New Amsterdam: Tess by Ashley Pullo Read Free Book Online Page A

she made him feel like the king of swagger – the Achilles heel to any geeky guy with low self-esteem. As a result, Seth left the store that day with an inflated ego, and a four-hundred dollar, vintage Schwinn bicycle with an insulated wicker basket.
    Arriving at The Hive, Seth props his bike against the window and attaches the U-lock to an exposed, unlabeled pipe. As he removes his earbuds and unlocks the front door, the confectionary smell and loud music coming from the small kitchen smack him in the face. It can only mean one thing.
    “Tess?” yells Seth.
    Seth stashes his things on the marble island and slowly pushes open the kitchen door. Standing in the doorway with a huge grin, Seth watches Thessaly stir a large copper pot to the thrashing electric riff of Heart .
    Using her wooden spoon as a lasso while rotating her hips, she delivers the chorus with sexy precision.
    Seth snickers as he approaches her from behind, strumming his awesome air-guitar high above his head. “Na-ah, ah-ah,” he hums.
    Startled, Thessaly screams and jumps. She spins around and whacks Seth with the spoon. “Seth!” she shouts over the music.
    Seth ignores the spoon and continues to whip his head up and down during the guitar solo. Dancing around him, Thessaly places her arm on his shoulder and the wooden spoon to her mouth. “This is not normal,” she screams through fits of laughter.
    When the song ends, Seth grabs Thessaly’s hand and thrusts it in the air. “Thank you, New York City!”
    Thessaly reaches for the remote to the Bose speaker and lowers the volume. “What are you doing here so early? Lover’s quarrel with Ben?” she teases.
    “Hardy, har har. I should ask you the same thing.” Seth peers into the copper pot bubbling with a liquid goo. “Blueberry jam?” he guesses.
    Rushed and hyper, Thessaly replies, “Correct. Sorta. It’s more of a compote to serve with honey cornbread. For tomorrow. That meeting with the wedding planner. Wanna taste?”
    “How much coffee have you had?” Seth glances around the tiny kitchen in search of evidence.
    “I only had a bottle of Mountain Dew and a Twix – Starbucks and the Beanery were closed.”
    “Holy shit, Tess. How long have you been here?”
    “I couldn’t sleep. Six, maybe five-thirty.” Thessaly lowers the heat under the stock pot and stirs. “Truth?” she whispers.
    “Always,” answers Seth.
    Exhaling as she turns toward her friend, Thessaly licks the spoon and then sets it on the counter. “I’m lonely, Seth.” She crosses her arms and raises her voice. “We live in a city with eight-million people but every night I go to sleep alone.”
    Lifting her chin with his hand, Seth smiles. “I’ll sleep with you.”
    Relaxing her arms, Thessaly leans toward Seth and laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    “How about we get some coffee and chat?”
    Thessaly nods and then spins around to face the stove. “My compote!” She slides on whimsical dragon oven mitts with a ric rac of tiny teeth, and then chucks the pot onto a cold burner. “That should do it,” she adds, giving the fruity stew another stir.
    Offering his arm, Seth leads them through the kitchen, remembering to grab his keys from the island on the way out the door. They lock up the store and then pause on the sidewalk to play rock, paper, scissors. It’s their entertaining way to decide on the insignificant things, like a coffee house – Thessaly prefers Fulton Beanery, but Seth tends to steer toward the cold brew at Starbucks.
    “Rock, paper, scissors, and shoot!” they chant.
    Thessaly’s paper covers Seth’s rock. “Yes!”
    “Then you’re buying,” whines Seth.
    The two friends stroll the long block to the Beanery, stopping once to discuss the mannequins posed in the window of an upscale boutique.
    “Do you think the mermaid trend will catch on?” Thessaly takes a step closer and shakes her head. “The wigs are literally made from dry seaweed.”
    “I think it’s more of an