Fate

by Wylder, Tia

  “You look good,” Thomas said after we were seated. “A little pale, maybe, but good.”

  I looked at him and frowned. Thomas Winsell had always been one of the biggest personalities I’d ever known – even bigger than Jack Nathan. In college, he’d gotten every single girl he’d wanted. He’d tried to pledge three fraternities as a joke, and laughed heartily when two of them started competing over Thomas. Now, he looked haggard and ten years older than his thirty-eight years.

  “I wish I could say the same,” I said darkly as I reached for my glass of merlot and took a long swig. “What’s been going on?”

  Thomas looked at me and sighed. “I don’t have to get into it,” he said. “Candy’s been a nightmare to deal with. I never thought she could be such a bitch – I didn’t even think she had it in her.”

  I sighed. “Divorce is hell.”

  “Not like you’d know,” Thomas said. He sighed. “Sorry. That was an asshole thing to say. I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head. For the first time, I noticed threads of white and grey in his dark hair. “I had no idea it could be this painful. I thought agreeing to divorce was the painful part!”

  “I wish I could tell you that was the truth,” I said slowly, not wanting to piss Thomas off. “But really, you won’t be able to tell how things will go until court.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Thomas muttered.

  “So, what happened?” I narrowed my eyebrows. “When did things start to get bad?”

  Thomas put his face in his hands. “Since the day after the wedding,” he said. “She was angry that we went to Galapagos instead of Fiji for our honeymoon, and she stayed pissed off the whole time.”

  “Christ,” I muttered.

  “And I thought about, you know, asking for an annulment,” Thomas said. “But she wouldn’t hear it. Every time I brought up the fact that she obviously wasn’t happy with me, she’d pout and cry and tell me that she loved me.” His voice turned bitter, and he shook his head. “And I listened to it all because I’m a giant fucking loser.”

  “Come on,” I said. “You act like you’re the first man to get his heart broken.”

  Thomas sighed. “I don’t want to talk about Candy anymore,” he said. “Tell me – what do you think of Los Angeles so far?”

  I looked up just in time to see a stunning woman walk past. She was wearing tight jeans that were ripped at the knee and a black silk blouse that hung from her petite frame. Her long, red hair fell over her shoulder in a golden curtain, and her pale skin practically glowed in the room. But it wasn’t just the way she looked – there was something about her, something about the way she moved and breathed.

  “Yeah,” Thomas said. He leaned back in his chair and smirked. “There are a lot of those around here.”

  “Is she…someone?” I squinted. “I feel like I’ve seen her before.”

  “I don’t think so,” Thomas said. “But she’s hot, yeah. You should get her number.”

  The urge to speak to the woman was so strong that I had a hard time pressing it down. But when I looked at the dark circles under Thomas’s eyes and his threads of white hair, I knew I couldn’t leave my friend. Not tonight, at least.

  “Nah,” I said finally. “I’m here with you, man. I’m not ditching you so I can get laid.”

  Thomas shrugged. He slurped the last of his wine and raised his hand in the air, signaling for the waiter.

  “Your call,” Thomas said. “But you’re gonna regret it if you don’t talk to her.”

  I watched as the girl made her way to the bar, climbed onto a stool, and set her clutch on the bar beside her. I wasn’t the only person looking, either – she’d attracted the attention of most of the men in the restaurant.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing myself to tear my gaze away from her stunning figure. “Like you said, lots of women like that out here.”

  “So,” Thomas said. “What are you planning, now that you’re here. Going to open another law office?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve thought about it, but part of me wants to get away from the law.”

  “If you’re dealing with cases like mine every day, I don’t blame you,” Thomas said with a wry grin. “It can’t exactly make you very happy to deal with crying ex-wives.”

  I groaned. “Some of these women are awful,” I said. “But it’s not like the men are much worse. Divorce brings out the worst in everyone. Did I tell you, this one client actually wanted me to make his ex-wife sign a contract she wouldn’t ever sleep with anyone else again?” I laughed bitterly. “The things people expect of the law are fucking insane.”

  “Sounds like,” Thomas said. He yawned. “I should be going, man, I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “We haven’t even eaten yet,” I said. The wine was sloshing around in my stomach, and I felt a little drunker than I would’ve liked to feel in public. “Isn’t this place famous for their steaks?”

  Thomas shrugged. He got to his feet and reached into his pocket for his wallet, but I brushed his arm away.

  “No way,” I said. “I’m your attorney now – this is considered a business expense,” I smirked as I pulled out my platinum card and put it on the table.

  “We barely even talked about my divorce.”

  “Yeah, well, therapy sessions with alcohol are great for bitching about the soon-to-be-exes,” I said with a smirk. “Trust me – I do it all the time in Boston.”

  Thomas nodded. “But you’re in Los Angeles now,” he said, leaning closer. “Besides, this gives you a chance to get that smoking redhead in bed with you. Consider it a gift,” he added before grinning and striding confidently out of the restaurant.

  After Thomas had gone, I stood there for a moment, feeling like an idiot. I was tired and starving and jet-lagged, but something inside of me wasn’t ready to call it a night.

  Not just yet.

  At least, not while the gorgeous redhead was still alone.

  Grinning broadly, I grabbed my card and signaled to the waiter that I was moving to the bar. I sauntered over to the bar and sat down one stool away from the redhead, leaving a space between us. As soon as I sat down, she looked up at me. Up close, she was even hotter. Her eyes were a warm, golden-brown, a hue of color of honey. And her face was delicate and perfect with a patrician nose and a full mouth.

  “Hello,” she said. Her voice wasn’t what I’d expected – it was both girlish and sultry at the same time.

  “I’m Barnes,” I said, sticking out my hand.

  The girl flushed. She put her fingers against mine and a spark leapt between our bodies. “Gianna,” she said, staring me boldly in the eye.

  “Are you waiting for someone?”

  To my surprise, Gianna scooted from her barstool to the one in between us. She flashed a brilliant smile at me and shook her head.

  “No,” she said sweetly. “I thought I’d come get a drink. I’ve had a long day.”

  My cock twitched at the honeyed tones of her voice, and for a moment, a lustful image of Gianna’s perfect lips around my manhood filled my head.

  “Oh yeah?” I smirked. “What did you do?”

  Gianna yawned. “I just moved here,” she explained. “I’m still staying in a hotel, but I was looking for an apartment or a condo or something.”

  I grinned. “Problems with finding a roommate?”

  Gianna looked offended. “I don’t need a roommate,” she purred. “I can take care of myself.”

  I bet you can, I thought, picturing Gianna naked on a bed with her fingers between her legs. Hot, powerful lust flowed through my body, and I shifted uncomfortably on the stool as my cock throbbed with desire. “I’m sure you can,” I said. “As it happens, I just moved here, too.”

  “Oh yeah?” Gianna grinned. She lifted a martini glass to her lips and sipped, not even wincing at the sharp taste of the gin. God, I thought. She even makes drinking look sexy!

  “Yeah,” I said. “Fr
om Boston. You?”

  Gianna’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “No kidding,” she said. “Me, too. Well, not Boston, exactly – just outside of the city. But still,” she added in a low voice. “Hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think you’ll like living here?”

  Gianna leaned closer and pressed her lips to mine. When I felt her warm mouth against my own, passion and lust flared through my body. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her close, slipping my tongue into her mouth. Gianna moaned softly. When she broke the kiss, she pressed her forehead against mine and licked her lips.

  “I like you, Barnes,” Gianna said in a sultry voice. “Would you like to come home with me?”

  Chapter 5

  Gianna

  I couldn’t believe how different I felt now that I’d escaped Boston. It wasn’t just the city, though – it was everything. For the first time in my life, I was no longer under the strict rule of my parents…and with every second I spent away from them, I saw just how very strict that rule had been. My first realization happened at the airport when I saw a group of obviously-teenaged girls walking and chatting on their own. Their parents are letting them fly alone, I thought, in surprise, as I watched them move forward in the security line. My parents barely let me out of the house!

  The little shocks didn’t end there. When I got to LA, I stood on the airport curb for over an hour because I couldn’t figure out how the taxi line. Obviously, I wasn’t expecting my driver, Curtis, to show up or anything like that…but it was still unsettling.

  I’d used the wi-fi aboard the plane to look for places to stay, but everything looked so intimidating that I had no idea how I was supposed to find anything good. In the end, I called a five-star hotel, the Crown Jewel, right in Beverly Hills. When the cab pulled up in front, I was impressed – it looked exactly like the kind of place that my mother and father would have picked on a vacation.

  “Welcome to the Crown Jewel, Beverly Hills’s finest hotel. How may I help you?”

  I smiled warmly. “I’m Gianna DiFaba – I called a little while about a suite.”

  “Oh, yes, Ms. DiFaba,” the concierge replied. “May I see your identification and your credit card?”

  I blinked.

  “There’s a deposit of four-hundred dollars that will be refunded to you upon check-out,” the concierge said. “And we need to run your card.”

  “Um, why do you need to see my ID?” I bit my lip. Something about that didn’t feel right, and suddenly I remembered all of the identity theft scams that my father had talked about.

  The concierge rolled her eyes. “For one thing, miss, I need to see that you’re over twenty-one.”

  I frowned. “I’m twenty-five,” I snapped. “And I doubt you need a piece of plastic to see that!”

  The concierge pointed to a small sign on the desk, and I flushed hotly.

  All cherished guests of Crown Jewel must show proper photo identification upon check-in.

  Biting my lip, I handed over my ID and my credit card. The concierge typed away at her keyboard and finally passed me a paper packet of two plastic keys.

  “Enjoy your stay,” she said, but she didn’t sound like she meant it.

  “I will,” I said. I made a face at her before turning around and walking over to the elevator banks. The hotel really was beautiful – the lobby was all brass and red velvet, with a big glass dome and lots of green plants. It reminded me of something from an old movie but in a good way. Besides, I thought as I rode upstairs and unlocked the door to my suite. If I’m going to be a famous actress, I need to get used to staying in places like this.

  The suite was beautiful and modern, completely unlike the lobby. I sighed as I set my bag down on the bed and rubbed my shoulder – after carrying around my laptop all day, I was sore. The bathroom was huge, with a giant soaking tub and a shower big enough for six people to fit inside. As eager as I was to leave the hotel and start exploring my new home, I felt grimy from being on a plane all day. I ran a long, hot bath for myself and stripped out of my clothes before sinking into the deliciously warm water. The whirlpool jets were almost enough to make me fall asleep, and after a long soak, I was feeling much better.

  The only question was this: what should I do on my first night in Los Angeles?

  I’d brought just one change of clothing with me – my favorite distressed jeans and a black silk blouse – and I got dressed as soon as I was dry from the bath. Taking my phone from the charging cradle, I called Diane.

  “Gianna!” Diane exclaimed. “It’s like, ten-thirty here!”

  “Sorry,” I said, although I didn’t really mean it. “How are you?”

  “Mom and Dad are going nuclear,” Diane replied. I could tell by the sound of her voice that it was even worse than she’d said. “They called the police and everything. Dad actually tried to file a missing person’s report, but the cops said that if you left voluntarily, there’s nothing they can do since you’re an adult.”

  For the first time since leaving, I felt a twinge of guilt. “Did you tell them?”

  Diane sighed. “Gianna, I had to,” she said. “If I hadn’t, the police would be out there looking for you right now…and I know that’s not what you want.” She chuckled. “Besides, what are Mom and Dad going to do? Ground me? I’m twenty-one years old, for god’s sake.”

  “Yeah,” I said, biting my lip. “I’m still sorry, though. I shouldn’t have put you in that spot.”

  “Well, too late now,” Diane said. She laughed again. “Besides, now they’re actually thinking about Barnaby at me!”

  “That should be funny,” I said. My guilt vanished, and suddenly I felt like laughing. “He’s going to be so pissed!”

  Diane and I burst out laughing.

  “How is it?” Diane asked when she’d stopped giggling. “God, I’m so jealous – I bet the weather is gorgeous.”

  “It is,” I admitted. “It’s sunny and hot, but really nice.” I yawned. “I’m really tired, though. No one ever tells you how hard traveling is.”

  “I bet,” Diane said. “I mean, you did cross hundreds of miles in just a few hours. What are you doing tonight?”

  I rolled onto my belly and frowned. “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m starving, though. I’ll probably go out and get something to eat.”

  “You should meet a guy,” Diane said. There was a trace of mischievousness in her voice. “You know, like a…welcome to LA kind of thing.”

  “Yeah, because I bet all the successful men are dying to sleep with a twenty-five-year-old virgin,” I said. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “You don’t have to tell him,” Diane said. “I mean, it’s like…just go out and get it done? Everyone says the first time sucks anyway.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said. “That seems kind of gross to me.”

  “People have one night stands all the time,” Diane said.

  “How do you know that?”

  Diane didn’t answer.

  “Diane!” I said loudly. “Are you telling me you’ve slept with someone before?”

  “Maybe,” Diane said nonchalantly. “I mean, what’s the big deal? I wanted to get it over with. And it hurt, a lot. And it didn’t feel great. But that’s what everyone says.”

  “You’re giving me such an incentive to go out,” I groused.

  “Oh, come on, Gianna,” Diane said. “Just go out and have fun. Besides,” she added. “I know it drives you crazy that there’s one thing I’ve done that you haven’t.”

  I wouldn’t have admitted it, but she was right.

  “I think I’m going to get something to eat,” I said.

  “Make sure a man is on the menu,” Diane said. She giggled.

  As annoyed as I was with her at the moment, I joined in. “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” I muttered before hanging up.

  By the time I left the Crown Jewel, the sky was streaked with pink and orange. The
evening air was intoxicating, and I noticed that as I walked down the street, everyone was staring at me. I was used to that – it had happened plenty of times in Boston, even when my parents had been around. But this was different – the stares weren’t just polite acknowledgements of my looks, but full-fledged come-ons. I began feeling sexy, and when I almost rolled my ankle on the concrete, I realized that I’d been swaying my hips from side to side. When I got to Wilshire, my feet were aching from the pinched stilettos I wore. Stopping on the corner of the street, I looked up and saw a steakhouse on the corner. It looked nice – not too flashy, all dark wood and brass – and my stomach growled. Biting my lip, I pushed the doors open and strode inside, making my way to the bar.