Page 204 of The Havenport Collection

Nora

“ I ’ve told you a dozen times. I am not getting back on the apps.” I swished the wine in my glass to avoid Dante’s eye.

“You are being petulant, Nora. Get yourself back out there.”

“Do you have any idea how dire things are out there? You guys have been in your love cocoon for, like, a decade. Most dudes are gross and just looking for hookups. And while I certainly don’t mind a hookup every once in a while…”

“Ew. Stop, Nora.” Christian put his hands over his ears. My older brother treated me like was still a child, much like the rest of my family, actually. But his husband Dante loved the dirt.

He shoved Christian out of the booth. “Go get us refills.” He stood up and waved. “Astrid and Cece just got here. Get them something too.”

I turned and saw Astrid approaching our table.

She was wearing a leather jacket and jeans from my store, and I smiled.

I loved helping people look and feel their best. That little frizzle of satisfaction never went away.

Astrid came to Havenport feeling defeated and rocking some very sad business suits.

I hooked her up, and now her outside matched her inside, fierce and beautiful.

She slid in next to me and Cece took the seat next to Dante. “What are we talking about?” she asked.

“Getting Nora some dates,” Dante shouted.

“Oh yes. We need to work on that.”

I glared at Astrid. “You too? You know better than most that men are trash.”

“Stop.” She held up her hand. “Some men are trash, but there are great ones out there too.” Her eyes twinkled, and I knew she was having dirty thoughts about her boyfriend, growly fisherman Declan Quinn. I was surprised he wasn’t here guarding her like a feral dog.

“As I said, most men are just looking for hookups, and I’m over that. And I honestly can’t be bothered to do all that work for some subpar dick.”

I was hoping to change the subject. Unfortunately, it was pile on Nora night as everyone continued to grill me about my pitiful dating life.

“And don’t get me started on dick pics.”

Emily had arrived and grimaced. “Dick pics are a crime against humanity. Like nothing kills a lady boner faster than an unsolicited dick pic.”

I offered her a fist bump. “Truth. I don’t want dick pics.

I don’t know anyone who wants to pick up their phone and just see some underwhelming half-flaccid dick on it.

No one asked to see your junk. Keep it locked up, please.

And men miss the point; I don’t want a dick pic.

You want to impress me? Send me a video of you reading aloud so I know you’re not a complete dumbass. ”

They laughed as Christian returned with our drinks, leaning down to kiss Astrid and Cece on the cheeks.

“Oh God, she’s getting on a roll,” he said. “Get ready for a Nora rant.”

“Stop,” I chided. “I’m just explaining why I’m not going to get on some dating apps and waste my precious time. Just because you are all coupled up doesn’t mean I have to be. My life is awesome.”

“Correct,” Astrid said, clinking my glass. “But I love you and I know you. You are never satisfied with awesome; you want more. And I want that for you, whatever it is.”

“Aww, you are such good friends.” I loved my girls.

“Are you sure you’re not into girls?” Dante asked.

“I wish! While women are otherworldly goddesses and I worship them, I sadly still desire the peen.”

“That’s a shame.”

“You’re telling me. So right now I’m working on cultivating my BSE.”

“What?” Cece asked, finally looking up from her phone where I knew she was texting Liam.

“Big spinster energy.”

They looked confused. I patted Emily’s hand. “It means that not only am I destined for the spinster life, but I am taking it to the next level.”

“So you’re leveling up your spinsterhood?” Christian asked.

“Precisely. I bought a house and maybe next it will be a couple of cats, or one of those weird talking birds that live for like a hundred years. We’ll see how things go.

Maybe I’ll write a book about being the best goddamn spinster you can be and then go on a worldwide book tour preaching the gospel of a man-free life.

” I shrug and take another sip of my wine.

“Speaking of the house, how are things going?” Christian asked, raising an eyebrow. The last thing I wanted to do was go down that road with him. It was hard enough convincing him when he showed up last week that I could live there safely.

On the plus side, it seemed that my little fire situation was not public knowledge yet. So that was a relief. Clearly I had not lost my touch. Everyone looked at me expectantly for some follow-up. But I was saved by people approaching our table.

I looked up and saw Trent, a mutual friend, and Callum Quinn. He shook Christian’s hand and asked him some questions about a deal they were working on together. I still wasn’t totally sure what my brother did with all his Wall Street money, but I know Callum helped him stay rich or get richer.

I casually turned around to say hello to Trent and found myself face to face with Luke Kim. Crap. I came out tonight to have some fun and relax, not deal with tricky feelings for my neighbor.

“Nora,” he said, winking at me.

“Luke,” I replied tersely, staring into my wine glass.

“Lucas, pull up a chair and join us,” Dante shouted, waving him over. Dante loved him, mainly because he was a customer at his salon and stupidly handsome. I threw a glare at Dante, but unlike my brothers and most men on earth, he was immune to my eye daggers.

Luke pulled up a chair at the end of the booth and chatted pleasantly with everyone, asking Emily about her kids and Dante about the salon business.

I rolled my eyes and Astrid elbowed me. “Let’s dance.”

She led me over to the makeshift dance floor where we started bouncing around to a Paramore song. She twirled me and took a sip of her drink.

“What’s up with you tonight?” she asked. Astrid was sneakily perceptive and usually saw through my bullshit. Unlike most people in town, it was pretty hard to fool her.

I didn’t want to unload my financial and real estate woes tonight, so I just shrugged. “You know I hate Luke Kim. He just rubs me the wrong way.”

She threw her head back to the music and laughed. “Maybe you’re just afraid he will rub you the right way.”

“Gross,” I shrieked.

She raised her eyebrows. “You walked right into that.”

The song switched to “Like a Prayer” and all semblance of conversation was lost as Emily and Dante ran to the dance floor where we busted out our best nineties Madonna moves. After a few songs, I was sweaty and smiling and relaxed enough to let my eyes wander over to Luke.

He was wearing jeans that fit him like a second skin—loose in the right spots and tight in even better spots. I hated the fact that I was staring at him, but as a fashion professional, I could appreciate fine tailoring. They were probably custom.

I looked up and saw him staring at me with a funny look on his face. Did he think I was staring at his package? Ugh, I wanted to throw up at the spot. I headed to the bar, hoping to put some distance between us.

I slid up to the bar and said hello to Fran, the bartender who was busy making a complicated cocktail, and checked my phone. I just needed a minute away from my prying friends and the smug, handsome face of Luke Kim.

I gestured to Fran and waited for her to refill my glass, but before I could get more delicious wine, my personal space was invaded quite abruptly.

“Excuse me,” I said, the annoyance dripping from my voice.

“Hey, sexy.”

I looked at the random man in front me. Probably an out-of-towner since I didn’t recognize him. He looked to be in his early forties with a ruddy face and thinning hair. I don’t know why he was putting his arm around me, but I did not like it. I took a step back, putting some distance between us.

“I gave you a compliment,” he spat drunkenly in my face. “A girl like you should be more grateful for the attention of a man.” He attempted to put his arm around me again, and I pushed him back.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, wishing I had magical powers to make this aggressive drunk guy disappear. Alas, the only magical powers I possessed were my words. So I chose them carefully.

“Gratitude implies that you gave me something of value. And I assure you, your attention is of no value to me. Please leave me alone, and let me enjoy my evening.”

“You are a stuck-up bitch,” he sneered. His breath reeked of cheap whiskey and cigarettes, and I really wanted to be rid of him.

“Thanks for the feedback,” I said cheerily. And this seemed to agitate him more.

“Cunt,” he shouted, grabbing my arm forcefully.

Before I could respond, he was slammed against the bar. Dante pulled me out of the way as I watched Luke Kim pin this drunk clown. “You’re an asshole,” he said in his deep gravelly voice. “Get out of this bar before I call the cops.”

Next thing I knew, Trent and Christian were escorting the guy out of the bar.

“You okay?” Dante asked.

I nodded. I was used to it. Men seemed to see my appearance as some kind of invitation to be gross and invasive all the time.

Because I wore makeup and heels and had big boobs, I was a whore who relished unwanted attention.

I didn’t have the time or the inclination to unpack that box of patriarchal bullshit tonight.

“Okay, good.” He smoothed my hair. “Now be nice to Luke; he did defend your honor.”

He slipped back to the booth with Christian, leaving me standing there with Luke. The entire bar, including all my friends, were staring at us, and I cursed my stupid brother for making me come out to meet him for a drink. I should be at home laying hardwood floor or polishing up my business plan.

Luke put his hand on my arm, and my temper flared. “You didn’t have to defend me. I can handle a random drunk dude.”

“Of course you can. But I have a hair trigger when I see guys like that.” He shrugged. “I can’t tolerate men who think it’s okay to put their hands on women without consent. Sorry.”

I looked at him, wondering—not for the first time—what lay beneath the surface of his cool exterior.

Luke Kim seemed like the kind of guy for whom everything was easy.

He was handsome, successful, and widely believed to be a genius.

But the anger in his eyes made me think there was a lot more going on.

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“I hope you’re not upset about what he said.”

“That Cro-Magnon? Not at all. I’m so used to it. If I had a nickel for every time some inadequate man called me a bitch or a cunt or a whore, I’d be…well, I’d probably be richer than you.”

“I hate that,” he spat.

“Why?” I couldn’t imagine why he cared.

“Because I’m the only one who can insult you and push your buttons.” He was dangerously close now, and I couldn’t help but enjoy his masculine smell and the warmth of his body. “And you don’t deserve that shit. No one does.”

“Stop, Luke. You are getting dangerously close to being kind.”

He shook his head at me. “Okay, okay. I get it. You look nice, by the way. That’s a nice…ah…dress.” He gestured to the black dress I was wearing.

I smiled. I fell in love with this dress. It made me feel like Stevie Nicks. “Thanks. I bought it cause it felt kind of witchy.”

“Then your outfit matches your personality,” he quipped.

I glared at him and then smiled. The balance in our relationship had been restored. “That’s more like it, Luke. Don’t go soft on me.”

I grabbed my refill and headed back to our booth. Luke grabbed my arm and pulled me close.

“Trust me,” he whispered into my ear. I had to suppress the full body shiver. He was so close I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin. “I would never go soft on you, Fireball.”