Eleven
Chloe stalked through the front door of her apartment; tip-toed past Jenna and Marco who were cuddled up and fast asleep on the sofa; and continued onwards to her room where she fell face first into bed.
She buried her face in a pillow and muffled a scream.
What the hell was wrong with her? She had almost kissed a client.
A client.
A CLIENT!
Something she had never done or been tempted to do before.
She wanted to blame it on the romantic intimacy of the aerialist show. They had been lying next to each other, in the dark, shoulder to shoulder, for an hour before the forbidden kiss that almost was.
But she knew it probably had more to do with the glaring fact that she had been single for far too long. A problem she seriously needed to rectify by getting a Mr. Right Now, stat.
Because getting emotionally or physically involved with a client would be detrimental to her business, her reputation and, worse yet, her mission to bring star-crossed soulmates together.
She turned over, onto her back, and stared at the ceiling.
It would be best, she concluded, to hold off scheduling another session with Ian till she found someone suitable to have flirtatious – and kissable – nights o’ fun with.
Because what had almost-happened hours before, could never, ever, never happen again.
“Ian…”
“Ian…”
“Earth to Ian.”
Ian blinked and looked over at Fitz, who was trying to hand him an ice cold stein of beer.
“Thanks, man,” he said taking the stein in hand.
“Why so deep in thought, in this of all places?” Fitz said looking down at the hallowed ground before them – a 94-foot long, maple wood court where the New York Knicks and the Miami Heat were battling it out to advance to the next round of the NBA Playoffs.
They were seated just three rows from the court. So close were they, Ian could see the contours of the sweat on each player’s brow.
“I still can’t get over how sweet these seats are,” Ian said.
In truth, he had been lost in thought, replaying his almost-kiss with Chloe in his head. Over and over again.
“Tell me about it,” Fitz replied. “And we owe it all to Chloe.”
Ian furrowed his brow. “I thought Yuri gave you these tickets.”
“Only because he’s currently on a jet to St. Petersburg so Linda can meet his babushka in person.”
Ian cocked a brow. “They’ve already advanced to meeting the babushka stage?”
“I don’t know how things are going with this story of yours, but as far as I’m concerned, Chloe is a miracle worker. Before she matched up Linda and Yuri, Yuri was riding my ass, driving me up the freakin’ wall. Now…
“He’s busy riding someone else,” Ian interjected with a smirk.
Fitz grimaced and groaned, “Dude, I do not want to visualize Linda that way…. Ugh. Or Yuri!”
Ian laughed while Fitz took a pronounced gulp of beer, hoping to wash the thought away.
“But in all seriousness,” Fitz said, his mind and palate cleansed. “Yuri’s besotted and I’ve never seen Linda this happy. And it’s all thanks to Chloe. How’s she doing, by the way?”
“Chloe? She’s good,” Ian said, his mind flashing back to the way she had avoided his gaze after the show, when she bid him adieu and glided into a yellow cab.
He had not heard from or spoken to her since and he suddenly realized that she had yet to schedule their next session together. He really wished he could read what was going on in her mind right now.
Ian slid down in his seat and breathed a long, deep and silent sigh as he tried to focus on the action on the court.
Having grown up in the ‘burbs of Boston, he and Fitz were both die-hard Celtics fans, so they were not rooting for either team in particular. But no one in their right mind would turn down free, third row tickets to a playoff game!
He watched as a referee called foul, and a Knicks player stepped up to the free-throw line. A hush fell over the stadium.
“We almost kissed,” Ian said under his breath.
“We? Who?” Fitz’s mouth dropped. “You and Chloe?”
Ian slow-nodded.
“Whoa. When?”
“Last Saturday.”
The hometown crowd erupted with cheers but neither Ian nor Fitz were paying attention.
“Who almost kissed whom?”
Ian glanced at Fitz; the expression on his face said it all.
Fitz shook his head. “What a tangled web you weave, my friend.” he said, taking a sip of beer.
“I know.”
“Hey, I get it,” Fitz said. “She’s smart, beautiful, sweet…”
“She is. It’s almost unbelievable how genuine she is. I mean, she matched up a Russian billionaire for free, expecting nothing in return as far as I can tell. She practically beams when she talks about couples she’s brought together in the past. And she’s so goddamn optimistic, it’s damn near contagious.
“Is she seeing anyone?”
“No boyfriend at the moment.”
Fitz’s eyes brightened. “Ah. So what’s the plan, Stan? With Chloe? With your story?”
Ian stared off into the distance, feeling completely lost and unmoored.
“I have no idea.”
Chloe stepped out of the shower and put on her plush cotton robe, trying to decide whether she was going to wear her hair up or down for the night’s festivities.
It had been two weeks since her almost-kiss with Ian, and she was getting ready for her first night out with Jenna as her wingwoman.
They were headed to NY Woman’s Annual Summer’s Eve Bash. The magazine’s quarterly parties were always a fab mix of the best and brightest of New York’s glitterati – from fashion to music; sports to politics; art to literature.
There was a good chance there would be a number of fun-loving bachelors in the mix for her to flirt with.
“Knock, knock,” came the sound of Jenna’s voice.
Chloe stepped out of her bathroom just as Jenna sashayed into her bedroom, carrying a trio of shopping bags from three different fashion houses.
“I come bearing gifts,” Jenna said, channeling her inner dramatic actress.
“Gifts for what?”
“For you, silly.”
Chloe glared. “You did not.”
“I one hundred percent did.”
“Jenna, I already picked out what I’m going to wear. It’s cute, it’s comfortable…”
Jenna wrinkled her nose.
“And I’m going to be putting it on right now,” Chloe said, walking over to her closet.
“Yeah, no,” Jenna retorted, pulling items from the bags and laying them out on the bed. “If you want me to be your wingwoman, then you have to adhere to my strict fashionista requirements. Non-negotiable.”
Chloe glanced at the bed and frowned. “Are those stilettos?”
“You know it!” Jenna said with twinkle in her eye.
Then she looked at Chloe, cocked her head and put a hand on her hip.
“But first, we need to do something with your hair.”
Two hours later, Chloe and Jenna stepped out of an elevator and onto the rooftop lounge of the swanky Illyia Hotel on Madison Avenue. Chloe was draped in a silky, golden dress that shimmered in the evening light. Wispy chandelier earrings twirled beneath her lobes. And, amazingly enough, the strappy stilettos on her feet were not as uncomfortable as she had feared.
She looked sexy. She felt sexy.
A look and a sensation she had not aspired to for a very long time.
She stood there for a moment, crowned by the glistening stars of the night sky, cloaked by the twinkling lights of the New York skyline, raring and ready to get her flirt on.
Yet another sensation she had not felt in a very long time.
“First things first,” Jenna said, swiping a canapé from a roving waiter. “Open bar!”
They strutted over to a large, circular bar and ordered a pair of watermelon mojitos.
“So here’s how it’s going to go down,” Jenna said, looking out at a sea of New York’s hottest and brightest. “We’re going to do a turn around the party. If you see someone you’re interested in, let me know and I will make it happen. Ditto if I see someone you should be interested in.”
The bartender returned with their drinks, which were topped with a sprig of mint and a spiraled slice of watermelon.
Jenna took a sip and moaned. “Oh my god, these things are manna from heaven.”
She took another sip and breathed a different kind of moan. “Ooo, what about him?”
Chloe followed her line of sight to a guy with puppy dog eyes and a lopsided grin, who was leaning against the wall with his buddies, looking too cool for school.
“He’s not even old enough to grow a beard,” Chloe replied.
“Hey. You said you wanted light and fun. There’s nothing more light and fun than a cutie in his early 20s who doesn’t even know how to spell ‘settle down’ yet.”
Chloe laughed then shook her head. “Hard pass.”
“O-kay…” Jenna said, slowly panning her eyes about the room. “What about him?”
Chloe followed Jenna’s line of sight once more… to a man on the other side of the bar who looked a lot like…
“That’s Fitz,” Chloe said softly and somewhat dazed.
“Who?”
“Ian’s business partner.”
Chloe realized she had yet to tell her best friend about her almost-kiss with Ian. Or her brunch not-date with Alexander.
She decided that, tomorrow, she would cook Jenna one of her rare yet delicious breakfasts; and catch her up on everything. The good, the bad and the almost scandalous.
“Ooo…” Jenna purred. “Another sexy architect. He’s not a client of yours is he?”
“No. Why?”
“Because methinks he would make a perfect Mr. Right Now.”
But Chloe’s mind was elsewhere.
Her eyes moved about the room, hoping, praying, wishing that Fitz had come hanssolo and Ian was somewhere, anywhere but here.
When her eyes landed back on Fitz, he had already spotted her and was making his way over, carrying a freshly-made Boston Sour in hand. He was wearing a dashing suit that screamed, I may look like a GQ model, but there’s so much more to me than that.
He greeted her with the widest of grins and warmest of hugs.
“I don’t know if you know this but you’re top on my list of favorite people right now,” he said.
Chloe could not help but smile. “Why’s that?”
“Because you transformed my client from hell into the best client ever. Before you, Yuri Petrovich was a pain in my derrière. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was on the fast track to getting an ulcer. Now he’s so crazy in love, the other day, I started presenting a set of blueprints to him and you know what he said to me? He said…”
Fitz switched to a Russian accent – and a pretty good one at that. “Do want you think best. I trust your judgment.”
He switched back to his normal voice. “Now, I’m really, really hoping that, when you say they’re soulmates, that means they’ll be together forever till death do they part.”
“Trust me,” Jenna said. “If Chloe says they’re soulmates, then they’re ride or die.”
He breathed a contented sigh of relief. “I’m Fitz, by the way,” he said, reaching out to shake Jenna’s hand.
Chloe grimaced at her slip in manners. “Fitz, this is my friend, Jenna. Jenna, this is Fitz, he’s a commercial architect.”
“I do residential as well,” he said, pulling out his wallet and handing Jenna a card.
“A jack of all architectural trades,” Jenna said, taking the card and giving Chloe a wink that loosely translated to: He’s hot, successful and has good taste in clothes and liquor. Girl, you better reel him in!
“So Fitz,” Jenna continued, morphing into sleuth mode. “Are you here by yourself, or…”
Suddenly, Jenna’s clutch rattled on the bar counter.
“Excuse me,” she said, pulling out her vibrating phone. “Hey, babe, can you hear me? You here yet…?”
She began to walk away in search of a quieter spot.
Chloe turned her attention back to Fitz, who was looking over her shoulder.
“Speaking of which,” he said, “here comes my plus-one.”
Chloe’s shoulders stiffened. She really hoped he was referring to a girlfriend… though a girlfriend had never come up when she had had lunch with him and Ian at a steakhouse near the construction site. Yet, a couple of weeks had passed since then, so maybe, just maybe, Fitz had met someone.
Chloe turned her head and was surprised-not-surprised to see Ian walking towards them. He was rocking the same ensemble he had worn during their first session together. His dry cleaner had done an exemplary job removing the dirt and coffee stains from his crisp white button-up.
Their eyes locked and Ian blinked with surprise.
“Hey,” he said softly upon approach.
“Hi,” she replied, greeting him with the warmest smile she could muster.
She made an impromptu decision to play it totally and completely cool. As if their almost-kiss had never happened. As if she had not been deliberately avoiding him till she got her hormones in check and focused on someone who was not a client. Which was what tonight was supposed to be about… before Ian showed up.
With any luck, he too would pretend nothing had almost-happened between them. Then things could go back to normal and she could continue on her contractual quest to find his soulmate.
“I didn’t know you were a NY Woman kind of guy,” she said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.
“Fitz makes it a point to network once or twice a month, it helps him find new clients.”
Chloe looked back at Fitz to find he had already been pulled away by a divorcee to whom he was giving his business card; but it was clear she was desirous of more than just his architectural prowess.
“What about you?” Ian asked, sliding his hands in his pockets. “What brings you here?”
“I came with Jenna,” she said glancing at her best friend, who was by the elevators, greeting a well-dressed Marco with a lovey-dovey kiss.
“Ah, and is that her soulmate, perchance?”
Chloe smiled. “It is.”
“So another match made by Chloe?”
She looked at him and nodded.
He stared at her for a moment, saying nothing. Then…
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he said, his voice somber. “Mind if we go somewhere quieter?”
Chloe inwardly groaned. So much for pretending.
“Sure,” she said, reluctantly.
The last thing she wanted was for this whole awkward situation to get even more awkward. She had a feeling this ‘talk’ was going to be a hefty one. Hefty as in he either wanted to address the elephant in the room. Or, worse…
He wanted to fire her.
Ian held the elevator door open as Chloe stepped inside. Then he moved to stand beside her and the door slid shut, leaving them alone and in silence.
Ian glanced at Chloe who was lost in thought. He could tell she was nervous, though she hid it well.
He wondered what she was nervous about. What she was expecting him to say, seeing how he was not even sure what he was going to say just yet.
He was still reeling from the coincidence that of all the parties in Manhattan and beyond, they had ended up at the same one.
He was also having trouble concentrating, given that sexy, golden dress of hers that clung to her curves like honey. Her lips were glossy red, her hair a cathedral of curls atop her head, and her legs… god her legs…
A ping sounded and the elevator door opened up to the lobby.
Ian had been to this hotel before, to meet with a source, a corporate whistleblower. He knew there was a garden terrace at the far end of the hotel that would be quiet and private this time of night.
He guided Chloe down a long hallway to a pair of gilded French doors.
They stepped out onto the terrace. An oceanic breeze fluttered the leaves of the trees and the scent of jasmine hung lightly in the air. Ian closed the door behind him and turned to face Chloe.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“I’m good,” she replied with a shake of the head.
He cleared his throat. “So, the thing I wanted to talk to you about… is…”
He gazed upon her face, which looked angelic in the moonlight. He gazed into her eyes, which wavered with concern and fearful anticipation.
“I’d like to put an end to our contract,” he said at long last.
“Oh,” she said sadly. “May I ask why?”
“I’ve met someone… I think.”
“That’s great,” she said with measured enthusiasm.
Ian looked up at the heavens and breathed a long, deep sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Chloe asked.
He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to shore up the courage to say what he wanted to say.
“Is she married?” she asked, filling the silence between them.
He shook his head.
“Is she a client of yours?”
“In a… sense.”
“Oh, okay, well, we could schedule a time for me to see her discreetly so you can know for certain, if you’d like.”
His eyes connected with hers. “What if certainty’s not an option?”
She cocked her head, not quite following.
He took a step towards her, hands in his pockets, willing himself to stay the course despite the orchestral pounding of his heart.
“This woman I’m interested in… the weekend before last, I sat beside her in a theatre, under a ceiling of celestial stars and we almost, almost kissed. I haven’t been able to think of anything else since.”
He gazed deep into her eyes and watched as realization dawned upon her face.
“Ian…” She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “You’re my client…”
“Ex-client, as of just a moment ago.”
She stared back at him, at an utter and complete loss for words.
“Before you say anything… I know this isn’t something either of us planned. But when I’m with you, I feel…
He racked his brain for the just-right word.
“I am in awe of you, Chloe. I love the way you are… with me, with other people, when you think no one’s watching. I feel like there’s this connection between us and it’s taken me by surprise probably as much as I’m taking you by surprise right now.”
Her eyes fell away from him, but still, he stayed the course.
“But this thing, this something between us, I can’t stop thinking that maybe, just maybe, it could be the very thing we’ve both been searching for. I’d really like to see if it is and I’m hoping you do too. I think we owe it to ourselves to find out.
Chloe’s eyes remained trained on the ground. She was quiet and still. Which gave Ian a glimmer of hope. Was her silence a sign of indecision? Was there a chance his heartfelt words were not falling on deaf ears?
He reached for her hands and laced his fingers with hers.
Chloe flinched and closed her eyes, but still he stayed the course.
“Have dinner with me…” he said softly.
She bit the bottom corner of her lip.
“Tomorrow night. You like seafood?”
Seconds passed, then slowly, ever so slowly, she nodded.
Ian smiled. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
Her gaze lifted to his and he could see angels of Doubt and Curiosity warring in her eyes.
“You won’t regret it, I promise,” he said with a reassuring grin. “If it works out between us, if it doesn’t work out between us, one way or another we’ll know.”
He gazed deep into her eyes, fighting the urge to kiss her right then and there.
“But I have a really good feeling that this, all of this, is happening for a reason.”