When was the last time I had fun on my own?
I’m not talking about going out with Persy and having a few drinks or too many where I end up puking. When I go out on dates, things never go past the one-night stand—if they go anywhere. Being a kick-ass lawyer isn’t fulfilling anymore. Am I happy?
Where do I swipe right for myself?
I should make a list of the things I need to do for myself. Do I even have time to do anything about my current situation? I have student loans, a mortgage, and the option to become a junior partner within the next couple of years. I can’t throw away my hard work because I feel unfulfilled. Can I?
We adjourn the meeting and though I grin at my sister and celebrate our big win, I’m depressed as fuck. I’m lucky my sister is too busy thinking about Langford Chadwick, her love interest. She sees me as someone who breezes through life effortlessly. She swears I always have a plan and my to-do list is full of checks because it’s all done. But everything I do focuses on work, financial goals, or my family. What about my personal life?
When was the last time I let my hair loose and just lived for the moment?
Never.
Persy and I have been silent for most of the drive. My heart sinks when we stop right in front of an old, tall building that sits across from Central Park. This is it. The moment when she finds her future and I’m kind of left behind. There’s no doubt in my mind she’s going to find her happiness. What’s going to happen to me afterward?
I might stay stuck in my current life because there won’t be anyone to reach out to when I need help. I want to tell her, “Yo, I’m drowning. Is there any way that you can throw me a life jacket before you set sail and leave me behind?”
That’s not what older sisters do. We smile reassuringly and squeeze our little sister’s hand as she’s about to embark on a new adventure.
The building is gorgeous. The interior exudes an air of elegance. The doorman walks us to the elevator and even pushes the top floor for us. When the doors open I almost gasp at the breathtaking view of New York. I want to run toward the floor to ceiling windows so I can see the entire city from the top.
A man in his mid-fifties wearing a dark suit looks at us and nods politely. “Ms. Persephone, Mr. Chadwick is waiting for you in the library. If you follow the hallway to your left, you’ll see the French doors immediately. Ms. Nyx, if you want to follow me, I’ll take you to your room.”
“I have a room.” I glance at Persy and give her a mischievous smile. “Something tells me you are going to share a room.”
“Doubtful,” she disagrees.
“I’m Demetri,” the guy introduces himself as we walk toward the staircase. “I manage the household for Mr. Chadwick. If you need anything, please let me know. Do you have any preferences on food, intolerances, or…? I need the information so I can order.”
“No, I’m not allergic to anything, and I will eat pretty much everything,” I state. “Except insects. Crickets are crunchy but the aftertaste is…not my favorite.”
He arches an eyebrow and shakes his head, “I’m sure we can accommodate your preferences, Ms. Nyx. This is your room. The bathroom is to your left and the closet to your right. Your luggage is already on top of the bench. If you require a personal shopper, let me know and I’ll have someone from Nordstrom or Neiman Marcus come over to measure you and show you a few options.”
I blink a couple of times, startled by his offer. This is better than a trip to Disney World and I bet more expensive. The last time I went to those stores I left half of my savings in the hands of the evil personal shopper who kept handing me beautiful clothing.
“After you freshen up, come downstairs so I can show you the house,” he states. “Mr. Chadwick will be busy with Ms. Persephone for the remainder of the day. He wants you to be comfortable.”
“Thank you,” I state and stare at him as he leaves, closing the door behind him.
I change into a pair of jeans and my black halter top. I brush my hair, wash my face, and put my hair back into a bun. When I reach the main floor, a honey color, fluffy dog runs my way rubbing his head against my leg. I pet him behind his ears.
“Well, hello there,” I greet him.
“Brock, don’t upset our guests,” Demetri orders and gives me an apologetic smile. “He’s rambunctious, and his owner doesn’t believe in training him properly. No matter how much time I spend teaching him proper decorum, when Mr. Nathaniel is around, he lets him do as he wants.”
“He’s not upsetting me. On the contrary, I love animals,” I explain. “You’re just a happy pup, aren’t you?”
“Woof!”
Demetri rolls his eyes but doesn’t say a word. He shows me the terrace, teaches me how to turn on the fire pit in case I need it later in the evening. He gives me a tour of the kitchen and the library, which is now empty. I wonder where my sister is, but I’m pretty sure I know what she’s doing.
When I spot Brock’s leash I ask, “Is it okay if I walk him?”
Brock wags his tail and jumps around me.
“We prefer not to say that word in front of him. He takes his walks seriously,” he warns me. “If you wish to take him out, you might want to stay on this side of the park. The bags to clean after him are attached to the leash handle. We’ll have dinner ready for you around six,” he states.
“Don’t worry about dinner,” I say. “This is New York. I’m pretty sure there are plenty of places where I can find something to eat while we stroll around the city.”
With that, I make my way toward the elevator. When we step inside, I say, “Maybe you’re what I need, a dog. Do you think Mr. Stuffy will mind if I kidnap you?”
He barks at me and wags his tail, and I wonder if he’s just as tired as I am of following rules and being just good enough for everyone.
Four
Nate
Around nine o’clock at night, I arrive at the penthouse. This is why I hate traveling from the west coast to the east coast on weekdays. I lose about six hours and it leaves me restless. If my brother wasn’t preoccupied with his new girlfriend, I would persuade him to go out with me. We could have dinner or just hang out on the terrace with a couple of beers.
My other option is to head to a bar and just pick up a chick, but it’s Tuesday and I’m sure the selection of women is slim. Also, I’m over having one-night stands. As I said before, I’m too old for that nonsense. What I need is a fuck buddy. Someone who understands and shares my goals. All fun, zero emotions, and no messy endings.
“Mr. Chadwick,” Demetri greets me. “I was about to leave for the day. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, I’m just going to prepare a sandwich and go to the library to work. Where is Brock?”
“He’s on the terrace with Ms. Nyx,” he announces.
“Ms. Nyx?” I ask and smirk.
I forgot the guest Ford brought along with his girlfriend. I saw her briefly and from afar a few weeks ago at the Children’s Hospital in Denver while my brother and I were dropping off a donation. From what I saw, she’s gorgeous in an elegant, conservative, yet sexy way.
“Your brother is in his room with Ms. Persy. However, he left you an important message,” he states. He pulls out a cue card and sighs. “Stay the fuck away from her.”
“He made you write it?” I can’t contain the laughter.
“No. He wrote it himself, in case I wanted to change the wording,” he asserts.
“Of course, he did. I’ll make sure to give zero fucks about it,” I respond almost snicker. “Have a good night.”
“But sir, Mr. Chadwick—”
“Should know better than to try to forbid me from making acquaintances,” I state and make my way to the kitchen where I prepare a platter with cheeses, antipasto, and some grapes. I grab a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Once I place everything on a tray, I make my way to the terrace. Nyx Brassard sits on one of the patio couches across from the fire pit, watching the horizon. She’s
a beauty. I’ve seen her picture a few times. Most of them are of her next to her sister, Persy. My least favorite is her mug shot posted on the website of Bryant, LLP, the firm she’s worked for since she graduated from college.
Fuck, I sound like a stalker, but it’s not her I’ve been investigating; it’s her sister. She just happens to be around every time I pull information about Persephone Brassard. By now, I can tell them apart. Nyx’s nose is slimmer, her eyes bigger, and her eyelashes longer and thicker. She doesn’t smile as often. Her hair is almost always pulled into an elegant knot. Don’t get me wrong, she looks beautiful, but she looks way hotter when her wavy hair is down, gracing her bare shoulders.
Never have I thought I’d have the chance to be close to her. Not that I’ve been fantasizing about her. That’d be creepy, wouldn’t it?
You know what would be creepier? If you make a move and she ends up being part of the family.
That’s a true fact, just like the fact that if I do it, it’ll piss the fuck out of Ford, and we live to prank one another. Would this be going too far?
Explore the possibilities, I advise myself. There’s nothing wrong with trying, is there?
When I step closer, I notice Brock is on her lap. The asshole is already cozying up to her. There’s no doubt that he’s my dog.
“Brock, are you familiar enough with the lady to be sharing this lovely night with her?”
The damn mutt doesn’t care. He stays where he’s at and even makes that whiny noise he does when I’m petting him at night.
She turns around and smiles at me. “You must be Nate. I’m Nyx. We’ve spoken a few times over the phone.”
“Indeed, you are. I could never forget such a lovely voice,” I state, placing the platter I hold on the coffee table and reaching out to grab her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
I lift her delicate hand guiding it to my mouth so I can kiss it.
“Enchanté,” I whisper.
The moment my lips touch her skin, there’s an electrical surge that zaps me, stopping my heart, even my breathing.
“Pleasure,” she whispers, and her raspy, sweet like honey voice restarts my entire body.
Fuck if this isn’t frightening and exhilarating. I think that cue card should be set on fire because we are about to get to know each other on so many levels she won’t be able to walk by tomorrow night.
“Would you like some wine, cheese, or we can get a table for two at Atla?” I offer. “I believe we could make this evening a lot more…interesting.”
She laughs pulling her hand away from my grasp. “Smooth. Demetri warned me about you.”
“Of course, he did,” I groan.
Showing her a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon I brought from my last trip to Paris I ask, “Wine?”
“Wine would be lovely, thank you.”
“I’d like to point out that not everything D says is true.”
“Well, he mentioned that you spoil your dog. Which is bad when he’s trying to educate him to be a civilized dog,” she states. “I’m pretty sure he’d send him to the equivalent of dog boarding school and away from you if that was a choice. You’re obviously a terrible influence on this honorable canine.”
I laugh as I uncork the bottle of wine. She tries not to join me and ends up coughing.
“And you said that with a straight face. I’m impressed,” I declare, pouring us some wine and handing her a glass. “You must be great at playing poker.”
“It’s part of my character. When you’re in the courtroom you have to look the part. If the jury, the opposition, or the judge get ahold of your emotions, you could lose the case. It’s almost like showing your hand during poker.”
“I assume you always win.”
“My law firm makes sure to pair newer lawyers with seasoned partners, so we can learn but also avoid any losses at all cost,” she answers. “When the senior partners think one of us is about to lose a case, they ‘add’ an extra lawyer with more experience to the team in charge. They only like winners and don’t take losses too well.”
“Time to open your own firm,” I suggest, not because she might lose a case, but because she sounds apathetic toward her employer.
It’s only a brief conversation. I don’t know her at all. However, I read people easily, and I get more information from their body language than the words that come out of their mouths.
She sighs and nods.
“You have a lovely view,” she changes the subject. Case closed. I’m not one of her people, and this isn’t up for discussion. “Demetri told me that you split your time between this place and the one in Seattle. Do you have a penthouse in some swanky neighborhood in the Pacific Northwest?”
This woman is good. I bet she’s great at getting a confession out of anyone. Even outside the courtroom, I’m sure she always gets people to talk. After all, she made Demetri spill information he’s not allowed to say. I wonder what else she got out of him.
“Nah, actually it is a house in Hunts Point, right by Lake Washington,” I inform her, not because I like people to know about my business, but because I want her to reciprocate my trust with information of her own. “Some days, I take a boat to work.”
She nods, “I’m impressed. You’re not exactly what I expected.”
I stare at her slightly shocked. This wasn’t something I anticipated.
“You had expectations?” I take off my jacket, lose my tie, and roll up my sleeves after taking off my cufflinks and placing them on the table. “Please, tell me more about them. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
She laughs, staring at my forearms. Most likely trying to read my tattoos.
“Your brother is quiet. I thought you’d be less—”
“Forward?” I ask, reaching out for the bottle of wine, topping her glass, and then taking a seat next to her.
“Well, yeah. Plus, every time we’re on the phone, you’re an—”
Her long pause and the sparkle in her eyes tell me she wants to say, asshole, but she stops abruptly because that’s not her style. I don’t know her at all, but I bet she doesn’t cuss in front of strangers.
“Nothing personal, beautiful. This past Sunday, it was a business transaction. It was never against you, and it’s always about protecting my brother, our assets, or making a better deal than the one we are offered,” I explain. “I recall you being pretty cutthroat during our negotiations.”
She laughs, “It was pretty personal. You were trying to get a big chunk of the pie on a business my brother has been trying to build from the ground that will bring revenue but also give a lot to those in need.”
“I hate to lose. I’m sure you understand the concept.” I bow my head in reverence and drink some of the wine before conceding my defeat. “Which in this case you won. Maybe we should celebrate your triumph. As I just mentioned, we can get a table at any restaurant in the city. Just say the word.”
“Thank you, but I already ate,” she says with a smile that barely touches her eyes. “You should eat something.”
I take a grape and pop it in my mouth. “Nah, I’m good with this tray. I just want to make sure you are being taken care of.”
She studies me for several beats and then asks, “What’s your story, Nathaniel Chadwick?”
“Story?”
“Grump Next Door is a loner. What are you?”
“A wicked adrenaline junky. Businessman during the day, playboy at night, a kid with expensive toys during the weekends,” I respond the way I do with almost everyone.
That was me a year or two ago. Now, I skip the playboy shit and play harder in the finance field.
“Would you like to join my playground?” I tempt her, because with that body, that mouth, and that wit, I’d like to have a good time with her.
“Isn’t it a little early to place your cards on the table?” She waves her glass of wine, drinking it all and then asking for more. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
“You don’t seem
like the kind of person who likes mind games,” I answer, pouring more wine. “All I have to offer you is unlimited dates with extreme outdoor activities, exotic locations, and out of this world sex.”
She licks her lips. “Direct. And here I thought you were a smooth operator with a lot of lip and too little game.”
“I might have been ten years ago,” I respond, stretching my hand and touching her knee. “Life is too short to pretend that I’m not attracted to you.”
She laughs and I stare at her seriously.
“Oh God, you’re serious.” She straightens herself, touching her collar bone. Those dark, beautiful eyes open wide.
“I never joke about my intentions, Nyx. There are three things you need to know about me. I never lie, I’m loyal to my friends and family, and I don’t change for anyone.”
“You forgot the part that you’re arrogant as fuck,” she states and yawns. “It’s been an informative night, but I guess it’s time for me to leave.”
“Too afraid to handle me?” I taunt her, and I can see she’s teetering on the other side of the line. One push and I can make her fall into my net. “I could go easy on you.”
“And he’s funny too, huh.” She glances at me. “The man isn’t just a pretty face. He can make women laugh.”
“But my favorite is making them scream,” I add, winking at her.
“Is that so?” her voice has a flirty tone to it. “So, it’s not all bark. You know how to bite.”
“I know my way, and I can make you reach places you can’t imagine,” I say, caressing her forearm with the back of my finger. “Unless you can’t take a man like me,” I challenge her.
“I eat guys like you for breakfast…after I make them eat me until I’m satisfied,” she states.
And now there’s no doubt this is the woman who should become my next playmate. I just have to find a way to convince her that we could be perfect.
Five
Nyx
Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds Book 2) Page 3