City Secrets (6 page)

I stared at her for another second before picking up a chip and focusing on the previews. Heather had
something
planned for this week. And knowing her, it was going to be good.

An hour and a half later the credits rolled, and Heather turned off the TV. We'd laughed through most of the movie and had eaten our way through the entire tray of food. My eyes had started to close during the final few minutes of the movie and I was surprised how tired I was this early—it was just after ten.

Heather yawned and stretched her arms. “I'm going to bed. And you should too. Be ready for breakfast by eight and we'll be out of here by nine.”

“Out to where?” I asked.

Heather got up off the couch, shaking her head. “You'd think you'd have learned by now.” She started toward the door, turning back to grin at me. “'Night, Silver.”

I sat there staring after her. I couldn't even imagine what she had planned for tomorrow, but I wasn't going to be yawning my way through it.

I got up, walked to the guest room, and gathered my
toothbrush and face wash. In the bathroom I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I stared into my reflection, trying to breathe and not worry about whatever Heather had planned for tomorrow. When I climbed into bed, my nerves melted slowly into excitement. After all, this
was
New York City.

 6 

I ROLLED OVER IN BED AS SUNLIGHT FILTERED through the venetian blinds. Wait.
Venetian blinds?
I blinked and sat up in bed, looking around at the room.

Ohhh.
For a second I'd forgotten where I was.

I leaned back against the down pillow and took a breath. I was at Heather's. I hadn't slept over at many people's houses before and it felt strange to wake up in an unfamiliar place.

I rolled over, staring at the clock. Seven fifteen. Heather had said breakfast was at eight and I
so
didn't want to be late. I went through my suitcase, unsure what to choose since Heather hadn't exactly been clear about what we were doing today.

I finally settled on dark-wash skinny jeans, a clover
green shirt, and platform sandals. I carried my clothes to the bathroom and emerged twenty minutes later, washed, dressed, and ready for breakfast.

I walked down the hallway and, smiling, sidestepped a maid I hadn't seen yesterday. Just how much help
did
the Foxes have?

“Good, you're actually up,” Heather said, following me down the hall. She was dressed in black skinny jeans, sandals, and a red shirt. “I thought I'd have to send Helen in to drag you out of bed.”

I rolled my eyes. “How long have
you
been up, then? I'm just running into you in the hallway.”

Heather glared at me. “Whatever. Let's eat and go already.”

I followed Heather to a small, sunny room at the back of the penthouse. It was a cute breakfast area with a round table that sat four people. Two placemats were laid out on the table with bowls and silverware. There was a giant bowl of cut-up mixed fruit in the center of the table.

“Told you it'd be the only meal we'd have with them,” Heather said. Her tone was light, but I could tell it bothered her. She acted as if she didn't care that her parents were involved in her life only when it came to being
Homecoming Princess or a champion rider. But she
did
care and it did affect her.

Helen walked into the room and smiled at us. “What can I get you girls for breakfast?” she asked.

“A Belgian waffle, please,” Heather said.

Helen nodded. “And, Sasha?” she asked. “I can make any type of waffle or pancake that you'd like. I can also make eggs or whatever else you normally eat for breakfast.”

“Blueberry pancakes would be great,” I said. “Thank you.”

Heather reached the spoon into the fruit bowl and scooped cantaloupe, grapes, pineapple, banana, and strawberries, among other fruits, and passed me the spoon. I filled my bowl with the fresh fruit and speared a piece of mango. Yum.

“So are you going to tell me what store we're going to, or are you going to blindfold me till we get there?” I asked.

Heather ate two bites of fruit before looking at me. “A store that will fix
that
.”

“What?”

“That.” Heather waved her hand at me.

I shook my head. “I have
no
idea what you're talking about.”

“Your outfit, Silver.”

“What's wrong with this?” I looked down at myself. “I definitely want to go shopping and get some things for school, but there's nothing wrong with my wardrobe.”

“Sasha, I've already explained this. Those clothes are acceptable for school, but you're in NYC. With
me
.” Heather shuddered as if she felt a chill.

I sighed. “Whatever. At least my parents gave me shopping money for the trip, so I'll be able to get a ton of stuff.”

“How much?” Heather asked. She scooped up the last bit of honeydew melon from her bowl.

“A hundred dollars,” I said proudly. “They
never
give me that much. I'll probably, like, go crazy.”

Heather folded her arms across her chest, an amused smile on her face.

“Oh, Sasha Silver from Union,” she said. “A hundred won't even buy a heel where we're going.”

I blinked. “But—I—”

“Here you go, girls!” Helen said, walking into the room with our breakfast. She set down a plate of three steaming blueberry pancakes and put tiny containers of butter and syrup between Heather and me. She also served Heather her waffle.

“Thank you,” Heather and I said. Heather reached for the butter, and I couldn't stop staring at her.

“Wait, wait,” I said. “That conversation soo wasn't over. I have
one hundred dollars
”—I said those three words slowly—“to spend. That's it. I mean, we couldn't rack up a bill like that at Express or H & M that easily.”

Heather almost dropped her fork. She covered her eyes with her hands, breathed for a few seconds, then shook her head at me.

“It's actually kind of cute that you think we'd go to Express or H & M,” she said.

“Forever 21?” I asked.

Heather stabbed a bite of her waffle. “Stop talking and eat so we can go.”

I shrugged and finished my beyond-amazing pancakes.

“Let's grab our purses and get out of here,” Heather said.

We went to our rooms, got our purses, and headed for the front door.

“Heather?”

I jumped and we both turned to see Mrs. Fox staring at us. She had a leather day planner in one hand and a fountain pen in the other.

“Where are you going?” Mrs. Fox continued.

Heather flashed a smile. “We're going shopping. I thought I needed some new clothes when I go back to school, since I'm Homecoming Princess now.”

Her reason for shopping was a total lie. I watched Mrs. Fox's face to see if she'd buy it.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Mrs. Fox said. “Make sure you don't get anything in yellow. You know how that looks with your skin tone.”

“I know, Mom. I won't,” Heather said, still maintaining the fake cheeriness. “See you later.”

Mrs. Fox just nodded and disappeared before we'd even put on our shoes. Mom and Dad would have wanted to know everywhere I was going—they'd
never
let me leave like that in Union, let alone New York City. But I didn't say that to Heather.

We walked out the door and I felt like I could breathe better when we got out of the penthouse. The hallway was quiet and the building's lobby had a few people entering and exiting. The doorman pulled open the door for Heather and me, and we stepped through, smiling our thanks.

At just after nine, the city air was chilly, and sunlight found its way around the tall buildings and filtered down to us.

“Which way's the subway?” I asked, looking in both directions. I'd ridden the subway once with Paige over the summer. We'd told her parents we were using a car service, but I'd begged Paige to take me on the subway and she'd agreed. It had been so much fun. I stood still—frozen in the memory. We'd bought single-ride MetroCards and had ridden the F train to a stop close to Paige's before using a car service.

I jolted out of my thoughts when I realized Heather was standing in front of me, staring at me.

“The
subway
?” she asked.

“Ooh,” I teased. “Sorry. Is the subway not a Park Ave thing to do?”

Heather glared, but I saw a hint of a smile. “The subway is
never
the thing to do,” she said. “You're so lucky I'm actually willing to teach you about how to really live in NYC. Otherwise . . .” She just shook her head.

“So we hail a taxi?” I said it with a straight face, knowing she'd use a car service.

Heather groaned and spun away from me. She punched numbers on her phone, and then slid it shut.

“We're using the family's car,” Heather said. “We will
not
be”—Heather took a breath—“riding the subway or sitting in the back of some disgusting taxi.
I can't believe you'd ever even think I'd do those things.”

I laughed to myself and pretend bowed to her. “I apologize, Miss Fox, for expecting you to do something, oh, I don't know, normal.”

Heather started to say something back, but as she opened her mouth, the sleek car we'd ridden in yesterday appeared. The same driver got out and hurried to open the door to the backseat.

Heather got in first and I started to climb in after her, expecting her to move over.

“I. Do. Not. Slide,” Heather said. “Walk around.”

“Oookkaaay.” I held up my hands and walked to the car's other back door. The driver was already waiting with the door open. “I'm Sasha,” I said. I figured I'd be seeing a lot of him this week, so he should at least know my name.

“And I'm Paul,” he said, tipping his hat to me.

I smiled and climbed into the car. Paul got into the driver's seat and looked back to Heather.

“Where can I take you?” he asked.

“Let's start with Barneys,” Heather said.

“To Madison Avenue it is,” Paul said. He turned back around and the car rolled forward smoothly.

Barneys. Wow.
I didn't want to say that out loud and
look like a total loser to Heather. But
wow
! I'd never been to Barneys. That was a store that required serious glossing before entering.

I reached into my purse and dug around for a lip gloss. I put back two before finding the one I wanted—Kiss This Gloss in Smooch. It was shimmery with a tint of rosy pink. I applied the gloss—making sure it wasn't smeary—and had just snapped my compact shut when Paul pulled the car to the curb.

“I'll text you when we're done,” Heather said, leaning forward. “Thanks, Paul.”

Paul nodded. “Have fun, ladies.”

Heather turned to me. “I'm going to open my door since it's away from the street, and this time, you
can
get out after me.”

She got out of the car and I followed her, closing the door behind me. Paul pulled back into traffic, and Heather and I were alone on Madison Avenue. I glanced up at the green street sign, and the words “Madison Avenue” stared back at me. It made me smile—I loved New York.

“Silver!” Heather said. She grabbed my elbow and pulled me forward. “People are going to think you're weird if you just stand there staring at a
street sign
.”

“Sorry,” I said. “But you're used to this. I'm not. It's still a big deal.”

The look on Heather's lightly tanned face softened. “Yeah, fine. Okay. But it's way better inside, so let's go.”

“Okay.”

We walked down the sidewalk, weaving around people, and walked toward a red awning that said barneys new york. Under the awning, a giant window display showed three mannequins dressed like models from a Paris runway. I almost stopped walking, but there were so many people on the street, I didn't want to get run over. We walked under a second awning, and the beyond-brilliant shade of red didn't impress me any less the second time I saw it. This window display showed off crisp men's suits that looked like clothes you'd see at the Oscars.