Thirst (The Calvettis of New York 1)

It’s what Rhoda lives for. She lines up a handful of people looking to launch their start-ups. They pitch their ideas to the three of us. If any of us see potential, an offer may be made to invest in their products, their companies or sometimes their visions.

I used to enjoy those sessions more than I do now, but that’s how Silas landed in my life, so I won’t turn my back on potential.

“I’m in.”

“Lenore will gather the info and send you an email.” He tosses his wife a wink. “Come on back to my office and give me the details on the opportunity that brought you here this early.”

The only thing that brought me here this early was my reluctance to stay in my apartment a minute longer. The four walls offer me comfort most of the time, but some mornings, like today, the silence is deafening.

Chapter 7

Dexie

I study the bag slung over the shoulder of one of my favorite people in the world. Mabel Husher burst into my life four months ago.

She grabbed hold of my purse on the subway. I had my hand in the air to push her off of me before I was turned around.

When I realized it was a petite, gray-haired diva gripping the leather strap, I calmed the hell down.

All she wanted was a closer look at the navy blue handbag I was carrying and the name of the designer.

I handed her my card, and since that day she’s bought three custom pieces from me, including the soft gray leather tote that I’m staring at now.

I’m the worst when it comes to critiquing my handiwork. I always find a small flaw whenever I revisit a bag I worked on in the past. In the case of Mabel’s gray tote, I spot the end of a loose thread dangling near the base of one of the straps.

“I didn’t expect to see you today, Mabel.” I step aside to allow a group of my co-workers to board the elevator that leads up to the Matiz Cosmetics corporate offices.

I’m on my lunch break and since I didn’t have time to pack a sandwich at home, I need to grab something quick that will hold me over until quitting time.

I stayed at Sophia’s penthouse last night after she showed up and dragged me from my ninety plus degree apartment.

I would have been more than happy to spend the night staring at my neighbor, but Sophia was insistent that I go home with her.

By the time I got back to my apartment this morning, the air conditioner was working and my handsome neighbor was nowhere in sight.

“I was on my way to your office to see you.” Mabel looks me over. “I don’t know how you get away with pairing a red dress with purple shoes and a yellow bag, but it works on you.”

It does work.

I once bought into the idea that fashion has to follow a prescribed path, but those days are over. My style is as unique as I am and I like it that way.

Mabel is wearing a sleek black dress and matching shoes. The brief glimpse of a red sole that I spotted as I stepped off the elevator wasn’t surprising.

It’s only ever the best for Mabel, which is why I’m still shocked that she carries my bags around Manhattan paired with her designer clothes and shoes.

I take her compliment with a smile. “What can I help you with?”

I’m hoping it’s another new bag. Mabel has never balked at the price I’ve charged her. It’s expensive, but she’s the one who told me that my talent was priceless.

“Can we sit?” She gestures at a fabric-covered bench across the lobby.

My stomach grumbles a response, but I ignore it. “Of course.”

I follow closely behind her, taking note of the slight limp in her gait. I have no idea how old she is, but I do know that she gets around Manhattan with the same precision and speed as someone my age.

I settle in next to her on the bench, running my fingertip around the edge of a fading brown stain on the off-white twill fabric. It was a drip from a cup of coffee in my hand months ago that blemished the otherwise pristine cushion.

She turns to face me. The large diamond on her ring finger catches the light as she folds her hands in her lap. “Did I ever mention my sister to you?”