Chapter 1
Chapter
One
CHLOE
Months Later
“I’ll have the twelve-ounce steak with a baked potato, no sour cream, please,” I tell the server as I set down my menu.
The server nods. “What kind of dressing for the salad?”
“Ranch, please.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” my date asks.
Slowly, I raise my head and stare at him. Surely he didn’t just ask me that, right?
“Excuse me?”
“That’s just a lot of food for a woman. Wouldn’t you be better off ordering a salad?” he says.
I open my mouth, and nothing comes out.
He’s officially rendered me speechless.
The server clears their throat. “Sir, what can I get you?”
He places his order while I sit here completely confuzzled.
I’m confused and puzzled all at the same time. Sure, men have made some truly idiotic comments in my presence, but I genuinely don’t remember one ever commenting on the amount of food I’ve ordered.
For crying out loud, it’s a standard meal. I didn’t add anything crazy to it.
“So, Chloe, is that natural?” Dick asks.
Yes, that’s his name. Well, it’s actually Richard, but after his last comment…
“Is what natural?” I play like I don’t know what he is about to ask even though I’m not that lucky.
He waves a hand toward my hair. “That.”
“Yes, I’m a natural redhead,” I confirm.
“Have you ever thought of changing it?” he asks as he tips his head to the side.
My entire life I’ve gotten comments on my hair color.
Is it natural? Does the carpet match the drapes? On and on, but never once has a man asked me if I’ve contemplated dyeing it.
Sometimes it’s a good thing and people praise me for it. Others have literally accused me of stealing souls. Dick is obviously not about my red hair.
Fuck him.
“No,” I say as I stand.
He frowns. “Where are you going?”
“The restroom, excuse me.”
Before he can say anything, I walk away.
I’m cursed. I have to be. No one has this much bad luck.
The server sees me and shakes her head. “I told the cooks to put your order to go.”
That’s how bad it’s been. I’ve been coming to the same restaurant to meet these men. Each one of the waitstaff recognizes me and knows all about my plights. At this point, we have the routine down. I show up. Get a drink in. Then the guy always says something that there is no coming back from.
I once asked myself if I was being too hard on myself, but I don’t think it’s asking too much to find a guy who is not going to be a dick on the first date. The bar is fucking low, but it isn’t that low.
“Thank you.”
I hand her my card and she checks me out for my order.
“You can wait over there. He won’t be able to see you,” she informs me.
“You are the best.”
On the receipt, I give her a fifteen-dollar tip. Then twenty minutes later, I walk out of the back door, food in hand. The drive home is uneventful with the exception of the accident I saw. By the time I get home, my food is still warm.
After I’m done eating, I head into the bathroom. I place my phone on the counter and call Olivia. While the line rings, I turn on the bath and begin to fill the tub with water.
“Hey, boo, date over already?” she asks as soon as she picks up.
“Yep,” I tell her as I take off my clothes, dropping them on the floor.
“Didn’t it only start like forty-five minutes ago?”
“Yep.”
She pauses long enough for me to drop a bath bomb in the tub.
“Do I want to know?” she asks hesitantly.
“He told me I should have ordered a salad instead of a steak.”
I move my phone from the counter to the lid of the closed toilet on top of the towel I set there.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” she says as I slip into the bath.
I sigh as the hot water touches my skin. “Not at all.”
“Are you cursed or something? I swear I don’t know anyone who has as bad luck as you do when it comes to dating,” she says, echoing my own thoughts.
I swear sometimes it feels like we share a brain.
“I actually wondered that earlier myself,” I admit.
“I’m sorry, boo,” she sighs.
I close my eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault that men suck.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry,” she says softly.
“I think I’m going to give up on dating. Maybe adopt a cat…” I tell her the idea that came to mind when I was driving home.
“NO!”
Her sudden shout shocks me.
“What? Why not?” I argue.
“Well, first, because you’re allergic to cats. Second…just no, no pets.”
I sigh, knowing she’s right. A pet isn’t in the cards for me, not right now at least. I can barely take care of myself. The last thing I need to do is add an animal into the mix.
“You’re right. I’m just…” I trail off, not knowing how to explain what I’m feeling.
If I tell her I’m lonely, she will launch a campaign to make sure I’m never alone. While it would be nice, it wouldn’t solve the way I feel. I often feel lonely in our little group.
“Look, Chloe, I know it sucks, but I promise you, there is a guy out there that’s meant just for you. Your prince charming is out there, and he’s going to love you for who you are. Quirks, red hair, and all. I know it.”
“Yeah, well, if he could hurry up and find me, that would be great because these self-induced orgasms are for the birds,” I say, making her laugh.
“I could say I remember, but I don’t,” she muses.
I roll my eyes. Lucky bitch. At least she’s nice enough not to rub it in my face that her husband is generous in the bedroom. Something I’m sure she never wanted me to know, but I accidentally found out when their hotel room butted up against mine.
“Anyway, tell me something good. How’s our girl?” I ask.
Like the good friend she is, Olivia launches into updating me on everything Ari is into.
It’s crazy to think about how fast she’s growing up.
I swear it was just yesterday Olivia and I were in the delivery room and I watched Ari come into this world, kicking and screaming.
Before I know it, the water is cooling down to the point where it becomes slightly uncomfortable.
“Oh, what do you think about getting together with Adrianna sometime? Doing like a girls’ night?” she asks.
Adrianna is a new fixture in our life. She somehow got the grumpy Eli to admit he has real feelings. For that, she is a superhero.
“Sounds good as long as she doesn’t have an issue with our version of girls’ night,” I say as I stand, reaching for a towel on the rack.
“I could see her being open to watching a new true crime doc. It would give her inspiration in case Eli steps out of line.” She laughs, making me smile.
Knowing Eli, he would do it just to get on her nerves. Even while in love, those two love to piss each other off. It’s some form of weird foreplay that makes me uncomfortable at times. Still, whatever floats their boat.
“Facts,” I tell her.
I step out of the tub and dry off. Once I’m done, I wrap the towel around me.
“Are you done already?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I tell her as I reach down and unplug the drain.
“That wasn’t long. Oh, I guess we have been on the phone quite a while,” she says after a moment.
“Time flies after all,” I tell her.
The pipes start making a weird noise, drawing my attention back to the bath.
What the hell? Why isn’t it draining?
“What are you going to do now?” she asks.
“Get ready for bed,” I say absentmindedly while I wait to see what it’s going to do.
“Boring,” she singsongs.
Before I can respond, chaos ensues. Instead of the water level going down, it rises, and the pipes keep making weird noises.
“Oh no.” I take a step back, right as water starts flowing over the edge of the tub.
“Uh, Chloe, what’s happening?” Olivia asks.
“I-I don’t know,” I cry out right as water starts shooting out of the pipe the showerhead is attached to.
“Chloe!”
“I gotta go, I’ll call you back.”
Grabbing my phone, I hang up before she can say anything else. While pulling up my landlord’s number, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I really am the problem.
brANTLEY
“Here we are, Mr. Gibson. Do you need anything else?” the attendant asks.
“No, thank you.”
He nods and steps out, shutting the door behind him.
I look around the suite and sigh. Visibly, the box is dated but comfortable. I walk over and sit in the middle of the room and look out. This arena is older, but it has a certain energy to it. There are banners hanging in the rafters, declaring all the years this team has taken the cup home.
History.
This place has history that even I can’t help but be a little bit jealous of.
Soon. Soon we will have one of those banners hanging in my arena.
I love hockey. Not just the game, but the fans and everything else.
Something about it makes me happy. So when the chance to buy the Boston Foxes fell into my lap, I jumped in, headfirst. I built a new arena, rebranded, and started to rebuild.
I’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it, and yet it doesn’t feel like enough.
Just a little longer. I just need a little longer and to pick the right players. That’s all.
The door opens right as guys start to take the ice.
“You’re late,” I say without looking over my shoulder.
“How are they looking?” Louis, my adviser, asks as he sits next to me.
“They just took the ice to warm up,” I deadpan.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him roll his eyes, but I don’t call him on it.
“I meant overall, and you know it.”
“They are good. The couple of veterans we have so far have taken the younger ones under their wings. No clashing personalities yet, but give it time.”
Louis hums. Something that sets me on edge. It’s not the action itself that bothers me, but the fact that he does it every time he tells me something I don’t want to hear.
“I RSVP’d for you to go to the Project Clean event.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to be seen. You need to raise money for all this.” He waves his hand toward the rink. “Well, unless you’ve finally decided to wise up and sell.”
“You know that’s not an option,” I say firmly.
“Then you have to go to the charity event,” he tells me.
“Again, why?”
Louis sighs, like I’m the one causing problems. “Because it will look good. Wealthy people will be there. You can network. Talk one of them into joining forces with you.”
“I don’t need a partner,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Yes, you do, unless you plan on asking one of your friends. This whole project is a sinking ship.”
“You know I won’t go there, Louis, besides, we’re doing better. Tickets and gear are being bought. Profits are up,” I remind him.
“They are, but they aren’t good enough. You can’t keep pouring all of your money into this or you’ll go broke. You need help.”
“We both know I’m not going to go broke,” I snap.
Louis sighs. “You know what I meant.”
The guys start to circle the ice and interact with the fans. I can’t help but smile as I spot some of our colors spread across the stands. It’s not much, but it’s a start. It’s proof that what I’m doing is working.
Logically, I know Louis is right. I should bring in investors to help offset the costs. On the other hand, though, pride stops me from taking the step. I want to do this on my own. I want this to be mine and mine alone.
When you grow up in a generationally wealthy family, money is just an object.
You earn it and then you spend it. When I was born, alongside all the other members in my family, my grandparents set up a trust in my name.
One that started doling out an allowance when I was eighteen and was fully transferred over on my twenty-fifth birthday.
My parents had done the same, only I couldn’t access it until I turned thirty.
Then when I graduated college, my parents and grandparents sat me down.
They gave me two options: join one of the family businesses, or they would give me a hundred thousand dollars to start my own.
I started my own. First, I started out with a bar, much to their dismay.
One turned into two, which then turned into ten.
While doing that, I also silently invested in a restaurant with a guy I met in college who was a chef.
Lamar is a wizard in the kitchen but doesn’t work well working under someone.
On opening night, we had three well-known food reviewers for massive publications.
All three were blown away by our menu and Lamar’s abilities in the kitchen.
When we got our first Michelin star two years in, we knew it was time to expand.
We now have six restaurants spread throughout the country.
While I love the bars and restaurants, they don’t feel like they belong to me.
They were just smart business decisions.
The kind that more than doubled my net worth.
At the end of the day, though, I want a business that feels like just mine.
I want to take something that was once failing and turn it into gold.
I know I’m crazy, and that it’s a risk. One that Mason, Eli, and Max have all repeatedly told me I should be careful of, but I’m all in. If I asked, they would open their wallets and jump in. No questions asked. I won’t do it, though. I can’t.
“I’m serious, you need investors, or this time next year, we are going to have to sit down and discuss the amount of money going out.”
I shut my eyes and sigh. This feeling of failure falls onto my shoulders, something I’m not accustomed to.
Why is this so hard?
“Fine,” I mutter.
“Fine?”
“Fine, I’ll go to whatever the event is called and network.”
“And drop a nice donation,” he advises me.
I roll my eyes. Of course, he wants me to spend money in order to make money. It’s fine when it’s his idea, but not mine. Some days I wonder why I hired a business adviser at all.
“Obviously. Now can you stop talking? The game is about to start.” I focus back on the ice.
“You’re an ass, you know that, right?” He huffs as he stands.
“Where are you going?” I call out to him.
“Back to the hotel.”
I scoff. “You aren’t staying? After you put up such a fight to come with.”
“You know I don’t like hockey. I matched with a woman, and we are meeting up for drinks. Have fun with your game.” He winks.
Only when he shuts the door behind him do I take a deep breath. As I stare down at the ice, I remind myself that this will all be worth it.
All great things are worth the wait. Nothing was built overnight.
Time. I just need time, and hopefully it won’t cost me everything.