The Favorite Sister by Jessica Knoll

The Favorite Sister by Jessica Knoll

Author:Jessica Knoll [Knoll, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2018-05-14T18:30:00+00:00


Dan the man is taking too long to bring me the club soda I requested, so I head downstairs and ask one of the bartenders at the back end of the restaurant. I’m blotting out the stain when I feel my phone buzz.

Not sure where you are but it’s late so taking Layla home, Kelly’s text reads. See you at Soho tom?

I’m just about to respond that I’m on the lower level when I see Kelly and Layla descend the stairs. I’m behind them, near the kitchen, so I know before they do that Vince is following them. He catches up to Kelly by the hostess station, reaching out and brushing her elbow, tentatively, almost as though he knows he shouldn’t be doing this. I’m too far away to hear them, but I watch as Kelly points out the bathroom in the front of the restaurant for Layla. Layla disappears inside, leaving Vince and Kelly alone.

Vince’s back is to me, but he must be speaking, because Kelly’s lips are still. Puckered but still. When she finally opens her mouth, she jabs a finger at Vince’s chest, never actually touching him, and I’m able to read her lips because she’s speaking slowly for emphasis, punctuating each word with her finger, Leave. It. Alone.

Suddenly, Kelly drops her hand by her side. She sees me. She says something dismissively to Vince, before rapping on the bathroom door, yelling at Layla to hurry up. I spin on my heel, giving Vince my back as he turns and retraces his path through the restaurant and up the stairs. I’m fast enough that he doesn’t notice me, but not so fast that I don’t take a mental snapshot of his expression. He is dejected, I realize, my chest ablaze with panic. Because if Stephanie finds out that her husband is chasing my sister down darkened stairwells, having what appears to be a lovers’ quarrel in the middle of the West Village’s sceniest restaurant, I don’t know what she would do. Worse, I don’t know what she would say.



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