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The Duke of New York: A Contemporary Bad Boy Royal Romance by Lisa Lace (65)

Sophie

When I arrive at Lena’s place, she leads me straight upstairs to her bedroom to show me a selection of three dresses. “What do you think? Which one?”

“What’s it for?”

A devilish grin appears on her face. “Well, little sister, I have some good news! Work on restaurant number six has just finished. It’ll open next month. I’m throwing a staff party to celebrate.”

“That sounds like fun! What kind of event?”

“Something a bit fancy! I was thinking I’d hire a nice venue and do some kind of black tie event with an open bar. What do you think?”

“Sounds great. Can I come?”

“You’d better. There will be dozens of available men there.”

I laugh. “I was wondering when you’d start with this again.”

“It’s been four months.”

“I know.”

“They say that the amount of time it takes to get over someone is half the length of the relationship. So this time around, you should have gotten over Cole in roughly two months, and I’ve given you four. That’s generous, considering you got ten years the last time.”

I smile, even though it still feels raw. I’m glad to have Lena to distract me. It’s fun to joke around with her, even if I don’t have any plans to meet someone new. “I’ve got some good news, too.”

Lena spins around with a huge grin on her face. “The promotion?”

I beam back. “I got it!”

She drops the dress she’s holding and sweeps me up into a huge, congratulatory hug. “Well done! I’m so proud of you! We’re going to celebrate tonight.”

“A bottle of wine?”

“Pfft! I’m taking you out on the town.”

I laugh. “Out on the town? We haven’t done that since before you met James.”

“Tonight, I’m feeling it. After all, only one of these dresses is for the staff party, which means there are two available dresses for us tonight.”

I look down at the two designer dresses and make a face. “I wouldn’t dare wear one of those. They probably cost a gazillion dollars each.”

“And you’ll look like a gazillion dollars in one. Come on, Sophie. When was the last time you let your hair down?”

“It’s been a while.”

“Then it’s decided. It’s Friday night, and we’re going to celebrate. James has kindly offered to be designated driver and pick us up later.”

“You’d already planned this with James?”

She chuckles. “No. But I know he’ll be happy to oblige.”

“Fuck it,” I say, throwing one hand up in the air. “Let’s do it.”

Lena does a fist pump, which clashes with her clean-cut, business-chic look today. “Yes!

I laugh. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Let’s hit the town and see where the night takes us. I’m craving cocktails. First though, let’s eat. Every girl knows not to go drinking on an empty stomach. I’m going to order a couple of pizzas.”

“Mmm. Pizza sounds good.”

“You look like you’ve lost a little weight, you know.”

“Really?” I smile, running my hand over my stomach curiously. “That’s good. I’ve been trying to cut back. I’ve been going running, too.”

Lena smiles broadly. “That’s great, Sophie. I was starting to worry about you for a while there. I’m glad that you’re pulling yourself out of your funk.”

“It’s been four months. Cole’s not coming back. I need to get on with life. Besides, I’ve got a new role now. I’m going to be in all kinds of meetings and whatnot. I need to be looking my best.”

“Ooh, it’s so exciting! My sister, the little superstar. Here, try this on.” She chucks a lavender number that looks like a 1920s flapper girl dress at me. It’s covered in layers of fine tassels.

“Really?”

“It’s in fashion!”

I believe her. Lena is a Vogue devotee.

I try it on, then shimmy in front of the mirror. It’s not something I’d usually wear, but I kind of like the way the tassels shake when I move. I experimentally wiggle my hips and laugh at my reflection. “It’s quite fun, actually.”

“It’ll give you a reason to shake that booty on the dancefloor.” She pats my bum playfully.

I laugh. “We’re going dancing now, are we?”

“We’re going to have some fun.”

* * *

I haven’t gone for a girls’ night out on the town in forever, and it feels good to be standing at a bar with a mojito in my hand. I take a sip, letting the warm rum and cool mint and lime slide down my throat. I have a pleasant buzz.

We’ve ended up in Black Flamingo in Brooklyn. It’s a trendy spot with orange neon lights on the walls and a large bar with plenty of room to order drinks. It’s already packed to the rafters with clubbers, and the last of the diners in the restaurant are filing out. People are milling around the bar. Lena and I move away to get some breathing room.

Some kind of trance music bellows through the speakers. Lena is already swaying to the beat with one hand in the air. I’m more conservative, cradling my mojito and looking around curiously. I feel out-of-place.

A girl looking like she’s just come from a rave walks past, wearing a neon yellow vest-top and calf-high furry boots with her hair in colored dreadlocks. I see a lot of beanies and man-buns, and a lot of younger patrons who don’t look twenty-one.

“I feel old.”

“WHAT?”

“I FEEL OLD.”

“Start dancing—it helps!”

I sway my hips to the music as best I can. It does feel good. The rum in the mojito and the satisfying shimmy of my tasseled dress help me to unwind. Before long, Lena and I are having a whale of a time. I feel young.

After about an hour of dancing, two men approach us. They’re both average to handsome. One is taller and dark-haired; the other is slightly shorter and red-headed.

The redhead leans in toward me and raises his voice into my ear. “Can I buy you a drink?”

I’m taken aback and laugh. I can’t remember the last time a stranger offered to buy me a drink. I look around just in case he’s actually talking to someone else, but, sure enough, he’s asking me.

I suppose we’re not too dissimilar in age. The redhead is probably in his early thirties. I look over to Lena and see that the dark-haired guy is speaking into her ear, too. Lena catches my eye, grins, and puts her thumbs up.

I turn back to the redhead. “Okay.”

“Mojito?”

“Thanks.”

He leaves to get a drink and my stomach knots with nerves. Whenever I’m with Lena, I always end up doing something I usually wouldn’t.

She’s dancing alone again now. The guy talking to her seemed less interested once she’d shown him her wedding ring, but she’s happy to take a step back. She hangs out by the DJ and watches from a distance as the redhead returns. This was her plan all along.

“I’m Vic.”

“Sophie.”

We have to shout at each other to be heard, so neither of us says anything more. Vic starts to dance close to me, moving his body close to mine. I dance with him but try to keep a respectable distance between us.

When the second mojito kicks in—on top of the drinks we had elsewhere—I let our bodies make more contact. I link my hands together behind his neck and let him put his hands on my hips. We swing side to side to the beat. I shimmy in my purple dress. I see him admiring me. It feels kind of good.

Then, he leans in for a kiss, and panic kicks in. I instinctively press my hand against his chest and push him away. “I better find my sister. Thanks for the drink.”

I squirm my way through the crowd and back to Lena, who’s seen the whole thing. She looks disappointed. “What happened?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

We keep dancing, but it’s not as much fun as before. A man trying to kiss me only makes me think of Cole. I wonder if he’s still in Syria. I’ve taken Lena’s advice and stopped reading the papers.

I down the last of my mojito and grab Lena’s hands to dance, hoping it will ward off any more potential suitors.

I’m not ready for anyone else. I’m not over Cole.