, filtering the glare.

Shielding her eyes, Tessa spotted one or two knick-knacks from their college suite, but the furniture radiated brand-newness. It was sleek and modern with funky, graphic throw pillows and accent pieces right off the design room floor. On the far side of the room, a marble-topped counter separated the dining area from an airy, open kitchen. The space was full of hard surfaces and ninety-degree angles—stunning but cold—a feeling she never before associated with her dear roomie.

“Not bad for an army brat from Virginia, huh?” Jenn hopped onto an industrial-style stool and dug into the bag of treats.

“This place is amazing.”

“Don’t look at me. Adam’s parents have more money than God. I’m just lucky if I make my half of the rent each month.” She chuckled deep in her chest. “Ah! You brought jellybeans.” Jenn tore open the bag and popped a few onto her tongue. “The bathroom’s down the hall. You’ll sleep in the office on the pullout couch. Don’t worry—it’s comfy. I crash there those rare nights Adam’s such an ogre I can’t stand to be in the same room.”

She moved to the windows and gazed over the city. Rooftop gardens, terraces, and hidden backyards unfolded like an urban patchwork quilt.

“And flowers. Did you grow these?”