The New York Project

7. Acquaintances

"No, it's not. Louisa May Alcott is way more relevant than Jane Austen or the Brontës nowadays," declared Robbie with incredulity in his voice.

Cecilia shook her head and the chopsticks in her hand, then moved forward on her seat to retort.

"Oh come on, kiddo... Out of four sisters, one is dead and the three others are married – one of them to a very wealthy guy. Another one inherits a huge house and is hence able to provide for her family and the one of the eldest sister. Some example for today's little women."

Victoria, in awe, was looking at the two of them jesting at each other over some classic pieces of literature. How they were getting along, mere minutes after they met, was beyond anything she had hoped for.

Since they came back from Montauk one week ago, the journalist had been begging her to meet her new lover. They thus had joined her for dinner in one of her usual haunts in Chinatown – a traditional, and surprisingly low-key, restaurant.

Victoria, of course, was a bit anxious to show Robbie around. Nonetheless, she knew she owed it to her best friend – or had her to blame for, since they probably wouldn't have hooked up if it hadn't been for her.

It was this very same reason that led the newly acquainted to have a debate on Jane Austen: Cecilia, after flirting with the pretty waitress, joked about how she embodied their Emma.

The young man then struggled to obtain classified information on Victoria, and failed with grace, because of the obvious solidarity in all sisterhoods. He moved on attempting to learn as much as possible on their little matchmaker, who told him everything about growing up as a black girl in Georgia, and about her not-so-shallow work or her last girlfriend who left her heartbroken for nearly a whole week.

Between the chow mein and the fortune cookies, as Robbie had to go to the men's room, Victoria squared her shoulders and tried to put a defiant look in her eyes, waiting for her friend's sly comments.

"Boy oh boy, isn't he great and aren't you in trouble."

Defiance became interrogation.

"Vee, for an editor and wannabe writer, you excel at blurring the lines. On the phone, you talked about meaningless sex and how it was just a way to upgrade your summer break, but this isn't it. At all."

"How do you mean?"

Without knowing why, something tightened in the young woman's guts. She anxiously waited for her friend's answer, one hand in her loose hair, which appeared almost garnet under the red paper lanterns of the ceiling.

"Well, you two are getting along real fine," Cecilia retorted in a cautious tone.

"We are, C., I told you: the sex is phenomenal."

"This isn't sex, this is..."

She stopped abruptly: Robbie was coming back.

"Oh, don't you mind me, I'm jealous is all."

Victoria wanted to insist; her lover's voice deterred her.

"Were you talking about me?"

"Of course we were," she answered right away.

They laughed and he placed a peck on her forehead.

She didn't know how she remained so composed and managed, after the exchange with Cecilia, to give this casual answer – not a lie, yet not the whole truth. Her friend smiled distractedly, put some of her short hair back behind her ear, and kept on looking at the beautiful couple, a touch of worry in her brown eyes.