Jill Knapp - We’ve Always Got New York

JILL KNAPP

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

HarperImpulse an imprint of

HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

77–85 Fulham Palace Road

Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014

Copyright © Jill Knapp 2014

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Jill Knapp asserts the moral right

to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International

and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

By payment of the required fees, you have been granted

the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access

and read the text of this e-book on screen.

No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,

downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or

stored in or introduced into any information storage and

retrieval system, in any form or by any means,

whether electronic or mechanical, now known or

hereinafter invented, without the express

written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © November 2014

ISBN: 9780007594689

Version 2014-10-22

Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

"Fall in love all over again. With men, Manhattan and yourself."

Shiri Appleby, actress, HBO's Girls

"A subtly addicting, fun, and fast-paced story about the realty of twenty-something dating in NYC."

Courtney Hamilton, author, Almost Royalty

"A fast-paced, roller-coaster ride through the giddy peaks and Death Valleys of dating in your twenties in the big city, looking for love, and finding yourself."

Phoebe Fox, author, The Break-Up Doctor

"For any woman who has ever chased love only to find themselves…this book is for you."

Mandy Hale, creator & author, The Single Woman

"…Knapp’s book combines love and life in a beautiful twist within the borders of one of the loudest, craziest cities in the world, New York City. But what's most interesting is how the characters find solace in the noise, find happiness in the chaos, and find love in the unique."

Kate Avino, The Huffington Post and CEO of Her Culture magazine

"What Happens To Men When They Move To Manhattan? is a fun and enjoyable read about a young woman in search of her happily ever after. Take it to the beach or snuggle up in bed and dig in.”

Emily Liebert, award-winning author, You Knew Me When and When We Fall

For my mom

“Yet high over the city our line of yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up and wondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.”

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise for Jill Knapp

Dedication

Chapter 1Amalia

Chapter 2Olivia

Chapter 3Amalia

Chapter 4Olivia

Chapter 5Amalia

Chapter 6Olivia

Chapter 7Amalia

Chapter 8Olivia

Chapter 9Amalia

Chapter 10Olivia

Chapter 11Amalia

Chapter 12Olivia

Chapter 13Amalia

Chapter 14Olivia

Chapter 15Amalia

Chapter 16Olivia

Chapter 17Amalia

Chapter 18Olivia

Chapter 19Amalia

Chapter 20Olivia

Chapter 21Amalia

Chapter 22Olivia

Chapter 23Amalia

Chapter 24Olivia

Chapter 25Amalia

Chapter 26Olivia

Chapter 28Amalia

Chapter 30Olivia

Chapter 31Amalia

Chapter 32Olivia

Chapter 33Amalia

Also by Jill Knapp…

Jill Knapp

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

I could tell by the look on her face that she was expecting something from me. She was expecting something to be different. For me to be, in some way, changed.

I’m Amalia Hastings, and on August 20 that 9:17 pm, I was home.

Home. The word seemed funny to me because I didn’t have a home to go back to. I moved out of my apartment right before leaving for Brazil and after my friend-with-benefits, Michael, showed up at my apartment, asking me to stay. I hadn’t thought it through properly; I just knew I didn’t want to live in that apartment anymore. Before my trip to Brazil I packed up what little stuff I owned and put it in storage for when I returned, assuming I would deal with it then. Well, “then” has become “now”. So for tonight I was staying with my best friend Cassandra. Who was currently waving at me.

I knew what she wanted. She wanted stories. Juicy ones that involved hot hookups on the sand. She wanted to see pictures. Pictures of the places I went, the food I ate, and the hot guys I met. She wanted me to run up to her in a sun dress, hair braided and skin tanned, and explain, no, to pontificate, to her how life-changing my trip was. She wanted me to playfully link her arm around mine and gush about how amazing it all was. How I was changed forever. That I had a new appreciation for life, food, and music. She wanted me to tell her that I would never be the same.

But this isn’t the movies and I’m not Julia Roberts.

The florescent lights above me flickered, making the airport look dark and ominous. I looked down at my hand as I pulled my rolling suitcase across the sticky, tiled floor. Not even my hand had acquired a tan. Three months in the Brazilian sun and my skin remained as pale as ever.

Cassandra was looking right at me with wide, unblinking eyes. I walked a little slower.

For some reason I couldn’t pinpoint, coming off the plane felt like a surreal experience to me. Although I was relieved to have landed, and I wouldn’t have wanted to stay in Brazil any longer, I still wasn’t utterly happy with being back. I wondered if it merely had to do with the fact that I had no apartment to go back to and was feeling pretty untethered from not having a proper home.

There’s an old saying. I’m not really sure where it’s from or who said it first. Kind of the proverb equivalent of The House of the Rising Sun . It proffers, “Wherever you go, there you are”, and up until about one month ago I had no idea what it meant. But now it means everything. It rings in my ears like a scolding mother, repeating itself over and over again until I submit.

I finally stood face to face with Cassandra, who was grinning like a fool at this point. She was dressed down for the night, wearing a purple racer-back tank top that showed off her summer glow, jeans, and gold flip-flops. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose, messy bun and her make-up was minimal, apart from the extra-shiny, coral lip-gloss she was wearing. She reeked of summer.

“Hey,” I offered, looking down at my sneakers. I wished I had more energy for her, but after ten hours on a plane it was all I could muster up.

Cassandra cocked her head to the side and smiled. Her hair swung back and forth and she popped her hip out like a model in training. She looked as fierce as ever, even dressed-down in comfortable summer clothes.

“That’s all I get? Get over here!” she said, pulling me in for a hug.