One Chance

by Best, Victoria J.

  “Have you considered Wall Street?”

  He bit his lip, tapping on his glass. “I have. I double-majored in business and accounting in college.”

  I chose my next words carefully. “You should see where you can get your foot in, since you aren’t tied down by the family business any longer.”

  Henry snorted. “Isn’t that the truth.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  He held his glass up. “Don’t worry about it. I know what you meant. It was my own idiotic fault anyway. Though Mother has been dying to get rid of me for a long time.”

  “I bet that’s not true.”

  “No. She prefers Jax. Always has. I’m used to it.” He sounded hurt.

  “Did I mention I love fashion?” I added, changing the subject yet again.

  “I’d tell you to speak to my mother about the fashion thing, but as I’m not even speaking to her right now. I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” he said with that same sexy smirk that made the dimple in his right cheek crease.

  “Well, if you two decide to get back on good terms, I’d love to pick her brain about the industry.” I didn’t tell him how much I regretted being in marketing and having a business degree. That had been my father’s doing. To appease his fears, I went along with it—as I did with everything.

  Henry reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. “Give me your number so I can contact you when Mother and I are on speaking terms again.” He winked at me, and my stomach made another somersault.

  I rattled off my phone number, then felt my phone vibrate inside my purse on my lap.

  “I sent you a text so you can save me in your contacts.” Confidence radiated off of him in waves, as if sending his number to a girl he’d just met and insisting she save it was something he did regularly.

  Maybe it was.

  I nodded as I pulled my phone from my purse and saved his number, though I was under no delusions that he would actually call me. For the first time, I really liked a guy in a way that had nothing to do with my emotional scars, and I didn’t even have the confidence to think he would call me. Figured.

  “Are we ready for dessert? An after-dinner latte or espresso?” the waiter asked.

  Liza frowned at me. I shook my head slightly to tell her not to ruin the evening.

  “No, thank you,” she said quickly before anyone else at the table could speak.

  I scowled at her but she avoided my eyes. Jackson asked to see the dessert tray but Liza cut him off again.

  “Don’t you have that event tomorrow morning? For the children’s hospital?” Liza asked me.

  I let out a heavy breath, because she was right. Even if I wanted to stay longer, I couldn’t. My dad would have my head if I didn’t show up on time tomorrow.

  “I do, actually. I completely forgot about it. I’m going to have to pass on dessert as well.” I sighed again but knew Liza was relieved.

  “How about we have our driver give you a ride back to your apartment?” Henry asked.

  I nodded with a wide smile on my face. “That would be great!”

  “We can catch a cab. Right, Nic?” Liza said, shooting daggers my way.

  I ignored her and the slight stab of guilt. She would be fine for a twenty-minute car ride uptown. What if I never saw Henry again? What if he didn’t call? This would be my only chance and I wasn’t going to waste what little time we had to talk and get to know each other. Liza stalled, not standing up right away.

  “Liza,” I hissed.

  She stood with a sigh and murder in her eyes, but I didn’t wait around to see if she was behind me. I followed Henry from the restaurant and out to the car waiting for us.

  I owed myself this time with Henry because I knew I would be back to my self-sabotaging habits tomorrow. It was only a matter of time.

  Chapter 2

  Henry

  I didn’t want her to leave. I felt kind of lame for even thinking it, especially because I had no claim to her, but Nicolette was like a ray of sunshine in my otherwise bleak existence. She was perky, optimistic, and sweet. I was a brooding asshole with a drinking problem. I had no right to try to win her over, to corrupt the beauty that poured from her very being. But here I was, sitting as close to her as I could get in the back of my cousin’s car and trying to convince her to go to a benefit dinner with me.

  “I really can’t,” she said, regret evident in her voice. “I have a standing Saturday lunch with my dad every week. He’d flip if I blew him off.”

  “Not even just once?” I begged, like the jerk I was.

  She shook her head, her waist-long blonde hair swaying from side to side. I could tell she’d considered it for a moment, but ultimately decided it was a bad idea.

  “I can’t,” she said again, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.

  I felt like an ass for even trying to persuade her because I could tell it was eating her up. She was too good—I could tell that from only having been around her for the last two hours—too good for me, especially.

  “Look, don’t worry about it. How about we do brunch on Sunday? I’ll even invite the secret twins over there.” I pointed towards Jax and Liza.

  Nicolette laughed, her amber brown eyes shining again. “Okay. I can do that.”

  I liked putting a smile on her face—I’d figured that out early in the night. A few hours in and I was already a goner.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up Sunday at around noon.”

  Nicolette nodded. “I’m excited,” she said. I admired her candor; she wasn’t afraid to admit that she wanted to spend time with me. “I just hope these two can get it together by then.” She inclined her head at Jax and Liza, and I nodded with a smirk.

  I couldn’t care less about what Jax did with women, especially since he had been engaged to Natalie Livingston five years ago and it had ended in a fiasco. He had some weird hang ups that he refused to even tell me about. Just like he ‘tried’ to stay out of my drinking, I ‘tried’ to stay out of his women issues—sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. My only hope was that for Nicolette’s sake, him and his hang ups wouldn’t interfere with what we had planned.

  The car stopped at the curb in front of Nicolette’s building. Monroe, Jackson’s driver, opened the door and I helped her out, enjoying the feel of her dainty hand inside mine. When our palms touched, a jolt of lightning shot through my whole arm. My eyes darted to hers to gauge her reaction. The look of confusion and the slight flush on her cheeks was evidence that she’d felt it, too. Now that I had her in my hand, I didn’t want to let her go.

  We walked to the door, and the doorman pulled it open, greeting her by name. She greeted him back with a gracious smile before returning her attention to me.

  “I’m going to be honest,” she began as if she hadn’t been the most honest of any of the women I had ever been on a date with. “And tell you that I really thought this blind date was going to suck. Usually when my dad fixes me up, it’s a disaster. But that was not the case tonight. I mean, technically my father did set me up with your cousin, but it doesn’t really matter. I like you, Henry, and I hope the feeling is mutual.”

  I was at a loss for words at first, unable to find something as genuine as she’d just declared to say to her. All I could think of was that I wanted to kiss her. Realizing that kissing her was my honest response, I leaned down towards her, but a commotion from behind me caught my attention. I spun around just in time to see Jax in a lip-lock with Liza and paparazzi cameras flashing.

  Before Nicolette or I could say or do anything, Liza ran towards us and disappeared inside the building. Nicolette’s eyes were filled with regret again.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go after her.”

  I nodded. “Go. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

  Nicolette nodded back. “Goodbye, Henry.”

  She turned and sprinted into the building after her friend. Irritation at the paparazzi and my cousin boiled in my chest.

  “Wh
at the fuck was that?” I turned on him, stomping back to the car as he slipped in without answering me.

  We bickered about it on the drive back to my apartment. The exchange ended with him promising to take care of it, and I knew he wasn’t just blowing smoke. If Jax said he would take care of it, it would be taken care of. I had my reservations, though, about the women and their true motives. Jackson seemed to think they were innocent in the whole thing, but his experience with conniving women wasn’t as well-rounded as mine was. Nicolette’s face popped into my head at that moment, her long, blonde hair floating down her back as her blue eyes shone, reflecting the smile on her lips.

  Maybe Jax was right and I was too paranoid. Nicolette didn’t strike me as the type to call the paparazzi.

  I had the sudden urge to call her, so I slipped my phone from my pocket as I rode the elevator up to my apartment on the eleventh floor. My fingers flew over the screen as I opened her contact, then hovered over the green call icon. What would I say to her after only leaving her thirty minutes ago? I had no idea, but the desire to hear her voice won out as I stepped from the elevator and made my way to the door of my apartment.

  “Hello?” Her sweet voice rang in my ear as I fit my key into the slot.

  I pushed into the apartment, not bothering with a light because the moon and the city lights shone through the large windows.

  “Hey, it’s Henry.” I said the words softly into the phone, feeling like I had to whisper.

  “Henry?” I could hear the surprise in her voice, but she didn’t sound put off.

  “Yeah, is it okay that I called you?” I felt awkward, something I wasn’t used to feeling with women, but something about Nicolette made me want to be a better person.

  “Of course. I’m just surprised to hear from you so soon, is all.”

  Silence filled the line and I waited—practically holding my breath—for her to say something else.

  “Are you at home?” she asked me suddenly, her voice timid.

  I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “I am.”

  “Would you take it the wrong way if I asked to come over?”

  “What way would that be?” I knew what she meant, but I wanted to hear her say it.

  She sighed, as if she were thinking of the best way to tell me what I was asking for.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m coming over for a booty call,” she said with a slight giggle.

  “I don’t expect that at all.” It was the truth.

  I had an uncontrollable desire to see her, to talk to her and be next to her. The whole thing was so strange, not only because we’d just met, but because I didn’t do relationships. I was the guy everyone’s girlfriends warned them about. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but that was how it was. Never before had a woman captivated me in the way that Nicolette had in one night. Something about it was terrifying . . . but also a relief.

  Maybe I wasn’t as fucked up as everyone thought.

  “Give me your address. I’ll catch a cab,” Nicolette said.

  I rattled off my address and we disconnected the call. Anxiety knotted my stomach, and I couldn’t seem to shake it. She was just a woman, why was I so nervous?

  Chapter 3

  Nicolette

  I was insane. I had to be losing my mind. Those were the thoughts swirling in my brain during the cab ride to Henry’s apartment. If I wasn’t going to have sex with him, then why was I going over there at eleven o’clock at night? I buried my face in my hands as the cab pulled over at the curb.

  I was here.

  I paid the cabbie and muttered, “Thank you,” before stepping out on the sidewalk.

  This was nuts—so far beyond my usual level of insanity. The crazy part was that I didn’t even want to have sex with him, not tonight, not the way I usually did with men I’d just met. I wanted to talk to him, to see his face and hear his voice. Somehow, this felt crazier than the one-night stands I was used to.

  This meant I was actually capable of wanting something more than a salve for my wounds.

  It was terrifying.

  I looked up at the building, my heart racing. I didn’t have to go in. I could turn around, run away, and never speak to him again. But what would that solve? Where would that leave me?

  In the same bottomless pit of despair I always found myself in, picking up random men to have sex with because I was afraid of life.

  No, I wouldn’t leave. I would go into this building, I would talk to Henry, and I would try to be a normal person for a change. A normal person who didn’t use sex as a coping mechanism for depression. Henry didn’t have to know anything about it, and I could pretend like none of it ever happened. Just as I always did.

  Sighing, I walked into the building, the doorman giving me a curt nod as he held the door open for me. There was a singular elevator to my left. I stabbed the button and stepped back to wait for the doors to open. My heart was still pounding, like a bird trying to escape a cage. I took a deep breath to relieve my jittery nerves. It made no sense why I was so anxious about this, beyond that it was unusual for me. I exhaled shakily as I stepped onto the waiting elevator. My hands tingled with nerves and I shook them out as the elevator opened on the eleventh floor.

  By the time I reached the end of the hall, I was a mess. I almost turned around again to walk away. Almost abandoned the whole thing. But then the door to Henry’s apartment flew open, making me start and jump back. There was no going back now.

  “Hey,” he said, his eyes roaming from my face down the length of my body.

  I had changed out of the dress I’d worn on the date into something comfortable but stylish: skinny jeggings, an oversized maroon sweater and low-heeled cognac mules. Henry had changed into a pair of baggy, black Abercrombie sweatpants and a gray t-shirt that hugged his toned biceps and showed off the ridged outline of his abs. I hadn’t come here for sex, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t attracted to him.

  Henry smirked at me. “You want to come in or should we stand in the hallway all night?”

  I chuckled, some of the tense awkwardness evaporating. He stepped back and I followed him in, stopping in the dimly lit foyer, which was really just a step up from the living room. I glanced around while I waited for Henry to join me. The apartment wasn’t huge, but it didn’t look cheap. The view of all of uptown Manhattan greeted me through the large windows on the opposite wall. It was furnished minimally, with a dark gray modern sofa, a mahogany coffee table and a fireplace on the wall to the right where a fire was blazing. The only light in the room came from the fireplace and the windows. I was entranced for a moment with how cozy and beautiful it looked.

  “You can have a seat.” Henry motioned towards the couch before walking towards it.

  I nodded, though he couldn’t see me because his back was to me as I followed him into the living room. Slipping my small cross-body purse off, I perched on the edge of the couch, setting my purse down on the floor.

  “Would you like a drink?” Henry asked.

  I nodded. Maybe alcohol would take the edge off my nerves. Henry walked past me, and I turned to watch him walk through a small dining room behind me and into the kitchen. He had a swagger, even now when no one was around and he was wearing sweats, which made him seem like the most confident man in the room. It was what I’d noticed about him first when we first met in the restaurant. It was what had attracted me to him beyond his aristocratic good looks.

  Moments later he returned, carrying two glasses. I took the one he handed to me, sipping it tentatively.

  He shrugged. “It’s whiskey, I don’t really have wine or anything.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not really much of a drinker anyway.” I took another small sip, the amber liquid burning a little as it traveled down my throat, before setting the glass on the coffee table.

  “Well that’s fine because I think I drink enough for the both of us,” he said with a laugh, but there was something almost like shame in his eyes.

  Cho
osing to ignore the self-deprecating comment, I glanced around the room before my eyes settled back on him. He was sitting next to me, but not too close, and I appreciated that he wasn’t crowding me. It let me know that he was thinking about what I’d said on the phone. Our eyes met and my body warmed as the emerald depths of his gaze seemed to peer into my very soul. This was new and strange but thrilling at the same time. I let the feelings wash over me for a moment longer before I broke the gaze and looked down at my hands.

  “It feels like I’ve known you for so much longer than just a few hours,” Henry admitted as he threw back the last of his drink.

  My head snapped up to meet his gaze again. I nodded slightly. Though we’d barely said much since I’d arrived, I felt the same way.

  I angled my body towards his on the couch. “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

  Henry nodded. “I don’t know what this is, but I’ve never felt this way before.”

  “Me neither. That’s why I asked to come over here. I had to see you again in person, to make sure I wasn’t making it all up in my head. But I wasn’t, I’m not. I still feel the same way.”

  Without saying a word, Henry got up and headed to the kitchen. He returned with the bottle of whiskey. I watched him fill his glass almost to the top and throw it back, finishing half the contents in one gulp. I wondered how much truth there was to what he said about drinking.

  “That was actually the reason I called you. Jackson was put off about the paparazzi thing. We were both worried that maybe you or your friend had called them. But the more I thought about you, the more I knew you didn’t. I don’t know you, but I know you would never do it.”

  “But you don’t even know me,” I repeated, almost as if to play devil’s advocate to see what he would say.

  “I don’t. But I feel like I do.” He shook his head, tossing back the rest of his drink before slamming the empty glass down on the table.

  Silence fell over us as we sat there, but it wasn’t awkward. I watched him—his mannerisms, his face, the slight sway from side to side that was likely the result of the two glasses of whiskey he’d downed in record time. There were words bubbling in my chest, things I wanted to say to him, but for some reason, I couldn’t speak yet. So, we sat there, staring at one another in front of his fireplace. We were virtual strangers, and yet I felt like I was in the company of an old friend.