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Summer in Manhattan
KATHERINE GARBERA A division of HarperCollinsPublishers HarperImpulse an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2017 Copyright © Katherine Garbera 2017 Cover images © Shutterstock.com Cover design © Books Covered 2017 Katherine Garbera asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780008142544 Ebook Edition © July 2017 ISBN: 9780008194765 Version: 2017-07-11 Table of Contents
Sunny, summery, perfect. That was all Cici Johnson thought as she walked out the front door of her building on New York’s Upper East Side. She’d been living in the City for more than five years. She’d gone into business with her two best friends, Hayley and Iona, and they were the toast of the town thanks to Valentine’s Day and their new chocolate making classes. But like Hayley said, give a girl chocolate and she’s happy for one day, teach a girl to make her own and she’ll be happy forever. Or something like that. But then Hayley was in the flush of new love so everything seemed so great and optimistic for her. She wasn’t on skid row with her relationship, which was the way Cici seemed to be. Numbers were her game and always had been. For most of her life, she didn’t realize that everyone didn’t see numbers in their head the way that she did. In fact, she’d rather deal with a spreadsheet or analyze statistics any day than have to try to figure out people. Bad ass number cruncher, she thought, as she pulled her horn-rimmed glasses from her bag and put them on. As if being a math nerd
