Cruel Fortune

by K. A. Linde

  But now, standing here with him, all my doubts vanished.

  He scooped me up into a hug. “I’m so glad you decided to move. The last three weeks have been torture.”

  “I’m glad I moved, too,” I said with a laugh. I stepped back and gestured for him to enter. “Come on in. It’s small, but I’m in love.”

  He strode inside and then held up the bottle of champagne. “Housewarming gift.”

  “Oh, wow. Thank you.” I stared down at the yellow label with wide eyes before putting it in the empty refrigerator. It was much fancier than the cheap stuff Amy and I celebrated with. “I know what I’m having for dinner now.”

  He chuckled as he dropped his black peacoat onto the sofa. “So, this is the place.”

  “Yep,” I said, suddenly seeing the tiny place through his eyes. “I know it’s not much, but…”

  “Hey.” He held up his hand. “You don’t have to diminish it for me. I was the one who helped you find it, after all. And it’s exactly what you wanted, right?”

  I nodded. Because it was the exact apartment I’d been looking for. I’d been amazed when Lewis had stumbled across it. “Absolutely. I mean, look at this exposed brick.” I gestured to the living room wall. “And…and…I live in it all alone. So, no roommates or anything.”

  “Pretty spectacular for your first New York City apartment. I think most people have a minimum of five roommates. I had four.”

  “What? No way. You’re a Warren.”

  “So are my parents and two younger sisters.”

  I chuckled. “I wasn’t counting Charlotte and Etta.”

  “That means that you clearly haven’t lived with them. They’re hellions.”

  “You weren’t much better at that age, were you?”

  “Oh, worse, much worse,” he said with a wink.

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  I could only guess based on what I knew of Penn’s past. I slightly shriveled inwardly at that thought. When I forgot that Penn and Lewis were best friends, it was much easier to be in his presence.

  I turned away from Lewis to shrug my jacket on. I didn’t want to ruin our night. We’d both been looking forward to it.

  My face was carefully blank as I faced him once more. “Well, what do you say we get out of here?”

  Lewis nodded, but I didn’t think that he had missed my uncomfortable moment. He pulled his jacket back on, and then we took the stairs down to the ground level. I shuddered at the frigid temperature. So much colder than it had been in Charleston this morning. I tugged gloves on, preparing for the walk.

  But Lewis gestured to a black Mercedes idling in front of my building. “My driver is waiting.”

  “Oh, you have a driver.”

  He nodded as he opened the back door. “How do you think we got back to your hotel when you were here for your book?”

  “You know…I was drunk enough not to have given it a thought.”

  “I remember that very clearly.”

  A blush tinged my cheeks as I slid into the backseat. I’d been rather forward the last time we were alone in the back of his Mercedes. It was embarrassing, considering how sober I was now.

  And just reminded me of how divergent our lives were. Of course Lewis had a driver. He enjoyed the life that he had grown up in and had no moral objections to his upbringing. I needed to silence the voice in my head that said that was a problem. He wasn’t Penn. And I didn’t want Penn.

  “Where are we going?” I asked Lewis once he was inside and the car had started to move.

  “It’s a surprise. I think you’ll like it.”

  “I like surprises,” I admitted.

  “Good. I plan to have a lot of them.” He angled his full attention to me. “Tell me about the drive up here. I still can’t believe you drove alone.”

  “Oh, it was great actually. I love road trips. Amy and I went on one for three weeks one summer, all the way to LA. This was nothing compared to that. It’s the basis for one of my books.”

  He contemplatively scrunched his brows together. “Have you submitted that one?”

  I shook my head. “No, I was writing it before Bet on It, and I just haven’t picked it back up.”

  “How can you when you’ve been so busy with the new book? Do you have a title for it yet?”

  “I’m leaning toward It’s a Matter of Opinion. Because it’s all about never really knowing the truth and getting every side of the tale, except what really happened.”

  “I like it.” He slid a little bit closer to me until our shoulders were touching. A shiver ran through my body. “So…when do I get to read it?”

  I laughed. “Never!”

  “Natalie! Come on. I’m your biggest fan.”

  “That sounds so weird,” I told him, covering my face. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “It means, you’re a brilliant writer, and I need more of your books in my life. Send it to me. Please, I’m dying to read it.”

  “No way. No one reads my books before they’re done, except my agent and editor. I’ve never let anyone look at them ahead of time. I think I’d break out in hives if I knew you were reading it.”

  “It cannot be that bad.”

  “It is. I swear. Amy snuck a chapter once, and I nearly vomited on her.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I think that’s all in your head.”

  “Maybe, but what if I never write another word on it? Then, you’ll have a half-baked idea of my writing in your head.”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Natalie, that’s not even possible.”

  “Oh, it’s totally possible. But, hopefully, not with this book since I already told my agent about it and she’s already told Gillian about it and I moved to New York to finish and sell the damn thing.”

  “It’ll all work out,” he assured me. “No one at Warren wants your career to continue successfully more than I do. But I also want to think you moved here for more than one reason.”

  “Oh?” I whispered.

  The tension crackled between us.

  His hand slid across my lap, reaching for my fingers and lacing them together. His thumb gently stroked up and down as if he were learning the feel of me. And, while my mind was completely occupied by the feel of his hand in my own—the long fingers and broad palm and the amazing softness of that hand—my eyes were locked on his.

  “I like to think that you’re here because of me. That I helped you find your way back to writing while you were here. That I can help you even more now that you’re in my city.” He raised our locked hands to his lips and placed a soft kiss on my hand. “That okay with you?”

  I nodded, momentarily speechless. Lewis had helped me be able to write again. And so had this city. Being in the city and close to him seemed like a perk to it all. If not the exact reason I had moved.

  “Here we are, sir,” the driver said from the front seat.

  Lewis winked at me and then helped me out of the car. I gasped at the sight before me. I’d heard about it, seen it on television, and imagined what it would look like basically all my life. But seeing the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree all lit up was even more amazing than I could have imagined.

  Last year, I had left at the beginning of November before the tree was put up. It might make me the epitome of a tourist, but I was totally enamored by it.

  “Oh my god,” I gushed. “It’s so huge!”

  Lewis laughed and guided me forward. “I actually think it was bigger last year.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “I bet you’re the kind of person who says that every year.”

  His smirk said that I was right. “Maybe.”

  “We have to get a picture,” I insisted.

  “Obviously.”

  We spent a couple of minutes trying to find the best angle and finding someone who would snap the shot for us. Then, I made Lewis take a few shots for me to post on my Olivia Davies page. Back-of-the-head shots for anonymity and all that. Then, I oohed and aahed over the
massive tree some more before Lewis guided me to the ice skating rink below.

  It wasn’t too packed since it was a Thursday night, and the crowds hadn’t shown up yet. But the line still wrapped around the side of the rink. It had to be at least an hour wait. I wanted to do it, but I didn’t know if I wanted to stand out in the cold that long.

  “Are you sure? I mean…the line is pretty long,” I told him.

  He grinned mischievously as if he had something up his sleeve. I followed him past the enormous line and straight to the front.

  “Ah, yes, Mr. Warren. Lovely to have you this evening,” a man greeted us. “I have everything you requested right here.”

  I blinked and then blinked again. I knew he could pull strings. I knew he was a Warren. But, fuck…I wasn’t used to it. Money opened doors. Money closed them in my face, too. And though I was wowed by the gesture, a part of me wished he had made us wait in the line.

  I ignored the irritated glances from the people who had been waiting the last hour and followed behind Lewis. We put on skates, which were clearly not the dinky ones everyone else was wearing, and then hobbled to the rink.

  “Where did you get these skates?” I asked. “And how did you know my size?”

  He stepped onto the ice and held his hand out to me. “I guessed.”

  “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure.” I arched an eyebrow at him.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  I stared at him, waiting for the answer.

  “You wore Katherine’s shoes last year. I know her size. I deduced from there.”

  Katherine. My blood ran cold at her name. That was someone I absolutely did not want to see or think about.

  “Come on, Nat,” he said softly as if he could read what her name had done to me.

  I took his hand because I had to. I was a terrible skater. And Lewis quickly figured that out. He chuckled as he skated circles around me.

  “I prefer a swimming pool,” I muttered as I slowly got the hang of it.

  “Considering you swam in college, I would think so.”

  “For real,” I muttered. “Water should be wet, not solid.”

  He chuckled and took my hands to help me around the rink.

  We circled the ice a couple of times until I felt like I wasn’t going to fall over at any second. Lewis was clearly an accomplished skater. Half the time, he skated backward and held my hands so that I was more stable. It was adorable in that can’t-get-her-legs-under-her way.

  “You’re getting a lot better,” he insisted.

  I just laughed at him. “Sure.”

  He tugged me closer and skated us to the side of the rink, away from the majority of the other people. It was amazing how he was able to navigate it all backward when I could barely move forward.

  “How did you learn to skate like that?”

  “My family went to Central Park all the time,” he told me. Then he smiled as if he was remembering a specific memory. “When Charlotte was young, maybe six, she took figure-skating lessons. She darted between activities so often that I thought it would be helpful if I took the classes with her to keep her motivated. I was sixteen or seventeen and easily the best in the class.”

  “Oh my god, adorable,” I said. I covered my mouth as I imagined him in a beginner figure-skating class.

  “Yeah. They still tease me about it.”

  I couldn’t help it. I started giggling. It was impossible not to. This was the part of Lewis that made me forget everything else.

  “I love to see that smile,” he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  My stomach fluttered. Heat spread through my core as my heartbeat ratcheted up. His hand slipped under my jacket, touching bare skin. Shivers traveled down my spine, and I tilted my head up to look at him. He skated me forward against his chest until I was so near that I could feel his breath warm my cheek.

  On reflex, I put an arm around his neck. Our eyes locked, asking and giving permission. The moment heating us despite the temperatures.

  Then he leaned down and brought our lips together in a searing kiss that spoke of how much he had missed me the last couple of weeks. Dear god, the man could kiss. His lips were pouty and soft and warm. His tongue an adventure. His fingers dug into flesh.

  A groan escaped my mouth, and he smiled against my lips. A smile that said he knew exactly what he was doing and how he was doing it.

  “I like that sound,” he murmured against my lips.

  “Mmm,” I acknowledged.

  A whistle came in our direction, and we broke apart with a laugh as we realized that people had been catcalling our kiss.

  “Got a little carried away,” I said.

  Then, he dipped down and captured my lips one more time. “Can’t get enough of that.”

  I blushed at his comment and dipped my chin.

  But Lewis tilted my chin back up to meet his chocolate gaze. “I know that you just got here, Nat, but I want to see more of you. I want more. I want you.”

  My throat tightened. I did want to see more of Lewis. I liked being around him. God, I’d loved our conversations the last couple of weeks and this…date and, god, that kiss. But something held my tongue like peanut butter sticking to the roof of my mouth.

  His eyes darted across my face as if waiting for an answer. “You want that, too,” he insisted.

  “I do,” I got out finally, hesitantly.

  “But?”

  I shook my head and glanced away. I really didn’t want to talk about this. The reason I was cautious had already moved on. Why was I torturing myself by bringing it up?

  “It’s…I don’t know…complicated.”

  His thumb stroked my jawline and turned my chin to make me look back at him. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Talk to me.”

  “It’s Penn,” I whispered.

  Lewis sighed. “Ah. Competing with Penn Kensington. What else is new?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. Not at all. There’s nothing between me and Penn anymore. But he’s your best friend.”

  “He is. He’s moved on. Why shouldn’t you? After how he treated you, you should find someone who will treat you like a goddess. And I have every intention of doing just that, Natalie, if you’ll let me.”

  “I believe you, but it’s more than just you. I don’t know if I’m ready to fake it till I make it on the Upper East Side. I moved back to Charleston to get away from it.”

  “Not everything is galas and club openings. We could start small and easy. We don’t have to do anything overwhelming. You had fun at Tilted Glass with me and Jane.”

  I nodded. “I did.”

  “I don’t care what we do together. I just want to see you, and I want you to be happy. Everything else is secondary.”

  Something in his words struck a chord with me. I’d enjoyed myself with him and Jane. I didn’t have to suddenly start a charity or become a socialite or pander to idiots. I could just be me. Go on dates with the guy who claimed to want to worship me and hang out with my friend who loved dirty martinis and just be me. While those other things happened to coincide with the Upper East Side. I could have one foot in each world.

  “All right. Let’s take the social aspect slow. I’d like that.” I stared up at him, raw with emotion. “And…I want this.”

  He smiled brightly as if he’d won a grand prize and then pulled me into another fierce kiss.

  Penn

  14

  I passed through security at City Hall and moved like a thunderstorm through the hallways. It had taken me nearly an hour to cut through traffic from Columbia through downtown before ending up in my mother’s building. An hour to stew over that goddamn picture on Crew.

  Thankfully, my mother was out for the day. Running into her, even in her own domain, would have been catastrophic for the both of us. When my temper ran hot, it was best to stay out of the way until it blew over. And my mother was like gasoline to my flames.

  “Mr. Kensington,” a wom
an chirped in recognition at my approach. “Lark is with someone right now. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  “I’ll tell her myself.”

  Then, I walked right past her desk and into Lark’s office. I recognized the man seated there on sight. Thomas Prichard. An excellent choice when I felt like running my fist into someone’s face. Especially since the person I really wanted to hit happened to be my best friend.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” I demanded.

  Thomas had both of his hands on Lark’s desk and was leaning over her as if he could smother her existence even more than he already had. When he heard my voice, he whirled around to face me.

  “Oh, look, a Kensington to the rescue.”

  “Thomas, stop,” Lark said in that weak voice that I hated from her. She was the strongest of us all, except when it came to him.

  “We were just having a nice chat,” Thomas said. “No need to get your panties in a twist.”

  “I think it would be best if you left Lark alone,” I said, low and menacing. “You might think you’re untouchable, but you’re not.”

  Thomas laughed and then winked at Lark. “Think about it. It could work.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she said absentmindedly. “You should go.”

  “See you later, baby.”

  It took every ounce of my willpower not to ruin his face right then and there. The smirk he shot me as he walked out of Lark’s office did nothing to help. I shoved the door shut behind me.

  “What the hell, Lark? Why are you seeing him? You broke up weeks ago!”

  “I know. I know.” She leaned back in her desk and covered her eyes with her hands. Her dark red hair fanned out around her face, and she managed to look even smaller than normal. “He just…you know what? I don’t even want to talk about him.” She brushed her hair back and met me with her solid green gaze. “So…you saw the picture?”

  “Of course I saw the fucking picture.”

  It was all over fucking Crew. Lewis and Natalie together in front of the Rockefeller Tree. He had his arm around her, and she was leaning into him with a wide, sincere smile on her face.

  “Why didn’t you send it to me?”