The doom and gloom of the weather matches my outlook on life right now. Ever since my night in the dark room, I have been despondent. I’ve been going through the motions on automatic pilot because I’m unable to fully grasp what the fuck took place. She’s a virgin … or was until I took that sacred piece from her. For the second time, I almost got up and left her there, but something told me to stay, to give her what she wanted.

And I did. I took her virginity when it should’ve been given to someone who cares about her, who loves her unconditionally, who fucking deserved it because that man is not me. Any man who has to pay for sex doesn’t deserve the virtue of another, and yet I took it like a greedy motherfucker because I felt sorry for her.

Every time I think about those whispered words, my heart breaks. Any man would’ve high-tailed it out of that room, but not me. I couldn’t. As much as my mind wanted to, my heart told me to give her what she was asking for. When she flew off the bed, I stayed there, trying to come to terms with what just happened. Why did this woman need to seek this sort of attention at a sex club? Is there something wrong with her? Has society shunned her in some way?

As far as I’m concerned, I’m done with the club. I thought about blocking Jenica’s number from my phone, but truthfully, if she were to text, I’d answer. I’m determined to break the rules. To rip the shroud covering our faces away so we can see each other. So we can look into each other’s eyes, smile, and appreciate the pleasure that we’re giving one another. No more secrecy. It makes me feel like I’m using this woman, and I’m not.

Standing in front of my living room window, I gaze down at the street, trying to make heads or tails of everything that is going on in my mind. It’s been raining for days, which is perfect for the mood I’ve been in.

Except tonight I must put on a suit, a fucking bright ass smile, and charm the pants off investors. Parker Ward is hosting a dinner at his house and I’m expected to be there when it’s the last place I want to be.

However, anything I can do to get my mind off the fuckery of this week, I’ll do it. To put my man card back in my wallet and forget that I took some stranger’s virginity. I don’t care if I had intimate knowledge of her beforehand, I can’t get this shit out of my head.

The rain covers my window faster than my wipers can move it away. I officially hate Portland and everything it stands for. I plan to tell Parker that Sweet Briar is going to be my only project, except I don’t know how to tell him the reason why. It’s not like I can say, “Hey, I fucked some chick in this sex club and now I want to get the fuck out of town.” He’d probably fire me on the spot for being some sexual deviant. Cut me loose before I slip up or someone sees me going in and out of there. No one wants a scandal.

I pull into the driveway of his house … strike that, mansion … or is a castle? From my car I can’t be sure, but it looks like the only thing missing is a moat. However, with the amount of rainfall we’re getting, it won’t take long for a trench to develop.

My car door is opened and an umbrella is promptly put over my head so I can step out. “Mr. Robicheau, welcome to Ward Manor,” the valet says. I have hob knobbed with some very famous people, but I have never been treated like this upon arrival. I’m tempted to call him Jeeves, but don’t want to insult him.

“Thank you.” I reach for the umbrella, but he motions for me to walk toward the house. He stays in line with me until I reach the front door where the doorman greets me. He shows me into the vast foray with its grand chandelier hanging overhead and the wide staircase that has a banister that any teen would want to slide down. I’m starting to think Parker’s married to a princess or something equally defining because this house is fit for royalty.

“The party is through those doors,” the doorman says, pointing to my left. I nod, acting as casual as I can, pretending that I knew that and I wasn’t just standing in awe of the most gorgeous room I have ever been in.

I walk through the double doors into the ballroom. People are mingling around the circular tables that have been set up while caterers walk around with trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne. I snag a crab cake and flute filled with bubbly before making my way toward Parker.

There’s a blonde-haired woman with her hand resting on Parker’s arm who has to be his wife. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet, but Bryant says she’s a knock out. I peruse the room to see if anyone else fits the bill and my eyes land on another woman with brunette hair, but with blonde strands. Or is it the other way around? Is she a blonde with brunette? I know for a fact she can’t be Parker’s wife because she’s dressed in a white shirt with black pants and her long hair is pulled into a low ponytail. Not to mention, she’s standing behind one of the buffet tables.

“Kai, so happy you could make it.” Parker’s voice forces me to tear my eyes away from the caterer. I smile at him and his wife before taking her hand and pressing my lips to it. “This must be your daughter,” I say jokingly, except I’m not because I wouldn’t mind getting to know her a little better. Parker is one lucky son of a bitch, but I guess when you have money, you have only the finer things in life.

“Oh, I like him, Parker,” she says with a cute laugh.

“This is my wife, Mia.”

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Mia. Parker has told me so much about you. He also shared your plans and I have to say that I love everything you’re doing. I just love Sweet Briar and can’t wait to spend summers there.”

Right, of course they’ll have a summer home. I mean, why wouldn’t they when they live in a freaking mansion?

“I really hope that once we’re done, it’s the place that everyone wants to be,” I tell them both. Parker nods in agreement, but is unable to add his two cents because he’s being pulled away, and when he leaves, his wife does, too.

I watch them for a few minutes and imagine myself as Parker with Mia or someone like Mia on my arm. They mingle and greet everyone who enters the room. Parker’s head is constantly tilted toward his wife’s, even more so when she speaks. It’s almost as if he’s hearing her voice for the first time. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

Another tray is brought by, this time with bite-size quiches. They’ve never been my favorite, but I’m starving. In my recent “woe is me party,” I’ve not eaten much. Honestly, I’ve had a hard time stomaching much of anything since the move, but that’s been compounded by everything else.

I have to say this quiche is satisfying, and when the tray is brought by again, I grab the last one off of it and quickly devour it. I know I’m supposed to walk around and introduce myself, but my mind is not on the job right now. I’m having a self-induced pity party over something I have no control over, and that fucking sucks.

“It was her choice,” I mutter to myself.

“Bad break-up?” A hand falls hard onto my shoulder. I look to see Bryant standing next to me.

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

“Couldn’t make it.” He doesn’t seem put off by this, especially as he’s surveying the room. Bryant comes off as the guy who makes shit up to impress his friends. For all I know his mystery girlfriend is an inflatable doll or one of those expensive human-like dolls that you get from Japan. I shouldn’t judge him, but I can’t help it.

“That’s too bad. I was looking forward to meeting her.”

“Let’s do dinner next week,” he suggests.

I nod, acting as if I’m game, wondering if that gives him time to pay someone to be his date. Man, I’m a horrible friend.

“Have her bring a friend,” I say.

He chuckles hard. “Now we’re talking.”

Bryant starts introducing me to people. The man I know and the one standing next to me are two different people. It’s like he has a shut off switch that allows him to go from crude to professional in a flash. Like I’ve said though, Bryant is damn good at his job otherwise I can’t imagine Parker keeping him around.

Every time I move about the room, I glance back at the buffet table to check out the beautiful woman I spotted earlier. There are a few times when I think she’s staring at me, and she may have even blushed. I’m definitely gawking, taking her in. She’s gorgeous, and the closer I get to her table I realize that her physical features are everything that I look for in a woman.

When we’re finally told that the food is ready, I rush to try to be the first in line.

“Why does Parker have a buffet?” I ask. “I would think a served plate would be more his style.”

“It is, but not Mia’s. She’s very humble, and so each party there’s a mix of him and her. She keeps him grounded even though she’s some famous designer.”

“Really?”

Bryant nods as he reaches for a plate. “Yeah. A while back, Parker bought this clothing company, complete with stores, and instead of dismantling and selling it off, he brought her in to rebuild. She completely turned the company around, and within six months cleared a massive profit.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t go to her head. She still packs Parker a paper bag lunch on the days he doesn’t have any client meetings.”

I stifle a laugh. It’s cute though, to show your spouse that kind of love. Bryant and I move down the line, and as I get to the brunette with blonde highlights, I can’t help but make eye contact with her. She stands back, with her hands clasped together, watching and waiting to see if anyone needs assistance or if a platter needs to be replaced.

“Hi,” I say, loud enough that she can hear me.

She grins and shyly turns her head away. I can’t tell if she’s trying to hide her reaction from me, but all it does is make me press on.

“Did you make this?” I ask, pointing to some pasta creation.

“I did,” she says. Her voice hits me like a ton of bricks. It’s familiar, and yet I can’t place it.

“What’s your name?”

“Dria,” she says. I rack my brain, mentally going through my contacts. I can’t recall a time, either here or in California, where I’ve met a Dria.

“Your voice seems familiar. You wouldn’t happen to be from California?”

She shakes her head, but smiles as well. “No, sorry. Born and raised here.”

The arm of the man behind me, reaches over me to scoop some pasta. That’s my cue to move on, except I want to stay and chat with her. I follow Bryant to our table and make sure I choose a seat that gives me direct line of sight to where Dria stands.

“She’s hot,” he says, stuffing his mouth.

“Beautiful,” I counter.

“You should ask her out.”

Maybe I should. And the more I think about it, I want to, but it feels like I’m cheating on the mystery woman by doing that. I’m tempted to ask Bryant if he’s been in any of the rooms and if so, did he feel that way, but I don’t want to explain myself. It’s really none of his business with what I’ve done in there.

As the night continues, I’m never far from the buffet table. I make sure to mingle near her, catching her eye every so often. I even toss in a wink or two for good measure. Her co-workers quickly catch on though, and from what I can tell are encouraging her to talk to me.

I’d like that. Actually, I’d love for her to ask me my name or for my number. When the caterers start to pack up, panic sets in. It’s a now or nothing type moment because I don’t want to go to my boss and ask him about the company he used. I will if I have to, but there are easier ways.

Excusing myself, I rush outside to find Dria loading a truck. “Excuse me,” I say through the darkness, hoping not to scare her.

“Hi,” she says, and once again it feels like I know her.

“My name’s Kai. I’m new in town. I’m single. No children. And I’d really like to take you out for coffee or something?”

There’s giggling coming from the side door. She glances over her shoulder and starts laughing. Instantly I feel like a fool. That is until she turns around and hands me a card. “Here’s my number.”

I take her card and stare at her perfect cursive handwriting, and when I look up, she’s gone and the side door is closed. This could turn into a cat and mouse game if I rush back inside, but I’m happy with just having her number. First thing tomorrow, I’m calling her just so I can hear her voice again.