Flawed: A Love Letters Novel

by Kristen Blakely

  They had all left.

  Tears leaked from her eyes. Outside, the sounds faded, leaving her in peace. Anger faded, leaving her empty.

  Chapter 8

  Jake stalked into the restaurant, grabbed Colin off the bar stool, and slammed him against the wall. “What the hell was that about?”

  “You were fucking my girl.”

  “She is not your girl. I took her home last night because you were practically having sex with two other women in front of her.”

  Colin flushed.

  “And you did, didn’t you? You screwed those two girls in my living room.”

  Colin’s face hardened. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you, moving in on a buddy’s girl. You don’t do shit like that.”

  “We both met her for the first time three days ago.”

  “I took her on a date first. Almost got to second base.”

  “It doesn’t make her your girl. Get your ego back in line.”

  “I would have gotten her all the way if not for you. Don’t you think I noticed the way she watched you?”

  Jake inhaled sharply. “She was never your girl,” he said quietly.

  Colin ground his teeth. His fist punched out.

  Jake’s head snapped back. The momentum of the blow carried him a full circle, and he swung his fist out. Colin staggered into a table, tipping it over. Drinks spilled across table. Glasses shattered on the floor as guests scrambled out of the way.

  Grunting, Colin shoved to his feet.

  “Hey, man, don’t.” Alex grabbed Jake’s arm as Brad held Colin back. “You’ll get all of us banned from here. Not cool. Take it outside.”

  His fists clenched, Jake strode out of the restaurant. The evening air was like an icy smack to the face. Jake shook off Alex’s restraining hand and turned to face Colin, who paced like a caged lion. Jake stood as still as a statue; he did not take his eyes off his partner. If Colin sucker-punched him once more, there wouldn’t just be a fight. There would be an end to the partnership.

  “I wanted her,” Colin snarled.

  “Not enough to treat her the way she deserved to be treated.”

  “She was a fucking tease.”

  “She didn’t want you. Leave her out of it. We both know this isn’t about Ariel. It’s about you and me.”

  “Damn right it is! You’re holding us back. You’re holding me back.”

  “You’re the one who bailed on training today because of your massive hangover.”

  “Don’t make this about me. I wanted to meet last week, but you couldn’t because you couldn’t find the money to change your flight tickets.”

  “Damn it, Colin. We planned our travel schedule a year in advance—”

  “Plans change, asshole, but you can’t seem to roll with it. We need more training together if we’re ever going to make the cut.” Colin’s face pulled into a scowl. “Let me make this perfectly clear to you. You either find a sponsor so you can train full time, or you keep fucking that little sugar mama of yours. I don’t care which, but you’ve got two weeks to find time for me, or I’ll find another partner!”

  Chapter 9

  As soon as the sun rose the next morning, Jake walked into the Ritz-Carlton and took the elevator up to Ariel’s suite. His thoughts still whirred—Colin’s ultimatum left him with few choices and little time—and he desperately needed to see Ariel.

  No complications, he had promised the both of them, but things had become incredibly complicated in just three days. He slumped against the door. “Ariel. It’s Jake. Can we talk, please?”

  She did not come to the door. She did not even tell him to shut up and go away.

  Frowning, Jake glanced down and saw the edge of a piece of paper that had been slipped under the door. He eased out the envelope and opened it; it was a zero-balance bill from the hotel.

  Ariel had checked out.

  A cold fist clenched around his heart.

  He had no way of reaching her. He knew nothing about her, really, other than her name and brief mentions of Los Angeles and New Hampshire, but his eyes narrowed as he studied the last line of hotel invoice.

  A copy of this bill has been sent to your e-mail account at lhf@herald.com.

  Chapter 10

  Ariel drew in a deep breath as she stepped into the familiar interior of Escapades. The pounding music pulsed a welcome. From behind the sound box, the deejay waved at her, and several waitresses called out a greeting.

  Her heartache was brutally raw, but she could feel the tension seep out of her shoulders. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips. It was so good to be back.

  When she knelt to stuff her tote bag under the bar, she heard the familiar tap of tiny heels behind her. The warning gave her sufficient time to brace herself for Noelle the Irrepressible Busybody.

  “Weren’t you supposed to be away longer?” Noelle asked.

  Ariel straightened and turned to face Noelle. “The soul searching didn’t take nearly as long as I expected.”

  “Did you meet a man?”

  “Yup.”

  “Did you have a fling?”

  “Yup.”

  “Did you screw his brains out?”

  “Yup.” She hoped she did not wince too visibly.

  “And finally, most importantly, did he screw your brains out?”

  Ariel hesitated for a moment. “Yup.”

  “And she does it!” Noelle flung her arms in the air. “A perfect four out of four for Ariel Falconer, who very handily nails her man in under three days.” Her smile slipped for a moment and she gave Ariel a narrow-eyed stare. “He was cute, wasn’t he?”

  “Yup.”

  “Young?”

  “Yup.”

  “Legal?”

  Ariel frowned at Noelle. “What kind of question is that?”

  “Just covering all the bases.” Noelle did not sound apologetic. “More personality than a wet blanket?”

  “Yup.”

  “Brains? You know, someone who’s able to say more than just ‘yup?’”

  “Yup.”

  The little sound of irritation Noelle made was no more intimidating than a snarl on a chihuahua. “Come on, spill the beans. I want to hear all about it!”

  “There’s nothing to tell. We met and we had sex.”

  “So what did he do to send you scrambling back home?”

  Ariel glared at the little blonde.

  “Come on.” Noelle tapped her foot on the tiles. “You wouldn’t have left an all-expense-paid, five-star vacation halfway through unless something truly awful happened. Did he turn out to be a married man with four kids?”

  “No, he’s not in a relationship of any sort.”

  “Good, keep going.”

  “He’s not looking for a relationship of any sort.”

  “Well, neither were you, right?”

  “Right,” Ariel said.

  “So, no complications?”

  The claw digging into her heart ripped a half-sob out of her.

  Noelle’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She hustled Ariel into the ladies bathroom, which was mercifully empty. “What happened? What did he do to you?”

  Ariel blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. “He thought I was rich.”

  “So?”

  “He was looking for a sugar mama.”

  “So?”

  Ariel said nothing.

  Noelle tipped her chin up. “The Ariel I know would have thought it all hilariously funny. You’d have found a way to gently refuse him without damaging his ego—the way you turn down all those marriage proposals from men drinking their heartache away. So what’s different this time?”

  “I thought he was different.” Ariel leaned against the sink. “He had big dreams, and he would never let anything get in their way, but he seemed to understand me. He helped me realize that my dreams were different from what I enjoyed doing.” She sniffled. “I wanted to be an actress, but auditions always made me panicky, which is probably why I flubbed
every single one of them. I hated acting; I hated the pressure of having to say the right thing and do the right thing under the spotlight. He helped me realize how much I enjoyed the stuff I was already doing, like surprising people with mixed drinks that were just exactly what they wanted, and listening to people talk and learning about the world from them. He said I would probably enjoy bartending, and he was right. I do enjoy bartending. I always did; I just didn’t realize it until he told me.”

  “And then you started falling in love with him, didn’t you?” Noelle finished quietly.

  “I complicated things,” Ariel confessed. “He seemed amazing, and the chemistry between us was explosive.” She shook her head. “I screwed it up. I made more of it than I should have. In the grand scheme of things, I met a great guy and had great sex. That’s what I wanted, right?”

  “It’s okay to want more.” Noelle’s eyes were sympathetic.

  “Not from him, though. It’s quite clear what he needs, and it’s not me.”

  “Then he’s an idiot.”

  “No, though you’re sweet for saying so.” Ariel managed a faint smile. “Jake’s got bigger and better dreams than most people; they’re within his reach, and he wants to get to the top.” She shrugged. “He’s just doing the same thing Leon did.”

  “Leon Kinrath was a rat’s ass. You’re better off without him. I never liked him.”

  “You’ve always had good instincts about people.”

  Noelle grinned. “A waitress has to be. So, does the fact that you’re back here mean that you’ve agreed to stay on as interim manager?”

  “I think so. All that insatiable curiosity on running a club might as well pay off.”

  “Mark’s going to be thrilled. Did you tell him yet?”

  “I’m on my way to do just that.” As soon as she dried her eyes and repaired her makeup.

  Noelle’s grin widened into a flash of white teeth. “Congrats, boss, and welcome back!”

  Welcome back, indeed.

  Her first day back at work had defined a new level of frantic. Whenever she could duck out from behind the busy bar, she shadowed Mark. Two waitresses called in sick, so she got a crash-course in reassigning sections without pissing off anyone involved in the change—which didn’t work. A clumsy busboy resulted in a lesson on the cost of breakages.

  When the club closed, she stayed back with Mark to wrestle with the nightmares of tallying the evening’s revenue.

  Suppressing a shudder, Ariel leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “Now I remember why I hated math in high school.”

  “The computer program is doing all the math,” Mark said.

  “It’s not the process. It’s how the numbers always look smaller than you want them to.”

  Mark chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve always sort of noticed that myself. This isn’t a bad night’s tally, though, for the time of year.” He, too, slouched in his chair. “How was the deep end?”

  “Too deep to touch or even see the bottom, but you’re a pretty handy lifesaver to have around.”

  He shrugged. “Fifteen years of being in this business teaches you lots of stuff. You’ve picked up a lot of the customer-facing stuff just by being behind the bar. Now it’s time to learn the rest.”

  “How long before you pack up and head to San Diego?”

  “Nine days.”

  “Any chance of you putting it off?”

  Mark shook his head. “I’m delaying it as much as I can. You’ll be fine. Besides, I’m just a phone call away.”

  “I’m putting you on auto speed dial.”

  “Flattered.” He pushed to his feet. “Come on. Let’s lock up, and I’ll walk you to your car.”

  It was past three in the morning by the time Ariel arrived at her one-bedroom apartment. Combined with jetlag from her vacation on the East Coast, she was practically too tired to shower. She stripped off her clothes and tugged on an oversized T-shirt before crawling into bed. Just before she dropped off asleep, her smartphone flashed with an incoming message.

  At 3 a.m., it had to be important. She reached for her phone and saw her brother’s name on the text message. The text was succinct. “Who is Jake Hunter?”

  She scowled. What was this? Jeopardy?

  It was scarcely past 6 a.m. in New Hampshire, but if her brother was awake enough to send a text message, he was awake enough to take a call. She called his number and waited until he picked up at the other end.

  “Jeez, Ariel,” were his first words. “Thanks for calling at six thirty and waking Lily.”

  “You should have thought about it before sending a text message at three thirty. What’s this about Jake Hunter?”

  “You tell me. Lily received an e-mail message from Jake Hunter saying he met you in Fort Lauderdale and wants to get in touch with you. Lily looked him up on the internet and thinks he’s cute—not that it’s relevant. She wants to know if she should give him your contact information. Who’s he?”

  “Just a guy I met.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out. Brains; God gave them to me too.” His voice sounded distant. “Yeah, it’s Ariel.” Moments later, he spoke directly into the phone. “One sec, Lily wants to talk to you.”

  Oh, damn.

  “Ariel?” Lily sounded sleepy.

  “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “No, it’s fine. Did you leave Fort Lauderdale early to escape from Jake Hunter?”

  Ouch. Always to the point. “Uh, not precisely. My soul searching completed ahead of schedule, so I left.”

  “Okay, so you won’t mind then if I give Jake your e-mail address.”

  “Uh…” Ariel fumbled for a response. She’d forgotten that Lily’s parents were ruthless business people. Lily probably took after them and had manipulation down to an art form, albeit concealed within her sweet exterior. “I don’t know if I want to stay in touch with him.”

  “I’ll forward his e-mail, and you can decide if you want to reach out. The ball’s in your court. And Ariel?”

  “Yes?”

  “I wouldn’t be here, married to the love of my life, if Michael hadn’t given me a second chance.”

  The phone beeped.

  Ariel sucked in a deep breath and released it in a long sigh. Damn, Lily was good at sneaking in the punches. She set the phone down and willed herself not to look at it. She should just delete his message without reading it. What was the point? She didn’t need or want insincere apologies. Besides, there was no point in continuing the pretense of friendship. She was here in Los Angeles, and he was…wherever he was, traveling and playing beach volleyball. She sure as heck had no intention of flying out to see him. He needed money. She didn’t have any. He was already crunched for time, and she had nothing he needed or wanted.

  So why was he trying to find her?

  The screen of her phone flashed. She grabbed the phone off her bedside table.

  My name is Jake Hunter, and I’m trying to reach Ariel Falconer. We met while she was on vacation in Fort Lauderdale, and she left before I had a chance to get her contact information. There’s a great deal I need to tell her, and a lot more I need to apologize for. If you can put me in touch with her, I’d be grateful.

  She stared at the e-mail.

  The ball was in her court.

  Lily had strong opinions about second chances, but how screwed up did a friendship have to be to require a second chance on Day Four? Was it even worth saving?

  No complications…

  The ache in her chest pulsed painfully as she typed a response:

  Hi, Jake,

  I arrived home safely and am back at work. Enjoying it. Hope the tournament is going well for you.

  Ariel

  She stared at the “send” button.

  How bad could it be to just get the conversation going again? She and Jake were separated by miles and circumstances. Nothing was going to start up between them, but he had seemed like a promising friend before he ruined it by being a mercenary ass. Forewarned was forearm
ed. She wasn’t going to fall for him, but he had helped her turn a corner in her search for personal fulfillment.

  For that, surely she could put up with the occasional e-mail from Jake.

  Second chances trumped no complications.

  Ariel sucked in her breath and hit “send.”

  Chapter 11

  Ariel woke several hours later, well past noon, which was not unusual for her. She turned her head on the pillow to stare at the smartphone on the bedside table. Her pulse skittered; her heartbeat raced. Easy, girl. If he’s playing volleyball, he may not even have seen your message, much less replied.

  Don’t grab. Be calm, cool, and sophisticated, even if no one’s watching.

  Ah, screw it.

  She lunged for the phone and scrolled through the notifications on the screen.

  Nothing.

  She gritted her teeth. She’d expected too much, and naturally, she’d been let down again.

  The ache in her chest was sharper than she anticipated. Damn it.

  And this time, she had no one to blame but herself. She ground her teeth. To heck with him; she had to start her day.

  Her thoughts strayed frequently back to him and she did peek, frequently, at her phone throughout the day. Just as she arrived at Escapades late that evening, it buzzed to notify her of an incoming e-mail. She drew her breath in sharply when she saw the name on the screen.

  Hi, Ariel,

  This is my eighth attempt at an e-mail and it’s probably going to be no better than any of my first seven attempts. I’m sorry about what happened on your last night in Fort Lauderdale. Colin and I have had long-standing issues with each other, and you just happened to get caught in the crossfire. I won’t deny that I thought you were rich, but what happened between us was never about money; it never even crossed my mind.