But fate put me where I’m standing right now.
Fate’s the reason the dominoes are falling, crashing into my reality and leaving me shattered.
It’s so easy to blame fate. But I don’t have any other explanation.
Nathan didn’t plan this, and neither did I.
It’s a funny thing, fate. It loves to fuck you over.
Chapter 1
Harlow
“Holy shit,” I say, the words slipping out under my breath. I barely hear them myself. I swallow thickly and then wipe my sweaty palms on my plum pencil skirt. A gust of wind blowing along East Fifty-fifth Street causes my loose cream blouse to billow and sends a chill down my heated skin.
I barely feel it though, as I stand here feeling like a fraud.
I've always been a normal girl with a normal life. Everything happened so quickly and I just kept nodding my head in disbelief. And now I’m here. Standing outside of the St. Gerard hotel. It’s a sleek and modern building made of black glass and shiny steel. It’s full of a hustle and bustle that echoes the busy streets of New York, but with an edge and sophistication that doesn’t allow for outsiders. It’s high end and only meant for the who’s who of New York City.
And I’m expected to walk through those doors. Just a girl from the suburbs who always dreamed of getting an inch closer to the city.
My heart races thinking about holding my head up high and squaring my shoulders, pretending like I belong here. There’s only so much a person can fake and right now, I can’t even pretend to have confidence. Fake it till you make it. I say the motto over and over. It’s worked for me so far.
“I know, right?” Lydia says with a different air to her tone than mine. Not quite disbelief, more like the sound of accomplishment. The voice someone uses when they know they’ve made it and they’re damn proud.
Sometimes, I wonder at what point she went from being my first client at the agency to a friend. Since day one, only months ago, the air between us has been easy and she’s only shown me a sweet side that’s made it easy to confide in her. Today, of all days, I need someone to lean on and to ground me. I couldn’t have lucked out more.
“Like, ho-ly shit,” I say each syllable separately, thankful that she’s hell-bent on keeping me from making an utter fool of myself.
This is my first real time on set, even though I’ve been interning with one of the top talent agents in Manhattan for months. This is my first time at a real shoot. Well, maybe not today, but sometime in the next few weeks. Not that I wanted this. I never asked for it and a happy accident led me here. It’s Lydia’s fault. The bitch set me up. A smile slips onto my face at the thought.
Lydia was made to be a star, with high cheekbones and straight black hair that’s never needed a keratin blowout. She’s going to kill it in there and earn her place in this industry. She’s supposed to be here.
“We got this,” she says as she maneuvers the Louis Vuitton bag onto her shoulder and smacks her lips together, but the stain doesn’t budge on her lips.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I say softly, my eyes traveling along the etched glass sign above the doorway. My gaze follows the glass elevator as it moves seamlessly up the 150-story building until my eyes can’t focus on it anymore. The glare of the sun forces me to slip my sunglasses back into place. I feel sick to my stomach.
Lydia just smiles, her bright red lips thinning as her pearly whites flash back at me. “You know those aren’t your lines, right?” she asks and then glides the tip of her tongue across her teeth and steps forward, ignoring the dozens of people hurrying to move around us as if we don’t even exist. She’s not intimidated by the building, the people, or the expectations we’re about to walk into.
Ever since high school, almost ten years ago now, I’ve thought about what it would be like to be an actress. I didn’t dare to really dream of it though. I thought I could do casting calls or learn to be an agent. Something in the industry, but I never hoped to actually participate on screen. My first summer out of college as an intern proved this industry moves fast and I need to be prepared for anything.
“Four weeks of this,” Lydia says as a woman in a chic pink Chanel tweed dress and a thin black patent leather belt around her waist walks past us. It’s hard not to notice her. Her hot pink pumps click loudly on the sidewalk, and even with the traffic and other people moving about, she stands out as a force that refuses to blend in. She walks right ahead of us, a large Dooney and Bourke purse in the crook of her arm and the doors open without hesitation, allowing her entry.
My heart flips once, then twice, as my legs turn to jello and she disappears beyond the black glass. Lydia mumbles something incoherently, gripping my arm and making me nearly topple over. “That was Julie Rays! Julie!” she squeals.
I stare back at her, bewildered. I should know that name. I should know everyone on set. It was my job at the agency to know anyone worth knowing in this industry. But for the life of me, my mind is blank. I force a smile and nod my head as Lydia gathers her composure. Her smile is infectious; her confidence, her everything.
Julie Rays. I say her name in my head over and over. “Oh, shit. Julie Rays.” It finally clicks and my eyes widen as I search beyond the glass for her figure, but she’s gone. Julie’s an up-and-coming actress. The star of not one, but two new top-rated shows on television last year. I should have recognized her in a heartbeat. She’s one of the hottest actresses right now and she just walked past me only a few feet away.
“Oh my God, do you think she’s on the same set?” I ask Lydia, who lets a sly smile slip onto her face. We don’t know a single thing about the stars of the show. To control publicity, NDAs are standard before shooting begins.
“Don’t leave me,” I tell Lydia as she starts to move toward the building. The request comes out in a single breath and more like a desperate question than anything else.
“There’s no way I’m letting you go anywhere without me,” she says with a wink and pulls me toward the doors. Lydia doesn’t even break her stride as the doorman pulls the all-glass door wide open and tips his head to greet her.
My feet move in unison with Lydia’s pace as I take in the expansive lobby. The high ceilings make the ambient sounds echo in the large room. To the right side is an open-concept restaurant and I only take a quick glance. There are high-end shops on my left and an enormous fountain in the very center. Just beyond, there’s a large mahogany desk that spans the length of the open lobby. The reception desk. Right where we’re headed.
One of the four women behind the desk looks up at us with a smile, her platinum blonde hair pulled back tightly into a high bun. Everyone in here oozes wealth and sophistication.
“You’re fine,” Lydia whispers to me and her voice makes me turn to her. “If you could stop gripping me like you’re about to float away, I’d appreciate it,” she says.
I instantly let go of her arm.
It’s just that … I’m intimidated. There’s no other way to put it. I’m terrified I’m going to fail. That I’ll ruin this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
“You’re seriously going to do fine,” Lydia says, practically reading my mind as we come to a stop in front of the desk.
Before I can even utter a response, she’s already moved on and is giving our names to the receptionist, Alexis, or so it says on the shiny silver tag above her shirt pocket.
“And how can I help you, Miss Parker?”
“We’re here for filming with Mr. Stevens,” Lydia says and adds, “The fifteenth floor, I believe.” Her soft smile and elegance speak of confidence and certainty. Sure enough, the receptionist nods and reveals key cards, swiping them in something I can’t fully see next to her computer.
I swallow the lump in my throat and look around the large lobby, watching as the men and women, each dressed in varying degrees of wealth, move across the tiled marble. The ceiling is domed and so high I have to crane my neck to see the etched designs along the coffered ceiling.
My mother insisted that a college degree wasn’t necessary. She loved having me work with her in the corner shop selling secondhand antiques and collectibles. I did it for years, but going to school was a chance to get closer to the bright lights of the city. Every year inching nearer, but knowing within four short years I’d be right back in the suburbs, working at my mom’s shop and making her proud.
One day, I’m just a marketing student. The next, I’m taking an internship under Nancy Welsh, a well-known agent.
I shouldn’t have applied; all it did was upset my mother, who didn’t understand, and pulled me closer to a life I didn’t think I was supposed to lead.
Within two weeks, I was practicing line readings with a client and up-and-coming actress, Lydia Parker, sweet and seemingly unassuming. But Lydia is cunning, and she knows the ways of this industry. It wasn’t an accident that we were practicing lines in the coffee shop that the director, Stevens, frequented. What Lydia wants, Lydia gets.
I guess him catching sight of me makes me a happenstance of sorts. I’m just a minor character, but still, it’s more than I ever thought I’d be.
I almost turn my head, tearing my eyes away from the abstract stone sculptures on either side of the elevator when I hear Lydia thank the receptionist. I almost carry on, allowing myself to move through the motions of something I only dared to imagine.
But my eyes catch sight of a man as he enters an elevator. His thin, brown, worn leather jacket is pulled tightly across his broad shoulders as he walks.
My heart stops beating. The chatter and faint sounds turn to white noise. It can’t be him. I tell myself over and over. My lips part and I nearly take a step forward, mostly from disbelief. My hand instantly reaches behind me for Lydia, but I’m not aware if it’s even her. I just need something to grab onto in order to stay grounded.
I recognize him by the way he moves. The way his hand slips into the back pocket of his dark blue jeans and pulls out the necessary card. I know it’s him before he even turns around. The sharp jawline is new, accompanying an older version of the boy I used to know. But his eyes I would know anywhere. The darkness that swirls, the chill in his gaze, yet the heat it brings me. They hold me captive, make me weak, make me crave the way things were before I lost him.
Nathan Hart.
There’s a secret, a dark past between us. Something I’ve tried to ignore and pretend never happened. It’s what tore us apart and even though I’ve accepted what occurred and my part in it, I don’t think I’ll ever be okay.
Time is a bitch. It slows and seems to stay still, refusing to move or to let me respond with anything but disbelief. I wish I hadn’t been looking toward the elevator doors as they start to close, taking him away from me. But I am and as they slowly close, his eyes drift to mine. I’m caught in his stare. Unmoving and trapped by fate as his eyes widen slightly with recognition.
Then time continues, sure that I’ve seen him and he’s seen me, certain that it’s destroyed me in this moment. And I’m released, turning from the doors as quickly as I can.
He wasn’t supposed to be here.
But I know I saw him and he saw me.
And that changes everything.
Click here to keep reading Second Chance!
Sneak Peek of Possessive
From USA Today bestselling author W Winters comes an emotionally gripping, standalone, contemporary romance.
It was never love with Daniel and I never thought it would be.
It was only lust from a distance.
Unrequited love maybe.
He’s a man I could never have, for so many reasons.
That didn’t stop my heart from beating wildly when his eyes pierced through me.
It only slowed back down when he’d look away, making me feel so damn unworthy and reminding me that he would never be mine.
Years have passed and one look at him brings it all back.
But time changes everything.
There’s a heat in his eyes I recognize from so long ago, a tension between us I thought was one-sided.
“Tell me you want it.” His rough voice cuts through the night and I can’t resist.
That’s where my story really begins.
Possessive is an emotional, gripping story. Filled with heartache, guilt and longing! Possessive will take you on a journey of obsession and jealousy...it's emotional, raw and captivating. - Beyond The Covers Blog
Preface
Addison
It’s easy to smile around Tyler.
It’s how he got me. We were in tenth-grade calculus, and he made some stupid joke about angles. I don’t even remember what it was. Something about never discussing infinity with a mathematician because you’ll never hear the end of it. He’s a cute dork with his jokes. He knows some dirty ones too.
A year later and he still makes me smile. Even when we’re fighting. He says he just wants to see me smile. How could I leave when I believe him with everything in me?
My friend’s grandmother told me once to fall in love with someone who loves you just a little more.
Even as my shoulders shake with a small laugh and he leans forward nipping my neck, I know that I’ll never really love Tyler the way he loves me.
And it makes me ashamed. Truly.
I’m still laughing when the bedroom door creaks open. Tyler plants a small kiss on my shoulder. It’s not an open-mouth kiss, but still, it leaves a trace on my skin and sends a warmth through my body. It’s only momentary though.
The cool air passes between the two of us, as Tyler leans back and smiles broadly at his brother.
I may be seated on my boyfriend’s lap, but the way Daniel looks at me makes me feel alone. His eyes pierce through me. With a sharpness that makes me afraid to move. Afraid to breathe even.
I don’t know why he does this to me.
He makes me hot and cold at the same time. It’s like I’ve disappointed him simply by being here. As if he doesn’t like me. Yet, there’s something else.
Something that’s forbidden.
It creeps up on me whenever I hear Daniel’s rough voice; whenever I catch him watching Tyler and me. It’s like I’ve been caught cheating, which makes no sense at all. I don’t belong to Daniel, no matter how much that idea haunts my dreams.
He’s almost twenty and I’m only sixteen. And more importantly, he’s Tyler’s brother.
It’s all in my head. I tell myself over and over again that the electricity between us is something I’ve made up. That my body doesn’t burn for Daniel. That my soul doesn’t ache for him to rip me away and punish me for daring to let his brother touch me.
It’s only when Tyler says something to him, that Daniel turns to look at him, tossing something down beside us.
Tyler’s oblivious to everything happening. And suddenly, I can breathe again.
My eyelids flutter open, my body hot under the stifling blankets. I don’t react to the memory in my dreams anymore. Not at first. It sinks in slowly. The recognition of what that day would lead to getting heavier in my heart with each second that passes. Like a wave crashing on the shore, but it’s taking its time. Threatening as it approaches.
It was years ago, but the memory stays.
The feeling of betrayal, for fantasizing about Tyler’s older brother.
The heartache from knowing what happened only three weeks after that night.
The desire and desperation to go back to that point and beg Tyler to never come looking for me.
All of those needs stir into a deadly concoction in the pit of my stomach. It’s been years since I’ve been tormented by the memories of Tyler and what we had. And by the memories of Daniel and what never was.
Years have passed.
But it all comes
back now that Daniel's back.
Chapter 1
Addison
The night before
I love this bar. Iron Heart Brewery. It’s nestled in the center of the city and located at the corner of this street. The town itself has history. Hints of the old cobblestone streets peek through the torn asphalt and all the signs here are worn and faded, decorated with weathered paint. I can’t help but to be drawn here.
And with the varied memorabilia lining the walls, from signed knickknacks to old glass bottles of liquor, this place is flooded with a welcoming warmth. It’s a quiet bar with all local and draft beers a few blocks away from the chaos of campus. So it’s just right for me.
“Make up your mind?”
My body jolts at the sudden question. It only gets me a rough laugh from the tall man on my left, the bartender who spooked me. A grey shirt with the brewery logo on it fits the man well, forming to his muscular shoulders. With a bit of stubble and a charming smirk, he’s not bad looking. And at that thought, my cheeks heat with a blush.
I could see us making out behind the bar; I can even hear the bottles clinking as we crash against the wall in a moment of passion. But that’s where it would end for me. No hot and dirty sex on the hard floor. No taking him back to my barely furnished apartment.
I roll my eyes at the thought and blow a strand of hair away from my face as I meet his gaze.
I’m sure he flirts with everyone. But it doesn’t make it any less fun for the moment.
“Whatever your favorite is,” I tell him sheepishly. “I’m not picky.” I have to press my lips together and hold back my smile when he widens his and nods.
Cards of Love: Three of Swords Page 12