Read Online Winter Jacket: Finding Home by Eliza Lentzski - Free Book Online Page B

stopped in front of the elevators and Troian pressed the up button. “So this funny metal box is called an elevator.” She spoke slowly as though to a child. “It transports you from one floor to another.”
    I cocked an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head?”
    “Based on that crack house you call an apartment, I assumed you’d forgotten about modern conveniences.”
    “It’s not that bad,” I continued to defend even though I had no reason to. I hadn’t even been the one who’d picked out the apartment. I wondered whom I had to blame for that. “And it’s only three floors,” I added. “An elevator would be overkill.”
    “Just say the word and I’ll get you out of there.”
    “I don’t suppose you and Nik are in the market for a roommate?” I said, not really meaning it. Co-habitation would be the fastest way to ruin our friendship.
    “You wish,” she snorted.
    Troian’s apartment was on the ninth floor of the twenty-story complex. It was high enough to provide views of the valley and mountains, but low enough that rent wasn’t astronomical. Like the building itself, her apartment had a modern design covered in stainless steel, polished concrete countertops, and marble floors.
    “Hey, babe?” Troian called out as we stood in the foyer.  She waited a moment, but no response came. “She must be on the balcony,” she thought aloud.
    My nose was hit with the smoky sweet scent of grilled meat and barbeque sauce when Troian slid open a glass door in the kitchen that led out to a spacious balcony large enough for a patio table, four chairs, and a gas grill.
    I saw Nikole from the backside first. Barefoot and dressed in a tank top and cut-off shorts, she swayed to a silent beat, probably the one coming from the headphones attached to her ears.
    Her body jerked to attention and she tugged the earbuds out of her ears when I let loose a piercing wolf whistle.
    “Damn, girl, you’re looking good,” I approved.
    She turned on her heel and rewarded me with a mega-watt smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, Professor.”
    Her long arms wrapped around me, and we shared a tight embrace. I hadn’t seen her in months, but the familiarity of the hug was soothing to my soul.
    “You smell like meat and hard work,” I said. “I like it.”
    I heard Troian clear her throat after our hug lasted a moment too long. “Okay, you two,” she grunted. “Hands where I can see them.”
    I released Nikole from the hug and held up my hands, fingers wiggling. “Sorry, Boss. You know I have a hard time controlling myself around your lady.”
    “Boss?” Nicole echoed. “Oh, no. I’m putting an end to that right now.”
    “But I am her boss,” Troian said with a slight stomp of her foot. “And as my first official boss declaration, I’m making you come to a work party with me Saturday.”
    “I didn’t really pack anything appropriate for a Hollywood party.” My typical work uniform had consisted of blouses and pencil skirts, but I’d left most of those at home; they would be too formal for the t-shirt and jeans lifestyle of a television writer.
    “Did you bring a bathing suit?” she asked.
    “Yes?” I said with hesitation, not liking where this was headed.
    “Then you’re fine,” Troian assured me. “The party’s on a boat.”
    “A yacht,” Nikole corrected. “It’s excessive,” she said waving her grilling tools. “You’ll hate it.”
    “It belongs to the show’s creative consultant,” Troian added. “She’s loaded—or her husband’s family is, I think.”
    “Jane?” I recalled the name from earlier in the day.
    “Wow. You’re a quick study,” Troian remarked.
    “Or else Gloria’s really gossipy,” I countered. “Do I have to go?”
    “I wish you would; I have to make an appearance,” Troian sighed. “And I would rather not go alone.”
    “So take Nik with you,” I said. “Isn’t that what fiancées are for?”
    Nikole snorted and returned to the grill. I could hear the meat