“Rough day?” She eyes me up and down.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“I could help make it better,” she says suggestively, giving me a wink.
“I bet you could,” I mumble. She’s an attractive woman. Long jet black hair, a little too much eye make up for my liking and the tight fitted black dress she’s wearing has her cleavage on fulldisplay and maybe at another time, I’d have taken her up on her offer, but truthfully, I can’t stop thinking about the girl on the train, even though she should be the furthest thing from my mind.
“I’m Whitney, by the way.”
“Good to meet you, Whitney,” I say with a polite nod. She waits a beat, as if she is waiting for me to offer up my name, but I don’t give it. In my line of work, I don’t like to give out personal details to people I just met. I didn’t even give Noelle my real name, instead, offering up my last name.
“Are you going to tell me yours?” Whitney asks.
“No,” I say a little too harshly. It’s not her fault I am having a shitty day. “I can’t.”
“What are you? Some sort of secret agent? A James Bond?”
“Something like that,” I reply, humoring her.
She leans over the bar, placing her hand over mine and giving it a little squeeze. “I’ll write my number down for you, Mr. Bond,” she says quickly, swiping the glass off the dark countertop and walking away before I have a chance to respond. I let out a small chuckle. Maybe she would be a fun distraction from this shitty day. It’s been a long time since I did the one-night stand thing. At the grand old age of thirty-five and a girlfriend for the last eight years, I am out of the game, and then my mind returns to thoughts of the blonde from the train.
When everyone disembarked, it was pandemonium on the platform. I tried looking for her to make sure she got home safely or found somewhere to stay, but I lost her. I booked a room at the only hotel within walking distance of the station because the snowstorm decided I should spend the night in bum fuck nowhere.
The hotel is decent enough. Small and cozy. The Fireside Inn, I’m sure it’s called. I wasn’t really paying attention; I just needed a bed for the night. When checking in, the receptionist saidsome cheesy tag line that had me roll my eyes. I get it, ‘tis the season to be jolly and shit, but it’s also the season to be dumped and miserable apparently, because today wasn’t done with raw dogging me up the ass, no. The only room they had left was their honeymoon suite, complete with a jacuzzi bathtub, a fully decorated tree and a fridge full of champagne and strawberries. Oh, and let's not forget the heart made up of rose petals on the center of the bed. That little gift really was the icing on the cake.
There's so much anger, frustration, pain, and hurt, that my body is practically vibrating. I need something, maybe someone, to take my mind off my shitty day. I stare down as a freshly poured drink is placed in front of me, and a familiar voice has my nerves standing to attention.
“Oh, my god, it’s you.”
Chapter Five
Kennedy Noelle
“Oh, my god, it’s you.”
The words fall from my lips on a gasp. It’s Beckett, the hot guy from the train that got under my skin and sent my heart racing all in the same breath. Three times in one day I have run into this man. What are the chances?
“Fancy seeing you here,” he says with a smirk that nearly has my knees folding. He’s dressed in a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showcasing some impressive artwork and a vintage-looking Rolex.
“Seems like the universe really wants you and me together,” I say in a playful tone as I step toward him, and I am ready to take back my words, because I realize how it must have sounded, but when he gives me a small smile and says, “So it seems,” my shoulders relax.
“So, what are you doing here?” I ask with a head tilt as his eyes very obviously drink me in.
“Oh, you know. Soaking up the festivities.” There's a bite in his tone, and as I glance around the room, I can understand why. The bar and restaurant area is full of couples holding hands, exchanging gifts, looking happy and in love. It’s a sickening sight, and that hollow feeling returns when I realize that I am no longer like them. I am no longer part of a couple.
“Here.” Beckett drags a bar stool out beside him. “Come wallow with me.” I eye him suspiciously. This man made me feel like my mere existence was an inconvenience to him earlier, and now he’s inviting me to sit with him.
“Are you sure?”
He nods. “Misery loves company.”
“Charming,” I say flatly as I slide onto the waiting seat, tugging down the sparkly silver dress I changed into. Am I overdressed? Maybe, but I wasn’t letting this dress go to waste. “Are you sure I won’t ruin your evening?”
“I already have a headache brewing,” he grumbles, bumping his shoulder with mine.
“Well, unfortunately for you, I am worth the headache I will give you.”
“I’m sure you are.” He smirks into his drink and finishes it in one.
