BooksBarbecue
Back When We Were Bright and Beautiful Save as PDF
Chapters (72)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Part One
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. Part Two
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. Part Three
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. Epilogue
  68. Author’s Note
  69. Acknowledgments
  70. About the Author
  71. Also by Jillian Medoff
  72. About the Publisher

In the backseat, Nate reaches across Billy to nudge me. We need to fix this.

33

HOURS LATER, NATE PUSHES ME TO GO FOR A DRINK. “LET’S get out of this house. Put on your shoes, Cassie.”

“You barely speak to me. Why should I go anywhere with you?”

Snatching a Columbia ballcap off a hook, he pauses. “Please.”

Feeling pathetic but grateful for his attention, I follow him out the door like a dutiful dog.

When we step into the muggy night, he asks a valet to hail a cab. I look around for Anton or Joey, but neither is working. “Isn’t it weird that Anton hired Joey?” I ask Nate, wondering what they told Haggerty about me. “Have you spoken to him?”

“To Joey? About what? We have nothing in common. For one thing, he’s gainfully employed.” Nate’s voice is clipped. “And no, it’s not weird at all. These jobs get passed down all the time. You’ve lived in this building your whole life, Cassie. How do you not know that?”

“Nate, what’s your problem? Are you mad because I’ve been away? I come home every time you call. Is it because I blew off the foundation? I’m sorry I left you in the lurch, but it’s been over a year, and you have to let it go.”

A cab pulls up, and we slide into the back. Nate directs the driver to Mercer Street, and then says, “Cassie, this may come as a shock, but not everything is about you. I don’t give a shit that you went to grad school. Your life is your life. Be free and prosper. Nor do I care about the foundation. I’m aware this project is more pie-in-the-sky bullshit from my father. At the moment, Billy is my primary concern. Mom and Dad are headed for mutually assured destruction. We need to figure something out.”

The city is quiet. The cabdriver navigates the empty streets, and we make it down to Tribeca in record time. “Thanks, man.” Nate hands him a fifty. “Keep it.”

He leads me inside a sports bar, where we’re hit with a blast of cool air and loud music. The interior is upscale and clubby, with polished wood floors and leather stools. Large-screen TVs hang on the walls, each showing a different sport—baseball, soccer, golf.

“Hey, Tess.” Nate introduces me to the bartender. She’s a slender brunette with short, spiky hair and muscular arms. “Two Absolut and tonics. Double limes for my sister, please.”

“You remembered the limes.” This makes me so irrationally happy I almost tear up.

“It’s a lime, Cassie, not a kidney. Why are you always such a drama queen?”

“I don’t know, Nate.” I shake my head. “Why can’t you just let me have it?”

Our drinks arrive. We clink glasses then sit. It’s not uncomfortable.

“Dad says you start classes next week. Excited?”