Chapter 2
NOVA
“There you are. They didn’t say you’d be delayed. Did you lose weight?” Mari demands.
I throw my arms around her. “I missed you, too.”
After landing, I rushed through the terminal, my pink bag in tow, eager to reunite with my sister.
Now, she pulls back to study me and touches my faded pink strands, a contrast to her bright platinum ones. “Harlan had some business at the airport, but he’ll find us at the car."
“You’ve still never told me how you met,” I say as we walk.
“At a work party six months ago. We were doing PR for a charity, and he was there on behalf of the Kodiaks, his new team.”
“And now you’re getting married.” I shake my head.
“Don’t sound so shocked. He’s insanely accomplished. He loves me. And he cries at sad movies.” She waves as she spots the tall man hanging up his phone and striding across the arrivals lounge. “I thought we were meeting at the car.”
“Two beautiful ladies. I couldn’t wait.”
“Nova, this is Harlan.”
His grin is quick and welcoming. Every part of him, from the tailored button-down to the firm handshake, says he’s comfortable with himself and good at making other people feel comfortable, too.
“Nova. I’ve heard lots about you.”
“I’ve heard almost nothing about you,” I admit.
Mari gasps, but he only laughs.
The way he rests his hand on her back is familiar and sweet, and there’s a pang in my gut.
They look fantastic together. He’s handsome and polished in gray dress pants a soft mauve shirt that looks beautiful against his golden skin.
She’s tall and curvy, wearing dark trousers and a soft sweater in the same shade that seems somehow cooler than black.
The freckles that used to come out in the summer are gone, or covered by foundation.
Any reservation I feel is protectiveness over my sister. I never thought she’d fall this hard this fast.
We head toward the arrivals area, where a sleek Mercedes waits.
“The issues resolved for tomorrow’s practice?” Mari asks.
“Not quite.” Harlan puts my bag in the back before rounding to the driver's door.
Mari sighs. “Can’t you cut him loose?”
“He’s an all-star, Mar.”
“He’s going to ruin your life.”
Harlan clears his throat as they shift into the front seats and I take the back.
“Enough shop talk. We’ll bore Nova,” he says as we pull away, reminding Mari I’m here.
“That’s true. The closest she got to sports as a kid was hopscotch. She was always doodling and daydreaming.”
“Hey!” I protest.
“One time in school, they asked what she was going to be when she grew up, and she said a unicorn.”
“It was cute,” I weigh in.
“You were twelve.”
We make conversation, Harlan asking enough questions that I barely get in any of my own.
I tell him how long I’ve been living in Boston, that the only pet I have is a goldfish named Samson whom a friend is watching for the month I’m here, and that I’ve worked the past year since graduating college as an administrative assistant at an interior design firm.
“Here we are,” Mari says as we turn into a neighborhood full of grand houses and rolling hills. The lush landscape is bedecked with manicured lawns and perfectly kept gardens.
“Cherry Hills Village,” I read off the sign, taking it all in with wide eyes.
We pull up in front of a house perched on a hill with a killer view, and we get out of the car.
The grounds are a paradise, green and full of life, stylishly landscaped to perfection, with a pond in the back nestled amongst blue spruces and bur oak trees.
“We’re still getting used to living together,” Harlan says. “Fortunately, when we fight, we have five acres to get away from each other.”
I smile. It’s impossible not to like this man. He’s warm and self-deprecating.
“We really appreciate you dropping everything to come for a month,” he goes on.
“It wasn’t a problem with work?” Mari asks.
“Not at all.”
They told me to stay away.
“Then this will be a break before you head back in the fall.” Harlan nods without waiting for me to contradict him.
Mari frowns as if the idea of a break is worrisome, but her fiancé continues.
“We’re so pleased you can stay with us. But as we’re out of the city, you’ll be needing a way to get around. I’ll lend you a car.” He points toward the garage, and I count five doors.
“There’s no way that’s full,” I gasp.
He rubs a hand over his head, sheepish, and excitement has my heart pounding.
I haven’t had my own car in… ever.
We head toward the front of the stunning house.
I notice again how tall Harlan is as he pushes open the front door and waits for Mari and me to go first.
Suddenly, Clay is back in my mind. The dark eyes, the huge hands, the tattoos.
Mari leans in. “I’m surprised Brad let you come this early. How is he?”
Her words slice through my daydream. “I’m not sure. It feels like I never see him.”
“He must be busy being a principle at the firm. It’ll be good to catch up with him at the wedding.”
A ribbon of guilt wraps around my stomach. I ignore it and flash a smile. “Are you going to give me a tour or what?”
“And this is your room.”
Mari finishes our walk of the palatial house at a doorway on the second floor.
It’s big and bright with an en-suite bathroom that makes my jaw drop. “There are two shower heads.”
“Go nuts.”
I throw my arms around her shoulders. “I’m really glad I’m here.”
She inhales. “Me, too. Though I didn’t expect you to come for an entire month. I can’t take a month off work, and I’m the one getting married.”
“Guess I’m just lucky.”
I reach for the bracelet on my wrist before realizing it’s not there.
Dammit.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“I… Nothing.”
It must be on the plane somewhere. In the bathroom or wedged in between the seats.
No.
Mari’s phone buzzes. “I need to get some work done tonight to prove I’m relevant before I disappear for two weeks.”
After Mari leaves, I lift my pink suitcase onto the bed.
I dig out my jewelry box and set it on the wardrobe, lifting the lid.
Inside are necklaces, earrings, fun things from thrift stores.
No bracelet.
It wasn’t fancy, just a simple bangle, but it was my mom’s.
I can’t believe I was distracted enough that I lost it.
My chest tightens as my gaze lands on another piece of jewelry.
I shut the box lid quickly and turn back to my bags.
Maybe I didn’t put the bracelet on today.
It’s possible I was drunk on the flight. My memories are blurry.
Blurry enough to forget what I was wearing?
Blurry enough to hallucinate a seat mate and our entire conversation?
I unpack my carry-on, putting folded clothes in the empty dresser, then reach for the front zipper.
Feeling in the front pocket for anything I missed, I hit glossy paper, tightly bound. I pull out the Sports Illustrated. When I open it, it falls open to the ripped-out page.
I trace the jagged edge and think of his warm eyes.
His strong hands.
His tattoos.
I bite my lip.
He’s real.
It felt so good. His touch, his attention. The way he looked at me as if he saw me.
But I’ll never see him again.
Which is good because I’m here for my sister, and a fresh start. The last thing I need is to be distracted by some gorgeous guy from a different world.
I drop the magazine on the wardrobe next to the jewelry box and resolve to forget him.