Totally worth it, p.1

Totally Worth It, page 1

 

Totally Worth It
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Totally Worth It


  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  Welcome to the world of Bay West Social.

  Twenty-something Meg McTiernan is all about her career when her house hunt unexpectedly lands her at Bay West—a lesbian mecca tucked away in the suburbs of NYC—and her social life is given a turbo boost. There’s a pool, a softball league, even a nightclub practically in her backyard. In this loaded environment, finding the right girl just got a lot more interesting.

  Case in point: law student Lexi Russo grew up at Bay West and is about to start an internship at the law firm of another local, self-assured, sexy Jesse Ducane. Lexi’s had a crush on Jesse forever, but Jesse’s the one Bay West woman she can’t possibly have. And not just because she’s her boss.

  Together, new friends Meg and Lexi navigate romances, fun flirtations, juicy gossip, tons of drama, and maybe just the right amount of true love.

  Totally Worth It

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Totally Worth It

  © 2015 By Maggie Cummings. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-513-8

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: December 2015

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Ruth Sternglantz

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Jeanine Henning

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank Ruth Sternglantz and the entire team at Bold Strokes Books for all the work that went into making this book possible.

  I also want to thank my amazing support group led by my sister, Sheila, for her proofreading skills and her enthusiasm, which seemed never ending. Thanks also to my awesome friends and first readers, Kerry Symon, Melissa Begley, Alyse Pecoraro, and Judy Ekberg, whose encouragement and motivation helped me overcome my ever-present fear of failure. Last, and most important, thanks to my wife, Kat, who endured countless hours of conversation about fake people, was consistently expected to be a human thesaurus, and who, above all, believed in me from the very start.

  For Kat

  Chapter One

  It’s amazing how three little words can change your entire life.

  That’s what Meg was thinking as she stood in front of the doorway of her new house.

  She had never owned anything before—she had always rented. It all seemed so…adult. Everything was happening so quickly that she hoped she had made the right decision. She vaguely remembered hearing somewhere that you were supposed to look at at least eight places before buying a house. This was only the second place she’d been to; maybe it was the wrong move. But every bone in her body was telling her it was right.

  “Are you okay?” The voice came from the walkway of the house attached to hers on the right.

  Meg took a deep breath before answering. Lost in thought, she hadn’t realized she was still just standing two feet in front of the doorway, keys in her hand. She turned to see a girl about her age, with long curly hair pulled into a ponytail and curves that were visible beneath running shorts and a long-sleeve shirt. “Yeah. Whew.” She breathed out audibly. “Just a little overwhelmed, I guess. I just bought this place. And I don’t know, I’m kind of freaking out a little.”

  “Well, welcome. I’m Lexi. I live here,” the girl said, nodding to the door she had been about to walk through.

  “Hi, I’m Meg.” She waved.

  “Do you need help with something?” the new neighbor offered, rather sincerely, Meg thought.

  She blew out another breath before answering. “No, I’m okay. I really just brought a few things over. I’m moving my stuff in this weekend, but I wanted to come by and make sure the keys worked and everything.” She jingled the key ring.

  “Well, you should probably check, then.” Lexi smiled as she crossed the small lawn between the two houses. “Usually it’s a big square key for the top lock.” She took the keys from Meg. “This one, here.”

  Meg inserted the square key into the top hole and felt the lock slide smoothly to the left. She pushed open the door and instantly knew that her first instinct had been correct. Although she couldn’t quite explain why, this was the right place for her. She contained her goofy grin and turned around to say thanks, but Lexi was already gone.

  Shoving her keys in her pocket, she stepped across the threshold into her new home. She moved through the house precisely, remembering each detail as she had seen it the first time—the only time, actually—prior to plunking down her life’s savings on it. As she passed through each room, she felt a calm coming over her body. She completely surveyed the first floor before climbing the stairs to the bedrooms. At the back of the house, she looked out the window at her tiny decked yard and couldn’t help but remember the view from the first apartment she’d considered and the events of the clear June morning that had led her here.

  Three months ago, Meg had paced the hardwood floors of a different apartment, giddy with nervous anticipation at the sheer possibility that she might be standing in her new home. From the window of the apartment on the twelfth floor, she stared at the lush treetops outlining the edges of Prospect Park while the Realtor and her sort-of girlfriend Becca murmured their approval from behind her. The view was unbelievable. It struck Meg that it was exactly like something you’d find on a postcard in one of those New York City souvenir shops.

  The new construction high-rise was located in the heart of Brooklyn’s Park Slope—prime real estate—a few short blocks from the park, mere steps from the bars and restaurants that she and her friends were constantly in and out of. Meg knew in an instant that if she bought the apartment, she would certainly have a lock on all the pre- and post-parties and, of course, Becca would love it. But the apartment only had one bedroom and she could barely afford it at that.

  She might have actually taken the plunge if Becca hadn’t been so goddamn adamant that it was worth the cost, none of which she would be contributing to, of course. Meg had brought Becca with her to see the apartment, figuring that’s what you did with the girl you were dating. Plus she knew that Becca would go crazy for it. And secretly she hoped it might help push their relationship to the next level. It was a bad plan, and deep down she knew it. As it happened, Becca’s remarks during the walk-through sealed the deal anyway.

  “It’s worth it. It’s totally worth it. I mean whatever you’re paying for it—it’s worth it.” She must have said it thirty times.

  Probably if Becca had said I love you, it might have actually been worth it to Meg. But she didn’t. Instead, she said It’s worth it over and over. And finally, it occurred to Meg that it wasn’t.

  Their relationship ended pretty much right after they left that apartment. It hadn’t even been that big an argument.

  “You’re not going to take it, are you?” Becca had more than asked, with a puss on her face.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “Look, it’s gorgeous. But it’s a ton of money and it’s actually not any bigger than the place I have now.”

  “But it’s worth it.” There it was again.

  Apparently even the Realtor knew it wasn’t going to work out for Meg and the apartment, or for Meg and Becca. Later that same night, she got a call from the woman, saying she knew of a listing she thought Meg would like. It was located in Staten Island. She made Meg promise to at least look at it before saying no.

  Now, leaning on the window ledge of her new master bedroom, Meg laughed to herself, snapping out of the memory. She looked up with a smile, realizing she could see the top of the Verrazano Bridge, stretching the span from Staten Island to Brooklyn. In all her years growing up here, she had never noticed how pretty it looked with the sun setting over the Narrows. She crossed over to the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto her balcony—her balcony!—and rested her body weight on the wrought-iron railing, indulging in the irony. Here i

n Staten Island, she had a hot neighbor, who looked to be about her age and seemed friendly too. She had her own house—okay, it was a town house, but it sported three bedrooms and her own backyard. Most importantly it was set in the middle of a frigging lesbian community that she never even knew existed.

  Meg’s problem had never been with Staten Island, per se. She had always kind of loved the idea of Staten Island. Located south of Manhattan and Brooklyn, Staten Island was the smallest of the five boroughs which made up New York City and it was the most suburban in feel. She had spent the first eighteen years of her life here, and her sister and brother-in-law had settled here permanently after they got married. Plus, New York City was a mere thirty minutes away. So, theoretically, she liked Staten Island. She just never really felt like she belonged here. Because for all its proximity to the Big Apple, Meg knew firsthand that Staten Island was really more small town than big city. And the problem with small towns is, when you’re a big gay, you stick out.

  It was why she swore to herself that once she got out, she would never move back.

  And yet, here she was.

  Meg walked into one of the spare bedrooms at the front of the house, still reeling from it all. She shook her head, totally flabbergasted that she was suddenly a resident of Bay West, a lesbian enclave comprising 400 town-house-style condominiums on thirty acres of land at the tip of the island, just under the bridge. She was still floored that a place like this existed at all, let alone in small-town, traditional Staten Island. She shook her head again. She might never understand how it came to be, or how she had missed it for so long. Right now, she was just happy to be part of it.

  Because as she looked out the window to the street down below, she spotted three women dressed in bikini tops and shorts, obviously heading toward the pool. As her gaze trailed their tanned legs, Meg was overcome with one single thought:

  Now, this place—this was going to be worth it.

  Chapter Two

  Meg looked around the room filled with cardboard boxes and wondered where exactly to start. She hated moving, every part of it. Sure there was the whole fresh-start element, but right now nothing about it felt fresh or new. That wouldn’t happen until rooms were painted and pictures hung. Unpacking boxes was just work. Perhaps her cynicism was the result of just having gone through this exact process a year ago, when she re-moved-in to her Brooklyn apartment after subletting it while she was away at grad school for a year. In that year, she had moved to Philadelphia, gotten her MBA, moved back to Brooklyn, started a new job as a management consultant—really a new job within her continued place of employment, but still—and it had involved a lot of packing and unpacking.

  Searching for a distraction, she glanced out the window and saw one of her neighbors, a woman named Jesse, working on her car in the driveway. She sighed to herself. It had started off so well when she had met Jesse two weeks earlier, on her move-in day.

  With all the relocating Meg had done in the last year, she fancied herself an expert. Rather than wasting her hard-earned cash on professional movers, she opted to do it herself. She guilted her brother-in-law Matt into service but had apparently underestimated the amount of brute force it took to lug all of your worldly possessions, including one pretty big couch, down five flights of stairs. By the time they got to Bay West, both she and Matt were beat. They might not have actually been able to finish if Jesse had not come to their aid.

  It happened as they were not-so-deftly maneuvering the couch from the U-Haul and fumbling toward the front door. A tallish brunette dressed in gym clothes ran over and put her hands under the base of the couch at the middle. She ushered them toward the house and grabbed the front door, holding it open.

  “Is it just the two of you?” the stranger asked, as the three of them manipulated the couch through the opening.

  “Yeah,” Meg managed to breathe out.

  “Hold on, let me just throw my stuff down and I’ll help you with the rest.”

  And with that, her neighbor had helped move all of Meg’s furniture, boxes, and the random junk one acquires over twenty-six years into the house.

  It wasn’t until her third trip from the moving truck that the stranger took a break to introduce herself. “I’m Jesse, by the way. I live at one-fifty-two across the street.” She pointed as she used a shirtsleeve to wipe the sweat from her temple.

  “Sorry. I’m Meg. Megan McTiernan.” She knew it sounded overly formal the second it came out of her mouth. She tried to breeze past it. “This is my brother-in-law, Matt.” Meg glared at her brother-in-law, who had barely contained his laughter. “Thank you so much for helping us.”

  “No problem, Megan McTiernan,” Jesse had said with a friendly wink. “Come on, let’s get those last few boxes.”

  Meg was pretty embarrassed, but not at all surprised. She could always count on herself to make a mess of a perfectly normal conversation with a pretty girl.

  After everything was unloaded, Jesse hovered outside for a few minutes, giving Meg a rundown of the community. Logistics, really. She told her about the softball field, the tennis court, the dog run. She said their block was the best location within the development because of its proximity to the pool and the Commons building. When she mentioned offhandedly that she had lived at Bay West for over ten years, Meg was completely thrown because up to that point she figured they were roughly the same age. Meg tried not to stare as she conducted a thorough once-over. Meg was five-six, and Jesse had her by at least three inches. Her short brown hair was wavy and wild but showed no grays peeking through anywhere. She had nice eyes, an unusual moss-green color, and olive skin with no hint of laugh lines. Doing some quick math, Meg estimated early thirties, at the most.

  Jesse seemed relaxed, straightforward, and in no rush to leave, but as they stood just outside the front door chatting easily, a car barreled to the curb aggressively, blocking the U-Haul in the driveway. The door opened and out sauntered Kameron Browne, president of the Bay West board. Meg remembered Kameron from her interview. She was big, brash, and bossy, not the kind of person easily forgotten.

  “Just figured I’d come by to officially welcome you to the community,” Kameron offered to Meg. She looked right past Jesse, barely acknowledging her presence as she greeted her coolly. “Jesse.”

  “Kam,” Jesse echoed back, just as icily, before turning back to Meg. “Well, I gotta run. See you around, Meg.” Before Meg could even respond, Jesse was halfway to her house.

  Kameron handed Meg a contact sheet with the names and email addresses of the board members listed on one side and a calendar of events at the development on the other. Meg had about a million questions but didn’t get a chance to ask even one. Kameron darted off to her car, speeding away from the curb just as obnoxiously as she had arrived, leaving Meg standing on the lawn by herself.

  Matt took the first opportunity he could to rip on her. “So, Megan McTiernan, is that how you greet all the ladies?”

  *

  Really what annoyed Meg when she remembered that day wasn’t that she’d acted like a dork when she introduced herself. She was used to that. Eating away at her was the feeling she had been given another opportunity to make a friend in the neighborhood but hadn’t closed the deal. So far she had been living at Bay West for two weeks and had exactly two social interactions with the locals—first with Lexi next door, and then with Jesse across the street—and both had ended too quickly to even form the foundation of a real friendship. And she could really use a gay friend. Since her breakup with Becca, she had lost her entire social circle as well as her girlfriend. Okay, they were all Becca’s friends first, and she never really expected to stay close with any of them, not really. But still she missed being included in whatever they were up to. This was part of the reason Bay West appealed to her. Certainly in a community of lesbians, she would be able to find a few friends. The fact that she might find a girlfriend in such a target-rich environment had crossed her mind too. Start small, she reminded herself.

 

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