by Hazel Kelly
“Of course.”
He started walking towards the back sections of the club.
I wondered if I should admit how much I’d missed him and his kisses.
He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
I nodded and fell into step behind him. I liked how the converted warehouse smelled, like sawdust and floor polish, though I doubted it would last.
“I think the chairs you picked go great in here,” he said, leaning in the doorframe.
I squeezed past him, more than I wanted to, and regretted not letting my shoulder drag across his chest.
But he was right. The chairs looked great, and the way their curved backs matched the semi-circular booths along the wall was perfect.
And in that moment I felt really proud of myself.
Seeing how all my individually chosen details came together- from the skirting to the sconces to the spaces in between- made me think I might really have a chance in this business. After all, it had been a massive project, and I didn’t even have a team yet- just one wacky assistant.
“I can really picture my most elite clientele in here enjoying bottle service.”
“Good,” I said. “I’m so glad you’re pleased.”
“Would you like to see the bathrooms?” he asked, not waiting for my answer.
I followed him into the hall and down to the end of it.
He pushed open the door to the men’s room first.
I laughed when I stepped inside.
“What?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just so masculine. I feel like I’m in a Gillette commercial.”
He stuck his hands in his pockets and let his eyes follow the trail of blue lights that cut across the wall. “I think it’s perfect,” he said. “Simple, clean. Get in and get out.”
I nodded. “That’s what I was going for.”
“Plus, the black and blue is so macho. I could see any guy a few drinks in convincing himself he could get the girl in this setting.”
I smiled. “Or at least that he could get her after he buys her a few more drinks.”
“Exactly.”
I furrowed my brow. “Do you do that?” I asked. “Psych yourself up in the bathroom with a little pep talk when you like someone?”
“Of course not,” he said, scolding me with his eyes for asking. He pulled the door open for me and I stepped past, crossing straight into the ladies room across the hall.
“Ahh,” I said. “Now this is a proper bathroom.” I could feel him rolling his eyes behind me.
It was essentially two rooms, one with stalls and one with counters and mirrors so the women who only came in to freshen up didn’t get in the way of those who needed to use the facilities.
“Frankly, I’m worried you might have made things too comfortable in here,” he said.
“Don’t worry.” I looked over my shoulder at him. “If the music and drinks are good, no one will overstay their welcome.”
“I’m just glad this is going to be a classy establishment,” he said. “If the places I drank at in college had couches like that, people would’ve been passing out and doing all sorts on them.”
“You’ll have to price out the riff raff.”
“I intend to.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What haven’t I seen yet?”
“Just the balcony areas,” he said, not meeting my gaze.
“Oh right. I’m dying to see how those leather benches worked out.”
He opened the door and tilted his head towards the hallway.
I led the way back to the center of the main floor and over to the staircase. I decided early on to keep the metal railings as they were, but we had the steps reinforced with the same wood as downstairs. And as I walked up them in my heels, I tried not to think about the last view Ben got of my ass on those stairs.
When I reached the top, I turned and looked out over the main dance floor. It looked pretty enough for its own spread in Architecture Magazine, and the view of the light fixture from the lofted area was magnificent.
Behind me, a cozy area of cushioned benches and low tables fit against the wall, giving potential guests plenty of options regardless of whether they were in the mood to sit or stand.
“Gosh,” I said. “I mean, I knew I had good taste, but wow.”
Ben smiled. “Yeah. You were definitely the woman for the job,” he said. “The place feels classy and young and expensive. I honestly wouldn’t change a thing.”
“I’m so glad.” I put a hand over my chest and turned to look at him. “That really means a lot.”
He shrugged. “It’s true. Everything has exceeded my expectations.”
I smiled.
“Except for one thing.”
My eyes grew wide. “What’s that?”
“My dad still won’t let me use the name.”
“You’re kidding. Has he seen the place?” I held my palms out. “Who wouldn’t want to put their name on this?”
Chapter 4: Ben
“I know.” I leaned over and rested my forearms on the railing. “At this point, I think he’s only being stubborn because it’s easier to say no.”
She furrowed her brow. “So what are you going to do?”
I shrugged. “Come up with something brilliant in the next week.”
“What are the current front runners?”
“Club Callihan and Club Krungbin.”
“Krungbin?”
“It means airplane in Thai.”
She scrunched her nose. “I like Club Callihan better.”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s a shock.”
“Not that you’re really going to call it that.”
“No,” I said, looking out over the club. “You got anything?”
“How about Club Magdalena?”
I furrowed my brow. “What’s that?”
“Cupcake in Spanish.”
I straightened up and turned towards her. Her lips were so red they looked like they might burst like a cherry if I bit one. “Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”
“What if you didn’t give it a proper name?” she asked. “Like that black door place or-”
“Then people would just start calling it something they chose, and I hate that idea.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “I suppose that’s true.”
“How about skirt steak?” I asked.
“I like the alliteration, but-”
“Not for the club. For dinner.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I’m starving and it only seems right that we should celebrate the fabulous job we did on this place, name or no name.”
“Only if it can be my treat.”
I laughed. “Not a chance. I pick the place. I pay.”
“But you got our last dinner.”
“And you just lost who knows how many night’s sleep trying to make this place look the way it does.”
“I didn’t stop sleeping.”
That made one of us. Missing her was making me strung out as fuck. “Whatever. Let me get my coat.”
When I went to turn around, I felt her hand pin mine against the railing.
“Ben.”
Her touch made a jolt of warmth shoot up my spine. “What?” I asked, turning to face her again.
Her lashes blinked around her big brown eyes.
“What is it?”
“I just want to thank you for hiring me,” she said, pulling her hand back and holding it in her other one. “I really enjoyed working on this project with you and-”
I wanted to kiss her then, wanted to shut up the nonsense that was coming out of her mouth and let her lips really do the talking. But I couldn’t. I’d been so starved for her voice I didn’t dare interrupt her, especially when I knew there were things I desperately wanted to hear her say. “And what?”
“I hope we can keep in touch now that this is over-”
“Time will tell,” I said.
“To be frank, I’m disappointed we ever stopped touching each other in the first place.”
She looked down for a second.
“But I’m over it,” I lied. Then I turned around and headed down the stairs, desperate to get some fresh air into my tight chest. I hadn’t said it to be cruel, and I hoped it hadn’t hurt her. That was the last thing I wanted.
But she’d treated me so badly in her office- like I was some kind of hired escort that she’d tired of playing with. And I had to protect whatever dignity I had left, especially in light of that damn ornament.
What was I thinking giving her that? Had I learned nothing from my dad? Never in my life had I told a woman how I felt about her before I was sure I knew how she felt about me.
Except Carrie made my brain feel so much like a word search I couldn’t make sense of what was in my own head.
Normally, I felt so in control. Not only was I able to handle myself, but I could usually get the people around me to do whatever I wanted.
But I couldn’t control her.
And that terrified me as much as it excited me.
I lifted my coat off the end of the long bar and swung it over my shoulders, trying to decide if telling her what I knew about Simon would only push her further away.
Of course, I didn’t see what choice I had in light of my feelings for her.
I didn’t want to be another guy who kept things from her, regardless of whether she wanted me in her life long term.
“Are you sure you don’t want to do your own thing for dinner?” she asked, cocking her hip as she approached me by the door. “You seem kind of upset with me and-”
I leaned right up to her so her fat red lips were inches from my face and reached around the corner, flicking the light switches off one at a time. “I’m not upset with you.”
“But you’ve been so cold, so short.”
“I’m merely trying to respect your wishes,” I said, my heart pounding in my chest.
Her brown eyes looked too dark to read.
I reached up and touched her face, dropping my eyes to her mouth. Then I flicked the last light switch off and let her floral scent linger around my face for a moment while we stood in the dark, which was exactly how I wanted it because I didn’t want her to see the disappointment in my expression.
When I finally stepped back and headed for the exit, I heard her heels coming behind me. A stream of light poured in from the street lamps as I swung the door open, and I moved to the side so she could walk out ahead of me.
She stopped in the opening and stood chest to chest with me. “What if I wanted to change my wish?” she asked. “Would it make a difference?”
“A difference to what?” I asked, nudging her outside so I could close the door.
“To you,” she said, leaning against it as I turned the key in the lock.
“I guess that depends,” I said, not looking at her.
“What does it depend on?”
“That’s our Uber,” I said, nodding towards the Qashqai at the curb.
She sighed. “Are you okay?” She paused with her hand on the car door handle. “I thought you wanted to celebrate, but you seem so down.”
“I have some news.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Bad news?”
I shrugged. “Only you can be the judge of that.”
She dropped her hand from the door. “What is it?”
“I’ll tell you over dinner,” I said, opening the back door for her. “As soon as I’m not faint with hunger.”
“Is it about the club?” she asked, furrowing her brow.
“Get in the car,” I said, nodding towards the interior.
She looked at me for a moment- without a trace of dimple in sight- before climbing in the car.
I slid in beside her, greeting the driver and then looking out the window at the club, my eyes lingering on the blank space over the door, the space I’d measured that was the perfect size to fit the words Club Abbott in lights.
I turned to face forwards when I felt a hand on my knee, and as I glanced her way, Carrie slid into the center of the backseat so the length of her thigh was touching mine.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Trying to comfort you,” she said, leaning her head on my shoulder.
And as if I didn’t feel shitty enough, my stomach turned upside down.
After all, I was the one who should’ve been comforting her. The bad news had nothing to do with me.
But I didn’t have it in me to ask her to move away.
Instead, I put my arm around her shoulders, stared at the way her delicate hand looked lying on my leg, and hoped she wasn’t as far gone as I thought.
Chapter 5: Carrie
I scooted next to him more for me than for him.
Comforting was the last thing it seemed like he needed. Meanwhile, I was aching inside, struggling to find the words that would express how much I missed him, how much I wanted him back in my life.
But everything seemed inadequate compared to my feelings.
And then when he didn’t kiss me in the club- despite being so close to me that our breath mingled in the dark- I felt sick.
I suppose I could’ve done it. Technically, it was probably my turn to make a move considering that the last time we’d been in such close proximity I’d essentially told him to leave me alone.
But I thought he was going to do it.
And who would’ve bet against him? I mean, he was the kind of guy that didn’t pass up an opportunity like that. Unless he was over me for real.
But he couldn’t be. Just a few minutes ago he said he was sorry we’d ever stopped touching each other.
Then again, he hadn’t smiled when he said it or anything.
Ugh. I didn’t know what to think.
And it was all my fault. Between the ornament and what a gentleman he’d been, it was clear that I was the one that hadn’t tried hard enough.
And then I said I hoped we could keep in touch? What the hell?
Not only did the pathetic comment fail to convey what I felt in my heart but it was way too subtle.
I mean, it’s not like I had the world’s most extensive dating experience, but I knew enough to know that subtlety was lost on men. If anything, I shouldn’t even have wasted my breath on the balcony. I should’ve just grabbed his lapel and laid one on him- whether he was expecting it or not.
But no. Instead, I meekly thanked him for the opportunity.
What an ass?!
God knows he looked at my lips enough times in that club that I could be sure kissing me had crossed his mind. But it was my move, and I knew in my heart of hearts that I should’ve already spilled my guts and told him that pretending to be his was more fun than anything I’d ever done for real.
But I was afraid.
Just like he said.
And I knew why. Yeah, it was stupid, but sometimes the most real emotions are.
Basically, I’d given Simon my whole heart, wrapping all my hopes and dreams in his until they were inextricably linked, and then I let myself believe that no one who held so much of my heart in their hands could possibly hurt me.
And he had.
And when it came time to unravel my dreams from his, it was messier than I’d ever imagined, and many of my dreams became tattered shreds in the process.
As a result, I was afraid to dream again, afraid to align my hopes and desires with another man’s- especially with a man who I knew was a far better catch than Simon ever could’ve been.
Because if things didn’t work out with Ben, the pain would be even more unbearable than the trauma I’d most recently gone through.
Of course, with every passing day, I was starting to wonder if putting a focus on pain avoidance was a sustainable way to live my life. Cause I knew from experience that pain dulled over time, but the ache in my body from missing Ben was only growing more severe each day and showed no signs of abating.
So the question I needed to answe
r was whether having a chance to be with him again was worth the risk of looking like a fool if he didn’t want me back.
And I knew the answer, knew what advice I would give to someone in my same situation.
But sometimes knowing the right thing to do was the easy part.
It was taking action that was hard.
In fact, it was even harder than sitting across from him in a romantically lit steakhouse, watching the candlelight cast shadows across his masculine face as he lifted his glass of wine in my direction.
“What are we toasting?” I asked, laying a torn piece of French bread beside the pool of olive oil I’d just poured on my bread plate.
“To you,” he said, waiting while I lifted my glass. “For the great work you did on the club and to many more successful projects in the future.”
I clinked my glass against his. “That’s very kind, but you’re not giving yourself enough credit. It was your vision. I merely brought it to life.”
“Nonsense. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Thanks.” I tilted my wine against my lips and tried to guess what would happen if I risked my pride and apologized for being an idiot, for denying the amazing thing that was right in front of me.
Then again, maybe I didn’t deserve him. He was a man who went for what he wanted, and here I was, unable to admit to myself that I was probably already in love with him.
“You will come to the opening night, right?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
I set my glass down, looked at him, and lied. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Well, it would mean a lot to me,” he said. “If you don’t already have plans for New Year’s Eve, of course.”
I pursed my lips. I didn’t have anything set, but Brook had already mentioned going out. “Can I bring my best friend along?”
“I think I can probably get you guys in.”
I smiled.
“As long as you both show a tasteful amount of flesh.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Seriously, though,” he said. “You will come, won’t you?”
“Sure,” I said, trying not to give away how much it meant that he’d asked.
“I’ve planned something I think you’ll enjoy.”