London Is the Best City in America

Table of Contents

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Epigraph

 

part one

Three Years Later

 

part two

 

part three

 

part four

 

part five

Praise for Laura Dave and
London Is the Best City in America

A
San Francisco Chronicle
Bestseller

 

“Is every relationship a shot in the dark, or are some people meant to be together? That is what the endearingly quirky Emmy Everett ponders in Laura Dave’s charming, offbeat debut. . . . Dave steers clear of easy answers to deliver a novel that winningly explores the romantic choices we make.”—
USA Today

 


London
is twentysomething author Laura Dave’s first novel, and it’s such a satisfying read that you can’t even begrudge her the rumor that Hollywood it-girl Reese Witherspoon has optioned the film rights. . . . The relationships among her cast are complicated, fraught and tender. Her story reads sweet but real.”—
The Washington Post Book World

 


London Is the Best City in America
is a delicious comedy of manners and a smart examination of the heart and its desires. What a sparkling debut!”—Susan Isaacs, author of
Any Place I Hang My Hat

 

“I love when a book bites you in the ass, making it impossible to put down. This tale of an impending road trip bit me in the first paragraph—Laura’s writing is lyrical, witty and honest.”—
Jane

 

“The prime satisfactions of
London
come in its wisdom that the best possible thing any of the parties can hope for is that ‘someone would tell the truth.’ It keeps on course because it finds fresh ways to reinforce the most reliable piece of romantic wisdom around.”


The Philadelphia Inquirer

 

“In this witty, touching and funny debut novel, author Laura Dave seems to have her finger on the pulse of a generation of twentysomethings. . . .
London Is the Best City in America
will strike a chord with anyone having trouble making important decisions.”—
Bookpage


London Is the Best City in America
is literally one of the best summer reads for 2006.”—
Plum TV

 

“What a wonderful debut this is! I was completely taken with it and read it, neglecting nearly everything else, with the kind of delight one feels when in the thrall of a master storyteller. Laura Dave isn’t on her way. She has arrived!”—Richard Bausch, author of
Wives and Lovers

 

“In Dave’s winning debut . . . it’s hard not to root for these vivid characters; even the heroine’s high school flame . . . is distinctive and likable, making Emmy’s interest in him contagious. Josh and Emmy’s happy, exasperating parents . . . round out the cast, giving readers plenty of reasons to enjoy this promising new author.”—
Publishers Weekly

 

“Dave serves up low-key drama and bittersweet romance with humor, intelligence, and genuine charm.”—
DailyCandy.com

 

“Incredibly deft, utterly satisfying . . . I love every character. A triumph of a first novel.”—Melissa Bank, author of
The Girls’ Guide to Hunting and Fishing
and
The Wonder Spot

 

“Dave’s absorbing, piercing debut takes place over a weekend. . . . So much happens in [this] wonderfully plotted first novel that it’s hard to believe the events all occur in the space of a few days. Dave expertly captures the ennui and indecision many twenty- and thirtysomethings grapple with when faced with big, life-changing decisions.”—
Booklist

 

“Siblings Emmy and Josh Everett both suffer from the quintessential problem of modern twentysomethings: paralysis from indecision. . . . The relatable storyline ends just as it should.”—
Entertainment Weekly

 


London Is the Best City in America,
is . . . perfect summer reading . . . or staying-up-all-night reading . . . or, well, you get the idea. . . . [In] a weekend of clandestine journeys, bittersweet moments and flashes of revelation, the quirky, thoughtful Emmy emerges as the quintessential romantic-comedy heroine.”—
iVillage.com

“Is it possible to have a crush on a book? If so, then I did and do for Laura Dave’s fine, funny, surprising first novel.”

—Liam Callanan, author of
The Cloud Atlas

 

“Dave’s first novel is beautifully written . . . [her] characters care more about their personal journeys than their shoe brands. Fans of Melissa Bank and Jennifer Weiner will want to read this one.”


Library Journal

 

“Laura’s debut novel reads like she’s been writing books for years and years. The book is polished, the prose is sharp, the story is multilayered.”

—Conversations with Famous Writers

 

“With its suspenseful plot, endearing heroine and vivid prose, Laura Dave’s
London Is the Best City in America
is an immensely appealing novel.”—Margot Livesey, author of
Eva Moves the Furniture

 

“Heartwarming, emotional and thought-provoking, Laura Dave’s debut novel strikes a core at the ties that bond a brother and sister . . . her descriptive storytelling makes the reader feel a connection to the lead characters as if they were the family next door.
London Is the Best City in America
is truly a winner.”—Fresh
Fiction.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Laura Dave lives in New York City. Her writing has appeared in
Self, Glamour,
and
The New York Observer.
Visit her Web site at
www.lauradave.com
.

PENGUIN BOOKS

 

 

Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

First published in the United States of America by Viking Penguin,
a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. 2006
Published in Penguin Books 2007

 

 

Copyright © Laura Dave, 2006

All rights reserved

 

PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product
of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

ISBN : 978-1-4406-2857-3

CIP data available

 

 

 

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

http://us.penguingroup.com

To my parents; and my brother.

acknowledgments

For such stellar guidance, insight, and unending faith in me, I am deeply grateful to my editors Carole DeSanti and Molly Barton; my agent Gail Hochman; and Dana Forman, this book’s first friend.

 

The all-stars:
Sylvie Rabineau; Beena Kamlani, Carolyn Coleburn, Nancy Sheppard, and Carolyn Horst at Viking; Marianne Merola and Joanne Brownstein at Brandt and Hochman; and Gwyn Lurie.

The know-it-alls:
Gayle Walsch; Rick Blanchard; Bill Dittmar of Bully Boy Bullmastiffs; Camrin Crisci; my wonderful teachers at the University of Virginia and the University of Pennsylvania; and Jeremy Church—my favorite fisherman.

My fantastic, first readers:
Elizabeth Weinstein; Julie Farkas; Jessica Bohrer; Nick Breslow; Shannan Rouss; and Ben Tishler.

Supporters of every variety:
Ben Cramer; Carolyn Marie Janiak; Meg Blevins; Vicki Brand; Bonnie Carrabba; Andrew Cohen; Brett Forman; Jenny Kennedy; Jenni Lapidus; Dot Lasky; Caitlin Leffel; Lisa Menitoff; Whitney Pellegrino; Melissa Rice; Becca Richards; Jill Schwartzman; Courtenay Seabring; Shauna Seliy; Josh Ufberg; and Maggie Vining.

The people and places that made writing a first novel possible:
the Henry Hoyns Fellowship; the Tennessee Williams Scholarship; Jody Donohue Associates; The Ventana Inn in Big Sur; The Writers Room; 71 Irving; and my great editors at
Self Magazine
and
ESPN the Magazine
.

If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.

—Oscar Wilde

Narragansett, Rhode Island

She told herself that if he touched her one time, she wouldn’t leave. She told herself that if in his sleep tonight, he reached for her, or put his hand on her leg, his hand on her knee, his face near her face, his leg against her leg, his mouth against her back, his palm on her stomach, his arm on her hip, his hip beside her leg, his head beneath her shoulders, his cheek along her neck—she would stick it out. All these options, he had! And Emmy would stick it out forever. Stay put, stay faithful, stay here.

Where was here? Not home. They weren’t home. It was the Friday before Independence Day and a hundred degrees outside, and they were in a highway motel in southern Rhode Island, on their way to his parents’ in Maine for the long weekend. They hadn’t planned on stopping, but they had left the city late because her meeting with their wedding planner had run late, and then he had been annoyed. And then she had been annoyed because—did she really need to remind him?—she hadn’t wanted a wedding planner in the first place, had wanted just the two of them on a cliff somewhere, maybe New Mexico, high above sea level, adobe houses seeping into dry land.

Emmy turned over onto her back. The sheets were stiff here. The fire alarm was right above her head. The television remote was next to her. The ordering went: her, television remote, him. He was on his back too. She could turn on the television and it wouldn’t wake him. She could get up and get dressed and go get a Coke at the vending machine and it wouldn’t wake him. She could sit with her Coke by the indoor pool for an hour or two hours and her absence wouldn’t wake him.

If he happened to wake up by himself and see that she was gone, he would be worried, but not so worried that he’d come look for her. He would take a shower first. He would listen to the radio and get a traffic update. He would call his family to give them an estimated time of arrival. He would wait.

It used to be another way. Emmy knew this. Just like she knew that if she left today, she would lose him. She was losing him slowly anyway. But if she left today, she would lose him quickly and entirely. Her devotion had been enough to ward that off so far. To keep them together. Matt was loyal to that type of devotion. He was marrying her, wasn’t he? He’d keep showing up for her and sleeping with her and spending his time with her, and maybe if she paid less attention to him, she wouldn’t see that he wasn’t in love with her anymore. Maybe, after time, she could convince herself that he was at least something close to in love with her, or he could convince himself of the same thing. And she could go on, the way she had been going on—both having him and longing for him.

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