Tuesday at Three

By Gillian Alex

A transplant to New York via California, Alexa Ross has enthusiastically adopted the no-nonsense sensibilities of the quintessential New York City girl. Although heartbroken following a breakup, she isnt one to take life sitting downhence the cross-country move. Suddenly single, Alexa must try to set her life rightor else set it deliciously wrong.

She embarks on a series of drunken adventures and romantic missteps in the attempt to find happiness amid the vibrant and hustling New York scene. Along the way, however, she realizes that her sensitive heart isnt quite as protected by her tough-girl skin as she previously believed. In the course of the melee, she hammers out what she believes are the keys to life for women: Smart Girl Rules. Alexa begins to write out these rules, giving herself a timeout every Tuesday at three to invest herself in answering lifes big questionsand the best answers that she finds may just be the scariest.

In this coming-of-age tale of modern womanhood, a nonstop city girl examines her experiences and transforms them into life lessons through a series of journal entries.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Nov 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781480834231

Gillian Alex

Gillian Alex calls herself one-third go-getter, one-third Stepford wife, and one-third feminist. An alum of Sacramento State, she launched GirlsTimeOutBlog in 2011. Tuesday at Three is her first book. Originally from the Bay Area, she currently lives in New York City.

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Copyright © 2016 Gillian Alex.

Cover Design by

Marcus Marritt, www.marcusmarrittillustrator.com

Editing and Typography by

Kate E. Stephenson, www.KempsConsulting.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-3422-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-3423-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016911220

Archway Publishing rev. date: 11/10/2016

Contents

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

This book is dedicated to Shirley, Darrell, and Gwen.

This book is dedicated to my aunts Ecki and Brenda.

This book is dedicated to my twelve best friends.

This book is dedicated to my editor, Kate.

This book is dedicated to every person who has ever come up to me on the street, in a store, or the airport and told me that they liked my hair.

This book is dedicated to every only child who isn’t afraid to talk to themselves.

This book is dedicated to every boy who didn’t support my dreams, didn’t see me after the first date, or who I dated long term but never wanted to marry me, and I thank you soo much for the lack of effort on your part because if you had the balls to propose, right now, the only thing I would be is your stupid wife.

This book is dedicated to me…

JANUARY

Sunday, January 1, 2012

12:00am

Happy New Year! Not soo much…

Monday, January 2nd

12:01am

It’s been twenty-four hours and the stroke of midnight hasn’t made a bit of difference. Amidst all of the confetti and streamers, champagne, and smiling faces, I’m still hurting. The ball drop didn’t mean shit. Hell, if I never see another New Year’s Eve again, it will be too soon. Steven was never going to give me what I wanted. I asked. I begged. I cried. I just wanted to get married, but he didn’t and as much as I want to hate him, I can’t.

4:30pm

Been thinking all day. I probably need to see a shrink, but would much rather spend the money on a great dinner with friends or a pair of pricey pretty pumps. So instead, after I hit the gym, I’m stopping at Papyrus and picking up a journal. This will be my therapy. I will chronicle my true feelings. My office always winds down midday and the minute I see an open window, I will stop and write.

Let’s see if this works…

Tuesday, January 3rd

1:15pm

Today is perfect. The office is dead. My boss, Joan, is on holiday and I don’t need to be back to the office until Friday. I only came in to sign for a package from FEDEX and then I’m outta here, but not before I pull out my journal and write. My heart is heavy. This will be my first entry.

Journal Entry #1

Love of My Life

I’ve already met him. We are not married. We are not dating. We are not a couple, but I am in love with him and he is in love with me. I respect him so much that I will not tell his secrets and only give my friends tidbits of our escapades. He is my rock. He is the boy version of me: strong, caring, and humble. He completes me. I am his favorite and he is my everything. We get each other and respect what we have. Truthfully, we could care less about the sordid details of each other’s lives. So I don’t care where he spends his weekends; he doesn’t care who gave me my latest bauble; and neither one of us cares to discuss who we are sleeping with. We cherish our memories and live the time we still spend together like it is endless. Anything outside of us is meaningless.

What we have is not complicated as there is no one object, one place, or one time in our lives that our friendship is built on. I didn’t stop falling in love with him when the gifts stopped. He didn’t stop missing me because we couldn’t talk. He holds the key to my heart and he knows it. He is the one who I don’t have to hold my breath for when we are together because his only wish is that I breathe. I don’t have to long for his touch because it’s always there. When we are together, women are jealous and men are mesmerized. We are a power couple, a good guy and a great girl.

Break-ups have a way of showing you both the good and bad about yourself. I now realize that the love of my life is not the guy who had me at hello — instead; he is the guy that still has me at good-bye. I only hope that I will meet him again.

Friday, January 6th

7:00am

After five days of self-evaluation, tears, and vodka — I’M BACK and it’s official. I’m ready to take on the New Year and all SHE has to offer.

8:15am

On the way to the office and the subway train is packed. A businessman carrying an attaché case in one hand and the Wall Street Journal in the other just yelled at me to MOVE IN. Only in New York City.

9:00am

Miraculously, there is no line at the deli on East 41st. I’m ordering egg whites and turkey bacon on wheat toast with coffee. All for $3.50 — cheapest breakfast in America.

10:01am

The office is still dead.

12:00pm

Joan sent an email; she’s expecting another package. As soon as it arrives I’m outta here.

3:00pm

Finally! The package arrived and now it’s yoga time. Class starts at four o’clock, so I’ll make it in plenty of time.

6:00pm

Leaving yoga. Bikram Yoga (hot yoga) is set up in three rows in front of a mirror so you can see everybody. Now the practice calls for you to be one with yourself while the heat works to cleanse both your mind and body of toxins, except I was watching him which was making me the other kind of hot. The guy who was in front of me during class is a Black Matthew McConaughey, both rugged and sexy. I was staring at him the whole time. I would have licked the sweat off his back. Yeah — he is that fine. And he invited me to dinner next week.

On the elevator ride down, Mr. BMM introduced himself and gave me his card:

Darren Blake

Blake Capital LLC

CEO

6:15pm

I need a snack so I’m stopping at Gray’s Papaya to get a hot dog. I know this is bad, but that’s why I work out; so I can eat like a pig and drink like a fish.

7:00pm

Last minute invite from my girlfriend, Ava. She wants me to meet her at a restaurant in midtown. Tonight’s dinner is courtesy of Levine, Thurman & Rowe. She just made partner. She’s a POWER bitch and she’s expensing it.

8:00pm

Heading back downtown. I did the transformation in record time.

9:59pm

Dinner was great and we’re going to keep the party going, but I need to hit the bathroom to fix my face.

10:09pm

Still in the bathroom and now chatting up the chick at the sink next to me. We exchange compliments. I gushed over her belt and shoes while she praised my ring and bracelet. As we continue to bond over the importance of accessorizing, I tell her my name, Alexa. She tells me hers, Kelly. She then asks, What’s your story? I tell her the truth: I work as an executive assistant, but run a small accessory company. She smiles and hands me her card, telling me to give her a call. As luck would have it, she works for Accessory Magazine. This is huge.

11:15pm

Ava and I just made it to a lounge in midtown and the stares can’t stop.

11:20pm

A casually dressed older white guy is coming our way and he is all smiles. When he approaches, he introduces himself as the owner. His name is Liam. Of course he asks what we are drinking and as Ava hesitates, I jump right in enthusiastically stating, Two martinis, dirty with olives.

Saturday, January 7th

12:21am

Fast forward. We are on round three and Ava has loosened up and is now the one doing all the talking. We are having fun.

2:30am

Liam had his driver take us home and since I live uptown, I’m the last stop.

2:44am

My feet are on FIRE! and I can barely make it up the last flight of stairs to my apartment. As soon as I get to the door of my apartment, I’m kicking my pumps off.

2:49am

I’m in and as my feet regain consciousness, my phone buzzes. It’s a text from my lover, Kola.

I MISS U BABY…WHERE R U

1:16am

My reply: JUST GOT IN. CUM OVER.

3:00am

My Kola. He’s sleep. I’m staring at him. He’s twenty-seven, African, and an amazing lover. He’s the third African guy I’ve been with. My first was from Senegal, second Mali, and Kola is from Nigeria. Now based on what some may view as only minimal experience, my belief is that all African men are granted access to the States if and only if they pass a love making test. Further, unlike my previous lovers, Kola was born here proving that this trait can be inherited and passed down from generation to generation. My God…

Sunday, January 8th

2:30pm

Day Party!! I’m on my way to the Meat Packing District to meet the girls for Sunday Brunch. Ava, Madelyn, and Cindy. They are my jury. My partners in crime. My friends.

4:02 pm

Our table is flooded with Italian heartthrobs and I’m holding on to every other word from the sexiest. His name is GianMarco and I can barely understand him but who cares. He’s a sweetheart. Not only do we exchange numbers, but he gives me cab fare and then says: Pereme non vai a Casa? Cosi ti puoi riposare. Ci vediamo fiv tardi. I look at him and smile. He gently kisses my cheek and begins to translate. He wants me to go home and rest my head and promises that when he returns to the States we’ll hang out. Now until then, I’m jumping on the train and using my cab money for a mani/pedi. The first book I read when I moved to New York City was Coffee, Tea or Me? (circa 1968) and let’s just say that the game ain’t changed.

Monday, January 9th

7:30pm

Exhausted from my action packed weekend, but today’s saving grace was that Joan was working from home so the day breezed by.

Didn’t have to do shit and now I’m on the way to meet BMM from the yoga class. I swore I was going to stop with all of the snooping and Dateline investigations antics when I meet a new guy, but I must have someone in the office run a D&B report on Blake Capital LLC.

10:15pm

My date tonight was nice and I’m looking forward to hanging out with BMM again. Yes, that’s his official nickname. My girlfriends and I always give guys a nickname. Not only do we find them hilarious as usually they are a spot-on description, for better or worse; but they serve as a means for us to discuss the guy sometimes right in his presence and him not even know it.

11:00pm

I’m home and I really want to pull out my journal and write. It felt soo good last week, but I’m actually going to wait until tomorrow afternoon. There’s something about taking a break during the day that I like. It’s like my adult version of a time out.

Tuesday, January 10th

12:05pm

I’m outta here on Joan’s heels. She just left for a business lunch and I’m timing this escape like a movie script. I’m guessing she will stop at the bathroom and then three minutes later will be pressing the down button on the elevator. That gives me five minutes until my exit. I’m going to a business lunch of sorts myself. Hitting the Mediterranean restaurant around the corner. I’m ordering the prefix, a glass of wine and bringing my journal. I’m going to pretend that I’m a writer.

Journal Entry #2

I Love New York

Yesterday when I exited the subway, I received a text message from BMM stating that he was running about thirty minutes late for our date. That was perfect because, as usual, I was running twenty minutes late. We were meeting in Union Square so, rather than change my shoes one block away from the restaurant like I usually do, I decided to brave the three blocks in my heels. As I was sitting on a bench about to do the switch-out from my TB flats to my wedges, a girl sat down next to me and, before I even had the chance to compliment her nail polish, she tackled her own switch-out from Manolos to ballerina flats and, pulling out a cigarette and lighter, collapsed back on the bench. As this whole transaction was going down all I could think to myself was:

This is why I Love NYC…

It seems like it is the only place in the world where girls really own their WOMANHOOD. We practice it daily and parade it around triumphantly. We gracefully march around the city like we own it. Women move through New York City like lightning. We carry some of the best bags, filled with everything from gym clothes and makeup to textbooks and laptops.

Chicks in New York City know how to find their lane and stay in it. We breeze past movie sets with an attitude and can’t be bothered by the cavalcade of construction workers’ catcalls. The hustle and bustle of the city turns us into straight shooters.

We either like you or we don’t. We party Uptown or Downtown. We’re in love with the Lower Eastside or detest the Upper Westside.

The opportunities for success here are endless. You can land a job at the company of your dreams and work your way up or simply work any ol’ day job as long as it gives you the freedom to pursue your true passion.

It’s the one city where you do not judge a book by its cover — if only because you are likely to be standing next to a millionaire on the subway or cycling next to a politician in Spin class. It’s the one city where knowing the bouncer at a lounge is more important than knowing the owner of the lounge.

Sometimes it’s hard to concentrate with all the adventure that’s waiting at your doorstep. It’s a grown woman’s playground and, if you have the right toys, you’re happy to skip naptime.

Although I’m a California girl and credit my cool, laid-back upbringing for my cheerful demeanor, I’m glad that I ended up here. This city continues to prove its loyalty to me by way of great restaurants, great people and great fun.

Thursday, January 11th

9:00am

Just got to