2. Charleigh
TWO
CHARLEIGH
Present Day
Nothing makes me question my life choices more than standing on the street in the bitter cold, bared legged in only a mini skirt and high heels. I wrap my arms around my middle and tighten my peacoat around my body, hoping it will ward off the permanent chill that has embed itself beneath my skin. I can practically feel my hardened nipples cutting through my silk blouse, too. I sigh, breathing in the intensely cold New York air, feeling it prick its way down the back of my throat. The street is busy tonight. People of all types pass me in a hurry as I stand outside the bar Julianna picked for us to meet at. Nerves bundle inside my stomach, weaving themselves into a tighter knot. My uncertainty still lingers when I think about why she wanted us to get together tonight.
“What am I doing here?” I mutter under my breath. The brisk, late-March wind floats across my cheeks as I glance down the sidewalk in both directions, hoping to catch a glimpse of my best friend. I stamp the bottom of my stiletto onto the concrete and tug my phone from the front pocket of my coat just as I see Julianna’s name flash across the screen. I quickly slide the green button and press the warm device to my icy cheek.
“Julianna—thank God. Are you almost here?” My chin quivers against the cold breeze as I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
“Hey, Charleigh. Are you already at the bar?” Her voice sounds weak and distant.
Why does she sound like she’s anywhere else but here?
“I’ve been standing out here for the past ten minutes. Are you inside?” I spin on my heel, and peer through the window, searching the crowd. “I don’t see you.”
The bar is small, each wall covered in faded red bricks that must be as old as New York City itself. Despite its rough appearance, I’m impressed. String lights are strung across the ceiling, giving the bar a warm, cozy glow. Just like the sidewalk where I’m standing, the bar is packed to the brim with patrons both seated at the small tables in the middle and at the long, glossed walnut bar that runs the length of the building. The wall-to-wall packed bar is the reason I happen to be standing outside instead of enjoying what I’m sure is the opposite of this frigid weather.
“This place is insanely packed,” I tell her. “What are you wearing?” I narrow my eyes even more, trying to get a better view of who is inside and catch a glimpse of Julianna’s signature fire-red hair. Perhaps I missed her as she walked in, or maybe she’s sitting at a table in the back.
“I’m not there,” Julianna finally answers, her voice growing smaller and shakier. “I think I came down with a bad case of food poisoning.”
“What?” I ask, breathless as a white cloud of hot air bursts from my mouth. Seriously, it’s ridiculous how cold it is in March. However, I’m used to this Northeast weather. I already know it doesn’t truly feel like spring until the end of April here .
“Yeah,” she gulps. “I’ve been throwing up in the toilet for the past three hours.”
“How long have you been feeling like this?”
“My stomach has felt off since last night after I left dinner.” She sighs. “Taron and I tried that new Italian place in Uptown.”
“Oh.” I scrunch my nose. “Do you want me to come over? Do you need anything?”
“No.” Julianna swallows. The flushing sound from the toilet echoes through the phone. I picture her slipping to the bathroom floor, refusing to leave her safe spot in front of the toilet. “Taron’s coming by later to bring me crackers and ginger ale.”
My teeth cut through the tip of my tongue, holding back my reaction to my best friend’s shitty boyfriend offering to come over and help. Over the years, I’ve voiced my opinion about Julianna’s on and off again relationship with Taron to no avail. Why Julianna has put up with him is beyond me. I don’t trust Taron to follow through on his promise to come over, but I can’t say much. I’ve learned it’s best to stay out of it. At least for tonight.
“I’m not sure crackers and ginger ale are what you need right now,” I mutter, bitterness souring the tip of my tongue.
“I don’t know, either.” She sighs. “I haven’t Googled food poisoning remedies, but it’s the thought that counts, right? At least Taron is trying.”
I don’t know why my best friend feels this is the type of love she deserves.
“Are you sure I can’t come by?” I offer once again, keeping my thoughts to myself.
“You need this meeting, Charleigh,” Julianna insists. “I’ll be fine.”
I close my mouth and nod. She’s right; I do need this meeting, but is it so pressing that we couldn’t possibly reschedule?
“You’re right.” I mutter .
Julianna sighs again, the lightness in her voice waning. “I’m really sorry I can’t make it.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well.” I know if she could be here she would. My best friend has never abandoned me when I need her the most.
“No.” She disagrees. “I’m sorry you’re going to have to meet Holt’s friend without me.”
“Okay, we need to quit apologizing to each other.” We both giggle but my smile slowly fades. I wince, then tuck my lip nervously between my teeth. “But maybe we can try to meet up another night. When you can be here.”
“Stop, Charleigh.”
“What?” I ask, pretending not to know what she’s getting at when I know exactly what she’s thinking.
I’m terribly shy and won’t hesitate to leave if it’ll help me avoid a night full of uncomfortable conversation and stretches of awkward silence. I don’t do well with blind meetings, especially when it’s just me, but the longer I stand here, the more I realize it isn’t simply because I’m an introvert to my core. Anxiety about what tonight means settles into my bones. This night is big. Big for my business, and an important step in achieving a dream since I plucked my first flower at three years old and pressed it between the pages of my favorite book.
“You’re not getting out of this one,” Julianna argues.
I shrug, even though I know she can’t see me. “I’m not trying to get out of anything, just postponing. This meeting will be awkward without you. I already think it’s strange that Holt won’t be here since he’s his friend. What am I supposed to say to him?”
“Charleigh…” Julianna sighs for the third or fourth time. “You’re there to talk to him about your business plans. It’s important you meet with him. Expanding your business has been something you’ve been wanting for years, and now that op portunity is within reach. And what, you’re going to pull out now because Holt and I won’t be there? No way.”
My silence allows her to continue, though.
“He’s one of the biggest real estate agents in the country, Charleigh. If you want the best shot at expanding your floral business, he’s your guy. He’ll probably be more inclined to help you since he’s friends with Holt.”
Holt is Julianna’s older brother. He also happens to be running the largest publication company in the world and has connections deep within the glitzy, glamorous lifestyle of New York City. Despite Julianna and Holt’s endless wealth that’s inception runs as far back as the previous century, Julianna is one of the most down to earth people I’ve ever met. Her older brother included.
But something tells me that isn’t the life they project to just anyone. Only a select few, me included. And, considering I come from a similar background but have dedicated the past several years of my life keeping my head down by living as unassuming as possible, I relate to them probably more than they realize.
“I get it.” I shiver. “But it feels kind of odd that it’ll be just the two of us. Suddenly, this feels like a blind date.”
Silence. Silence so loud, the background noise of the city is drowned out, and I can hear every breath passing Julianna’s mouth.
“Wait. Jules…?” A knot forms in my chest.
“Hang on, Charleigh. Let me explain,” Julianna is quick to defend.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan and blow out a heavy breath while I quickly glance up and down the street, hoping to spot a cab to flag down before my toes snap off. That’s it. I wave the white flag. There’s no way I’m continuing this meeting now. “I’m not doing this. I should’ve known. ”
“Should’ve known what?” Julianna pretends to be clueless, her voice meek and cautious.
“You setting me up,” I huff, wrapping my arm around my middle, tucking my frozen hand under my armpit. “This isn’t just a business meeting, is it?”
“No.” I can imagine the wince on her face.
“Julianna,” I groan. “I can’t believe you set me up. Are you truly sick, or was this part of your plan?”
“No! I really am sick. I wouldn’t lie about that.” She pauses, the sound of her heavy, weighted breath hitting my ear. “I do believe he can help you with your business, but I won’t deny there’s a part of me that’s maybe thinking this could be an opportunity.”
“Opportunity for what?” I ask, shock settling in. I can’t believe Julianna went this far.
“We’ve been friends a long time, and you’ve barely dated in the time we’ve known each other.”
My stomach flips. I haven’t thought about my love life in a long time.
For a reason.
I’m surprised to hear my best friend is more invested in it than I’ve been, or that she’s even noticed. Have I truly been that obvious in avoiding my love life like it’s the bubonic plague?
“I didn’t realize I needed to date someone to be happy, Jules,” I mutter, ready to throw this night in the nearest back-alley dumpster.
“You don’t,” she agrees, her voice softening. “But I’m not going to pretend I don’t see the sadness and loneliness in your eyes, wishing you had someone other than your best friends to share your life with.”
My throat swells, and I swallow around the lump building, unwelcome tears pricking the back of my eyes. I did have someone before, when my heart hadn’t been expecting it. Someone who shared the same hopes and dreams. Someone who lied next to me, staring up at the stars that mapped out the life we had planned on sharing together.
“Dating isn’t a priority for me, Jules,” I tell my best friend, not wanting my emotion to pour out with my voice. “My business is.”
“Both can be true at the same time.”
My best friend’s argument knocks me in my chest like a heavy rock. I nervously chew on the inside of my cheek, taking credence with her words. She has a point, even if I’m reluctant to admit it. I stare at the wad of gum stuck to the side of the curb before swinging my gaze back over my shoulder at the bar.
“Is he even single?” I think back to the last time I went on an actual date. It’s not that I’m against the idea of dating; I just haven’t found anyone who sees me for more than who I am on the surface. It’s hard to find an all-consuming kind of love when you’ve already experienced it once before. Mine just happened to be when I was seventeen. Sometimes I wonder if we’re only meant to find that kind of love once in our lifetime, and my chance has already come and gone. It’s part of the reason why I’ve abandoned my dating life to collect dust and cobwebs.
“As far as I know, he is.” Julianna inhales deeply. Her voice perks, picking up on my very slight interest.
“That’s reassuring,” I mutter unenthusiastically.
“Come on.” Julianna shamelessly begs. “I’m almost certain he’s single. Holt told me he hasn’t seen or heard him talk about any other women for a long time. Just sit down and have one drink with him. For me?”
I swallow and look down at my feet again. My bare legs have practically turned into two sticks of ice at this point. I’m surprised my best friend is so focused on my love life. Maybe it’s easier for her to look at mine with hope and possibility rather than her struggling relationship with Taron .
Finally, a cab pulls alongside the curb in front of me. I stare at my reflection in its window, watching the white puff of air leaving my mouth with every breath I exhale. Swallowing the doubt I have about Julianna’s not-so-subtle set up with this stranger, I think of my business. I’ve worked so hard these past five years to get where I am, and I can’t pass up the opportunity to become a bigger success. I don’t have to walk into this bar and sit with him thinking about this as a blind date. It’s a business meeting—one I desperately need.
“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea to date the man who is going to potentially help me franchise, Charleigh’s Florals .” I huff, shoving my hand into the pocket of my peacoat. “But… okay. One drink.”
“Yes.” Julianna squeals. “Perfect.”
I roll my eyes and spin on my heel, leaving the waiting cab where the sidewalk meets the street. Swallowing the lump of nervousness in my throat, I fully considering the fact that I’ll now be meeting this stranger by myself because Julianna happened to come down with a case of food poisoning.
A blast of heat slams against my face the moment I step through the threshold of the bar, swallowing me whole. Despite my hesitance about meeting this stranger without a clue as to who he is, I’m thankful I’m at least inside now, soaking in the warmth. It’s a comfort to my anxiety ridden nerves.
I elbow my way past several of the patrons, who are packed in like sardines, but I keep my phone pressed to my ear, hoping Julianna’s voice drowns out the loud chatter surrounding me.
“So, how am I supposed to know who I’m looking for?”
“Oh…” Julianna pauses. “Um, hang on. I’ll search him up and send you a screenshot of his picture.”
“What’s his name?” I ask, but she must have already pulled her phone away from her ear.
While I wait for Julianna to get back on the phone, my stomach twists into tighter knots, anxiety and nerves taking over. I’m tempted to sneak my way over to the bar and flag down a bartender. A shot of tequila would make a quick cure for the nerves.
My shoulders fall when I don’t spot an opening within the crowd. There must be at least two rows of people blocking the bar. Deciding to just grab a drink when I sit down, I continue making my way farther inside.
“Okay,” Julianna breathes back into the speaker. “I just sent you his picture.”
I pull my phone away from my ear and look at the screen. No new texts or messages. “No picture. It must not have come through yet. What’s his name?”
“Oh, no,” Julianna’s voice garbles. A loud crash followed by the sound of her hurling fills my ear. I stop where I am and scrunch my nose. Instinctively, I lift my phone away from my ear until it stops.
Julianna groans in the background. “Ew. There’s nothing worse than vomiting into a toilet. I’m almost certain.”
The corner of my mouth lifts into a meek smile. “Jules?”
“I’m here,” she whines. “I should get off the phone. I feel another round coming on.”
My shoulders sink again. “Okay.” Although she isn’t physically here with me, her support over the phone has been helpful. “I love you, Jules. Feel better and keep me updated.”
“Thanks,” she grumbles. “And keep me updated about your meeting.”
“I’d say I’ll call you afterward, but something tells me you won’t be up to it.”
“Probably not.” She burps. “Oh, no, it’s happening again. I’ve got to go, Char.”
I hang up with my best friend, inhale a deep, resolving breath, and brush my hair away from my face, threading my fingers through my loose waves. I put Julianna’s suggestion of turning this into a date out of my mind. It’s only making me more nervous. Instead, I focus on the expansion of my business.
After all, that’s the reason I agreed to this meeting.
I steel my chest and square my shoulders as I stand in the sea of people surrounding me, unsure of what to do or who to look for. My conversation with Julianna plays through my mind, and I’m unable to move on from her comment about the sadness in my eyes.
I’ve fought for years to put my previous life behind me. And I hate that it’s followed me like an unrelenting shadow. The air around me is stifling, thick and heavy. It feels like men and women are closing in on all sides. Pushing through the crowd, I make my way to the other side, gasping for air once I break free.
I take a deep breath and look around as tears prick my eyes. I hate that I feel this way.
After shoving it back down, my phone pings in my hand with a message from Julianna.
Quickly swiping my thumb across the screen, I unlock Julianna’s message. The picture she sent of the man I’m supposed to be meeting has finally come through.
Just when I think I’ve regained my bearings and gifted the oxygen to my lungs, it’s sucked from my chest all over again. The blood drains from my head to my toes. My heart races, and I blink several times, convinced I’m not seeing him correctly. I must be mistaken.
But the name under his picture confirms he’s the man I’m seeing. Those same golden flecks in his green eyes. A smile that makes me go weak in the knees. A face that’s now matured and sharpened, compared to the boyish, unkempt version I once knew.
A breath hits the back of my throat when I look up from my phone. My hand is shaking, and my heartbeat is erratic, anticipating the moment when my eyes land on the him in this bar. The man I haven’t laid eyes on since I was seventeen.
The back of the space has several small tables lining each wall, with rustic-style benches set in front of each one. I scan the area until my gaze lands on the back of a stranger sitting at a table alone.
His attention isn’t on the crowd around him as he shields his face by keeping his focus trained on the phone resting in his hand.
I step closer, and the closer I get, the more my stomach sinks. I feel it in the way the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Suddenly, memories of my past life come flooding back.
Secret notes and pressed flowers.
A whisper across my skin.
A life that feels a thousand solar systems away, lost in the stars that once mapped our future. A future lost to cataclysmic events that changed us forever.
The chatter and conversation around me is muffled and garbled, like I’m submerged under water.
I stop a small distance from the table, unable to allow my sore feet to carry me farther.
His black coat is draped over the back of his wooden chair, and his red scarf is folded neatly on top of the table.
I watch as he rests the tips of his fingers around his small glass. He still hasn’t looked away from his phone as he slides the glass closer to him. He doesn’t look up or bring his drink to his lips. Instead, he slowly spins it around, never once lifting it off the table.
I study his profile, from the sharp plane of his nose to his smooth mouth. The lights of the bar aren’t as bright here as they were at the front without any string lights hanging from the ceiling on this side of the space. His face is covered with shadows, hiding the tiniest of his features .
Despite the span of time since the last time I laid eyes on him, I know exactly who he is.
My stomach takes an even deeper plunge when he finally looks up.
His face doesn’t change at the sight of me. Unlike mine.
An audible gasp escapes the small space between my lips.
“Asher?” His name falling from my mouth is like opening an old chest. The dusty remnants and memories of a past life surround me like a dark cloud. At first, saying his name feels foreign, but the more I let it linger in the air between us, the more familiar it becomes. I haven’t uttered his name in almost ten years, yet it somehow feels so normal leaving my lips. He’s changed, and if it weren’t for the confirmation in Julianna’s text, I would second guess whether this was him or not.
But even now, I have my doubts. A love like the one we had isn’t easily forgotten. A touch like his. A kiss like his. A voice like his. A love so powerful, it took years to repair the cracks he’d cut into my heart.
“Charleigh?”
That voice. It’s deeper… smoother than what I remember.
I inhale a sharp breath, unsure of the man sitting before me. My mind tells me it’s Asher, but my heart doesn’t want to believe it. It can’t believe it.
“I’m sorry, I, um…“ I nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear while I try to wrap my head around what’s happening.
Asher is here.
In New York City.
In this bar.
Sitting at a table with a drink and his perfectly folded red scarf.
I instinctively take a step back, convinced this is a mistake. Holt’s friend must be someone else. Julianna must have sent me Asher’s picture by error. Her sending him to me is a mere coincidence.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his perfect eyebrows raised, revealing his familiar, kind eyes. Everything about him has changed since the last time I’ve seen him. Everything but those.
“Oh, um, I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”
“Huh.” His eyes narrow. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Like a date?”
Again with that voice.
I hate the way it makes my heart race and my thighs clench in response.
But his words quickly register, and my cheeks redden. I cut him a glare. “No, not a date.”
“Okay.” He nods, looking from the top of my head down to my toes before meeting my gaze again.
His stare is intense but, for the most part, unaffected. His lips press together, with three lines creasing his forehead. He’s the same man I knew at eighteen, only he isn’t. His features are more prominent, fuller, and more defined. He looks his age—closer to thirty than twenty. A sharp nose is set between two piercing eyes, filled with years of silence, and the echo of a life we both once lived.
My nostrils flare from the anger bubbling inside me as he continues to size me up. The arrogance dripping from him is suddenly so blindingly obvious.
I cross my arms over my chest. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Well, you were looking at me in a way that suggests something.”
“I wasn’t suggesting anything.” He frowns.
I tighten my arms around myself to keep me grounded. Slowly, pieces of my previous life in Connecticut begin to resurface, chipping away at the new life I’ve built around it to protect myself. I feel vulnerable and exposed, as if Asher can read every thought creeping in my mind.
By this point, I’m thoroughly convinced Julianna has made a mistake. In her delirious, food poisoned state, it’s completely plausible for her to have sent me Asher’s picture by mistake.
“Well…” I nervously unravel my arms and clap my hands together. “This has been fun, but I’m going to get going.”
His stare burns a hole in my chest, and I want to rewind to thirty minutes ago before I allowed myself to step out of my apartment. No business deal is worth spending time with Asher when it’s clear we’re not happy with seeing each other.
I wouldn’t expect it to be, considering how our relationship ended years ago.
But I can’t ignore the prick to my chest when realizing how he’s treating me in this moment. As if I were the one who hurt him. As if he weren’t the one who tore my heart out and disappeared as though he’d never existed.
He lifts the glass to his mouth, his lips uncurling, then he shrugs before swallowing the rest of whatever liquid remained. He slams the empty glass down on the table, making the half-melted ice rattle against the sides.
I’m fully prepared to walk away, but something in the way he moves makes me stay.
For nearly a year since the last time I saw Asher, I imagined what it would be like if I ever saw him again, but never did I imagine a moment like this one. I can’t pinpoint the way I feel. Seeing your first love after ten years is surreal, but seeing Asher has also opened a chest I locked and shoved in a corner a long time ago.
I bite the inside of my cheek. The remnants of ash left behind from all those years ago are nothing but a ghost of a memory .
Now, we’re simply two strangers standing in the middle of a bar in New York City.
I watch him carefully as he walks around the table to move past me. He’s taller than I remember—or maybe he isn’t. The faded memory I have of the boy who stole my heart before burning it to nothing more than a pile of ash rests in the back of my mind. I also can’t ignore how good he smells or how expensive his clothes look. His hair is longer on top, cut shorter on the sides. What used to be hints of dull blond in his hair have now faded to a light brown.
Even if I let him go all those years ago and moved on, creating a life of my own, I can’t help but remember how it was back then. How, in the end, he was the one who chose to leave me .
“I was supposed to be meeting someone, too,” he finally says, pulling me out of my thoughts as he shakes his head, glancing at the gold-plated watch wrapped around his wrist.
“Oh.” I smack my lips together. “What? Like a date?”
He snaps his head in my direction, cutting me a glare with a hint of amusement. “Possibly.” He gives me a smug grin, picks up his red, cashmere scarf, and wraps it around his neck, his gold watch clanking with the motion. He’s polished and clean. Vastly different. “But time is money, and I’ve wasted enough of it.”
I’m ready to throw this night in the garbage and leave Asher behind—chalk it up to a loss and find another real estate agent to help me—but I need this. Whether I’m a glutton for punishment, my curiosity gets the better of me, or maybe it’s because my love for my business is stronger than anything else, I reach out and stop Asher before he gets too far ahead of me.
“Wait.” My hand lands on the sleeve of his black, wool coat—a hand that once touched Asher in a much different way than I am doing now. The way my fingers used to thread with his to remind us that our love would withstand anything thrown our way.
Teenage love can be grossly delusional. A fact I quickly learned the night he left.
Now, though, his coat is smooth against my palm. His eyes fall to my hand before he slowly lifts his gaze that’s burning with an intensity that shoots straight to my chest.
I jerk my hand back, realizing I’m still touching him. “Are you the real estate agent I was supposed to meet?
He considers me for a moment, avoiding my stare before looking back at me. “No. I don’t think so.” Short and to the point.
He moves to continue leaving the bar, but I stop him again. All the pieces of the Asher standing in front of me fall into place. The expensive watch and coat. The way his brown hair is impeccably groomed. The way his arrogance drips from him like all the men who hold offices on Wall Street.
“I think you are,” I tell him. “Do you know a Holt Capuleti?”
Asher’s gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing into two small slits.
A long time ago, those same eyes took my breath away. Now, they belong to a stranger. The once soft features of the boy I used to know are the hardened ones of the man standing in front of me. He backs away, and my hand falls from his arm.
He sighs, pressing his mouth into a tight line. “Nope. Can’t say I do.”
With those few words, he disappears into the crowd, and this time I don’t stop him.
I don’t believe him for one second. He knows Holt, and he was the man I was supposed to meet. Julianna’s text wasn’t a mistake.
Even so, there’s no way in hell I can hire him. The past doesn’t easily forget. It may forgive for a time, but the moments that shape our futures are always dictated by the past, no matter how far we attempt to put it behind us.
Because my business isn’t worth re-opening the pain caused by Asher.
I’ll just have to figure out another way to expand my business.