9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Blossom
The bar is packed tonight.
A large conference is in full swing at the hotel, and the guests are here to unwind after a day of presentations and meetings.
Their chatter and laughter fill the air, and I can feel the pulse of the evening. I’m moving quickly behind the bar, sliding glasses in and out of the fridge, pouring liquor, and mixing cocktails with the precision of someone who’s been doing this for a while now.
Five drinks at once? No problem. I line up the glasses: two martinis, a gin and tonic, a mojito, and a whiskey neat. I work fluidly, mixing, shaking, pouring, all while keeping a smile plastered on my face.
The guests are always appreciative of a good bartender, and I’m happy to oblige.
It’s been a few weeks since I started working full-time at the Hudson Hotel, and things are starting to fall into place. The tips are decent, better than I expected, actually, but living in Manhattan means it never feels like enough.
I’m still barely getting by, still stretching every dollar as far as it’ll go.
Rent is high, food is expensive, and despite the tips, I’m always just one unexpected bill away from being behind.
But for tonight, at least, I push those thoughts away and focus on making the next round. I hand over the whiskey neat with a smile. A couple of guests cheer for their drinks, and I can’t help but feel a little proud.
This? This is the life I’m carving out for myself.
I’m reaching for a bottle of bourbon when the phone rings. It’s loud behind the bar, and no one else seems to hear it, so I sigh and step away to grab the receiver.
“Hudson Hotel, how can I help you?” I say, trying to keep my voice friendly despite the exhaustion in my limbs.
I hear a pause on the other end, then a voice I immediately recognize speaks up.
“Blossom?” The voice is unmistakable, gruff and familiar in all the wrong ways.
Zack.
My loser ex-boyfriend from back in Carteret, Zack.
My heart drops into my stomach.
The knot in my chest tightens. What the hell is he doing calling the hotel?
I don’t have time for this. I don’t want to hear him, don’t want to feel the anger and disgust that come with his presence in my life.
I don’t even say anything. Without a second thought, I hang up, my fingers trembling on the receiver. I feel cold suddenly, the sound of his voice still hanging in the air.
Amy’s working at the bar nearby, and she immediately notices the shift in my expression. I don’t even have to say anything.
She can see it.
She’s always been able to see when something’s wrong.
She looks at me, her eyebrows furrowed, but I quickly turn back to the drinks, trying to hide the sickness in my stomach.
I return to my side of the bar, trying to shake off the aftereffects of that call, but it’s impossible. I’m still thinking about Zack, his voice on the phone like a taunting ghost from the past. I try to focus on the orders in front of me. Three Old Fashioneds. Easy enough. I grab the ingredients, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in my head.
Amy rounds the bar and leans in close, her voice a whisper. “What happened? Who was that on the phone?”
I glance up at her, and she knows instantly that something’s off. I don’t want to tell her, but the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Zack.”
Amy’s eyes widen, her mouth hanging open in surprise. “ He called the hotel?” she asks, her voice full of disbelief. She leans in closer, her curiosity piqued. “What did he want?”
I feel my stomach churn again. “I don’t know. He just...said my name, like a question. Like he was surprised to get me. But I recognized his voice immediately. It was like he wasn’t expecting to be put through to me.”
Amy looks disgusted, shaking her head. “That’s so creepy. What a jerk. Are you going to report him? Tell Noah? He’s gotta do something about this.”
I pause, my hand hovering over the glass I’m about to pour. “I don’t know,” I say quietly. “Isn’t that a bit too much? I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
Amy presses her lips together, looking at me like I’m out of my mind. “Blossom, he’s stalking you. Calling the hotel? That’s so crossing a line. You have to tell Noah.”
I shake my head, not wanting to drag Noah into my mess. “I don’t want to bother him with this. It’s...my problem.”
Amy’s gaze softens, but she still looks concerned. “You should, though. You don’t have to handle this on your own.”
I look away, trying to keep my focus on the job, but my mind is spinning. The thought of Zack keeps circling, and I feel nauseous again.
As the night drags on, Amy keeps asking me questions about Zack, but I try to stay focused on the customers. I can’t let myself get distracted, but every time my phone buzzes with a text from him, I feel my heart race, the fear rising in my chest.
He’s relentless. He keeps texting, keeps calling, and every message is more insistent than the last. It’s like he’s obsessed. He won’t let me go.
I take a deep breath as I mix another round of drinks, trying to push the anxiety away. Just then, I hear the unmistakable sound of the door opening again, and my heart skips a beat.
Noah walks in, his presence filling the room, and for a split second, all the chaos around me fades away. My gaze locks with his, and despite everything that’s going on, a small part of me feels a little lighter.
He nods toward the bar, and I give him a smile as I serve another drink. But my stomach twists, and I can’t help but feel like everything is teetering on the edge. Everything is starting to fall apart, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it together.
Noah notices my unease but doesn’t say anything as he takes a seat at the bar, his eyes still on me. I don’t want him to know what’s going on with Zack, but I know it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.
I’m on my break, sitting on the small bench out back of the hotel. The city is still buzzing, but I need a moment of quiet. I pull out my phone, checking the screen, and immediately feel my heart sink.
There are several messages from Zack, the kind of texts I’ve been trying to ignore.
Blossom, we need to talk. I know things ended badly, but I’m here now. Just call me, please. We can meet up and sort everything out.
The messages keep coming, pleading, desperate, and I feel the sick, familiar weight of dread settle in my stomach. Why is he even here? He’s supposed to be back in Jersey, trying to move on with his life. What the hell is he doing here, in the city?
I scroll through the messages, the weight of each word pulling me under. How did he even know I was working here? Did someone tell him I was in New York? The thought makes my stomach churn. I don’t want anything to do with him anymore.
Immediately, I swipe his number to block it.
I’m not about to let him ruin this for me.
I ignore his calls, shoving the phone back into my pocket with a heavy sigh. This was the last thing I needed. It’s the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.
I stand up, pushing the nagging thoughts of Zack to the back of my mind. I won’t let him control me anymore.
Heading back inside, the smell of alcohol and the low hum of the bar hits me. But all I can think about is Zack.
I still feel nauseous, the nerves from my secrets and Zack getting to me, and for a moment I pause in the kitchen, leaning over the rolling, industrial trash can.
“Hey! If you’re going to do that, you need to go back outside. You can’t do that here in the kitchen!” Miguel shouts, a large knife in his hand as he cleans shrimp.
“Sorry!” I sputter, feeling good enough to go back to slinging drinks. “I’m good, I’m good…I think.”
Zack and I were a mess from the start, chaotic, unpredictable. Our relationship had always been volatile. In the beginning, I thought he was just misunderstood, too proud, too stubborn, but he would grow out of it . I thought he just needed time.
We met when I was nineteen, and he was twenty-four, both of us working at a grocery store together. Zack was older, with a cocky attitude that masked the vulnerability I didn’t know existed beneath. He was charming, and I was naive enough to think we’d grow together.
Zack had hurt his knee during his college football years and lost his scholarship. He always told me his goal was to make enough money to go back to college. He had big dreams of going pro back then, but that injury ruined it all.
But anytime I asked if he was going to start returning to classes, he’d always make excuses, blow me off. Then the bitterness started to creep in. I didn’t realize it at first, but looking back, it was obvious.
I had dreams, too, of a better life, of escaping the small-town rut, but he couldn’t see it. He just kept drinking, complaining about the life that could’ve been. I remember the day I finally told him, “You need to grow up. Get a real job. Do something that matters.”
That was the beginning of the end. He couldn’t handle it. And now? After everything we went through? He’s calling me like nothing’s changed. But everything has changed.
I pull myself from the memory, knowing that I’m better off.
I don’t need to go back to him.
I pull out my phone again, trying to distract myself from the turmoil of the day. But then I see a missed call and a voicemail notification.
For a moment, my heart stops.
Could it be him? Could it be Zack, calling again?
I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen.
It’s probably better to check.
I press play, and as the voicemail starts, I hear the voice of a potential bride, “Hi, Blossom, this is Emily. I’ve been going over your portfolio, and we’d love for you to photograph our wedding on the eighteenth of next month. We’re having a small ceremony, but a big reception, and we were hoping you could fit us in. We were hoping to offer five thousand for the day if that works for you. Let me know as soon as possible!”
The words hit me like a wave. Five thousand dollars. I can hardly believe it. This is the break I’ve been waiting for, the opportunity I’ve dreamed about.
I hit call back immediately, my pulse racing.
“Hi Emily, it’s Blossom, I’m returning your call. I’m available on the eighteenth, and I would love to photograph your wedding. I’m so excited! Thank you so much for considering me. I can’t wait to work with you.”
I hang up the phone, smiling from ear to ear. This is a huge opportunity, and it feels like everything I’ve worked for is finally coming together.
I return to the bar, my head buzzing with excitement from the wedding gig. Amy’s wiping down the counter, but the moment she sees me, she grins.
“So, did you get the job?” she asks, leaning in a little.
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “Yes! I got it! Five thousand for one day. Can you believe it?”
Amy’s eyes widen in surprise, and she gives me a playful shove. “That’s amazing, Bee! You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard. We need to celebrate!”
We finish our shift for the night, and as the bar clears out and we start to clean, I can’t help but hum a little tune. I’ve always loved singing, but I never really do so in front of other people.
As I finish cleaning a glass, I catch one of the cleaning crew members smiling at me from the corner. He’s an older guy, always there to help after hours, and tonight, he looks up from his broom.
“You have a beautiful voice,” he says with a warm smile. “You should sing more often.”
I feel my cheeks warm, and I laugh softly. “Thanks,” I say, a little embarrassed. “I just like to sing while I work.”
Amy overhears and joins in, laughing. “Yeah, she sings all the time. You should hear her when she’s really into it.”
The compliment stays with me as I finish up, and for the first time in a while, everything feels like it might just be falling into place.
I’m finishing up my shift, drying the last of the glasses, when I spot Noah stepping into the bar. His presence is unmistakable, and the energy in the room shifts immediately.
“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth but carrying a hint of seriousness. “We need to talk.”
Amy, who’s putting away a bottle of gin, looks up at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, no problem,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “See you later tonight... maybe.”
The words hit me with a pang, and I notice Noah stiffen slightly. It’s like a small jab, but I can tell it rubs him the wrong way. I try to cover for Amy, knowing she’s just messing around, but I can feel the tension in Noah’s posture.
I smile awkwardly at him before turning back to Amy and grabbing my jacket. “All right, Amy. See you later.”
Noah doesn’t say anything at first, but when he looks at me again, there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes, though he’s still a little on edge.
“Amy lives with me, Noah,” I remind him gently as I walk toward him. “It would be impossible to keep this from her. She’d wonder where I am every night. So... yeah, it’s just her way of teasing me.”
He lets out a deep breath, visibly calming down. “Fair enough,” he says, a smirk forming on his lips. “But if you want to spend the night again... I’m not complaining. Especially if you’re going to sing for me. Your voice is incredible.”
I laugh a little nervously, but I can’t help but smile. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” I say, my voice softening.
Noah’s grin widens as he steps closer, his eyes locking with mine.
The night just got a whole lot more interesting, and as we retreat back to his penthouse, I realize we’re slowly taking on a routine.
I’m not nervous about showing my body to him anymore. I used to be nervous he would expect more. After all, he’s so wealthy, he could have any woman.
I know the kind of perfect, beautiful women that rich guys can pull. However, Noah makes me feel whole . He makes me feel sexy in a way that no other man ever has. The way his lips trail over my body, the way he thrusts into me so rhythmically I can’t help but cum all over him.
Noah brings a level of confidence out of me that I never thought I could achieve, and it makes me feel like I need him , which scares me.
I decide to show him my gratitude, sucking him off slowly and sensually, bringing him nearly to a head before teasing him and just swapping my deep strokes for flicks of my tongue.
Before long, he’s pulling me to my feet, bending me over the kitchen counter, and fucking me across the marble top. My nipples are rock hard against the cool marble, and somehow, the extreme difference in temperatures brings me to an orgasm faster than normal. I gush against him, screaming his name, my knees shaking underneath me.
He playfully slaps my ass before dropping to his knees and sucking my pussy dry.
It’s late now, and the soft glow of the city lights outside the windows illuminate the room as I lie next to Noah in his bed. We’re tangled in the sheets, our bodies still humming from the intimacy we just shared.
The warmth of his skin against mine is comforting, and I feel peaceful, almost like everything in my life is finally aligning.
But then, just as I start to drift into that peaceful state, I hear it. The chime of my phone, sharp and sudden, cutting through the quiet. My heart jumps in my chest, and I feel a wave of anxiety hit me.
I immediately reach for the phone on the bed, almost knocking Noah’s arm off me in the process. He sits up, eyes narrowing in concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low but filled with curiosity.
I try to brush it off, pretending everything’s fine, but I can’t hide the tension in my face. I’m already dreading what I might see on the screen, but I know I can’t avoid it.
Noah watches me for a moment longer, his gaze soft but serious. “Seriously, Blossom, you look worried. What’s going on?”
I freeze, my fingers hovering over the phone. Noah’s never seen me like this, so vulnerable, so shaken, but I can’t hide it from him. The anxiety is consuming me, and I don’t know how to pretend everything’s okay anymore.
I take a shaky breath, finally setting the phone back down beside me. Noah’s still watching me intently, waiting for me to speak.
“Zack,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I try to hold it together, but my chest tightens. “He’s been reaching out again.”
Noah stiffens beside me, his fingers brushing the back of my hand. “Zack? Who’s Zack?”
I swallow hard. “He’s...my ex. We met when I was younger, in my hometown of Carteret in North Jersey. He was older, and I thought—at first—that he’d get his life together, that he’d grow up, you know? But he never did. He kept...falling back into bad habits, getting stuck in the same cycle.”
I pause, trying to steady my breathing. The memories of that relationship are a blur of emotions—anger, love, confusion, but most of all, regret.
“I broke up with him right before Amy and I moved to New York,” I continue, my voice trembling. “I needed a fresh start, something new, but...Zack didn’t take it well. And now...he’s been texting me nonstop. And calling the hotel.”
Noah’s face darkens at the mention of the hotel, his hand tightening around mine. “The hotel? You mean he’s been calling my hotel?”
I nod, feeling the weight of the situation settle deeper into my chest. “Yeah, he’s persistent, Noah. It’s starting to feel like I can’t escape him.”
Noah sits up in bed now, his jaw set, a flicker of anger crossing his face. “He’s calling the hotel ?” His voice is low, dangerous. “That’s crossing a line, Blossom. You’re my employee. He has no business doing that.”
I shake my head, trying to calm him down. “It’s fine, really. It’s just Zack. He’s stubborn, but he’ll get over it.”
He leans toward me, his expression softening but still tense. “Just say the word, and I’ll ban him from the hotel. I’ll ban him from every hotel I own if I have to. No one gets to harass you like that.”
I feel a flutter of relief at his words, but I try to ease his frustration. “No, Noah, it’s fine. I don’t want to cause trouble. I’ve been dealing with him for years. He’ll eventually get the message.”
But Noah doesn’t seem convinced. His brow furrows as he pulls me closer to him. “You don’t have to handle this on your own, Blossom. I won’t let him hurt you. You don’t have to put up with this.”
I rest my head against his chest, feeling comforted by his words but still uncertain.
“Do you think he’ll ever let me go?” I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper. The thought of him continuing to intrude on my life scares me more than I’m willing to admit.
Noah presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll figure it out, Blossom. Together.”
For the first time in a while, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m not alone in this.