Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Beautiful Sinners: Secrets, Lies and Revelations
Pamela L. Todd
Excerpt
Chapter One
As always, the food at Per Se was out of this world. The restaurant drew in a different class of clientele, a certain pedigree who only wanted the best. Situated in Midtown, it was elegant and intimate without being overly pretentious—crisp white linens, sparkling hardwood floors and wide, clear windows that showed off stellar views of Central Park and Columbus Circle. Tonight was a beautiful night, the city flung out before us like a perfect, twinkly Van Gogh painting.
I felt like a million bucks in my vintage Dior black cocktail dress. The deep V neckline flattered my modest chest, the fitted waist and back criss-cross straps gave it a sexy edge without being overt. And the front pleat that made the material swish when I walked was just for fun. The man sitting across from me looked like he dined in this kind of restaurant every night of his life. Which, incidentally, he pretty much did.
Marcus Tate was a thirty-two-year-old investment banker for a leading firm in the city. He was the youngest broker to have scored top figures for his clients, resulting in a hefty pay packet for himself and an arrogance that came from building yourself up and knowing you were the shit. That, and he was hung like a boss. His face was nice to look at, too.
We’d met a few months ago at the Met and had hit it off after discovering our mutual hatred for the tourists that crowded all the best displays. Tonight marked our five-month anniversary and I couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the evening would bring. Marcus was the kind of guy who liked to throw his money around. So far in our romance he’d spoiled me rotten, whisking me away for long weekends, buying me jewelry and shoes. Marcus was, without a doubt, my ultimate Prince Charming.
Once our table was cleared after dessert, Marcus shifted in his seat. He finished the rest of his wine in one gulp. “I had a specific reason for inviting you here tonight,” Marcus said as he met my eye.
“Our anniversary wasn’t enough?” I asked, giving him a playful smile.
Marcus blinked. His face took on a rosy hue and he nodded. “Our anniversary. Of course.” He blew out a breath and shifted in his chair again.
Man, he’s nervous tonight. Oh, God. Marcus was never nervous. Like, ever. So it stood to reason that whatever he was trying to say was a doozy. Oh my God… Was he—was Marcus about to propose?
“Hayley, these last few months have flown by. It feels like I’ve hardly blinked and yet here we are, five months in. You’re fun and energetic, and I love that fire you have inside you.”
Remember every second of this—don’t you dare forget!
“It’s time I got serious. I’m facing a promising career and my responsibilities are only going to increase. I’m not a stupid kid anymore and it’s time I stopped acting like it. Which is why I’m breaking up with you.”
I gasped and pressed a hand to my chest, my eyes filling. A girlish laugh lodged in my throat and—wait a second, did he say break up? Marcus was breaking up with me?
“I really care for you, Hayley, but we were never going to be serious. And it’s time that I was. I can’t dick around for another few years—I need to settle down.” Marcus gave me a kind smile that made me want to punch him in the throat. “And you’re not the kind of girl who settles down.”
“I’m sorry, I just want to check something since my brain and my ears seem to be arguing with each other—you want to break up with me because you want to settle down…just not with someone like me?” I asked. This couldn’t be happening. Marcus was perfect for me, in that lukewarm, affectionate kind of way. He was the epitome of everything I had ever wanted for myself…and now he was ending it?
“Yes, exactly.”
“What the fuck?” I exclaimed, louder than I’d intended. A few curious stares were sent our way and I guessed this was the exact reason I wasn’t the kind to settle down with. “Are you seriously breaking up with me on our five-month anniversary?”
Marcus tapped his fingers on the table. “Come on, that isn’t even a real thing.”
“Of course it is!” I huffed. “What, so, are first kiss anniversaries not a real thing either? Or the one-month anniversary of the first time we slept together? Because I seem to remember how enthusiastically you enjoyed that one.”
All humor drained from Marcus’ face. “Hayley—”
“For chrissake, Marcus, my dad was the mayor of New Haven! My mom’s family comes from old railroad money. I’m not a goddamn nobody.” I drew in a quick breath and clenched my hands into fists to stop them shaking. Christ, had I really just said that? What an idiot. It was totally true, though—my family was extremely well respected back home. We had a comfortable life that I—most of the time, anyway—didn’t take for granted. It allowed me to do pretty much whatever I wanted here in the city.
“It’s not about status,” Marcus said, lifting his hand in a bid to get me to lower my voice. “Hell, your background is half the reason—” He stopped himself mid-sentence.
A surprising calmness settled in my blood as I pinned him with my stare. “Half the reason you what, Marcus?”
He shook his head and seemed to decide against finishing the sentence. “You’re not a serious girl, Hayley. How many nights out a week do you have? Half the time you aren’t even home before dawn. I’m sorry, but I left that behind in my twenties.”
Our waiter approached the table with his hands clasped behind his back. “Can I get you anything else this evening?”
Marcus opened his mouth to answer, but I beat him to the punch. “Actually, yes, we’ll take the Barbaresco. The 2011 Gaja, I think, will do nicely.”
“Of course. Glass or the bottle?”
I winked at Marcus. “Oh, the bottle, please. We are celebrating, after all.”
The waiter nodded. “May I ask what the occasion is?”
“It’s a double actually—our five-month anniversary, and also our breakup.” I wrinkled my nose in a ‘how cute is that’ sort of way.
He glanced between Marcus and me for a second. “Coming right up.”
Wise man.
Once the waiter was out of earshot, Marcus’ polite smile fell and he shot me a hard glare. “A four-hundred-dollar bottle of wine? Really?”
I shrugged and flashed him a carefree, happy, not-the-type-to-settle-down grin. “Call it a parting gift.”
And so we sat in tense silence while I drank most of that damn bottle. It was too dry for my taste, not something I’d usually choose. But it was the principle of the matter. Marcus settled the bill and walked me out of the restaurant with his hand on the small of my back.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Marcus,” I said, pulling my phone out of my purse.
“You too, Hayley,” Marcus said quietly before slipping away. To avoid another scene, no doubt.
Giving him a jaunty salute, I dialed Eve’s number and looked down the street for a cab with its light on.
“Hey, girl,” Eve said as she answered, a blast of club music behind her. “Aren’t you out on the super romantic not-really-an-anniversary dinner with Marcus?”
I snorted. Whatever. Five months totally qualified for an anniversary. “Yeah, during which he dumped me. In the middle of Per Se.”
Eve gasped. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope. Where are you guys tonight? I so need my girls.” I just wished my main girl was here. But no. She was living it up in Vegas with the love of her life.
Eve giggled. “We’re at Industry. Are you coming out?”
A cab pulled up at the curb in front of me and I paused with my hand on the door. “The gay bar in Hell’s Kitchen?”
“One and the same. Get your ass down here, girl. See you in a few.” Eve disconnected the call before I could even argue. Not that I wanted to.
What was the one thing that was sure to cheer a girl up after getting her ass dumped by the guy who was so not her Prince Charming? Dancing the night away with ridiculously hot men who wanted nothing more than to compliment her fabulous vintage dress.
Hot guys. No pressure. I was so there.