9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Amy
Fancy cheese. Check.
Crackers. Check.
Salami. Check.
Chocolate-covered almonds. Check.
I continue through my grocery list, making sure I didn’t miss anything.
Lately, I’ve become a bit obsessed with making charcuterie boards for dinner, which is essentially just an adult version of a Lunchable. It’s also a great excuse to stuff my face with all my favorite foods and not feel guilty.
It’s been a rough week.
But hey, at least I don’t have to worry about cooking for two.
I suppose that’s one perk of being single...
Not to mention, these simple piecemeal dinners are convenient to carry—and considering I sold my car before moving here, I pretty much walk everywhere now, so, it helps to keep things light.
Luckily my apartment isn’t far from the store—just a few blocks—and my brisk walks through the busy streets of Manhattan are starting to grow on me. The city has a rhythm all of its own, a heartbeat that pulses through the pavement and reverberates in the air. It’s chaotic yet strangely comforting being surrounded by a symphony of life—the honking cars, the chatter of pedestrians, the distant sirens—that somehow feels like home.
I make my way through the produce aisle with my grocery basket in hand, snagging a few grapes and strawberries to add some freshness to the board.
And as I turn the corner to head toward the checkout, I spot a man about my age, with an impressive beard and wavy dark hair. He’s standing in front of the frozen foods section, staring intently at a pint of ice cream.
He’s cute.
Like ... really cute.
His brow furrows in concentration, as if he’s trying to decipher the secrets of the universe hidden within the label. I can't help but steal glances at him as I make my way closer and start browsing the ice cream, trying to play it cool .
Our eyes meet briefly, and I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. Quickly looking away, I try to focus on the items in my basket, but my heart is pounding with nervous excitement.
Could this be one of those chance encounters that lead to something more?
I take a deep breath and gather my courage as he finally picks a flavor—mint chocolate chip—and places it in his basket.
“Great choice.” I smile at him.
Gotta shoot my shot, right?
“Thanks. It’s my girlfriend’s favorite flavor,” he replies with a sheepish grin, and my heart sinks.
Girlfriend.
Of course.
And this is exactly why I should stick with going to singles events...
I wrap my coat tighter around myself, trying to keep the bone-chilling winds at bay as I follow Parker and Weston into Central Park. They’re chatting amongst each other, and normally, I would be, too, but all I can think about is one thing...
Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve.
Tonight has to work out for me. It just has to .
This is my only shot at finding a date for New Year’s or getting my first kiss by then.
The smell of hot chocolate permeates the air as we close in on the large group of people, and surprisingly, a band plays on a small stage off to the side. I soak it all in, hoping and praying that tonight will be the night I meet someone who won’t stand me up.
“You’ve been really quiet the whole walk here. Everything good?” Weston asks, looking back at me.
I smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a little cold tonight.”
“You want a hot chocolate?”
“Sure, I’d love one.”
“I’ll go grab them for us,” Parker interjects. He looks sharp in his leather jacket, beanie, and dark wash jeans—and I have to say it’s an edgier look than I thought he was capable of pulling off.
“Thank you.” I take a deep breath, my stomach feeling a little uneasy. Everyone seems to be talking in little groups, and no one is even looking at me.
“So,” Weston begins, looking over at me. “You and Parker?”
I raise my eyebrows. “What?”
“Are you into him?”
I burst into laughter, some of the tension melting away. “No way. And I’m pretty sure he can’t stand me.”
“Nah.” Weston chuckles. “Regardless of what he tries to say—or even what he thinks—if he’s hanging out with you, he doesn’t mind you too much. He’s a good guy.”
Well, he did buy my coffee...
Both of them...
“I have hope for him.” I giggle just as he returns, dangerously balancing three cups of hot cocoa.
“Why are you guys laughing at me?” Parker gives us both a wary look as he hands me mine first and then Weston his.
“She was just saying that she actually has hope for you,” Weston jokes. “I was shocked. I figured everyone thought you were a lost cause.”
“A lost cause when it comes to what?” Parker looks even more confused.
“Love, silly,” I chime, meeting his gaze. Something flips in my chest as his eyes hold mine for a split second, but then he looks back at Weston.
“You all really need to get a hobby or something.” He then yawns, looking down at his watch. “I don’t know how long I’m going to last listening to this crap.”
I tune into the cheerful and vibrant acoustic set filling the air. “I don’t think it’s that bad. It reminds me of my favorite band, The Band Allen.” I think of the folksy indie group and smile.
“Really?” Weston’s face lights up. “I love The Band Allen. Did you know they’re gonna be playing here in the city on Valentine’s Day?”
“What?!” I gasp. “Are you serious? I’ve never seen them in concert before. I have to go.” I pull out my phone and Google their tour dates, landing on the Valentine’s Day showing.
Holy.. .
“Yeah, the tickets are crazy expensive. I guess the concert is some kind of private showing—that’s why I haven’t bought any,” Weston grunts from beside me. “I love concerts, but I can’t bring myself to spend that kind of money.”
“So, you wouldn’t want to go with me?” I offer, hoping he’ll change his mind.
“Nah, I’m hoping to have a date that evening.”
Parker’s laugh grabs my attention. “Why’s that?”
“Because. Valentine’s Day is a cool holiday,” Weston reasons, just as his eyes land on a pretty blonde standing a few feet away. “And I’m gonna go find someone to spend it with right now.”
Parker raises an eyebrow. “Did none of the three girls you met at the matchmaking event pan out?”
“Nah, man. So now I’m on the hunt for a date for tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve party. Oh, and Amy.” He turns to me. “You’re invited. Parker will send you the address. It’s a rooftop party. You don’t want to miss it.”
I smile. “I’ll be there.” I then turn to Parker. “Will you send me the info?”
He grimaces. “I guess so. What’s your number?” I tell him my phone number while he types it in and then immediately sends me an address. “It starts at eight, I think.”
“I’ll be there,” I say, feeling a little relief that I at least won’t be stuck at home on New Year’s Eve. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, for sure. It gets a little wild sometimes, so there’s that. ”
“And you still go?” I tease. “I don’t peg you as the party-going type.”
“Ha ha,” he snorts, but then never has a chance to say anything else as a tall blonde approaches us.
“Parker Harris?” she asks, her bright blue eyes appearing even brighter under her white beanie.
“That’s me.” He smiles as he turns to meet her gaze.
“You don’t know who I am, but I just started working for Energy Tech, and they were raving about you—and how you completely re-engineered their cloud.” She beams, and I can’t help but admire just how pretty she is with her flawless complexion and color-coordinating coat and hat.
And the way Parker is smiling at her is ... different .
“Oh yeah? I did some contract work for them a few years back, but it’s good to know they appreciated it.” His voice is cool and even, not anything close to the way he’s ever talked to me.
“Yeah, it made such a difference,” the blonde says. “I’m Gretchen.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Parker responds, extending his hand and shaking hers. “Really.”
My stomach knots up.
He’s so much smoother than I thought.
“Sorry if I interrupted your conversation.” Gretchen turns to me. “I just had to see if it was really the man I thought it was.”
“Oh no, you’re good,” I say quickly, taking a few steps back .
“This is Amy, one of my friends.” Parker shoots me a passing glance, but that’s as far as it gets before he’s focused on Gretchen again.
Maybe blondes are his type or something.
I pull my eyes away from the two of them, who are now deep in a technical conversation about things I don’t understand. I need to find someone to talk to. Weston is chatting it up with a group of four women, so I’m on my own.
But it’s fine.
I can do this.
Straightening my shoulders and smoothing out my hair, I step off to the side, making it seem like I’m just standing here all alone listening to the music. I take in the crowd around me, the laughter, the distant sound of a siren passing by. The evening is alive with energy and possibility.
I sip my hot chocolate, letting the warmth spread through me and calm my nerves, and begin swaying to the music. Though, I have to admit, Parker wasn’t all that wrong. The more I listen to the band, the more I’m maybe not so into it ... But it makes me look less pathetic if I’m doing something.
I watch the frontman behind the microphone. He looks ... cold . The wind whips through his shoulder-length dark hair, and the more I watch, the more I realize he has better hair than I do.
I wonder what conditioner he uses? And would it be weird to ask?
Laughter sounds from behind me, and I turn to see Gretchen and Parker, both of them bright and cheery. And I can’t even deny it, I feel ... jealous .
Ugh. It’s just because I want to find that kind of connection.
Disappointment and defeat funnel into my chest, and all the intrusive thoughts start to creep in. What if there’s just something wrong with me? I mean, I’m almost thirty and I’ve never even been kissed.
That’s a little weird.
I’m an anomaly.
And not a good one.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and spin around, expecting it to be Parker coming to torture me. But as I look up and see a pair of dark brown eyes, I’m taken aback.
“You look lonely,” the man says in a deep voice. His dark hair is styled perfectly and a red scarf is delicately wrapped around his neck. “I hate seeing lonely women.”
“Well, thanks,” I say, my mouth growing dry. This man is hot . Like so dang hot . “I’m Amy.” I extend my hand, trying to be as smooth as Parker was with Gretchen.
He glances at my hand and then slowly takes it. “You’re very official, I see. That’s adorable.”
I smile, even though I wish he would’ve given me his name. “I guess I was just taught good manners.”
“Yeah? Do you always use good manners, or do you sometimes get a little crazy? You look like the kind of woman who could do both. ”
I have no idea what the heck he means, but I shrug. “Sure.”
“I like that.” He flashes a grin, taking a step closer to me. “What do you think of the band?”
“Um, they’re okay,” I say, sipping my hot chocolate.
“The lead singer is my brother.”
My brows shoot up. “Really? That’s cool.” My eyes shift to mystery man’s hair and then back to the lead singer. It makes sense. They both have great hair. It’s probably genetics... Which means their kids should have great hair...
“Yeah, he’s something else. He lived out in Los Angeles for the longest time, trying to make it out there, but then realized it wasn’t for him. He lives in my parents’ basement on the Upper West Side. So, don’t get your hopes up too much.”
I laugh. “No worries. I don’t think I’m into him.”
“No?” He frowns. “Would you be into his brother?”
“Maybe.” I feel my cheeks flush with heat. “I don’t even know his name.”
“Oh, yeah.” He bursts into laughter. “I guess that might be good for you to know. I’m Kenny, and my brother up there is David. Not that you really need to know his name, but yeah. Now you do.”
“Thanks, Kenny,” I say, giggling. “So, what do you do for work?”
“I’m an accountant for a firm in Manhattan. It’s not the best job, but I’m working my way up.”
“I get that.” My eyes drift past him to where Parker and Gretchen are standing, and much to my surprise, I’m met with a hard stare—no, maybe glare —from Parker. I look away and back to Kenny.
“So what’re your plans for New Year’s Eve?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t know. I usually go to a little hole-in-the-wall dive bar on the East Side with my brother and some of our friends. The pickings are slim when it comes to women, but the beer is good—and that’s all that matters on New Year’s Eve.”
I laugh, assuming that he’s making a joke. “I suppose so. I’m going to a rooftop party. It’s my first year in New York City, so I really want to get a feel for it.”
“Have you been with a New Yorker yet?”
“What?” I say, furrowing my brow. “I mean, I’ve finally started making some friends.”
He leans in, his breath tickling my ear. “But have you been with a New Yorker yet? They’re better than anyone else.”
My face grows red. “Oh, no. No, I haven’t actually been—” I stop myself, not even wanting to admit to that.
“It’s all good.” He chuckles. “I can tell you’re a shy girl. It’s hot. I like that type.”