Chapter Sixteen

Chase

I wound up having a hell of a night with Charlie and Nolan. An incredible hostess, Charlie whipped up a gourmet meal of steak, asparagus with hollandaise, and homemade crème brûlée. After a couple bottles of wine, she’d charmed Nolan and me into telling stories from our fraternity days. Charlie was a cool chick. Secure enough in herself and her marriage that she could listen to crazy college pranks and tall tales without a negative reaction.

Not that I’d told Chastity much about my own scores, but I couldn’t ever get a read on her. Would she flip out if I told her about the time Nolan and I Eiffel-Towered a Victoria’s Secret angel? Or what about the time Nolan had hired four hookers at once for my twenty-fifth birthday? Ick. I was getting too old for that shit. Best not to tell anyone about past sexual exploits.

With a snort, I hauled myself out of bed and padded down the hallway. My laptop was open on top of my desk, and I sat down as I rubbed the last, stubborn crumbs of sleep from my eyes.

“Twenty-eight new emails.” I groaned as soon as my email loaded. I couldn’t believe it – I’d checked it right before going to bed. Most of them were junk, of course, but after I’d filtered through the ads from Saks and Bloomingdales, a familiar name leapt out at me.

My mouth went dry as I clicked on the email and scanned through.

Hi Chase,

I’ve been thinking about you a lot. About us. I bet you’re surprised to hear from me after all these years, huh? We have a lot to talk about, and I feel like we need some closure. Feel like brunch on Saturday? I know it’s short notice, but it would mean the world to me if we could meet.

Amanda

XXX OOO

Closure? For who? Amanda hadn’t even considered closure back when she opened her legs for some other dudes cock all the while my ring was on her fucking finger. I sank against the back of my chair and slapped my forehead with my right hand, my heart about to explode out of my throbbing chest. Amanda. Of course. Amanda Fucking Kimble. Also known as the Wicked Witch of Harvard. The bitch who broke my heart and ruined my life. I’d caught her in bed with my roommate, and even though Nolan had assured me at the time that I’d dodged a bullet, I’d hurt for months after she’d left.

Years.

The bitch had forced me to flee NYC and travel the globe all in a futile attempt to eradicate her from my mind and heart. It hadn’t worked. Only coming home and working at Banks had managed to dull the ache. And Chastity. She was like a breath of fresh air after Amanda. No gold digging or false pretenses there.

I slammed my laptop shut and picked up my phone with trembling hands. Seconds later, Nolan grunted a hello. I grinned – he’d never been a morning person, and I had the sudden feeling that I’d caught him just before his morning coffee.

“Hey,” I said. “Can you meet for coffee?”

Nolan groaned. “No.” Irritation laced the single syllable. “My assistant is out this week, and I actually have to go pick up my fucking dry cleaning before I make it into the office.”

I sighed. Shit. I did not want to discuss this over the phone. Nut up, I told myself. You’re a man, not some stupid kid anymore. I hated the sensations that took hold of my body each time I thought of Amanda. It wasn’t fucking fair. Every time I thought of her, I was back to being a frat boy with no game. And a shattered heart.

“What happened?” Nolan groaned. “I mean, something’s the fucking matter, isn’t it?”

“Amanda emailed me,” I said, keeping my tone devoid of expression lest Nolan rub my face in it. “Says she wants to meet up. For closure, she says.”

Nolan laughed. “Don’t fuckin’ do it, man,” he said. “You’ve got a good thing going with Chastity right now. Don’t fuck this up for a cheap piece of shit that couldn’t keep her thong on. I know I’ve told you before, but it bears repeating. You’re above her. Don’t let her get her claws in you again.”

I frowned. “What the hell happened to the man who used to tell me to go out and grab what I wanted by the balls?”

“He’s tired,” Nolan said, and a long-suffering sigh rocketed through my iPhone. “Seriously, man. She’s fucked you up again just by emailing you. Imagine how much it would wreck your shit to see her. In the flesh. She’s beautiful for sure, but what else does she bring to the table besides cheating with a side of pain?”

“She wanted to have brunch,” I said, finally letting my disgust burst through the corral to gallop full speed toward my best friend.

Nolan didn’t miss a beat. “More like she wants you to bankroll her bottomless mimosas,” Nolan snapped. “Chase, this is a bad fucking idea. I know you called me for advice, but it’s more like talking you down from the ledge. She’s the Empire State Building, and you’re the jumper. I wouldn’t do it if I were you.”

I raked a hand through my unruly hair. “What if she really does just want closure? Closure’s good, right? I could use some closure, too, if for nothing else than to tell her to fuck off.”

Nolan snorted. “Women don’t want closure,” he said. “They want to make you sweat. And she’s already doing that, Chase. Don’t fuckin’ pay attention to her anymore. You’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime. Stick a fork in that woman. She’s done.”

By the time we hung up, I’d agreed not to see her – for brunch. Heart pounding and palms sweating, I couldn’t stop myself from opening up my laptop and typing a short reply.

Amanda,

One drink. Per Se – tonight. Seven thirty. Don’t be fucking late or I’m walking.

C

***

Chastity

Exhaustion permeated every cell the next day at work. Probably because I hadn’t slept in days. No more than a restless cat nap every night in my lonely bed. I missed Chase – I hadn’t really spoken to him since that day in the park. He’d sent me emails and texts, but I hadn’t answered. I’d picked a fight and held my ground over something so unimportant it shouldn’t even have been a discussion. The truth was I’d acted like a naïve college girl having a tiff with her equally naïve college boyfriend. And Chase Bradenton was anything but. He was a corporate real estate professional. Classy. And all man.

Angela and I had dinner together last night, just leftovers at her place. It was hard to believe how comfortable I felt with my new friend after only knowing her for a couple of weeks. I’d never been one of those people who could spill secrets, but Angela had a way about her that made talking easy. She did everything right – made sympathetic noises at all the right times, asked me questions, and made me feel like I had something worth saying.

Like she cared. About me.

Work breezed by. I barely noticed when the clock struck five-fifteen. I’d been planning to go home and hang out with Trouble while catching up on my studies. But suddenly, I was struck with the idea of how much I wanted to see Chase. Apologize and beg his forgiveness. In my mind, I imagined him grabbing me by my shirt front and slamming me against him for a searing kiss. And more. So much more. I closed my eyes and shivered, imagining the way his hands felt on my bare skin. The memory of his musky scent flooded my panties underneath my plain pencil skirt.

Licking my lips, I checked my appearance in my purse mirror. I didn’t look great – blotchy and kind of tired under the fluorescent lights – but I didn’t have anything with me other than blotting papers. They’d have to do.

Five minutes later, I sashayed through the hall of the executive floor, my pumps silent on the plush carpet. Chase’s office door was closed, but his elderly secretary, Myrna, was faithfully stationed out front.

“Hi,” I said. I grinned at her. Myrna didn’t return the smile. “Can I talk to Mr. Bradenton?”

Myrna narrowed her eyes. I tried not to stare at the smudge of bright coral lipstick on her yellowing teeth. Her horn-rimmed glasses hung around her neck from a silver chain. “Do you have an appointment?”

I shook my head, feeling foolish. God, I shouldn’t have come up here. What in the hell was I thinking? If he wanted to see me, he would have come down. Every expert says never to chase a man down. Ach.

“No, but I thought Banks had an open-door policy. I didn’t realize I needed an appointment, especially after office hours.” Myrna glared at me, not giving an inch. Rather like a pit bull in seventies tailored tweed. “I mean, I think Mr. Bradenton would want to see me.” I tried to smile again, despite feeling weaker than I had just a second ago. In fact, I felt like throwing up all over her sensible nude Rockports.

“Well, you’re too late. Mr. Bradenton has left for the day,” Myrna said. “Would you like to make an appointment?”

I frowned. Why did he leave without coming to find me? Is he still mad at me? My stomach twisted and turned, and I gripped the edge of Myrna’s desk, suddenly afraid that I was going to be sick or pass out. I eyed the perimeter for a chair in case I needed to sit down and put my head between my legs.

“Well?” Myrna tapped the desk with her long fingernails. I cringed at the sight of her chipped coral polish. “Would you? Like to make an appointment, miss?”

“Is he free tomorrow morning?” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “Can I see him then?”

Myrna made a clicking noise with her tongue as she stared at her computer screen. “Mr. Bradenton has an opening on Wednesday,” she said. “Would you like ten in the morning or right after lunch?”

Relief washed over me in a great wave. “Ten would be great.” I smiled to myself knowing that in less than twelve hours, everything would be back to normal with me and Chase. First of all, I was going to apologize. Then, I’d–

“Be here at ten sharp on the thirteenth,” Myrna said.

I stared. “Today’s the fifth,” I said slowly, not sure I understood. “And Wednesday, tomorrow, is the sixth.”

“And Mr. Bradenton doesn’t have any openings until next Wednesday,” Myrna drawled. “Well? Do you want the appointment or not?”

I spun on my heel without answering her and fled. Fortunately, I managed to hold it together until I got into the elevator. When my eyes filled with tears, I blinked them back and stared at the ceiling. I didn’t even notice the doors pinging open.

“Hey!” Angela shrieked. “Oh my god, are you okay?” She wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into a hug. I’ve never been a hugger, but something about the human comfort felt too good to pass up. Before I knew it, my face was buried in her neck as great heaving sobs wracked my body.

Angela didn’t even know what was wrong. As soon as we got down to the street level, she shaded her eyes from the sun with her hand and looked deeply into my face.

“You’re coming over,” she announced. “I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is calls for a girls’ night.” She grinned. “Would that help? I’ve got wine. And carbs.”

I sighed as I tried to compose myself. The bright sun hurt my red and swollen eyes. “I really should study,” I mumbled. But to be honest, the idea of going home and facing Trina wasn’t exactly filling me with excitement. “But yeah, it does sound good.” I was suddenly worried that I’d be rejected for the second time that day. I needed to go with Angela. For my sanity.

“Perfect,” Angela said. “Come on.” She dragged me over to a cab. “We’re going to have a great time, Chastity.”

I started to feel better by the time we got to Angela’s apartment thirty minutes later. She lived in Bushwick, a much trendier Brooklyn neighborhood than Crown Heights. I gasped when I walked into her apartment. It was picture perfect – vintage hardwood floors, skylights, she even had a loft. The green-eyed monster made an appearance, and I pushed it back so as not to offend Angela.

“This is beautiful,” I said, tilting my head back and staring at the ceiling. “Holy shit, how do you afford this?” I blushed. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Don’t answer that.”

Angela grinned. “Working my ass off at Banks Realty,” she said. She pressed a glass of wine in my hand. “You like Cupcake Red Velvet?”

“It’s my favorite,” I told her honestly. The wine tasted good – cheap, sweet, and just like the cake I wanted to stuff my face with.

“I don’t have too many snacks, but the ones I do have are carbohydrate rich, perfect for what ails you,” Angela called from the kitchen. “Combos and Sun Chips. And Cheetos. Do you want to order a pizza? Or we could call out for ice cream to the corner deli.”

My stomach rumbled, and I burst out laughing. “You’re crazy,” I told her. “Those are like, my favorite snack foods of all time, especially the Cheetos.”

Angela reappeared with a grin and two giant bags of junk food. As we settled ourselves in her living room, she clinked her glass against mine.

“I’m sorry you had a fight with Chase,” she said. “But this is fun. I’m glad you’re here. I can’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend over. To friendship!”

I smiled weakly. “To friendship,” I repeated. We clinked and drank. I savored the sweet taste all the way down, welcoming the heat of the alcohol as it settled into my veins. “Hey,” I said. “I didn’t tell you about Chase. How did you know?”

Angela took a sip. “I didn’t for sure,” she said. “But I saw you in the elevator and figured you were coming down from the executive floor. Plus, you looked like you were about to throw up, you were so upset. I couldn’t let that happen, could I? Men. Why do they have to be such pigs? Especially the rich and hot ones.”

My cheeks burned red as I stared into my wine. “Thanks for the shoulder to cry on,” I mumbled. “Really. You’re being so nice to me. I wish I knew why.”

“Because you’re my friend, duh,” Angela said with a big grin. “And what are friends for? Us girls have to stick together.”

I smiled as I checked my phone for the millionth time. I’d texted Chase to let him know I wanted to talk and added a kissy face with a little wink. It wasn’t much, but I’d debated sending the text for almost an hour in my head. But the Cupcake Red Velvet did the trick, and soon I’d hit send. I’d even added a cute Bitmoji of me in a sailor outfit.

As the night went on, I couldn’t believe how much fun I was having with Angela. It had been ages since Trina and I had talked like besties, spilling secrets and sharing everything. I thought that maybe, now that I had a real big girl job that I could keep after graduating from Hunter, I should probably start branching out my social circle. I mean, Trina had been a great college friend. But I couldn’t help but think she was probably the kind of girl who’d be doing keg stands until she turned thirty.

Angela was different. She was brassy, obviously, and very extroverted. But she was also driven. I knew that even though she’d only been at Banks a little longer than I had, she already knew everything. Her head was like a Wikipedia for everything Banks, and I couldn’t help but admire her for it. I’d always been proud of my near-photographic memory, but Angela was obviously just as smart as I was. Maybe even smarter.

My phone buzzed, and I reached for it in excitement. When I saw the name on the screen, I groaned.

“Who is it?” Angela practically leaned into my lap and looked at my phone. “Who’s Trina? Chastity, is everything okay?”

I nodded miserably. “She’s my roommate,” I said. “And Chase still hasn’t texted me back.”

“Oh, Mr. Bradenton, pull your head out of your sculpted ass,” Angela sniffed. “Sex and the City or Real Housewives?”

My heart plummeted as I checked my texts once more. Still nothing. It’s over, a cruel voice in my head whispered. He only wanted to pop your cherry. You should’ve known better, Sexe.

“Sex and the City.”

Angela smiled. “Got it,” she said. “And don’t worry about Chase,” she added. “He’s an idiot if he thinks he’s better off without you.”

I nodded, but inside, I was numb.