Whoo-hooo, I think, swaying through the first-class cabin on the train headed back to the city. The seats are enormous and covered in red velvet and there’s a paper napkin on each headrest. There’s even a special compartment where you can stash your suitcase. It’s a heck of a lot nicer than coach.
“Always go first-class.” I hear Samantha’s voice in my head.
“But only if you can pay for it yourself,” Miranda counters.
Well, I am paying for it myself. Via Bernard and his lovely gift. But what the hell? I deserve it.
Maybe I’m not a failure after all.
I don’t know how long I’ll stay in New York, or what my father will do when I tell him. But I’ll worry about that later. For the moment, all I care about is one simple fact: I’m going back.
I teeter up the aisle, looking for a place to sit and someone decent to sit next to. I pass a balding man, and a lady who’s knitting. Then I spot a pretty girl with a luxurious mane of hair, flipping through a copy of
“Oh hi!” she says eagerly, moving her bag. I smile. She’s just as sweet as I thought she’d be, given that gorgeous hair.
“I’m so glad to get you as a seatmate,” she whispers intimately, looking around. “The last time I took the train to New York, this creepy guy sat right next to me. He actually tried to put his hand on my leg. Can you believe it? I had to move my seat three times.”
“That’s terrible,” I say.
“I know.” She nods, wide-eyed.
I smile. “Getting married?” I ask, indicating her magazine.
She blushes. “Not exactly. I mean, not yet. But I hope to be engaged in a couple of years. My boyfriend works in New York. On Wall Street.” She ducks her head prettily. “My name’s Charlotte, by the way.”
“Carrie,” I say, holding out my hand.
“What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”
I burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she says, confused. “They say Paris is romantic, but I think New York is romantic too. And the men-”
I laugh even harder.
“Well, really,” she says primly. “If you’re going to laugh the whole way to New York… I don’t see what’s so funny about going to New York to find love.”
I howl.
“Well?” she demands.
I wipe away my tears. I sit back and cross my arms. “Do you really want to know about love in New York?”
“Yes, I do.” Her tone is curious and a little bit cautious.
The train toots its horn as I lean forward in my seat.
“Sweetie,” I say, with a smile. “Have I got a story for
About the Author
CANDACE BUSHNELL is the critically acclaimed and bestselling author of THE CARRIE DIARIES, SEX AND THE CITY, LIPSTICK JUNGLE, ONE FIFTH AVENUE, 4 BLONDES, and TRADING UP, which have sold millions of copies. SEX AND THE CITY was the basis for the HBO hit show and films of the same name. LIPSTICK JUNGLE became a popular television series on NBC. Candace lives in New York City.
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