Read Online Sooner or Later by Elizabeth Adler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Adler
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a man.
“You showed him the door pretty firmly. Did I miss something? Or was someone asking you out on a date?”
Ellie nodded. “He was.”
“And?” Maya held up a protesting hand; she already knew the answer. “No, don’t tell me. You said you were too busy. For God’s sakes, woman, you can’t go on like this. Celibacy is okay, if that’s what you choose, but at least share a few hours’ conversation with the guy. There’s real life out there, Ellie. I mean, there’s got to be something besides this.” She swept her arms wide, knocking over a bottle of wine. “Now look at what I’ve done. It’s all your fault!”
Ellie grinned. She knew Maya’s explosive temperament, she’d lived with it long enough. “I simply told him I was too busy right now,” she said, calmly picking up the bottle and getting a cloth to mop up the wine.“And if you paid a little more attention to the customers, instead of eavesdropping on my conversations, you’d notice that table three is waiting for menus.”
Maya glared at her, then flounced off in a huff. “The lamb couscous is off tonight,” she announced icily, venting her ire on the customers as she handed out menus. The three men at the table stared at her, astonished, and she grinned shamefacedly. “But Chef Chan’s peppered ahi is divine,” she added sweetly. “I recommend it
personally.”
She only wished she could have recommended a guy for Ellie, and a night out instead of the everlasting work.
12
M AYA M ORRIS HAD BEEN E LLIE ’ S BEST FRIEND SINCE COLLEGE . She had arrived in Phoenix from the East Coast, a Manhattan Jewish girl through and through—blond, beautiful, know-it-all, and with a fast mouth. And Ellie had arrived from the West Coast, all tumbling red hair and long legs, perfect manners, clumsy, bighearted, and with a wild look of newfound freedom in her wonderful eyes that spelled trouble, even to a connoisseur of “trouble” like Maya. It was as though they recognized each other, instantly. They were soulmates, two of a kind.
In a couple of weeks, they’d found themselves an apartment off campus and began to do what Maya called “throwing parties” and what Ellie called “giving little soirées.” Which in plain terms meant everybody brought a bottle and those who were musicians played guitars and anything else they happened to bring with them, as well as blasting rock on the hi-fi and dancing up a storm. After a month, the landlord threw them out.
Undaunted, they found another place, a house this time where the noise would be less noticeable, and any-howthe neighbors were fellow students. Then Ellie, high on freedom, went out and traded in her Pathfinder for a Harley. Metallic-scarlet, flashy with polished chrome, and hot.
Maya was rocking slowly back and forth on the old floral swing set on the front porch, when Ellie roared up on it.
“How about this?” Ellie yelled over the space-shuttle roar. “Great, huh?”
Maya stopped her rocking. She had a splitting headache from the tequila last night and was not at her best. But, ever fashionable, she tuned right in. “We’ll need proper outfits.”
“Right.”
It was terrific, the way they knew each other’s mind. If one did something, the other picked right up on it, no questions asked. Maya climbed on the back and they shot off, downtown to the bike shop. An hour later, they emerged, sleek as panthers in tight black leather pants, fringed jackets, boots, gauntlets and sinister black and silver helmets.
“Perfect” was Maya’s comment.
And that’s how they became known as the “Arizona State Hogettes,” famous for their speed, their soirées, their sartorial splendor and general outrageousness.
All in all, they behaved like kids who’d never been away from home before, wild with freedom and completely irresponsible. Because they were bright, they got away with a minimum of classes, until the boom came down and the Dean threatened expulsion, and
“You showed him the door pretty firmly. Did I miss something? Or was someone asking you out on a date?”
Ellie nodded. “He was.”
“And?” Maya held up a protesting hand; she already knew the answer. “No, don’t tell me. You said you were too busy. For God’s sakes, woman, you can’t go on like this. Celibacy is okay, if that’s what you choose, but at least share a few hours’ conversation with the guy. There’s real life out there, Ellie. I mean, there’s got to be something besides this.” She swept her arms wide, knocking over a bottle of wine. “Now look at what I’ve done. It’s all your fault!”
Ellie grinned. She knew Maya’s explosive temperament, she’d lived with it long enough. “I simply told him I was too busy right now,” she said, calmly picking up the bottle and getting a cloth to mop up the wine.“And if you paid a little more attention to the customers, instead of eavesdropping on my conversations, you’d notice that table three is waiting for menus.”
Maya glared at her, then flounced off in a huff. “The lamb couscous is off tonight,” she announced icily, venting her ire on the customers as she handed out menus. The three men at the table stared at her, astonished, and she grinned shamefacedly. “But Chef Chan’s peppered ahi is divine,” she added sweetly. “I recommend it
personally.”
She only wished she could have recommended a guy for Ellie, and a night out instead of the everlasting work.
12
M AYA M ORRIS HAD BEEN E LLIE ’ S BEST FRIEND SINCE COLLEGE . She had arrived in Phoenix from the East Coast, a Manhattan Jewish girl through and through—blond, beautiful, know-it-all, and with a fast mouth. And Ellie had arrived from the West Coast, all tumbling red hair and long legs, perfect manners, clumsy, bighearted, and with a wild look of newfound freedom in her wonderful eyes that spelled trouble, even to a connoisseur of “trouble” like Maya. It was as though they recognized each other, instantly. They were soulmates, two of a kind.
In a couple of weeks, they’d found themselves an apartment off campus and began to do what Maya called “throwing parties” and what Ellie called “giving little soirées.” Which in plain terms meant everybody brought a bottle and those who were musicians played guitars and anything else they happened to bring with them, as well as blasting rock on the hi-fi and dancing up a storm. After a month, the landlord threw them out.
Undaunted, they found another place, a house this time where the noise would be less noticeable, and any-howthe neighbors were fellow students. Then Ellie, high on freedom, went out and traded in her Pathfinder for a Harley. Metallic-scarlet, flashy with polished chrome, and hot.
Maya was rocking slowly back and forth on the old floral swing set on the front porch, when Ellie roared up on it.
“How about this?” Ellie yelled over the space-shuttle roar. “Great, huh?”
Maya stopped her rocking. She had a splitting headache from the tequila last night and was not at her best. But, ever fashionable, she tuned right in. “We’ll need proper outfits.”
“Right.”
It was terrific, the way they knew each other’s mind. If one did something, the other picked right up on it, no questions asked. Maya climbed on the back and they shot off, downtown to the bike shop. An hour later, they emerged, sleek as panthers in tight black leather pants, fringed jackets, boots, gauntlets and sinister black and silver helmets.
“Perfect” was Maya’s comment.
And that’s how they became known as the “Arizona State Hogettes,” famous for their speed, their soirées, their sartorial splendor and general outrageousness.
All in all, they behaved like kids who’d never been away from home before, wild with freedom and completely irresponsible. Because they were bright, they got away with a minimum of classes, until the boom came down and the Dean threatened expulsion, and
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