The NYCE Girls!

by Raquel Belle

  Without thinking, I step towards him and slap him hard across the face. The noise echoes through the hall, and Jason, shocked, steps back holding the side of his face—which is already turning red. With that SLAP, I let out all my rage, all my embarrassment, all my hurt. With that slap, I end it all. This entire fucking mess. Just wait until you’re alone to start crying, I tell myself. I can already feel the tears pricking my eyes.

  “Stay the hell away from me,” I tell Jason, who is still too surprised by my slap to say anything. My heart is pounding and every one of my senses is heightened thanks to the adrenaline racing through me. There’s a strange dull ache in my foot but I don’t pay any attention to it—all I want to do right now is get the hell out of here. I give Jason one last look, in disbelief. The man I thought I knew just saw me as a money-hungry gold digger. The man I thought I could have a relationship with was paving the path to our intimacy with deceit. The man I thought I trusted was lying to me all along. I shake my head and turn on my heel, walking away without a backward glance.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jason

  I’ve been slapped by a couple of women in my younger days—and usually for good reason. But I have to say, I’ve never been slapped by a woman because she discovered I’m rich. After the initial shock of Cara’s outburst, I can’t help but see the humor in it. But there’s no time for laughter now. The look on Cara’s face when she said, “Stay the hell away from me,” made it clear—she means stay away forever.

  “Cara!” I race after her down the hallway, the reception is still in full swing and as we pass the main room, I overhear bits of party music and see people dancing. “Please, just let me explain.”

  “Explain?!” She stops short and whirls around to face me, her blue eyes crackling with fire. “I don’t need an explanation, Jason. You lied to me. That’s crystal clear. The boat? The car? That was your construction site, wasn’t it? That’s why Paulie and the rest of them listened to you!” Her voice trembles. “You came up with one bullshit excuse after another.”

  “It’s just that —” I start to launch into my explanation, wanting her to understand that I didn’t want to ruin what was growing between us. “Sometimes when girls find out about my money, it ruins things. They become inauthentic and I can just see the dollar signs dancing in their eyes. These gold digger types—”

  “Gold…digger…types?” She drops each word like a bomb. Shit, I shouldn’t have gone there. “So you were worried I was one of these gold digger types? And that’s why you had to go out of your way to conceal your real identity, feeding me crap about your work in construction?”

  “It wasn’t crap, Cara. That’s really who I am. I’m just a construction guy who made some smart business decisions.”

  She snorts derisively. “How about not stacking up more lies upon lies, Jason? Don’t try to paint a pretty veneer over it now. You lied. Period. That means I can’t trust you. And if I can’t trust you, I can’t be with you.”

  “Cara, please let me explain. I shouldn’t have used the words gold digger. Of course that’s not who I think you are.”

  “There’s nothing else to explain. You deceived me. And now my relationship with my sister is ruined.” She turns around and keeps walking. It’s then that I notice the trail of tiny red dots behind her. My heart drops and my breath catches in my throat at the sight.

  “Cara! Please, you’re bleeding! Your foot.”

  She pauses and looks down, dumb shock written on her face. She’s still barefoot from when she kicked off her shoes to chase Laura. One of the shards of the broken champagne glasses must have cut her. In surprise, she stops long enough for me to catch up with her—I instinctively kneel to examine her foot, reaching my hand out.

  “Don’t touch me,” she says before I can get any closer. She kicks her foot angrily at me and sends a small splatter of blood onto the floor as she does. I can see a tiny cut on the heel. “It’s fine.”

  “Let me at least get you your shoes.”

  “Now you want to play knight in shining armor again, huh? Not worried I’ll just up and grab your money?”

  “Cara, please, you’re hurt.” I look up at her.

  “Fuck you. This cut,” she waves a hand clumsily at her own foot, “is nothing compared to the damage you’ve inflicted…on me…and on my relationship with my sister.”

  I stare at her, dumbfounded. With that, she walks straight out the door into the summer evening outside, her head held high, and gets into a waiting taxi—some of them had lined up in anticipation of the departing guests. She doesn’t even bother to go back for her shoes. I’ve never had a woman try so hard, so fast, to get away from me. Once she’s in the car, her shoulders slump forward, she puts her hands over her face, and she starts crying. My heart aches at the sight. The car pulls away and that’s my last glimpse of her.

  I give a heavy sigh and turn back towards the reception. I’m in no mood to party now.

  “All good, buddy?” Thomas, clearly wasted but still sober enough to manage looking smug, appears in front of me.

  “Not quite.”

  “Sorry about that back there,” he shrugs. “I kinda figured the cat was outta the bag.”

  “Yeah. It was.” I can’t blame this on Thomas, as annoying as he is. “It was bound to come out anyway.”

  “So you’re really into her, huh?”

  “Cara? Yeah. I am.”

  “Want my advice?”

  Dammit, Thomas is the last person I want advice from right now. Luckily, I’m saved by the buzzing of my phone. I slide it out of my pocket and glance at the screen, naively hoping that it might be Cara, but it’s Jared.

  “I just have to get this call, man,” I tell Thomas. I step outside into the evening air. “Hey bro.” I greet Jared.

  “Hey.” He doesn’t say anything else and just waits—presumably for my apology. Fair enough.

  “Look, I’m sorry that had to happen just now.”

  “Pretty shitty timing, man.”

  “I know.” I clear my throat. “Can I make it up to you and Laura somehow? Maybe an upgrade to first class and a luxury suite for your honeymoon?”

  “You can’t just throw money at this, Jason. This isn’t a construction project that’s gone wrong that you can fix with some of your billions. This is about people and their feelings.”

  “Do you have time to meet up before you leave?”

  “We’re headed to the airport in an hour. And until then I have to handle Laura. She definitely doesn’t want to see you or Cara—and I can’t leave her here alone.” As he says the words, I hear a muffled sob in the background and then the sound of a door slamming. Clearly Jared isn’t getting to spend his first night as a newlywed the way he would’ve hoped. Fuck, I think to myself, feeling even shittier about the whole mess.

  “Alright, then I guess the phone will have to do.” It’s a warm summer’s night and as I talk, I start walking, following the narrow streets towards Boston’s historic inner city. I have no set goal in mind. I just need to keep moving. “Look, first I need you to understand that this was all my fault. Basically Cara and I met the day before that family brunch at the house. Neither of us knew who the other one was. We had a date and hit it off. Then, when we found out the truth the next day, we thought it would be better to just keep everything under wraps. At least until the wedding was over.”

  “So you were planning to see her after the wedding? This wasn’t just some dumb fling where you screw over my wife’s sister?”

  “No, Jared! I’m crazy about Cara! She was the one who was hesitant. She even tried to end things a couple times because she was worried about how Laura would feel about everything.”

  “What’s he saying? What’s your sleazy big brother saying? Making excuses?” I hear Laura’s voice faintly from the background.

  “Babe, let me just talk to him first, okay?” Jared murmurs and then returns his attention to me. “So you’re really into her?”

  “Yeah. I wan
ted to talk to her tonight and tell her that I wanted to keep things up in New York. Exclusively. And maybe… I don’t know, little bro. I haven’t felt this way in a long, long time. I wouldn’t have jeopardized your and Laura’s big day if it was just some random fling, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Uh, do you want to put Laura on so I can apologize?”

  “He wants to talk to you,” Jared directs his voice at Laura.

  Seconds later I’m greeted by sniffling…and a tear-filled voice croaks out a weak “hi.”

  “Hey Laura. Look, I wanted to apologize before you leave. That was incredibly stupid of me. There are three things I need you to know though.”

  “Ok.” There’s the rustle of a tissue and a hearty nose-blow almost bursts my eardrum.

  “First, this is all on me. Cara has been prioritizing you this entire time.”

  “Sure,” Laura says sarcastically.

  “I’m serious. She tried to end things with me more than once because she was worried about you.”

  “But what the fuck was that today?”

  “A bad judgment call on my part.”

  “What was the second thing?” She asks with an exasperated sigh. At least she’s stopped crying.

  “I want you to know that I’m actually crazy about Cara. This isn’t some sleazy fling.”

  “Whatever,” she grunts. But in that one slight word, I can hear a hint of relief. I smile. Clearly these two sisters love each other a lot. Even though she’s pissed at her now, Laura also wouldn’t want Cara getting screwed over by some asshole. “Point three?” She asks bluntly.

  “As an apology I’d love to upgrade you and Jared for your honeymoon. First class tickets, luxury suite, the works.”

  “I guess that’s fine,” she says gruffly but I can hear a note of excitement in her voice.

  “Cool. I’ll take care of it right after this call. Consider it done.”

  “Fine,” she huffs. “Here’s Jared.” As she passes the phone back to him, I hear her excitedly whisper “he’s going to upgrade us!” I grin to myself. At least that’s one problem solved. Laura and Jared won’t stay mad at me forever.

  “Thanks, man.” Jared is back on the line.

  “Sure.”

  “We should get going to the airport.”

  “Alright little bro. Have a great time on your honeymoon.”

  “I’ll try.” Jared sounds grim but in the background I can already hear Laura rustling around and humming quietly. At least they won’t start their honeymoon off with tears.

  “Just text me your flight info and the name of your hotel in Jamaica. Then I’ll take care of the upgrades.”

  I end the call, get the info I need from Jared, and pass it on to my assistant with an urgent message. He confirms within minutes that he’s on the case—another ten minutes later, it’s all taken care of. I make a mental note to double his Christmas bonus this year.

  With that out of the way, I try calling Cara but it goes straight to voicemail. She’s not responding to my texts either. Has she blocked me? I stop to get my bearings. When Jared and I were talking, I just started walking, needing to get out the pent-up energy and frustration. I’m now not far from Boston’s historical inner city. I can already see the telltale redbrick buildings down the next street.

  If Cara won’t take my calls, I can find her at the hotel. I’m determined to get to her before she leaves for New York and dives back into her everyday lawyer life. I have to give her the good news that things with Jared and Laura have been smoothed over—roughly, but it’s a start. And I have to tell her what I’ve been wanting to tell her all day…that she’s the only woman in Boston, New York, or all of fucking America that I want to be with.

  I walk faster, feeling my heart rate quicken as I set off for The Old Boston Inn. By the time I get there, I’m sweating through my tuxedo shirt and carrying the jacket—now crumpled—in my hand. As I race through the revolving glass doors at the front of the hotel, I see the doorman give me a sidelong look, his eyebrows raised slightly. Fair enough. I must look crazy.

  “What can I do for you, sir?” The woman at the reception is friendly but likewise eyes me with some suspicion.

  “I’d like to speak to Ms. Conley, in room 455,” I tell her. “Please,” I remember to add.

  “One moment, sir.” The receptionist carefully sets aside some paperwork and then dials. She’s moving so slowly I’m ready to scream. She listens as the phone rings and then hangs up after a few moments. “Hmm,” she turns to the computer in front of her and clicks through it for a moment. The sound of her nails on the keyboard is going to drive me insane. And then she drops the bomb… “Room 455 has checked out.”

  “Fuck!” The word bursts out of me.

  “Excuse me?” She arches an eyebrow at me.

  “I’m sorry. Not you. I mean, it’s not your fault. I just had a very urgent message. For room 455.” I back away from the reception desk, my hands up defensively. Jesus, Jason, get it together.

  I run my hand through my hair in exasperation and head back out into the summer night. What now? If Cara has checked out, she’s presumably on her way back to New York. Which means there’s no reason for me to hang around Boston anymore. My business here is done. I’d only been sticking around for the wedding these last few days…and for Cara.

  I start walking back to my own hotel, while my mind is still going a mile a minute. I’ll just grab my stuff, hop in the Porsche, and go. Shit, I remember suddenly—the boat. I was planning to get it back to New York at the end of this visit. I’ll just leave the car in the garage at the hotel—I have a permanent spot. It will take me a little longer with the boat but I might need it in New York if I’m going to win Cara back…

  Tomorrow is Monday, a brand new week. I know Cara’s name and can easily find out where her office is. I can even find out where she lives if I have to. Money gives you resources. It won’t take a private detective more than a couple hours to track her down.

  Am I being crazy? Maybe. But I can’t let Cara just become a ghost and disappear from my life…drifting away—not without talking to her first. The moments we shared while we were here in Boston flash through my mind as I make the trek up to my hotel—our first kiss under the street light in front of The Old Boston Inn, her shocked face at brunch when she found out who I was, that steamy moment in the dressing room, her head resting on my shoulder when we had coffee on the boat the other morning…

  There’s something special between us. I know it and so does Cara—I’m sure of it. I just need to make it clear to her that I wasn’t trying to be deceitful when I hid the truth about my money. It’s not like I really “hid” things anyway. I might not have come out and said “hey, I’m a billionaire,” but I certainly didn’t say “I’m not.” So I’m not about to let some dumb misunderstanding come between me and the most enchanting woman I’ve ever met.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cara

  I expected to come back from Laura’s wedding feeling refreshed and invigorated. After all, it was the first vacation I’d taken since starting my law firm. Instead I returned to New York exhausted and defeated—and with a lovely cut on my foot. Thank god I didn’t need stitches. As soon as I was out of Jason’s sight, I took a closer look and saw that the cut wasn’t that serious. Still, it hurt enough to make wearing heels a pain.

  Since I’ve been back, it’s been the longest 48 hours of my life. I’ve been trying to catch up on the Santiam Pharmaceuticals case while recovering from the emotional hangover that I brought back with me from Boston on Sunday night. Now it’s Tuesday, but the pain—in my heart and my freaking foot—is still fresh.

  I’ve tried contacting Laura multiple times over the past two days but she’s ignoring my calls. The only thing that’s kept me sane the last couple days is the prospect of reuniting with Beth, Grace, and Jazz at our favorite coffee shop this evening—which is what I’m preparing for now. The original plan for my return from Boston w
as to get together for cocktails on Friday but after the past weekend’s events, I called an emergency session…and my best friends were sweet enough to put their plans on hold and rearrange their lives so that they could accommodate me for a last-minute Tuesday night meeting. I’ve never needed to talk to them more urgently.

  I clear the last pile of papers off my desk just as my assistant, Amy, pokes her head into my office.

  “All set, Cara?”

  “Yeah, thanks Amy. You can head home for the day.”

  “Uh, there’s one other thing.” She pauses, clearly unhappy that she has to be the bearer of bad news. “Don’t shoot the messenger but another bouquet of flowers came today.”

  “Do the same as with the rest.”

  “Just trash them?”

  “Trash them. Or take them home, if you want them. I certainly don’t.”

  “Okay.” She hovers uncertainly before going on, “There was a note. Do you at least want to read it?”

  “Nope. Trash it.” I look down at my desk as I shuffle around some papers, hoping she can’t see the tears welling up in my eyes.

  “Okay then. Have a nice night,” she says quietly, shutting the door gently behind her. It’s the third bouquet of flowers Jason has sent since I’ve been back home. Another crap apology gift. I’ve been ignoring them all. With Laura still not taking my calls and nothing resolved between us, Jason is the last person I want to hear from.

  Anyway, I expect he’ll move on soon and direct his attentions elsewhere. On Sunday, the only thing I could think of was getting away from him as quickly as possible. By the time I had calmed down a bit on Monday morning, my curiosity got the better of me. Sitting at my desk with my coffee in hand yesterday, looking for a way to procrastinate and avoid the stack of paperwork on my desk—all related to the Santiam Pharmaceuticals case—I couldn’t resist putting his name into Google. So I typed in “Jason Levine” and spent a good hour combing through the search results.

  Jason Levine isn’t just a billionaire property mogul. He’s a man about town—just like everyone said. The paparazzi have photographed him time and again with gorgeous girls, many of them well-known socialites. I even recognize one of the names, a gallery girl named Clarissa something-or-other. Her father is a well-known attorney, famous for taking on scandalous celebrity clients—as well as for his own multiple marriages and divorces. Clarissa is rich, successfully running her own gallery…and absolutely gorgeous. And Jason was seen with her less than a month ago. There’s no doubt in my mind that simple Cara Conley was just a distraction in Boston. Jason Levine can get any girl he wants. Maybe I was appealing to him in Boston, but back in New York, where women like Clarissa are roaming the streets, he won’t stay interested for long.