“So you’ve said. Though I still think your arrangement is weird. Who agrees to get married when they hit thirty only if nothing else works out?”
“We did.” She didn’t expect Chris to understand. Eva had begun to realize that while love affairs were a fabulous, fireworks-filled pleasure, when it came to choosing a life partner and future father of her children, she wasn’t going to get much better than her best male friend, Zac, master’s candidate at Cal Poly and regular at Slow Pour. It was precisely because they didn’t burn so hot that she knew he’d be a good solid match, one that actually lasted.
But they still had a year and a half before that commitment. And as much as she adored Zac and he adored her, neither of them had yet given up hope they could find another soul mate they could also be frantic to tangle up the sheets with.
“At NYEspresso you’ll have to deal with people screaming at you because you aren’t moving fast enough or the line isn’t moving fast enough. People act as if you’re put on the planet only to serve them.”
“I look forward to the challenge.”
Chris giggled. “I can’t believe we’re doing this!”
“What, turning our hometowns into horrific stereotypes?”
“Well, yes, but I meant switching lives. Are you heading over to NYEspresso tonight?”
“Uh-huh.” Eva couldn’t wait to be in the place, knowing it was hers, however temporarily. “I think I can just make it over there before closing.”
Chris snorted. “Yeah, figure how much time you’ll need realistically, then add half an hour for delays and waiting and crowds and—”
“At least I get to go somewhere.” At home her commute was down the hill and around a corner. Not a lot of sights to take in. “I want to meet your staff, make sure they’re ready to have me take over for a month.”
“They’ll be thrilled. I’ve been such a bitch lately.”
“You?” Eva scoffed. “Never!”
“Uh-huh. You take care, twin.”
“You, too.” Eva hung up the phone, bursting with excitement. Traffic and street noise reached her window. Civilization actually happened here—this was real life! She couldn’t wait to get started. But first, deep breaths, a little meditation to get the nerves under control, calm her down so she didn’t appear too frazzled when she met her crew at NYEspresso.
She sat cross-legged on the scuffed hardwood floor and closed her eyes, loosened her consciousness from her surroundings, swaying slightly to keep herself off balance, clearing her mind, trying to connect to the wise voice deep inside her that never failed to—
The apartment door burst open, making her jump. Must be Chris’s roommate, new since Eva had last visited. Natalie worked near NYEspresso and had mentioned to Chris one day that she needed a roommate. According to Chris, Natalie was either trying to get into bed with a guy or getting kicked out of bed by a guy in one of the most misguided searches for love Chris had ever seen, but she was good-hearted—once she got to know you.
Eva was totally curious to meet her.
“Yeah? Well, screw you, Edward.” Heels clunked furiously down the hallway. “Yeah? You really think that? Dream on, buddy, and guess what, you suck in bed.”
Uh. That was not a person connected to her wise inner voice.
“No, let me tell you, you son-of-a— Oh. Hi.” She stopped outside Eva’s doorway, nearly six feet of stunning brunette, who probably weighed less than Eva, all of five-four. “I’ll call you back, Edward. No? Well, fine. I won’t. Ever. Up yours.”
“Hi.” Eva was having a hard time not giggling. Not that no one ever got pissed in Carmia, but that tirade seemed so New York to her.
“You’re Chris’s sister.” Natalie looked Eva over curiously, taking in the turquoise ballet flats and tiered floral skirt, up to her colorful layers of loose-fitting tops, multiple ear piercings and assortment of butterfly clips in her hair. “She wasn’t kidding. You’re her total opposite.”
“Close to it.” Eva sat as tall as possible, looking Natalie over right back, from her black ankle boots over crimson leggings and black microskirt under a stylish wrapped coat with big leather fastenings, then to top it off, a wide-brimmed black hat. The epitome of fashion chic. She and Chris must turn every head in New York when they went out together.