A Collateral Attraction Read Online Free PDF

after the accident that killed our parents.
    She told me about the Brooklyn apartment she shared with two women who worked along with her in the Fashion District, and then another apartment, this time in Manhattan with a view of the Empire State Building from her doorstep. That apartment was tiny compared to Ethan’s penthouse, she said, though she didn’t mind it, for she was hardly home. Living in Manhattan, there was so much to do, so many places to go to, and so many people to meet that one never really needed to stay home.  But then if one had her boyfriend’s penthouse to stay in, why would she?
    I sit on the couch and empty the contents of her clutch on the counter. I pick up her passport and flip through it. The stamps that fill the pages tell me of the places she’s been since she met Ethan. The stamped dates begin four months earlier, some of them appearing on the same day, like they simply were island hopping. There’s London, Paris, Berlin, Madrid, Geneva, and more. I’d be lying if I tell myself I’m not jealous, for I am. I sigh and set the passport down, and pick up her iPhone.
    I rest my thumb on the button as I’ve watched her do many times to switch it on, but the screen wiggles, telling me to try again. After three tries, the phone reprimands me, telling me to try again in fifteen minutes.
    Setting it down, I pick up Blythe’s driver’s license and look at her picture. She’s smiling at the camera, her make-up perfect. She’d probably be horrified when she sees my driver’s license, the camera catching me in the middle of forming a smile, wearing no make-up except for lip gloss. I chuckle as I imagine her face, horrified at the thought of having to carry around my driver’s license in place of her own.
    As the memories of the day return to me — from my first meeting with Heath at the shop to the last one at the bar, then to the moment Jackson realized I wasn’t Blythe — my bewilderment turns to annoyance. How can Blythe do this to me? What emergency could make her simply disappear without leaving me a message, or an explanation? What is really going on?
    If she has to cut short our reunion, all she has to do is tell me, and I’ll be glad to be on the next flight back to Sacramento, with no hurt feelings at all. It’s not like I don’t want to be back in Nevada City anyway, even if it means I have to stand behind some counter selling souvenirs. New York is not the city for me, not even with a private limo to spare us the subway or a penthouse high above the city with a view to die for — not when my sister is not with me to enjoy it with.
    I pick up the penthouse phone and dial her phone number, and for the next few moments I listen as her iPhone vibrates and rings on the counter, a melodic ringtone that slices through the silence till my call goes to voicemail.
    Hi, it’s me, Blythe! Leave your message after the tone, or even better, just text me! Ciao!
    “Hey, it’s me, Billie,” I say as I stand in front of the glass window that separates me from the city below. “I’m back at the penthouse, no thanks to you, and of course you’re not here. I don’t know what’s going on, but I sure hope that you’re okay. I have no problems with you taking off like this, really, I don’t, but it would have been nice to get some kind of warning.  I don’t even know if Ethan is okay, or you for that matter.  So anyway, call me, text me, whatever — I don’t know — just call me. If I don’t hear from you by tomorrow, I’m going home, and then we can touch base from there, okay?”
    I hang up the phone and stare out the window for the next few minutes. I could have said so much more but I’m beginning to feel like an idiot.  Maybe there really was an emergency and just as Jackson said, I can take care of myself.  Still it’s no excuse for the way things have gone down, with me all alone in the penthouse while she’s out there somewhere, and I can only hope that she’s