Page 2

Chapter

One

“ G irl, your legs must be tired, because you’ve been running through my mind all day.” The corny remark was followed by a lewd whistle as the would-be Casanova eyed Paris as if she were a piece of prime cut meat.

She rolled her eyes heavenward, biting back the retort on the tip of her tongue.

Why had she let her co-workers talk her into coming to happy hour with them? She should have hit the gym, then taken a long hot bath and afterwards, curled up with a good mystery novel.

It certainly would have been much better than sitting in a smoky bar with drunken colleagues she normally didn’t hang out with outside of the office. And getting hit on by guys who got their pickup lines from their dads wasn’t exactly her cup of tea either. Hell, she didn’t even drink. What was she doing here?

“Hey, baby, are you deaf? I’m talking to you.”

Paris took a sip of her cola and did her best to ignore the pest standing next to her.

When her unwanted suitor grasped her shoulder, she finally acknowledged his presence. “You’re touching me, which I didn’t give you permission do. I’ve given you no indication that your advances are welcome. So you can either leave me alone or you’ll be pulling back a bloody stump. The choice is yours, buddy.”

A snarl crossed the man’s nondescript face, his hazel eyes narrowing with hostility. He yanked his hand away as though he’d been burned. “Are you a lesbo or something?”

“No. I’m just someone with taste.”

“You see, that’s the problem with you bitches. You all think too highly of yourselves. That’s why most of you are single and bitter.”

Paris rolled her eyes heavenward. This wasn’t the first time she’d had this insult thrown at her and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but it was a unique experience to be told this from someone who appeared to be twice her age and wearing a cologne that smelt like burnt fish.

She swiveled in his seat to face him and gave him a slow, disrespectful perusal. “Considering what’s out there, I’d rather be bitter and single.”

“Frigid bitch,” he muttered before storming off.

Asshole .

Why did men assume a woman was a lesbian because they were rejected? Or even worse, bitter? God forbid if some women just preferred their own company and wasn’t interested in a relationship.

Men were all a bunch of immature babies.

“Smooth move, Paris. That’s the third guy you’ve shot down in less than an hour. That last guy was kinda cute.” Carol from the finance department took the empty barstool next to hers. She’d been the one to invite Paris to happy hour.

Paris shrugged. “Was he? I didn’t notice. But I did notice the overwhelming scent of his cheap cologne.” She took another healthy swig of her soda and then glanced at her watch. Maybe if she left in a few minutes, she could make it home in time to catch the rest of the documentary series on space she’d been watching over the past few weeks.

“I take it you’re not having fun here tonight.” Carol flipped a lock of her long brown hair over her shoulder.

“This isn’t really my scene, but I appreciate you inviting me here. I don’t want to take you away from the others. You don’t have to keep me company. I needed to get away from the smoke in that corner everyone was sitting in. I don’t mean to be a spoilsport. Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“It’s okay. I’m not really in the mood to hear another fart joke right now. Is anything else the matter? You’ve been looking kind of down lately. Actually, I’m surprised you agreed to come out with us tonight.”

A faint smile touched Paris’s lips. She’d been thinking the same thing. “Maybe I’m just trying to break up the monotony in my life. It seems like all I’ve done lately is go to work, go to the gym, and then go home. It’s been months since I’ve even dated.”

Carol snorted. “I find that hard to believe. All the guys in the office practically fall over their feet when you’re around.”

“And I also know most of them call me the ice princess behind my back. I’m no fool. They’re interested in me because I’m a challenge to them: typical male response.” Paris sighed before taking another sip of her drink.

“Careful, Paris, you’re going get the reputation of being a man hater if you keep talking like that.”

“Would that be so terrible? Maybe then, I’ll be left alone.”

“You can’t really mean that. It would be a shame for someone as gorgeous as you to remain single.”

“So if I was unattractive, I’d be unworthy of a relationship?”

Carol scoffed and placed her hand against her chest. “That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that you’re bright, pretty and when you’re not being so gloomy, you’re a nice person. I think you’d make someone an ideal partner.”

Paris sighed. “I know you mean well, Carol but to be honest, I’m all burnt out when it comes to dating. I’ve had too many failed relationships to want to try again. At the rate I’m going, I’ll probably be single for the rest of my life.”

“You’re too young to be so jaded.”

Paris raised her shoulder in an uncaring shrug. “Maybe so, but it’s my life and right now I like it the way it is. Look, I think I’m going to head out now. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Already? You’ve only been here for an hour, not even that really. And you’ve barely interacted with anyone. When I invited you, I was surprised you showed up, but when you did, I was hoping you’d hang out with us more.”

“I’m sorry for not being very social. You’ve always been so kind to me and I felt bad for constantly turning you down for these work events. I thought I’d be up for this but I was wrong. And the smoke is giving me a headache. I didn’t realize they still allowed smoking in public buildings anymore.”

“To be fair, they don’t but the owner tends to look the other way and no one says much about it because the drinks are strong, and the appetizers are all five bucks. In this economy that’s nothing to sneeze at.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“I’m glad you could come out tonight even if it was just a bit. Maybe you and I can hang out, just the two, in a less rowdy location.”

A faint smile touched Paris’s lips. Carol was a nice lady. Under different circumstances they probably could have been great friends instead of acquaintances on very good terms. Paris blamed herself. It was hard opening up to people when she’d learned long ago the only person she could count on was herself. Everyone she’d ever cared about—she’d lost.

“Sounds good,” she answered although she knew she’d find an excuse to back out later. “I’m off now. I think I’ve had enough of being a killjoy for one night, but thanks again. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

Carol frowned. “Okay, hon. If that’s what you want, but you’ll be missed.”

Paris lifted a brow. “I seriously doubt that, but it’s nice of you to say so.”

“Be safe.” Carol gave her a hug before going to join the rowdy group on the other side of the bar.

Paris sighed, throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and grabbing her purse.

The subway ride home for once was peaceful. It was after rush hours, and she was able to get a seat for the duration of the ride. It was a cool summer night, and the three blocks Paris walked from the subway station to her upper Manhattan apartment was pleasant. Once inside, she happily kicked off her high heels.

Her tiny efficiency was only four hundred and fifty square feet, but in this neighborhood, it cost the earth. Still, it had a great view of the city, and it was her very own corner of the world. It was the first place she’d had all to herself. Nearly every inch of space was covered with furniture and knickknacks, making the place seem smaller, but she loved it.

Paris grabbed a bag of cheese curls and flipped on the television before flopping down on her daybed. The documentary about the discovery of new planets was in its final minutes. She cursed herself for forgetting to record it. Lately, she’d been fascinated with all things space and she didn’t have the faintest clue why. It made sense to her that mankind wasn’t the only intelligent lifeforms out there. It was an arrogant assumption that Earth was the only planet in the entire universe with functioning societies.

When she was younger, she dreamed of being an astronaut and exploring the deep recesses of space but without the encouragement of a loving family, she’d given up on that idea and had gone the practical route. Space travel hadn’t crossed her mind again until she’s stumbled on this program.

Once her show was over, she trudged to the bathroom to begin her nightly ritual of brushing her teeth and showering.

Totally boring.

When had her life become so lame? “Paris,” she spoke to her reflection in the mirror. “What you need in your life is a little excitement.” She studied her image. Large, slightly tilted dark brown eyes stared back at her in a medium brown face. Paris tucked a strand of her shoulder length black hair behind her ear. She’d recently gotten a silk press to change things up, but she preferred her natural curls.

Her lips were large and bow shaped, and nose tip-tilted and slightly wide. She hit the gym three times a week to maintain her hourglass figure. If there was one thing, she could change about herself it would be her height.

Five-foot-four wasn’t tiny, but the short jokes she received most of her life were something she could do without. Overall, Paris supposed she was an attractive woman, but in her opinion not so much as to receive all the attention she did at the bar tonight.

What was it with men? Did some kind of sensor go off in their heads when they knew a woman wasn’t interested? Why did they assume a woman couldn’t get by without them in their lives? It wasn’t that she disliked men. That wasn’t the case at all, but she’d yet to find one who excited her enough to take a chance on.

The ones she had dated fell into four categories: mama’s boys, conceited jerks, or men who only wanted to get in her pants. And her least favorite kind —the men who wanted know what you were bringing to the table, when they couldn’t afford a table. They were the type of men who expected a woman to be perfect in every way. Beautiful, accomplished, financially independent and intelligent. Meanwhile, they had three baby mamas, bad credit and questionable hygiene.

What the hell?

Paris had her fair share of that last type of guy.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in love. At one point in her life, she’d desperately craved it. But time and time again, she’d faced one let down after another. She’d been cheated on, lied to and disappointed in general. Dating for her was just one let down after another for her.

Where were all the nice guys that claimed to be out there? She saw other happy couples out there, but it just wasn’t happening for her. So here she was. Single and resigned to a fate of possibly dying alone. Besides, it wasn’t so bad. At least if she remained alone, she wouldn’t get hurt again.

Could the problem lay with her? Perhaps she was too picky, but was it so wrong to have standards? “You’re going to be an old lady by yourself,” she said to her reflection. It was just as well. She’d been alone most of her life. Why should the rest of it be any different?

Twenty years ago, at the age of two, her life was irrevocably changed when her mother and sister went missing. Some would think she wouldn’t have such clear memories from such an early age, but she did.

Paris recalled the night her mother had taken her sister London to the doctor. She’d wanted to go, crying when she didn’t get her way. Paris had been left with the babysitter. When they never returned, she was shattered. She’d stayed with the babysitter for some months, for how long she couldn’t remember exactly, until she was placed in a home for orphans. That part of her life went by in a blur. Some of the people in the foster homes she’d lived in were nice, some not so much, but they all had one thing in common: eventually she was separated from them.

Because of that, she’d built a protective shell around her heart. Not a day went by when she didn’t think about her mother and sister. When she was old enough to research their disappearance, Paris had learned the authorities had found her mother’s car turned over at the side of the road, but no bodies. Police suspected foul play. In her heart, she didn’t want to believe they were dead, but all evidence pointed to that theory.

It wrenched at her gut to think about them and how different her life would have been if they hadn’t disappeared. Would she be so closed off to others, mistrustful and cynical? She’d give anything to be the carefree person a woman her age should be. After all, she had a decent job as an underwriter for a large insurance company, her own place and enough money in her savings account to treat herself with luxuries every now and then.

But that hole in her heart from the disappearance of her mom and sister remained. There were times, Paris wished she’d gone missing with them. At least then they’d be together.

Turning away from the mirror, she undressed and stepped into the shower.

Yep, she definitely needed some excitement in her life.