Two
NASH
“Mr. Nightingale. Are you ready for tomorrow?” The bartender Seth cast me an easy grin as he dried wine glasses behind the bar. I was perched on my favorite stool, nursing my usual Ohio-brewed artisanal beer to feel slightly closer to home.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I turned the glass slowly in my hands, studying the amber liquid in the moody lighting.
Seth was one of a few bartenders who knew me as a regular at the specific Midtown bars I frequented.
I preferred the quiet places, the holes in the wall, the random hotel bars that saw more transients than regulars.
Places where I could step out of the breakneck speed of the city.
It just so happened that tomorrow, I’d be presenting at one of the most important conferences of my career in this very hotel.
I’d become such a regular here that I’d even met the owner of the hotel, who liked to make sure I was well taken care of when I drank too much.
I’d already arranged for the penthouse suite for tonight—for once, not because I’d drank too much, but because I needed to be up bright and early in the morning to present.
“I’ve heard a few people talking about it already,” Seth said, jerking his chin toward a group of people in the corner. “They’re here for it.”
I turned slightly to assess the crowd. Nobody I immediately recognized.
All the better. Everything needed to be perfect for this presentation.
I wasn’t just seeking investors and looking for benefactors to join my mission.
I was on the hook to convince the city to green light the massive development project I’d been working on for the past year.
If there was any hint of corruption, bribery or other malfeasance, the project could be canned.
We were in the final stages. My consultants had been regularly prodding the city to approve, helping us jump over regulatory hurdles left and right.
My architects had everything ready. I’d been interacting with the community for the past year, hoping to get local leaders on my side.
The city kept deferring their decision, but I knew a yes had to be around the corner.
As far as I was concerned, this was a standard community betterment project: turning unused space into a mixed-use project.
A dilapidated five-story building that was falling into disrepair and had been reported for multiple incidents of squatters would now, under my guidance, become ground floor commercial units and fifty-six new rent-controlled apartments.
It just required the demolition of a nearby building, which was almost completely abandoned except for one storefront, which I’d been working to relocate elsewhere.
It was par for the course for me. But lots of people were watching me and my brother Archer.
Our company, Nightly Developments, had entered the news cycle a time or two because of our approach to development.
I didn’t like that sort of attention. I just wanted to improve the community and help the people struggling the most. I had the money to do that sort of work, so I was going to do it.
But this is what it takes to grow your business.
I reminded myself of this as I felt anxiety swirling again.
If I wanted to play in the big leagues, I needed to get comfortable with the attention—and maybe even notoriety.
Which made it even more important to take some me time in familiar corners of the city, drinking beer that reminded me of the Midwest.
“Well hi there,” Seth said, causing me to look up. But he wasn’t talking to me. Someone walked past me and sat at the bar, two seats down. I didn’t look, because I didn’t care, but the hint of floral perfume in the air told me she was a woman.
In lieu of a greeting, the woman said, “I need a dry martini. Make it extra dry. Actually, make it Sahara-level dry.”
Seth chuckled and got to work on her drink while I resisted turning to scope her out.
The lilt of her voice told me she was young, but the command in her words betrayed her maturity, told me she knew who she was and what she wanted.
The few pieces I’d gotten about this woman had me wanting to take a look her way.
And hell, maybe I wanted some eye candy.
I was getting to the buzzed and curious portion of my evening, which was just a hop and a skip away from drunk and horny.
My senses sizzled on the rapidly fading perfume, some amber note in the background transporting me far away.
It reminded me of a wild type of freedom I’d felt in my college days, back when I was broke and travelling the world, beholden to nothing more than my backpack and wherever I could hitchhike that day.
Open markets, lunches over campfires, equatorial humidity hanging in the air no matter what hour of the day.
Did she realize how good this perfume was? Now I had to look.
“Mmmm. Thank you, good sir.” If the scent of the perfume hadn’t convinced me to peep, the huskiness in her gratitude had me hooked.
I took a healthy sip of my beer and swung my gaze her way.
I wasn’t prepared for the vision that greeted me.
I caught her mid-sip, the moment when the appreciation hits.
Slitted eyes, the faraway look that said maybe she was being transported to a humid open market right now too.
Honey-blonde hair was swept back into an elegant French braid.
Black high-waisted slacks hugged a small waist; a conversative blouse hid the rest of the details.
Golden heels glinted on her feet. She was office chic, but what got me more than anything was the air of fuck you.
She didn’t want to talk to me. Didn’t care.
And that was a turn on.
Seth returned, offering to top me off. I accepted another beer and stewed over my next move. I wanted to talk to her, but I respected the hell out of a person’s need to just sit in silence and be a nobody. That’s what I was here for, after all.
I studied the mirrored wall of liquor bottles backing the bar. But I didn’t miss the way the new arrival at my side tossed back the entire martini in one gulp.
She set the glass down, sliding it toward Seth. “Wasn’t dry enough. Try again.”
Seth grinned, swooping up the cocktail glass and getting to work behind the bar. I couldn’t miss my chance to open the door between us.
“You could try asking for pure gin next time,” I suggested.
“Then I’d sound like an alcoholic.” She looked at me, hazel eyes boring through me. Her nostrils flared as her gaze did a quick once-over. Electricity shivered between us, and for a moment, I wondered if I knew her.
I wasn’t in the habit of finding soul mates or kindred spirits or anything like that, but something in her pretty face felt familiar.
“You’re at a bar,” I responded. “It’s the one place you’re allowed to sound like one.”
She smiled, settling back in her seat. “I don’t consider myself one, but tonight, I may make an exception.”
“Tough day?” Seth asked.
She sighed heavily, looking into the mouth of the martini glass Seth pushed her way. “It’s getting better by the minute.”
“This is a good place to drown your sorrows,” I told her. “I’ve personally inspected every bar in the city, and this is one of my top five.”
“Oh, you’re from here?” She cast a curious look my way. God, she was pretty. High cheekbones, full, perfect lips, a mischief in her gaze that I absolutely understood.
“No, not from here. Nobody’s from New York these days.” It wasn’t true, of course, but in the bar of a hotel in Midtown, it was probably true enough.
She rolled her lips inward, looking away. I thought maybe that was the end of it, but she suddenly turned and said, “Where are you from?”
“Ohio.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
I cocked my head. “Please. I know we’re a fly-over state, but have some decency.”
A smile quirked her lips. “Fine. It’s been a while since I’ve met anyone from Ohio. Congratulations.”
“It’s not often I’m congratulated for the least interesting thing about me, but…thanks.” I sipped my beer, weighing my words, feeling the moment, realizing that we’d officially entered vibing territory. “Where are you from?”
Her throat bobbed, and she searched the back of the bar as though looking for her answer. “Stockholm.”
“Sweden?”
“No, Ohio.”
Now I couldn’t fight the smile. “Do you have a grudge against Ohio?”
She laughed into her palm, and that’s when I realized the martini was taking effect. She looked giddy. Girlish. Absolutely enchanting. I itched to scoot a seat closer, but I wanted to take my time.
“So you’re not from the city,” I told her. “What brings you to New York?”
She drew a deep breath, making that olive green blouse rise and fall in a mesmerizing way. “I’m here for meetings. Clients.”
I nodded, turning toward her, facing the empty barstool between us. So she knew she had my full attention. “What business do you head?”
She dipped her chin, fiddling with a pearl earring. “Can you tell I’m the boss?”
“I could smell the CEO on you as soon as you entered.”
A blush stained her cheek, and my fingers curled with the urge to brush her skin.
I didn’t normally vibe so hard with strangers at the bar.
I loved women, but they were distracting.
Falling in love, getting butterflies, all of that shit was just a time suck.
I’d learned that the hard way. So when I connected with someone, I needed to make sure it stayed casual. Even better if it was one-and-done.
And better yet if she was an out-of-towner.
“How does CEO smell?” She sipped her martini demurely.
“Not sure I can answer that truthfully without alarming our friend Seth here.”
She laughed, toying with the stem of her glass. “So what do you do?”
“Same as you,” I said. “Run my own business.”
“Which one?”
I tutted, shaking my head in one, quick jerk. “I came here to not think about work. We can just skip the career pleasantries.”
Seth returned, and she ordered another martini with a swoop of her finger.
“But there’s one burning question I have,” I told her. “What’s your name?”
“You first,” she prodded.
“Nash.”
I watched her closely for recognition. None came.
The fact that she didn’t recognize me sealed the deal.
I wasn’t arrogant enough to think that everyone in New York knew about me—hell, probably a miniscule percentage even cared—but I liked to think that most people in town would at least see my face and muse, “Yeah, I heard about him once somewhere…”
“Now you,” I prompted.
Her hazel gaze sparkled as she watched me. For a moment, I wasn’t sure she was going to give it to me. Then she grinned and said, “Scarlett.”
It didn’t take long for me to fall in love with Scarlett. For tonight, at least.
As the night wore on, we vibed even harder.
Eventually, I filled that seat between us.
Our knees knocked as we told stories and laughed.
This wasn’t a gross bar hookup. No, this was genuine.
Two thirty-something CEOs, letting off steam, finding solace in gin and beer and unexpected human connection.
I was ready to fuck her from the second I laid eyes on her—hey, redblooded male here. When she’d switched to drinking water and it seemed like the bar was getting ready to close down, she got a watery look in her eye.
“So. Has your day gotten any better?” I asked.
She sent me a sidelong look, lips curling at the corners. “Meeting you was exactly what I needed. Even more than the martinis.”
“You never even told me why you came out drinking tonight. Let’s hear it.
” I scooped her hands into my own, bringing them to my chest. We’d gotten touchy feely, but not much farther than this.
Though I was particularly interested in seeing how those full lips felt against my own.
“After what I’ve heard from you tonight, I know it’s a good story. ”
Something heavy clouded her gaze, and she looked up at me, almost guiltily. “I don’t know if I should say. It might kill the vibe.”
“Our vibe is solid. It can withstand whatever you throw at it.”
She blinked rapidly, her gaze coasting down the front of my button-up.
She was the type of sexy that meant each time she raked her eyes over me, goosebumps formed in their wake.
I itched to get her alone. Skin to skin.
To begin exploring exactly how those lips would feel on different parts of my body…
and what my own lips might find on her body.
“I caught my boyfriend cheating.” Her throat bobbed, and she turned away slightly. “Ex-boyfriend, I mean.”
It took a moment for the words to register. “Sorry, what?”
Scarlett narrowed her eyes slightly. “You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that, I—” I looked her over again, trying to imagine the delusions of the man who’d decided to cheat.
It felt as foreign to me as the concept of sword fighting.
I didn’t need swords to defend myself any more than I needed to destroy women’s trust and confidence in order to get what I wanted.
Because that was the other reason I stayed away from relationships. I knew that if I went in, I’d be all in. Forever.
And that scared the fuck out of me.
“I honestly can’t even imagine the level of dumbassery your ex had to cheat on someone like you.” I brought her knuckles to my lips for a chaste kiss. “And I mean that.”
Whatever suspicion or hesitation she still had melted away at those words. Hearts damn near poured out of her eyes. I hadn’t said it to win her over—I’d spoken honestly.
“I just want to forget about him.” She stared so deeply into my eyes I was afraid to blink. There was something real here. Raw. Something I didn’t ever want to look away from.
And maybe we didn’t have to look away from it tonight.
“I can help,” I told her. I couldn’t fight the grin that curled across my lips. “In room 3903.”