Arm Candy Read Online Free PDF Page B

hurt. But when ConEd switched off that current, she couldn’t help but be reminded of her life in Shickshinny, and her early days in New York in that overcrowded apartment. Her fears of being destitute started to kick in, and the girl who never cried got a lump in her throat. So she locked down, like when Batman whispers “shields” and a thick armored coating suddenly clamps down on the Batmobile. She had to secure herself, reinforce the casing she had her whole life and suit up, protecting the inner strength that got her on that bus out of Shickshinny in the first place. After all, it was all she had.

6
    It takes a long time to grow young.
    —Pablo Picasso
     
     
     
    “H appy anniversary,” Wes said, smiling as he came in from the cold and sat across from Eden at a quirky new candlelit café near their apartment, an early harbinger of hipification to come. Wes hadn’t even realized it was the hot new joint when he had made the reservation. But its trend factor was not lost on his girlfriend, who loved the people-watching. Eden scanned the industrial-chic high-ceiled space, with rows of hanging cords, each with a vintage lightbulb with clear glass through which you could see the firefly filaments within. Friends air-kissed each other, attractive waiters brought fancy cocktails, and Eden drank it all in.
    Wes leaned over the table and kissed her cheek. “Can you believe it’s been a year?”
    “I know, it’s crazy! Wes, I love this place, great choice, it’s so cool in here, I’m obsessed,” she observed, reaching for the menu. “Yum, this looks so good, I’m starving!” Eden’s eyes widened as she beheld the prices on the right of the parchment paper, which was presented on rustic vintage clipboards. Shit, it was pricey. She looked at Wes, who was also noticing.
    “This place is kind of expensive,” Eden said.
    “Hey, it’s a special occasion, Maple, it’s worth the splurge.” Wes smiled warmly. Eden reached for his hand and held it.
    “Jesus, your hands are freezing, let me warm them up.” Wes took each of her pink hands and rubbed them quickly with his.
    “Thanks,” Eden said, feeling his warm hands comfort hers.
    “So how was your day?” Wes asked.
    “It was fine, Wes, but we really have to deal with the roach problem in the apartment.”
    “Oh no. You saw another one?”
    “It was literally bigger than a taxi.”
    “I’ll have Max send the exterminator again,” he promised, shaking his head. “Did you kill it?”
    “Hell, no! I sprinted out of there!”
    “I’ll get him when we get home, don’t worry,” he said, kissing her now-warmed hand. “I have so much work tonight anyway on my term project that I’ll be awake to defend you from crazy vehicle-sized insects.”
    “Thanks, Lancelot.” Eden smiled and sipped her water from a taupe-hued glass goblet. “Gosh, can you believe this place? Everyone is so . . . beautiful.”
    “That’s why they call them the Beautiful People.” Wes shrugged. He honestly hadn’t really noticed. But Eden spied the scene—the edgy and chic fashionistas, the cool young musicians carrying guitars, the offbeat vibe. It was everything she’d fantasized about New York all in one room. Of course she’d seen people like this all the time in the record store, just not all at once, with this lighting, at night, dressed up, being fabulous. Frequenting their hives was hardly within her financial reach.
    “I’m going to just run to the bathroom, quickly,” said Wes, popping up. Before he walked away he kissed her cheek once more.
    After a moment, the door of the restaurant burst open and in walked a noisy, colorful crew. A girl with spiky purple hair and a ton of piercings, two gorgeous male model types, a tall black woman with cheekbones in drastic angles that rivaled Mount Everest, and behind them all, Mr. Otto Clyde: the most famous living artist in New York, perhaps the world.
    Eden sat up straight, instantly noticing the famed artist who