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Chapter Fifteen

A urora

“Hey,” I say, entering the salon from the back. The familiar smells and sounds from the old building help recenter me from the day’s chaos. No matter where I work or how much I love working elsewhere, The Luxe will always be home. “Where are you, Jamie?”

I peek into her office. The light is on, but the room is empty.

“I’m in the front,” she calls back.

“Today has been a day, and I mean a day ,” I say, traipsing through the building with a wine bottle swinging in my hand. “Wait until you hear this. It’s going to blow your mind.”

“If you could give me just a few minutes before you blow my mind, that would be great,” she says. “Unless, of course, you don’t mind Curtis hearing your story.”

I round the corner and wince. A man sits in her chair with a cape covering his chest. He’s probably a little older than us, but handsome in a slightly distinguished way.

“Sorry,” I say, giving him a little wave. “I didn’t realize Jamie still had a client.”

“It’s no problem at all.” He nods toward the bottle at my side. “What kind of wine is that, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Cheap and red.”

“She was supposed to bring whiskey,” Jamie says, dusting his neck. “I’m not sure how to read the fact that she opted for wine instead.”

I plop down in the chair my clients sit in when I’m working. “It’s simple. I have to drive home and work tomorrow. As much as this day warrants whiskey, wine is the more responsible option.”

“If you ever want pointers on vino, I’d be happy to share my knowledge with you,” Curtis says. “I’m somewhat of a wine connoisseur.”

Something about how he says it makes me want to laugh—not with him, but at him. Who calls themselves a wine connoisseur? And unless you’re Italian—which I’d bet he’s not, who says vino?

“We’re more like amateurs instead of experts when it comes to wine,” Jamie says. “As long as it does its job, we’re happy.”

“You ladies are missing out,” Curtis says. “Wine is an experience.”

I choke, pressing a hand to my chest as I hack up a lung. Curtis, the best wine on earth doesn’t hold a candle to the experiences I’ve had as of late.

“Are you okay, Aurora?” Jamie asks, watching me curiously.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat, patting my chest. “Excuse me.”

Jamie removes Curtis’s cape, and he gets to his feet. He’s shorter than I would’ve guessed, and thinner than I imagined. I might’ve been vaguely interested in him if I didn’t just leave the sexiest man alive.

I groan at the thought.

This is so unfair—to me and to every man I meet in the future. I can’t compare them all to Tate. He can’t be the bar by which other men are measured. No one stands a chance.

Settle down, Aurora. This is your newfound libido talking. Tate might be gorgeous, sexy, sweet, and an absolute legend in bed, but Lewis and Kent both seemed wonderful at first, too. Give it time.

I sigh. I’m either a sucker for punishment or a terrible judge of male character.

Come to think of it, I might be both.

“Here you go,” Curtis says, handing Jamie a few crisp bills. “Great work.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll call you in about six weeks,” he says.

“Sounds like a plan.”

He nods. But instead of leaving, he turns to me.

I have the sudden urge to run. It’s not out of fear—I could probably take ole Curtis with my shears if I had to. It’s more of a disinterest in conversing with him. I came to talk to Jamie about Tate, not chitchat with a self-described wine connoisseur.

“Aurora, right?” he asks.

“That’s right.”

He smiles broadly. “Would you be interested in going out for dinner on Wednesday night?”

Jamie makes a face as she sweeps around her chair.

I start to turn him down. Who goes on a dinner date in the middle of the workweek? My lips part with a practiced speech about being too busy to date right now, but thanks for the offer. But before those words can come, I stop myself.

Why turn him down? Is he my dream man? No. But I’m supposed to be making sure that I sample the goods before I settle down again, and I’ve never dated a vino lover before. Maybe it’s what I’m into.

I snort, covering it with a cough. It’s not what I’m into. But at least I won’t be home rotting and dreaming of Tate. That’s the real objective.

I think.

“Why not?” I say, returning his smile as widely as I can. “Let’s do it.”

Jamie mutters something under her breath.

Curtis’s face lights up. “Would you like to go anywhere specifically?”

“I like about everything.”

“I really prefer that you pick the place, so I know you’ll enjoy it.”

“Okay,” I say, wishing he had taken the lead and made the decision. “How about Leo’s downtown?”

He frowns. “Sorry, but I’m not really into seafood.”

“ Okay . How about Caesar’s?”

“That’s fine.”

Don’t sound too excited. You could’ve picked the place if you had this many feelings over the location.

“What time?” he asks. “Let’s do it before seven. It’s so much cheaper in the evening.” He taps the side of his head. “Gotta save where you can so you can have more money for vino.”

Oh my God. Help me. Please.

I look at Jamie, regretting my decision already. She shakes her head, amused.

“Six,” I offer, trying not to cringe. If he can’t make it at six, I’ll back out.

“I think I can make six,” he says. Great. “Should we meet there?”

“Sure.”

“Awesome. I’ll see you then, Aurora. Goodbye, Jamie.”

She nods. “Bye, Curtis.”

I hold my breath and Jamie holds her broom, neither of us moving or speaking until the door closes behind him.

“What the hell was that?” I ask, slumping back into my chair.

“Did you not read my face? I was telling you to say no. And don’t lie because I know my face speaks for me.”

I hand her the bottle of vino . “I did read your face, but I chose to ignore it. That’s apparently what I do now. I ignore every gut instinct and sign from the universe.”

My brain sorts through a plethora of things I’ve done in the past few days that I shouldn’t have because I knew better.

Converse with Tate on the plane. Staging a run-in with him at Ruma.

Going to his room and letting him bend me into a pretzel.

I snuck out, ignored my boss’s calls, and ate half of a pie in my hotel room with a plastic spoon.

Even though it was the best damn pie I’ve ever tasted, it still made me nauseous the whole flight home.

And then I agreed to work under the guy I just laid under like I have some magical ability to separate the two.

The list goes on and on.

Jamie locks the door and flips the sign around to Closed. Then she heads into the back and retrieves two wineglasses that we hide for nights we hang out and clean, organize, or work late.

“So guess what happened to me today,” I say, accepting a glass of wine from her.

“I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Start with the wildest coincidence that you can imagine. Really let your mind wander. Be creative.”

The phrase creative juices comes to mind, and I wonder if this is the rest of my life. Will something happen every day to bring me back to the less than twenty-four hours I spent with Tate?

She sips her drink, wheels spinning in her head. “You’re pregnant.”

“What? No . Why would you even say that?”

“It meets the parameters. It would be wild, and a coincidence since you’ve just started being active sexually again. It’s also creative.”

I down half of the glass of wine, willing the alcohol to hit and wear down the edge of my nerves. Jamie reaches over to give me a refill.

“No, I’m not pregnant,” I say, shaking my head. “I hate you for even saying that.”

“Why?”

“ Why ? Why would you even put that into the universe? If I’m going to be a mother, I’d like for it to be with someone I’m in a serious relationship with, not some guy I decided to bang one random night.”

Because Tate would be the daddy.

An image of him carrying a sweet little nugget tries to enter my mind, but I punch it back like my worst enemy. Definitely not going there.

“That’s fair.” She grins devilishly. “But I can’t help but love the fact that you just said those words. Not some guy I decided to bang one random night. My baby girl is back.”

I roll my eyes. “Your baby girl isn’t back. First, I’m not your baby girl. And second, I’ve never been this person, so I can’t be back.”

“Semantics.”

“Can we get back to my day, please?” I ask, the wine beginning to warm my cheeks.

She takes a drink, telling me with her eyes to continue.

“So I went to work this morning, and we had a meeting,” I say. “We were supposed to learn what was going to happen now that my boss left.”

“Okay. Where are we going with this?”

“Well,” I say, setting my glass down. I can’t be trusted to hold it at this point in the story. “Guess who’s filling in for Charlie?”

“No clue.”

“Tate.”

She slow blinks.

“ Tate, Jamie. The hottie from this weekend.”

Her jaw drops to the floor. “ No .”

“Yes.”

“How?”

I cross one leg over the other and get settled in. “Apparently, Tate’s last name is Brewer. As in, he’s part owner of the franchise .”

Jamie gasps. “You banged a billionaire?”

I burst out laughing. “I guess so. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“You’re the new Anastasia Steele.”

My stomach clenches at the visual that pops up in my head. Being tied up has never appealed to me before, but now …

I shiver.

“How is this working out?” Jamie asks. “Was he cool with it?”

“I had the best night of my life with Kelly.” He winks. “And I’d do just about anything to see her again.”

I laugh, blowing out a heavy breath. “Oh, he’s cool with it.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

“This man is something else,” I say. “He wasn’t supposed to take this position. He only did it after he realized I worked there.”

“Why do the gods love you so much?”

I laugh again.

“How did he take finding out you’re not Kelly Kapowski?” she asks.

“I think he was shocked. Probably a little irritated. But I was shocked and irritated, too, that he withheld his last name from me—which, may I point out to you like I did to him, was a much bigger deal.”

“And let me go out on a limb here and say that you have decided to take this once-in-a-lifetime situation and have an adverse reaction to it.”

I give her a look, warning her to tread lightly, and take another large gulp of wine.

“I’m starting to think you enjoy sabotaging yourself,” she says.

“It’s not that. You haven’t seen him, Jamie. He’s too perfect. He’s too … gah!” I get to my feet, unable to sit still any longer. “He’s trouble—a walking heartbreak that I don’t need in my life.”

“Maybe you do need it.”

My eyes bulge. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugs noncommittally. “When have you ever lived dangerously?”

“I just took a date with Curtis, for fuck’s sake. That’s living dangerously if I ever heard it.”

“No, that was just … again, self-sabotage.”

I roll my eyes. “I had a one-night stand. That was dangerous, and that’s what got me here.”

“Welcome to the real world where, statistically speaking—because I did look this up—nearly half of all women our age have had one.”

She pauses, giving me time to refute her claim. But I don’t.

“Listen, Ror. As your best friend, I’m saying this with love.

But take a step back and look at this from an outside perspective.

You’ve told me since the day you left Kent that you want to do something different with your life.

Now, you’ve done it, and you’re scared. New things are supposed to be scary. ”

I exhale, wishing I could argue that, too.

“You have had more spark, more energy—more passion—in the past few days than I might’ve ever seen you possess in all the years I’ve known you. You’ve given me every indication that you like this billionaire bad boy,” she says. “Am I reading this wrong?”

Everything in me wants to say no. I want to deny that she’s right and pretend I don’t want Tate. But that would be a big fat lie.

I do want him . I’m not surprised by that, because I knew I would. From the moment he turned to me and smiled, I knew I was playing with fire. But I can’t see anything ending well between the two of us, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that I have to protect myself.

No one else is going to do it, that’s for damn sure.

“Yes, I like him,” I admit because it’s pointless to lie to my best friend. “But that doesn’t mean it’s smart or healthy.”

“You have to start trusting yourself.”

“I do. That’s why I’m putting up barriers and holding them tight.”

“Right. Because people put up barriers because they trust themselves so damn much. Got it.”

I glare at her.

“Look, I’m on your side no matter how goofy you get,” she says. “And I do agree that you have to be smart when it comes to men.” She leans forward. “But I also think you have to be smart when it comes to you. This guy, Tate, has been great to you, and you’re denying yourself fun … why?”

No matter what I say, it’s going to sound dumb. So I don’t bother.

After a long soak in the bath and a couple of cocktails on Sunday night, I called Jamie and filled in the gaps from our walk of shame conversation on Saturday morning.

I was relaxed and a little freer with my thoughts and feelings than I probably should’ve been.

I think it painted a picture that might be a little too … accurate.

“I’m not denying myself anything,” I say. “I’m just giving myself new opportunities for adventure.”

She snorts. “You mean Curtis?”

“Yeah. I mean Curtis.”

She downs the rest of her drink and grabs the broom again.

“Do you think Curtis is going to be the guy to bring you passion and love and affection?” she asks. “Or is the vino connoisseur your next lover boy?”

The thought makes me want to gag.

“No,” I admit. “I don’t necessarily think he fits any of those qualifiers. But he is closer to my age and less likely to break my heart.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be picky this time around?”

“Yes, and I am. I intentionally chose a man who would provide me with something else to think about.”

“Besides the guy you really like, right?”

She hums.

I hum back at her.

This is a mess—a big ole mess. But I’m determined not to let my attraction to my boss derail my new direction in life.

I can handle this. I’ve got this.

I also fear that I am lying to myself.