18. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Nova
" S o what?" Katya couldn't see the problem with me kissing Anson.
"He's engaged," I protested.
"And enemy number one," Trevor pointed out.
We met for drinks at Congress Street Up, a speakeasy-style bar that we all loved for its vintage charm and excellent cocktails. The bar was tucked away on the second floor of a historic building and, like all good speakeasies, was accessible via a discreet staircase.
The dim lighting, exposed brick walls, and dark wood furnishings created an intimate, cozy atmosphere reminiscent of the Prohibition era. Congress Street Up was one of our favorite places to hang out. Luckily, Katya was not on call this Saturday, so we could spend some time together.
"He's the one who's engaged, not you ," Katya pointed out. "And he kissed you ."
"She didn't stop him," Trev remarked.
I made a face and chuckled. "I didn't want to stop him," I admitted as the jazz band started to play Nina Simone's Sinnerman . Very à propos . "He still hates me."
"And still wants you?" Katya mused.
I nodded sadly.
Trevor raised his glass, a classic Old Fashioned, in a toast. "To the crazy twists life throws our way," he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.
Katya, sipping on a delicate French 75, smiled warmly, and then clinked her glass against his. "To crazy twists," she echoed.
I lifted my drink, a tart and refreshing gin and tonic, and joined in the toast. "To old-fashioned garden-variety stupidity," I chimed in self-deprecation.
Trevor leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Hey, you know I'm joking, right? Fuck him, don't fuck him, no judgment."
"I only kissed him, and now you've taken it all the way to fuckin'?" I groaned.
"How is it to work with him?" Katya leaned her head on Trevor's shoulder, and he immediately slid his arm around her.
They were one of the best couples I knew. They were best friends and at ease with each other. They didn't fight but rather had heated discussions. They did their own thing but also spent quality time with one another. They were each other's most vocal and supportive champions.
I'd had that with Anson for a short time, and I wanted it again. That was the painful truth. I traced the rim of my glass with a finger. "It's been...complicated. When I left Sentinel, I thought I was leaving all that drama behind. Now, with Anson back in my life, everything feels cloudy. My simple life isn't so simple anymore."
Katya gave me a reassuring look. "It's understandable. The past has a way of sneaking up on us, especially when it's unresolved."
I was grateful for her empathy. "Anson’s presence stirs up so many old feelings—anger, betrayal, emotions I thought I’d moved past. But now I realize they were just buried, waiting to resurface."
Trevor took a thoughtful sip of his drink. "The situation is no doubt a clusterfuck. But it sounds like you're handling things well."
"I think so." I managed a small smile. "It's not easy to navigate. One minute, I'm presenting a proposal, the next, I'm dealing with memories I'd rather forget, and next, I want him to kiss me."
Katya's eyes sparkled with understanding. "Sometimes, confronting the past is the only way to truly move forward. Maybe this is your chance to finally put those old ghosts to rest. And enjoy a few orgasms in the process."
I sighed, feeling like the weight of the world was settled over me. "I wouldn't know how to even go about doing that. In some ways, I thought talking to him would bring me closure. It just ripped opened old wounds and I feel like I'm on the way to gettin' hurt again. He didn't believe me when I told him about Carre."
It was humiliating that I'd revealed to him the worst moments of my life, and he'd chosen to trust his friend. It surprised me a little. Knowing Anson, who was always morally grounded—believed in equal rights, called out racism and misogyny—I wondered how he could imagine I'd lie about sexual assault. Weren't we living in the #MeToo age where we believed a woman?
Before Katya could respond, our friend Mike Ross called out her name.
Katya jumped up to hug Mike. She'd introduced me to him months ago, and we'd gone on a single date. There were no fireworks, but it had been pleasant enough. Since then, we'd been trying to find time for a second date, but it hadn't happened. Mike was a journalist who worked for The Savannah Morning News , the largest newspaper in our fair city. His beat was politics, and these days, he was busy going back and forth to Atlanta, and sometimes even DC for his job.
He sat next to me, and leaned in to brush his lips against my cheek.
"How are things?" he asked.
"You tell us . What is this I hear about you being a member of a sex club?" Katya demanded.
Mike's eyes went wide, and he looked at me as if wanting to shield me from all the salaciousness. "Uh…."
I raised my glass. "Hey, no judgment here; only rampant curiosity."
He shook his head, laughing. "No…it's not…I'm not a member. I was doing my job."
I quirked an eyebrow. "We have a politician who's a member?"
He laughed. "You know I can't talk about that. Y'all can read it in the papers like everybody else. Who told you about this?"
"I think it might've been my brother," Trev drawled.
"And he probably does have a membership," Katya grinned. She adored her future brother-in-law, but let's face it, Beau liked the ladies, preferably naked and in groups.
" Asshole! Since he helped me get into the club, I think it's a bit disingenuous of him to falsely present me as a member." He waved a hand to get the attention of a server.
"It's Beau. Did you expect anything else?" Katya asked.
Mike laughed. "Right!"
"So, tell us about the sex club. What's it like?" I asked.
"Well, there's this one room they called Fire and Ice," Mike dropped his voice. "The ice comes from drinks, and the fire…from floggers ."
We all gasped dramatically. Katya fanned herself with her napkin. "I'm all hot and bothered now."
"You want some fire and ice, baby?" Trevor wiggled his eyebrows. "We have ice at home, and I'm sure I can find something that's like a flogger."
Katya cocked an eyebrow and made a face. "You use a flogger on me, buddy, that's the last time you'll use your hands. But if you want to use your hands…now…."
Trevor kissed her lightly on her lips. "You're nuts, baby, but you're all mine."
"Argh, stop it," Mike protested. "I'm just about ready to throw up due to all this excessive PDA."
"That's ‘cause you like your sex transactional in a club," I teased.
It was a lovely evening with friends and a potential date. This was my life now. The poor and orphaned Nova King was sitting in a swanky bar in downtown Savannah, drinking a craft cocktail in the company of fine people. I had come a long way from Sentinel. And yet, when Anson was around, I felt like I was back again in my gray diner uniform, desperately wanting to be seen.
Just as I was finally being seen by those in my life, Anson walked in and painted me as a poor, desperate, conniving woman, everything I worked so hard to prove I wasn't.
The universe was cruel to allow Sentinel Heights to land at my feet.
Since Anson and I kissed, I'd been debating if I should ask Nina to replace me with someone else. I'd hand it over now in the early stages so I wouldn't have to see Anson and that leech he called fiancée. And by the time the project was done, Bailey would probably be Anson's wife. I didn't know if my heart could handle that.
Regardless of the impending hurt, I knew I would stay on the project, even though I told him I'd wouldn't.
I could lie to my friends and to Anson, but to myself, I had to tell the truth.
I wanted to be in his presence .
The universe had given me time with him, and....
When did you become this pathetic love-sick fool, Nova? And what the hell are you expecting?
I was expecting a fairytale.
But this was real life and not a fantasy. Anson would never love me the way I wanted and deserved. And when it came to him, my first and only love, I was and would always be a pathetic love-sick fool. I'd just have to shore up my defenses so he never found out, because he'd take advantage of that and destroy me more than he already had.