Three Wrong Dates: New Year Bae-Solutions

by Kelsey Green

  Her statement was valid, but I wasn’t ready to name my terms yet. Given the exhausting nature of Ivory, I’d have fun with an I owe you in my back pocket. At the very least I could use the bargain to get some peace and quiet the next couple days whenever I would need it.

  “You’re really not going to tell me?” she questioned.

  After I didn’t answer, she continued babbling, ending with her succumbing to my original statement of letting her know my terms in my own time. It appeared after hours I’d finally learned how to win an argument with Ivory. Not to speak at all.

  The quiet was dazzling. We made it through ten songs before a question crept into my head, daring me to break the silence. “Why are you coming up to camp with us?”

  She let out a deep exhale before answering, “As you saw yesterday my New Year’s Eve plans got ruined, so I figured why not spend the holiday with my girls instead. Since they offered the ride up, I took it, because it seemed the easiest option for them. Besides, I need to figure out a way to spin my absence from the most elite party, and no other event in New York City would help turn the narrative.”

  “That’s an honest answer,” I replied once she finished.

  “Why do you sound surprised?”

  “Just not how I had you pegged,” I answered truthfully. “Candid.”

  “Well considering I wrongfully dragged you into a coat closet, yelling at you for ruining a date that it turns out you had no idea about, then I’m not surprised you have the wrong impression of me.”

  “I’m still not sure my impression of you is wrong,” I replied with a light chuckle. “But your honesty is a nice revelation.”

  “Fair. Yesterday I was just uptight about the whole date set-up, though, and didn’t expect to see you there. You have to admit it was a strange coincidence? And why were you there anyways?”

  “Just meeting up with another chef,” I replied, noticing she called her date a set-up.

  “In New York City? Not to sound rude, but aren’t you just a cook at a camp for kids?”

  Her question was harsh despite the disclaimer. Although, I was used to people judging my life choices. I didn’t regret my decisions. Nor did I find it necessary to explain them or prove my successes. So, I replied with a simple, “Yes.”

  Another song passed in silence as she waited for me to elaborate. “Okay,” she said bashfully once it was clear I had no intention of continuing. “So how do you know the chef of one of the most prestigious lunch spots in New York? She’s amazing.”

  “I just met her a while back and we kept in touch.”

  I never liked being rude but also felt no obligation to give extra details to someone who had no plans of actually getting to know me. Based on the double-breasted suit wearing lunch date Ivory had yesterday, she liked a type of man I surely wasn’t. Which didn’t matter since we weren’t interested in each other as friends or anything else.

  “Evasive.”

  “Are we there yet?” Trent moaned from the backseat.

  I hadn’t even noticed his snoring had stopped given I was surprisingly captivated by Ivory and her admissions during our version of a civil conversation.

  I glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Nope, we got detoured due to road closures and couldn’t make it up the mountain.”

  “Wait, what?” Ivory interjected. “Where are we?”

  “Vermont,” I replied. “I talked to Sasha at the last rest stop and she’s expecting your call.”

  “Damn,” Trent said, sitting up. “She told me to wait until after the new year to meet with that store manager in the city, but I didn’t listen, and now I won’t make it back in time to be with my girlfriend on our first New Year’s Eve.”

  “How’d I miss us turning into Vermont when I’ve been up the whole time?” Ivory questioned, glancing out the window.

  “You’re not that observant,” I joked. “The storm we failed to avoid has already hit up the mountains, so we can’t make it to the camp tonight. I was going to mention the detour to you before, until you started complaining about every little thing.”

  “This is payback for not telling you she was coming, isn’t it?” Trent asked, gesturing at Ivory.

  It wasn’t, and the road closures had been announced along the roadtrip. Not to mention I’d spoken with our friends earlier when we stopped for gas and they suggested we detour to Vermont since the remote location the camp was located in was usually inaccessible during a storm. I would have informed Trent of the issue had he not been passed out since we left the City. However, I didn’t mind him thinking this diversion was a little payback. Hopefully it’d keep his ass from pulling this surprise passenger shit again.

  “I’m sorry, so you decided to kidnap us and take us to Vermont instead?” Ivory probed, her voice cracking slightly.

  “Dude, you can kidnap me!” Trent interrupted. “Sasha’s gonna kill my ass when she sees me.”

  “I think what you meant to say, princess, is thank you for figuring out an alternative option for us,” I replied, veering off the expressway. “We can stay at my family’s bed & breakfast for the night and drive to the camp tomorrow after the storm passes. No big deal … except maybe for you, bro, because Sasha sounded heated.”

  “I can feel my social media followers leaving with each passing second,” Ivory babbled, ignoring my last statement. “First, I lose my invitation to thee party of the year. And then, I end up spending my New Year’s Eve at a B&B in Vermont of all places with my friend’s boyfriend and a kid’s cook. Yep, my social status will plummet the moment I don’t post tonight. Everyone will wonder where I am, and I can’t possibly tell them I’m in Vermont.”

  “God forbid your royal servants don’t see you checking in every second of the day,” I muttered, earning a laugh from Trent.

  Ivory ignored that comment as she buried her face in her palms. “I’m so done,” she whined.

  All I could do was turn the radio up to drown her out.

  Chapter 3

  IVORY

  I hadn’t posted on any of my social media pages in the last twenty-four hours. No IG. No Twitter. No YouTube. No TikTok. No Reel. Not even a Facebook post.

  One day may not have been a lot for other influencers, or as essential during any other time of the year, but I was not your normal bellwether. I was also a socialite whose branding encompased living a high life other people could only dream about. The best parties, clubs, lounges, events, and shows had to be mine for the taking. If no one could gain access to it, then that was exactly the place I needed to be.

  It wasn’t just a hobby. It was a livelihood. I got compensated for appearances. Advertising high-end products. Hell, even the BMW I drove was a gift for presenting their new line.

  I’d messed up by alerting my followers that I’d been in New York City the past few days, leading them all to expect me at the New Year’s Eve Gala happening tonight. An event my date excluded me from when he caught me in the closet with Chef. Everyone would know of my fate by tomorrow morning … including my mother.

  A day in the woods with my girls was a storyline I might be able to narrate in my favor. Choosing lifelong friendship and all that mumbo jumbo over status. Nothing like the beauty of upstate New York and some choice photos to stir the elusive feel. Besides, Cadence and her fiancé, Ace, were still both highly recognizable even with them staying out of the spotlight. Cadence was an Alexander after all, and Ace owned the largest and most successful sporting goods store in the country with high international ties.

  They were the perfect twist I needed to make my lack of attendance at the gala seem like my idea. However, there was no way to flip winding up in Vermont instead. No one envied Vermont. Other than a quick ski trip on a non-holiday weekend, being in Vermont was nothing short of social suicide. Might seem dramatic to some, but it was the life and lessons I was born into and damn if it weren’t true.

  “Oh my God, I think I just lost a hundred followers,” I shrieked. “Do you think I lost a hundred
followers?”

  The dull-eyed stare Chef was giving me revealed zero sympathy as he once again turned the music louder.

  “Trent, do you think I just lost a hundred followers?” I asked, twisting the knob back down.

  “I think you lost a thousand,” he snickered.

  These men had no idea what the stakes were for me today. Trent may have come from a prestigious family himself, but if ever a black sheep existed it were him. The luck of being the disreputable one in the herd is liberty. A part of me coveted that fact. He’d know a freedom I never would.

  “We’re here,” Chef announced, cutting into my spiraling thoughts.

  “This is your family’s bed & breakfast?” I asked.

  “Sure is. It’s also a farm. Did I forget to mention that part?”

  “Intentionally left out is more like it,” I retorted, getting out of the truck. Climbing the narrow stairs to the wraparound porch, I observed the rocking chairs, which made the house resemble a postcard I’d once seen. It was essentially what I pictured the country looking like from those idealistic movies revolving around easy living. The décor inside was a mixture of vintage and modern. A little too antiquely for my taste, but the dash of chicness scattered throughout showed promise.

  “Mama K,” Trent yelled, pushing past both Chef and me.

  “Trent,” the older woman exclaimed, pulling him in for a hug. “I didn’t think I’d see you until next month. Where’s Sasha?”

  While Trent explained the ordeal and why he was a dead man walking, Chef unloaded the car. Trent was talking a mile a minute as though the woman could save him from his screw up. Regardless, she didn’t seem to mind the conversation. There was a lightness about her. She seemed interested in every word he spoke, only pulling her attention to greet Chef.

  “Jackson, I missed you, son,” she said.

  It was strange hearing someone use Chef’s real name. Since all my friends just called him Chef, I kind of forgot the rest of the world probably called him something else.

  Chef smiled softly, dropping the last of the bags and pulling his mother in for a hug. “It’s good to be home.”

  “And you must be Ivory,” she said, extending her hand.

  “I am. It’s nice to meet you Mrs …”

  Crap! I have no idea what Chef’s last name is. Hell, I hardly know his first name! Glancing from his mom to Chef, I silently urged for his help.

  “Darlin’, did you forget my last name already?” Chef asked, visibly amused by my predicament.

  More like never knew it, I thought, irritated by his bluntness.

  “Well aren’t you just as cute as a button when you’re blushing,” his mom interjected, releasing my hand. “It’s Keating, dear, but you can just call me Mary. And don’t mind Jackson, he’s a jokester just like his father, but we love them more for it.”

  “You can speak for yourself,” a voice exclaimed, coming around the corner.

  “Bro,” Chef yelled, clasping hands with the man before giving him a shove. “What are you doing here?”

  “Milly wasn’t feeling well, so I just gave her a check-up.”

  The men continued talking about some girl named Milly who sounded under the weather while Trent pulled Mary into another conversation, this time about her and Mr. Keating’s wellbeing. They all seemed genuinely happy talking about an everyday life that was simple by my standards. I didn’t realize how close I was standing to them, staring, until the gentleman Chef had been talking to broke into my thoughts.

  “I’m sorry for being rude, I’m Doctor Grant.” He extended a hand.

  Doctor Grant. The first prestige I’d heard all day. A small-town doctor wasn’t exactly the end all be all, but he was attractive. Accepting his hand, I introduced myself, throwing in a level of charm I hadn’t needed since yesterday’s lunch date.

  “Nice to meet you, Ivory. How long will you be staying here?”

  “Just through the night,” I answered. “It was an unplanned trip.”

  “With Jackson most things are,” he sighed. He seemed to know exactly what a headache Chef could be, making him my new ally. “How do you guys know each other?”

  “We don’t!” I answered more robustly than intended.

  “Don’t sound so excited,” Chef interjected.

  I shrugged as Chef explained I was a childhood friend of Cadence’s whom Grant seemed to know as well. I had no idea my bestie knew so many people outside of our original privileged circles. It had been just over a year and a half since she relocated from Chicago to upstate New York. Evidently her life and acquaintances had drastically changed in that time. Perhaps we both had changed.

  “So how about it?” Grant asked.

  I’d fully missed his question. “How about what?”

  “How about I show you around this little town of ours at around six tonight?”

  The offer caught me completely off guard given my own inner deliberations had distracted me. However, a date with a doctor, even a small-town doctor, might be just what I needed to end my year on high note.

  My cedar-themed room at the Keating Bed & Breakfast was astoundingly cute. Mary had led me upstairs to the room, while explaining all the little nuances, including the satin eye masks they handed out to every female guest. It was a luxury I hadn’t expected but was excited to accept given I’d forgotten my own sleeping mask in the rushed packing job.

  I fell asleep in the most oversized, lushest chair I’d ever seen, almost immediately after Mary left, leaving me with no time to get ready for my date once I awoke. Every girl had a shower and make-up routine for those moments when they found themselves short on time. However, my forty-minute getting ready job would now have to be cut in half if I had any hopes of making it downstairs on time.

  “Don’t you knock?” Chef said the moment I swung open my bathroom door. Would have been nice to know the bathroom was adjoined on the tour I was given. I couldn’t even focus on it though because Chef was commanding all of my attention.

  Water was still glistening off the half-naked parts of his body as the steam from the bathroom engulfed me, bringing the scent of cedarwood and sage. Although I wasn’t even a woodsy person, his smell was so addictive, I couldn’t get enough of it.

  Chef’s freshly shaven, chiseled face caught me off guard as he stepped closer to me wearing nothing but a towel. His handsome features and physique hit me square in the stomach, as though we’d never met, and I hadn’t seen him pants-less just yesterday. His incredibly defined arms begged to pick me up, knowing that despite my curves they would have no issue lifting me as though I weighed nothing at all.

  My assessment ended on his full, plump lips that dared me to see what they could do. What skill they possessed.

  “You like what you see, princess?” Chef asked, sending my shameless observations plummeting the minute he opened his mouth.

  “In some ways, yes,” I answered. “In others, hell no.”

  He let out a short chuckle, and I could swear I saw him blush before he swiftly covered it up with, “You sure about that? You’re drooling a bit.”

  I wasn’t one to beat around the bush. Chef was good-looking. His handsomeness may have been a fact I barely noticed before beneath his grizzly persona, nevertheless he was. No way in hell did that matter though. Plenty of people in this world are attractive, and my type of guy was certainly not Chef.

  “I’m positive,” I answered, closing the gap between us. “I’ve seen what you have to offer and color me unimpressed.”

  “Darlin’, if I were trying to impress you, then you would be,” he countered.

  “Doubtful. I’m not the typical farm girl who might be captivated by the likes of you.”

  A soft smile overtook his jawline. “There’s a little country in all of us. Even you, princess.”

  He obviously didn’t know me very well. He took another step closer, causing my eyes to falter, landing on his bare chest before returning to his dark chocolate eyes.

  “You still hav
e that look,” he said.

  “What look is that?” I asked.

  “The appearance of a woman who hasn’t been shown a good time in far too long and is just waiting for a man to accept the challenge. The one to come along, who can ruffle her pretty little feathers, allowing her dirtiest desires to be set free.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Perhaps by the closeness of our conversation, the slight naughtiness of his words, or possibly by his cedarwood scent tickling my senses. Either way I regained my composure quickly. I wasn’t the type of woman to back down. His dictation was after all a challenge. Therefore, leaving no air between us, I took one final step asking, “And you’re that man?”

  I preferred having the upper hand in any situation. Power was better to give than have taken. But Chef didn’t react. He didn’t speak. He simply stole all of my self-control seconds later as his lips came crashing into mine. His sweet taste mixing with the savory aromas of sage, pushing every word we’d just spoken from my mind.

  I briefly lost myself in the seductive way his strong and commanding muscles felt tightening around me. Overlooking that he was just some cook I barely knew. Ignoring the realization that I was getting wet from the water still covering his damp body. Even forgetting that I was supposed to be going on a date in less than twenty minutes with another man. No, in that instant, all I cared about was being sexed by his mouth in a way no man had ever kissed me. I could feel how much he wanted this. Wanted me. My body responded in kind.

  Breaking off our kiss, he dropped his head. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he muttered. After a few more moments he grinned, taking an unexpected step back. “That was wrong of me, especially since you’re about to go on a date with my brother, Doctor Grant Keating.”

  I was dumfounded by his words, replaying them in my head while he continued, “Maybe he’s your one.” He shook his head, seemingly involuntarily, before making his final statement, “Have fun tonight, princess. I know how hard that is for you.”