Summer and the City by Candace Bushnell

Author:Candace Bushnell [Bushnell, Candace]
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: HarperCollins US
Published: 2011-05-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

“This will never do,” Samantha says, shaking her head.

“It’s luggage.” I, too, glare at the offending suitcase. It’s ugly, but still, the sight of that suitcase makes me insanely jealous. I’m going back to boring old Castlebury while Samantha is headed for Los Angeles.

Los Angeles! It’s a very big deal and she only found out yesterday. She’s going to shoot a commercial and stay at the Beverly Hills Hotel, which is where all the movie stars hang out. She bought enormous sunglasses and a big straw hat and a Norma Kamali bathing suit that you wear with a white T-shirt underneath. In honor of the occasion, I tried to find a palm tree at the party store, but all they had were some green paper leafy things that I’ve wrapped around my head.

There are clothes and shoes everywhere. Samantha’s enormous green plastic Samsonite suitcase lies open on the living room floor.

“It’s not luggage, it’s baggage,” she complains.

“Who’s going to notice?”

“Everyone. We’re flying first-class. There’ll be porters. And bellhops. What are the bellhops going to think when they discover Samantha Jones travels with Samsonite?”

I love it when Samantha does that funny thing and talks about herself in the third person. I tried it once myself, but there was no way I could pull it off. “Do you honestly think the bellhops are going to be more interested in Samsonite than Samantha Jones?”

“That’s just it. They’ll expect my luggage to be glamorous as well.”

“I bet that jerky Harry Mills carries American Tourister. Hey,” I say, swinging my legs off the back of the couch. “Did you ever think that someday you’d be traveling with a man you hardly knew? It’s kind of weird, isn’t it? What if your suitcase opens by accident and he sees your Skivvies?”

“I’m not worried about my lingerie. I’m worried about my image. I never thought I’d have this life when I bought that.” She frowns at the suitcase.

“What did you think?” I hardly know anything about Samantha’s past, besides the fact that she comes from New Jersey and seems to hate her mother. She never mentions her father, so these tidbits about her early life are always fascinating.

“Only about getting away. Far, far away.”

“But New Jersey’s just across the river.”

“Physically, yes. Metaphorically, no. And New York wasn’t my first stop.”

“It wasn’t?” Now I’m really intrigued. I can’t imagine Samantha living anywhere but New York.

“I traveled all around the world when I was eighteen.”

I nearly fall off the couch. “How?”

She smiles. “I was a groupie. To a very famous rock ’n’ roll guy. I was at a concert and he picked me out of the crowd. He asked me to travel with him and I was stupid enough to think I was his girlfriend. Then I found out he had a wife stashed away in the English countryside. That suitcase has been all around the world.”

I wonder if Samantha’s hatred of her luggage is actually due to a bad association with the past. “And then what happened?”

She shrugs, picking out lingerie from the pile and folding the pieces into little squares.

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