Chapter Two
Chase
I took the rocks glass from Luca’s hand. “Don’t drink too much, you know she likes us sharp-witted and even sharper-tongued.” My best friend glared at me but didn’t argue.
He knew I was right.
I didn’t blame him, hell I wanted to join him. I would give anything to drown my nerves in a bottle of, well anything.
“How are you so calm?” Luca asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and giving the ballroom yet another once-over glance.
I wasn’t. I just had a good poker face and Luca knew it.
“Fuck, Chase I gotta get outta here. I can’t take this.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You know debs have to make an entrance. She’s just late. Settle the hell down, all right?”
“Look, man, the way I see it there are only three outcomes. One, she’s not showing. Two, she does show and rejects us— again. Or three, she shows and we live happily ever after.” Luca shook his head. “I don’t like those odds. I’m getting the hell out of here.”
Luca had been my best friend since grade school. I knew him like I knew myself. And right now I knew he needed a kick in the ass. “Get yourself together. She’s coming. You know it, I know it. She’ll be here and she’s going to give us an answer. Now stand there and try to look like you’re having a good time. It’s a party for Christ’s sake, not a damn funeral.”
Luca threw me another dirty look and crossed his arms. He definitely didn’t look like he was having a good time, but at least he didn’t look like a flight risk anymore.
It was absolutely insane that one woman could make us so crazy, drive us so completely mad with desire that we agreed to wait months for her decision. Today was the anniversary of our first encounter with Abigail. It hadn’t been the first time we shared a woman— we’d discovered that in college when we kept coming to blows over the same girls— but it was the first time a woman had stolen our hearts. It was the first time being with a woman had been anything more than physical for us. Abigail was so smart, so beautiful, and so damn incredible in bed, Luca and I knew we were done looking.
So after a few months of covert dating, we asked her, from the comfort of our shared bedroom, to make us the happiest men in the world by marrying us. She shocked us both when she started crying, saying how complicated it would be and that she couldn’t handle another scandal. She left us, ring in hand without an answer.
We were devastated. Luca didn’t come out of his room for days, and I drifted from room to room in a haze for, hell I’m not sure how long. But, the next week she called us, saying she needed space and time to think about what our proposal would mean for our lives and that she would give us a proper answer tonight, at the Opera Ball.
So no, I didn’t blame Luca for wanting to drink or wanting to leave and avoid everything completely. She won our hearts, broke them and now we were about to find out if she was going to break them again.
I snagged two glasses of wine from the passing waiter, downing one while handing the other to Luca. He smirked at me. “I thought you said—”
“Shut up,” I grumbled and scanned the room for Abigail’s face, whispering a curse under my breath when I didn’t see her.
Luca was smirking again. “Now who’s the nervous one?
“You know I hate these kinds of things.”
Luca nodded. “But you’re so good at them.” He was right. We’d both grown up on exactly these kinds of things. Only in Georgia, and especially where we were from people were much more underhanded. Gracious, humble, and cultured to your face, and the minute you’ve turned away they start in with the “did you hear about his latest failed business/cheating wife/divorce” nonsense. It’s one of the reasons we moved to Manhattan. Besides opening an investment firm, we’d heard New Yorkers were just as ruthless. Only they had the balls to say it to your face. Now that I could appreciate.
I could play the game. Better than most if you asked Luca, but that didn’t mean I liked it. At least in New York, they were always honest with you, whether you asked for their opinion or not.
Luca nudged me in the ribs but I already knew. The air in the room got thinner as I followed my friend’s gaze across the ballroom.
“Abigail,” I whispered. There she was in a stunning red gown, arm in arm with her overly animated sister. She took my goddamn breath away. Gliding through the crowd like royalty, it didn’t take her long to find my gaze. Our eyes locked in on each other and she headed toward us. Luca and I stood waiting, still as statues but with each of her steps I found it more and more difficult not to run across the ballroom and sweep her off her feet.
I tried reading her expression, wanting to prepare myself for whatever her decision might be. But I couldn’t. Abigail had a better poker face than I did.
“Damn inscrutable woman,” Luca said, giving words to my thoughts.
Her eyes darted between me and Luca as she got closer and then the worst happened. She took a hard left turn away from us. I stood there staring at her back, wanting to run after her with every cell in my body.
Luca put an arm out in front of me as if he’d read my mind. “Don’t. She’s made it clear what she wants. And it’s not us.”
A waiter passed by. “Champagne, gentlemen?”
“Not now,” Luca rumbled as I watched our whole world walk away.
“But, sirs, I think you—”
“Not NOW,” Luca roared.
“Sirs!” the waiter raised his voice. “Ms. Snow asked me to deliver this to you,” he said nodding toward the serving tray. With the mention of her name, the waiter had my attention. Beneath the only two champagne flutes was a small envelope with Abigail’s handwriting. I snatched it off the tray, apologized to the waiter and tore into the envelope.
Inside were two key cards and a note.
Meet me in room 7438. Come separately.
-Abby
The cement that had been hardening in my stomach dissolved as I read the words over and over again. I handed Luca a key card absently.
“I’m going first,” he said. And headed off to meet our Abigail.