Bryn
It’s Saturday evening, and I found a dog-walking stint to help pay my rent while I get my startup going. From noon to evening, I have a great time walking a group of small dogs, and three large dogs, separately. I end up soaked in sweat and distracted from my business worries, thankfully.
Once I take the last dog home, a retriever named Milly, I get a gym coupon along with my payment from Mrs. Ford. May as well give it a shot, so I check out the new gym and get some stretching in before I take a shower and head out to hunt something to eat before I head home.
I’m craving a salad from one of my favorite Tribeca markets. It has the most delicious balsamic dressing and lettuce that always has a perfect fresh crunch. The combination of berries with goat cheese always gets me. I’m easy like that.
I call Jensen, but get his voicemail.
“Hey. I need another appointment and I need it to be more than five seconds long. Stop ignoring my calls. I’m not backing out now!”
Frustration eats at me. I hang up and sigh.
I walk a couple more blocks into Tribeca and notice a sleek black car slow to a stop at the end of the block. A young couple exits the car, while another couple waiting on the sidewalk steps up to greet them. They’re all dressed to the nines—the women in skirts and silk tops, the men in slacks and button shirts.
It takes me less than a second to recognize the tallest among the men.
Yeah.
The broad-shouldered
Tall
Utterly dark
Dirty-blond
Handsome
Extremely hot
one.
I slow down my pace.
Swallowing back my disbelief, I pull out my earbuds and tuck my phone into my bag, my hand trembling slightly. I can’t believe it’s him. Is the universe finally getting in on my plan? What do I do now, walk and talk business?
There’s no way I can do that.
But it’s not like I can cross the street and avoid them, that would be infantile and obvious. I continue walking, my head canted down.
I peek up and see the four of them are on the sidewalk under a restaurant awning, talking.
The beat of my heart accelerates the closer I get. Aaric the boy would have made me feel safe, but Aaric the man makes me feel like a fish on a hook.
Well, fuck that, if we’re going to be in business I can’t pay attention to my heart. I inhale and prepare to walk past when I hear—
“Long time no see.”
It’s Christos’s low, deep voice. My heart stops, then restarts with a pounding racket in my head.
I turn my head, smiling as I do.
“Well, if it isn’t my future business partner. I was just thinking of you,” I say.
He leans over to greet me with a brush of his lips on my cheek. “I’m sure all your thoughts of me color your face pink like that.”
The touch makes me tingly and uncomfortable and hot. Hot all over.
I widen my eyes.
Is he seriously flirting with me in front of his girlfriend?
What’s the deal with him?
“Bryn? Is that you? It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. Come here!” Aaric’s brother, Cole, says as he pulls me into a hug.
“Cole!” I say, hugging my old high school friend back. “Are you living here with your brother?”
“Not with him—but I’m definitely a resident,” he concedes.
After greeting the women—Miranda, Aaric’s blonde, who greets me coolly and looks down her nose at me, and Gwen, Cole’s blonde, who doesn’t bother to look me in the eye—I search for something to say as all four pairs of eyes examine me with interest.
“I never expected to see you again.” I look at Aaric as I speak. Silently asking—are you willing to see me again or what, you stubborn man?
He stares down at me, taking in my face, his expression unreadable but his eyes intense as he drinks me in.
“We’re getting drinks, do you want to accompany us, Bryn?” Cole asks.
Hesitation grips me. “Oh, I’d hate to be a fifth wheel,” I hedge.
The women don’t look pleased about Cole’s invitation.
Especially Christos’s blonde.
“That term doesn’t exist between old friends. Come on. I’m sure my brother here would love to catch up with his Lips.”
Aaric shoots his brother an icy look that makes my heart skip a beat, and the women purse their lips in jealousy.
Christos meets my gaze and motions toward the restaurant door. I follow him. He towers over me as I step through the door he holds open for me. I can smell him. He smells different. More…dangerous.
Familiar but new.
We shuffle inside, and the maître d' appears. “Mr. Christos, a pleasure as always. Your table is ready.”
“We’ll be five tonight, David,” he requests.
“Oh, of course! One minute.” The man hustles to accommodate him.
“Are you certain?” I ask out loud.
“Completely,” Cole answers.
But when my face still shows doubt, Christos turns and says, “I insist.” His eyes meet mine, and as they do, a subtle electric current passes through me.
“So are you two friends?” Christos’s date asks a bit snottily.
“High school,” Christos says as we wait to be led to our table.
I edge closer to Cole and push onto my tiptoes. “She’s beautiful. Is that why he likes her? She’s like model beautiful,” I say, trying to keep my voice low.
He leans over, laughter in his voice as he nods with mock somberness. “She swears that while God took seven days in creating the world, Aaric would’ve taken six.” He winks as he straightens.
I realize Aaric is watching us, and as his date speaks to the other girl, I say, “Sounds like she dotes on you.”
His brows shoot upwards in amusement, and though he’s not smiling, his eyes begin to dance devilishly. “You two were talking about me.”
Lightning fast, a warm flush runs up my face, and I quickly change the subject. “Anyway. Should I tell you about my business?” I say.
God, he’s enjoying this. Isn’t he?
He starts to follow the maître d' to our table, pushing his fingers into my back to urge me forward with one hand, while doing the same to his date with the other. “Not until I’m interested,” he leans down to say in my ear.
“But— that doesn’t even make sense.” I frown and walk forward as he guides me.
“You’re part of the business,” he says.
“Yes. I am. What? You don’t want to do business with me…your little bit?” I ask in disbelief.
He shakes his head, his tone tender but rueful. “You’re not my little bit.” His thumb caresses my bare back, and a host of tingles climb up my spine and neck.
“For old times’ sake.” He pulls out my seat, not answering. “Christos!” I hiss as he turns to his date. He helps her with her chair then takes a seat beside me.
He leans close to me. “Can you relax and enjoy yourself without talking business?”
He raises his eyebrows, challenging.
I stare at his hard male chest and his thick throat, my head spinning dizzily at his words. He’s so close I can smell the soap and shampoo on his skin and hair, the cologne drifting from somewhere around him.
“Excuse me while I go freshen up in the ladies’.” I inhale deeply and push away from the table.
I enter the bathroom, but instead of heading for a stall, I stop at the sink and stare at myself in the mirror.
He really pushes my buttons, this man.
Even in school. He was the first workaholic I’d ever met. Fixed everyone’s phones, cars, and even sold tests. He was a little bit too bad, and I was a little bit too good. He was a demon in the making and I was still Daddy’s little angel. I suppose it was my fault that we never…that…well, I just could never believe he might actually want me. Not for keeps. I was too afraid to get hurt.
I wash my hands, splash some cold water on my neck, and then head back to the table. I try not to stumble when I watch Christos lift his head from his conversation and quietly watch me return, that unreadable, dark gaze on me.
I slide into my seat while conversation continues between the women and Cole—
“—so there’s this endless line of people, and I…”
Aaric’s hand is curved around his wine and his thumb is stroking the glass. Up and down.
“So what brings you to the city?” Cole asks me when his date finishes with her anecdote.
“Business. I’ve been in town for six weeks.”
“Good.”
Christos moves his head closer to me and leans forward, as if to exclude the others from our conversation.
“Plan to stay?” he asks, gruffly.
I tilt my head to meet his gaze.
“I’m living in Nolita with a friend. I have a gig dog walking since waitressing is not my thing. I’m looking for an investor for my startup and was hoping you would see me again.”
“Call his office,” Cole interrupts.
I look up at his handsome, but less intimidating, brother and smile. “I already did.”
Christos digs a hand into his suit pocket and places a sleek white-and-silver letter card before my place setting. “Call again.” Christos meets my gaze and holds it, some sort of warning in his gaze.
I’m not sure what he’s warning me about.
That I need to be persistent?
Or that I need to be sure that I want to do business with him?
That maybe our close proximity…
“—right, Christos? The best startups you’ve ever funded have always come to you unawares.”
“Best things always creep up on you,” he agrees.
I smile, but my smile falters when his date snuggles up to his side as if she thinks he was talking about her.
I tremble as I take his card and tuck it into my pocket.
“What happened to Kelly’s, Bryn?” he asks me, once again turning to speak to me in a low voice, as if wanting to exclude everyone.
“Bankruptcy. We couldn’t keep it.”
He looks at me and I see concern in his eyes, but I look away because his judgement is unbearable.
If he doesn’t like my idea, what will I do?
I’d always thought I’d work at the Kelly department stores.
Christos must notice how uncomfortable admitting Kelly’s fall was, because the rest of the evening he engages in conversation with everyone else—no more lowering his voice for one-on-one talks with me. Even Cole sent me a sad smile but made sure to drop the subject.
By the time dinner is over, I definitely feel like a fifth wheel. A part of me wishes I were alone with Christos so I can talk to him, but another part of me feels vulnerable with him. Does he remember what it’s like to hustle or has all the success taken that away?
After dinner, we step under the awning again. “Take you home?” Christos asks me as his black car pulls up to the curb. He asks me casually, but his gaze is intent, more demanding than his tone.
“Oh no, I’ll walk. Thank you. Goodnight.” I say my goodbyes and his possessive, protective stare burns into my back as I head down the block.
Walking to Nolita, I push in my earbuds and replay the meeting with a ball in my stomach. Christos’s voice, quietly asking me, What happened?
I don’t know why the concern in his eyes got to me, enough I thought I’d sort of lose my cool.
I’m sure he wanted to know more about what happened, and maybe even if I was okay. He could have hardly missed the news shortly after my parents’ death: that our department stores defaulted and had to declare bankruptcy. They were taken over. Everyone thought I had money from my parents that I could use to recover it. I didn’t. Now the Kelly stores belong to a huge conglomerate—someone who doesn’t have Kelly as their last name.
It hurts to lose the store your family built so shortly after you lost your whole family. I remember how I would work in the warehouses every weekend…open the stores with my dad every morning…But despite the good memories, I know that Kelly’s would have held me back in Austin, and now I have an opportunity to start something new.
I didn’t really lose Kelly—all that I learned from it is still with me.
It’s been six weeks since I arrived in New York. I’ve done things I’ve never done in my life—and I’d never have been able to come this far if it hadn’t been for the hard work and dedication that my parents instilled in me when I was young. I feel confident that I’m becoming my own woman, that my life has something better in store.
I wanted to tell him that, but I was afraid my voice would betray me—and the last thing I want is Christo’s pity. I want his help, but I’d die if I saw pity in his eyes. He would have hardly known that the pain in my voice would have been due to the loss of my parents, not the loss of the business they’d built. Because losing Kelly’s opened up opportunities for me I’d never seen before, and I’m learning to see the loss as a blessing.
When I arrive at my apartment, I hear sniffling and I peer into the small living room and find Sara on the living room couch, her hair a mess, another mess of used tissues on the side table we use as a small coffee table. “What happened?” I ask.
“I got fired.” She looks up from a tissue, her face breaks. “I had no idea they’d start making cuts and I’d be the first to go.” She blows her nose and tosses the tissue down in a ball to join the others. “What am I going to do?”
I grab a wastebasket, toss in all the tissue balls and the empty box of tissues, and set a fresh box before her. “You’ll get a new job.” I sit down beside her.
“It’s not that easy—”
“You can walk dogs with me.”
“That’s your gig.”
“I’ll split it with you. I won’t be able to dedicate as much time to it as I want to—I’ll be too busy working on the startup.”
“Really? How are you so confident you’ll get the money?”
“Because I saw him again tonight. And I’m hoping I can wear him down.”
“It’s not wishful thinking? Sorry to break it to you, roomie, but half of the city wants this man’s backing. Everyone thinks they have a genius idea or wants someone who’ll help them make their stupid idea genius.”
“Maybe. But I still mean to wear him down.” I grin, pour two cups of tea, and then hand one over to her. “You okay?”
“I don’t know,” she says, smiling wanly at me, as if thankful I asked. “I just can’t figure out what’s gone wrong with my life.” She rubs the tissue along her nose and crumples it up only to get a new one. “I went to ballet school. I broke my ankle just before graduation. So with ballet no longer an option, I tried Broadway. Two years and nothing. So I become a concierge, and even then, something supposedly easy, I fail.”
“You didn’t fail, Sara. It wasn’t your end game, it was your in-the-meantime job.”
“Yeah, well.” She hikes up one shoulder in a sad shrug. “I’m starting to wonder if most of us aren’t destined to be stuck in our in-the-meantime.”
I don’t know what to say. I wonder that too. “I may agree,” I say. “But then you see someone, someone who had it worse than anyone, and who made it big. Not because he got lucky—he worked for it. It makes sense that if we work hard enough, we can go somewhere too.”
“You really like this guy,” she says, eyes flaring as if it’s just dawning on her that I really do know Christos. And like him, like she says.
“No. I mean…” I quickly interject. “I admire him. We were in high school when we met, and I admired his gumption. I suppose I liked him too,” I finally admit, “but I could never understand how he made me feel. I guess I liked him enough that it confused me.” I shake my head violently. “But enough about that. I’m excited about the startup. If this takes off and you don’t have a job, I’ll hire you.”
“When do I start?” she smirks.
“Who knows? Call God’s number and ask?” I show her Christos’s card, then notice the surprise on her face and laugh.
“Give me that,” she says when I pry it back.
“Over my dead BOOTY. It’s my Golden Ticket and I’m not giving it up even to you. I’ll give you some of my chocolate, though.” I pull out the Godiva chocolate I have stashed away in my nightstand and toss it in her lap. Sara groans happily. “Do we have any ice cream?”
“Anything else?” I ask as I pull out an ice cream tub from the fridge and bring it over, along with two spoons.
“Yes. Can I adopt you?” she asks as she sits straight when I join her on the couch.
“Come on. I’m two years older than you are.” I roll my eyes and we sit together, eating ice cream while she thinks of her job, and I think of Christos.
“I know what else I’m missing. Confidence. I seem to have lost it somewhere,” she says, frowning thoughtfully at our silent TV screen.
“I have confidence in you,” I counter.
“Good. ’Cause I have confidence in you too. Boss.” She grins, the tissues forgotten.
After binging on chocolate and ice cream, I fall asleep with my laptop on my bed, my designs scattered around, and an image of Christos telling me he wants it.