Everything's Better With You, page 2
“Arby?”
two
Nathan
Abby.
Her name was Abby. The girl I watched almost every day in the coffee shop, sketching in her book, reading a newspaper or gazing out of the window for hours, was named Abby.
I kept saying for weeks that I would approach her, but I always faltered at the last minute. I knew this girl was special, and I wanted to get to know her—in more ways than one—but my situation was too complicated, and I knew nothing about her.
This morning was different. Everything was getting intense, and this was my chance to see if there was something there before everything blew up.
She was everything I imagined. She was sweet, feisty, a little bit goofy and she laughed at my jokes. Most of all she was talented. I could never imagine what she could possibly be sketching in that book but when I saw I was blown away. Her designs were sweet, complicated and beautiful just like she was.
We had a date the next day and waiting would feel like an eternity. I couldn't concentrate on work I just kept imagining her sweet face and her chestnut locks piled on top of her hair in a messy bun. She gazed at me with crystal blue eyes and had a gorgeous smile that sparkled. I still can't believe I let her go. I should have persuaded her to skip work, called Chet and canceled but I couldn't. I had to let this scenario play out the way it was supposed to.
Meeting Abby changed something. I didn't know how things were going to work out, but I knew Abby had to be a part of my life.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I checked the caller ID. It was Cat. She was probably calling to talk about everything that happened the day before. I wanted to talk to her, but I also just wanted to ride the high of finally approaching my mystery girl and not let any of that bullshit ruin my mood, which was a sure thing.
Cat was my best friend. We'd known each other since we were born. Our families were old money, and we ran in the same circles. I sent her a text letting her know I’d call her later. I supposed we really needed to talk but not now.
I decided to try to forget my worries by alternating work with thoughts of Abby.
I bought the coffee shop as an escape. The Price family was well connected with extended reach and influence. My father had a hand in politics, finance, real estate and anything that would enable him to control what he envisioned as his world and everyone in it.
I started my own investment firm right after business school with my college roommate, Chet Waterford, and within five years we built a small empire of our own with offices in London, New York, Tokyo, and Beijing. It felt good to be my own man and not constantly under my father's thumb, but that didn't mean he wouldn’t try to exert his influence.
He proposed buying Waterford/Price with the gracious offer of letting me continue to run it. When I refused he tried to stage a coup by attempting to buy a majority stake. When that didn't work, he decided to bribe members of the board. All of his attempts failed, and our relationship, though always tenuous had become even more strained.
I'm his firstborn, the golden boy he's been grooming to take over Price/Covington when he retires. His attempts to wrest my company from me was his way of trying to keep me under his control. The whole episode soured me, and I decided to take a step back from the firm, letting Chet take a more active role.
I could feel myself turning into my father. I worked long hours, became obsessed with making money, and I had no one to share it with. I should say no one I wanted to share it with.
I needed to change, but I didn't know what I wanted until, by chance, I walked into the coffee shop. I saw a beautiful girl sipping coffee sitting in the big armchair in the corner. She made the place feel like home. I requested a meeting with the owner who was eager to sell and The Java Palace was mine.
It needed a lot of work. The previous owner was apparently in over his head. The place wasn't set up to turn much of a profit, so I had to start from scratch. I hired a general manager I trusted and whom had forgotten more about coffee than I could ever learn. We hired a professional to redesign the dining room. I insisted that they didn't touch the armchair. I upgraded all the systems, re-trained the staff. I put my heart and soul into my new project, and it felt good to be so hands on.
I tried to tell myself that I didn't buy The Java Palace for her but of course, I did. I would sit in my office and watch the cameras waiting for the moment when she would walk in and sit. She was so unlike the women I usually encounter, manufactured and obsessed with money. She was sweet, natural and unaffected. She was a fantasy, and with everything happening, I wondered if I crossed a boundary I shouldn't have by bringing her into my reality.
"We're gonna get you laid tonight!" Chet whooped as the black SUV pulled up to the entrance of The Gentleman's Club. I'm not a strip club guy, and Chet knows that. He, however, is a strip club guy and looks for any excuse. This time he had a good one. There was no point in refusing, but I knew I'd be thinking of Abby the whole time.
We were part of a caravan of two black SUVs. Chet, my brother, Adam and myself in one and a couple of Chet’s buddies in the other along with our security detail.
We were met at the door by an attractive woman in her late thirties. She seemed very happy to see us. The woman introduced herself as the owner and led us inside. Her earrings caught my eye. They were beautiful, and there was something familiar about them, almost like I'd seen them somewhere before. My curiosity was satisfied as she walked us past the bar.
I was surveying the club. It was large, clean and beautifully decorated. If Chet hadn't told me exactly where we were going, I would have thought we were in an upscale nightclub or restaurant, until I saw the stage. I turned my head toward the large wraparound bar, and my heart stopped.
It was her. She was behind the bar and looked completely different from any time I had seen her at the coffee shop. Her hair was down. The shiny chocolate-hued tresses that were usually piled on top of her head fell in waves past her shoulders. The wire-framed glasses, that I spent hours watching her push up the bridge of her button nose, were gone making her blue eyes sparkle. I had never seen her wearing makeup before, but it just enhanced her beauty. Her eyeliner made her eyes seem a brighter blue. Her lips wore a shiny red gloss. I imagined myself running my thumb over her ruby lips, and my cock began to respond.
She was wearing a tight black tank top emblazoned with the club's name and logo that hugged and emphasized every line and curve of her sexy little body. I'd been falling in love with her from afar for months, but the girl I fell for was different from the woman I saw in the club. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know everything.
I made my way to the bar, and she momentarily wore the same frozen expression she did when I talked to her earlier today.
“Dimple?” she asked as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Arby?” I responded.
“What are you doing here?” we said in unison. I chuckled. She grinned and bit her lip, looking away. My breath caught at the sight as I felt the blood rushing to my nether regions.
“I’m here with some of my buddies.” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder to the small crowd that had moved on without me toward a large circular table. “And I’m guessing you work here.”
“Yeah.” She motioned to her tank top. “I bartend four nights a week.”
“Do you ever…” I motioned to the stage in the middle of the floor. The thought of her gyrating and twisting in a g-string turned me on. The thought of her doing it in front of crowds of pussy hungry men didn’t. It wouldn’t change how I felt about her, though.
"Me? Up there?" She blushed a deep crimson red, and I had my answer. "I couldn't. I'd make a lot more money if I did," she laughed, "but no, I'm just a bartender."
“A bartender and a jewelry designer,” I corrected. She tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “The earrings.” I motioned to the owner. “Don’t think I didn’t recognize them from your sketch. They’re even more beautiful in 3D. You’re pretty amazing.”
She blushed again and flashed a thousand watt smile. I’d have to make a mental list to remember everything I said to make her smile like that.
"Hey, asshole!" Chet called from the table, "We just got here, and you're hitting on the first chick you see?!" I held up my middle finger, and I heard him chuckle and murmur something to the other guys at the table.
"Sorry about that." I grinned, and I was glad to see she was still smiling. I looked at the table of my friends, laughing and already popping bottles of champagne then back at Abby. There was no comparison. I'd wasted too much time already. "Do you want to get out of here?"
"Um, I can't," she motioned to the bar behind her, "I'm working, remember?"
“Ah, right,” I nodded, “Let me see what I can do about that.” She furrowed her brow again as I made my way to her boss.
“Gina, was it?” I asked. She smiled and nodded in response.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Price?” she beamed.
"I'd like to borrow your bartender for the night," I stated matter of factly. Her smile faded.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll pay whatever you need to cover her wages, revenue… whatever you need.” I waited for a response. Her brow furrowed and her face grew stern.
“Mr. Price,” She drew a deep breath before continuing. “I appreciate who you are and I’m very grateful that you chose to patronize our club, but this is not that type of establishment and Jewel is not that type of girl. We don’t lend out our employees, for any amount of money, for any patrons no matter what their last name is, so if that’s what you were expecting maybe The Gentleman’s Club isn’t the place for you.”
Realization dawned on me, and I felt the back of my neck heat up. I really should've explained my intentions a little more clearly. I saw her make eye contact with the security guard who had been watching us from the door.
“No!” It was all I could think to say. “No, you have the wrong idea. I don’t want… I’m not…” Her steely gaze turned to one of befuddlement. “I know her.” I finally managed to say. “We’re…friends?” She kept eyeing me, then some something like recognition registered on her face.
"Come with me.” She motioned with two fingers, and I followed her to the bar. "Jewel!" she called to the bar. Abby was pouring a martini and turned in our direction. "You know this guy?" Abby dumped the shaker in the bar sink, gave it a quick scrub and rinse before nodding. She turned to the register behind her and tapped the screen a couple of times before making her way over us.
“Yes.” She grinned at me. “I do.” Gina sighed.
“Well, he’s very eager to take you out, so you can leave early if you’d like.” She said, “You okay with that?”
"I am, if Jasmine is okay with it.” She motioned to her partner behind the bar. Jasmine, if that was her real name, had been watching the entire exchange with open-mouthed shock. I suspected she knew exactly who I was.
“Are you kidding?!” Jasmine practically shouted. “Yes, go! Go, go, go!”
Abby seemed to be doing some mental math in her head. After my exchange with Gina, I thought it would be a bad idea to mention that I’d also be paying her salary for the night. Gina saved me.
“You’ll be fine.” She touched Abby’s arm. “Don’t overthink this. Have fun!” She smiled.
"Okay," she shrugged. "Let me get my stuff. I'll be right back." I watched her retreating figure cross the floor. She was wearing tight black leggings and black sneakers. Her perfect ass swayed in opposition to her long brown hair. I continued to stare after she disappeared into the back of the club. I jumped when I felt Chet clap my shoulder.
“What’s going on?” He slurred, he was already buzzed. “Come to the table. We got some chicks over there.”
“I’m gonna take off,” I said, hoping to get rid of him before Abby returned and he said something stupid.
“What?!” he spluttered. “What the hell? Do you remember why we’re out tonight?”
“Yeah, I remember,” I said, wishing I didn’t.
"We're here for you, but instead of celebrating with your boys, you're all over some…" His voice trailed off, and he looked at the bar. He'd noticed that Abby was gone. "Are you leaving with the bartender?! Holy shit!" He covered his mouth with his fist, "She's hot! Get after it, you bastard!"
“It’s not like that,” I shot back. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“What the fuck is going on, Nate?” He was starting to sound sober, and that worried me more than drunk Chet. “Who is this girl?”
"I don't know. I don't know what this is," I sighed. "She's special, and I just need to figure things out."
“I think we’re past that, dude,” Chet replied.
That was the moment Abby came walking in. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and an off the shoulder t-shirt the read Sorry I’m late! I didn’t want to come. Some of her makeup had been wiped off, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was beautiful, and I was conflicted. Chet was right. This was a bad idea, but I couldn't stop myself. I was helpless in her presence.
“Hi,” she beamed up at me.
“Hi,” I smiled down at her.
“Hi!” Chet called out from behind me, “I’m Chet. I’m Nate’s friend.” I eyed him warningly. Don’t fuck this up for me. “And you are…”
"Abby.” She reached out her hand to shake his. He grabbed it and gave it an awkward kiss.
"A pleasure," he said before adding nonchalantly, "so did Nate tell you he was engaged?"
The air was sucked from the room. Chet had dropped a bomb like he was informing her that the sky was blue. Abby continued to smile as if she couldn’t have heard him correctly. My chest constricted and my heart was thumping in my chest. Everything moved in slow motion. I watched Abby slowly mouth the word what through her smile, as though she’d misheard him, only to have Chet, even more slowly, repeat the word engaged. She withdrew her hand from his as she turned to look at me for confirmation. My face must have told her the truth because her smile faded along with all of the color from her face. She backed away shaking her head.
Reality flooded in as I stepped forward. I had to talk to her. I had to explain. She turned around and ran towards the door. I tried to follow her, but I was stopped by Gina and the tall security guard.
“We had a deal,” she was glaring at me. “Jewel leaves early. You cover her shift.” I fumbled for my wallet, grabbed my black card, tossed it at her and ran for the door. “I'm adding an asshole tax!” she called to my retreating figure. I didn't care. I deserved it. I was an asshole for what I just did to Abby. I needed to talk to her, to make her understand.
She was standing under the awning in front of the club. Luckily for me, a torrential downpour kept her momentarily trapped so at least I had a chance to talk to her.
The awning protected us from the worst of the deluge, but the wind created a dewy mist that plastered her t-shirt to her body and made her face shiny with moisture but did nothing to hide the fact she was crying.
“Abby,” I began, “let me explain.”
three
Abigail
He was engaged, and he didn't say a word.
It didn't seem real. The way he looked at me and the way he made me feel when I was near him: that felt real. This felt like a nightmare that I wouldn't be able to wake up from.
The fact that it happened at work was even worse because that was the kind of display Gina expressly forbade and warned us about repeatedly. Hell, we weren't even allowed to use our real names on the floor.
It's not like it was my fault. I never told him where I worked and he seemed just as surprised to see me. It happened, and I was trapped under this awning wishing for the rain to let up so I can walk home because in my haste I forgot to grab my rain boots and umbrella. I was running late because of the man who just shattered my heart and humiliated me at work.
The same man who had just exited the club and was walking towards me.
“Don’t come near me,” I shouted. I cursed the rain for keeping me prisoner here and hoped he couldn’t see my tears.
"Abby," He started closing the distance between us. "let me explain." I took a step back, crossing my arms.
"Are you engaged?" I spit at him, knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it.
"Yes,” he said and took a step closer.
"Do you love her?" I regretted the question as soon as it left my lips. Did it matter? I took another step back, dangerously close to the rain.
"Yes."
My chest constricted, I closed my eyes, and a fresh flood of warm tears cascaded down my cheeks.
"So what is there to explain?" I sobbed, furious at myself for breaking down in front of him.
"I'm not in love with her," he said as he took a step towards me. I looked out into the rainy night. It was still coming down too hard for me to leave and I began to get a chill. "I think I’m in love with you."
I turned to face him. I couldn't believe what I just heard. He removed his blazer and stepped forward to wrap it around my shoulders. I thought about shrugging it off or refusing, but it wasn't until I felt its warmth that I realized how cold I was. I didn't want to admit this, but I loved the way it felt and the way it smelled.
It smelled like him.
It was a spicy, woodsy scent with just the faintest hint of sweat. It was intoxicating. It made me feel safe, and after everything that just happened, I couldn't believe that I was still so attracted to this man, this man who was engaged to another woman that he admitted he loved.
"Does she know you're not in love with her?" There was a hint of anger and sarcasm in my voice, but I didn't care. He was still massaging warmth into my shoulders.
"Yes, she does." He said it so matter-of-factly that I was taken aback.
"So why are you marrying her?"
