A Little Like Destiny

by Lisa Suzanne

  So handsome.

  I think about giving in. I think about saying yes.

  But I’m on my way out from another man’s bed after a one-night stand. Having a morning coffee date with a stranger just seems like a bad idea on top of an already shit morning.

  three

  “Tell me every single detail and leave nothing out.”

  I blow out a heavy sigh as I look across the family room at Jill. She tucks a chunk of her red hair behind her ear, her eyes wide on me. She’s looking at me differently than she did yesterday, like I’m her idol. I did something last night we’ve both dreamed of doing for the better part of ten years.

  It’s too early for this conversation. I’m still wearing the Vail shirt from last night—the same shirt Mark Ashton stripped from my body before he fucked me. I think of his long, talented fingers as they gripped the bottom of this very shirt before he pulled it over my head.

  “It was…perfect,” I finally answer.

  “That’s not every detail. I’m talking length, girth, hardness…”

  “Oh my God, Jill. You sound like Tess.” Tess, my work wife, has the uncensored mouth and perverted sense of humor of a thirteen-year-old boy.

  “So? It’s not every day my best friend sleeps with an actual rock star.”

  “I need a cup of coffee before I get into this,” I mutter. “Or a shot of tequila.”

  “Coffee’s hot on the pot.” She nods toward the kitchen. “And you know where we keep the tequila. Now spill the details.”

  “I haven’t showered and I still smell like him.”

  “Oh my God, you should definitely never shower again. Ever. What does he smell like when he’s naked? Can I smell you? Was he big? Was the sex good?” She stands up and starts walking toward me, but I push her off.

  “He tasted like peppermint.” I think for a minute. “And he smelled like some kind of sweet, woodsy scent mixed with the peppermint. And he was big. And he knew how to use it. Like he’s an expert. PhD in sex.” I close my eyes in bliss as I remember.

  When I open them, she’s about to bend over to sniff my shirt. I push her away.

  “Sandalwood. That’s sandalwood. Holy shit, I just smelled Mark Ashton on you.” She squeals. “Best night ever?”

  I nod, focusing my eyes out the window on our view of the mountains surrounding Las Vegas.

  “Then why do you seem so totally unsatisfied today?”

  I swipe at a stray tear I didn’t even realize had formed. I thought I’d gotten it all out in the elevator. “Not unsatisfied. It’s just…that’s it. One night. Wham bam thank you ma’am.”

  “One night to remember forever.”

  She stares at me with stars in her eyes, like I’m the luckiest girl in the world—which I am.

  But I’m still somewhere between regret and jubilation. “Yeah, but now what? No one’s ever going to measure up to that.”

  “Still, one night…”

  “One night that brought every fantasy I’ve had for ten years to life.” And emotionally connected me to a man I don’t even know. I don’t add that last part. It seems too ridiculous to say it out loud.

  “Did you get his number?”

  “No. And I didn’t leave mine.”

  “Why not?”

  “Seriously? Was I just supposed to say, Hey, thanks for the amazing sex, give me your number? Where was I supposed to leave mine?”

  “I’d have written that shit in lipstick on his bathroom mirror,” she mutters.

  “No, you wouldn’t have.”

  “Hell yes, I would’ve!”

  I know my friend. She wouldn’t have. She’s a lot like me—a boring, wholesome rule follower.

  “Well, I didn’t. I knew his expectations from the start.”

  “But you want more?”

  “Of course I want more. He’s every woman’s fantasy. Gorgeous? Check. Rich? Check. Funny? Check. Can sing me lullabies every night? Check.”

  “Don’t forget that he has a big dick.”

  I nod. “Check. And now I’m just supposed to count myself lucky that he picked me for his Saturday night and move on with my life.”

  How the hell am I supposed to do that? I have no idea. It’s wanting something so bad for so long and when it happens and it’s everything you thought it would be—more, even…but then it’s over. How do you just pick up and act like everything’s normal when it just isn’t?

  “You’re so calm about it. If I slept with Mark Ashton, I’d be shouting it from the rooftops.”

  “That’s where we’re different, I guess. Let’s just keep it between us, okay?” I stand and stretch. “I need a shower and a nap.”

  “And wash off Mark Ashton’s scent? You’re crazy.” She stands and ambles over to me. “Can I please just sniff you one more time before you wash him off?”

  I roll my eyes and push her away before I head to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, but I don’t think I’ll ever wash this shirt. I don’t want his scent to ever fade from it.

  Once I’m in my bedroom, I’m alone with my thoughts—usually a fairly safe place, but a downright rickety old mine shaft about to collapse today. I could focus on getting some work done, but it’ll be there tomorrow. I could take a shower like I told Jill I’d do, but she’s right. I’m not ready to wash him off me, not yet.

  So instead, I pull my Vail shirt over my head just like he did to me last night, curl into a ball on my bed, snuggle the shirt that still smells like him, and replay our night.

  I suppose living in Vegas gives a school teacher like me a better chance of meeting celebrities that others might not get. My chances are multiplied considering my best friend works for a local newspaper and has access to press passes for any event.

  Last night, we found ourselves front and center after waiting outside the venue for four hours so we could be among the first fans inside. We watched the two opening bands as anticipation built, and finally the lights went dark just before the headliner appeared.

  I remember glancing over to Jill as Vail took the stage, excitement lighting her face. We’ve seen Vail at least ten times together, more than once pressed against a fence holding us back from the stage, and it’s new and thrilling every single time.

  But something was different about last night. The air crackled with energy, the crowd was louder, and I could feel it in my chest. Something magical was about to happen.

  It was the best concert I’ve ever seen. I felt that long before the lead singer invited me to his bed.

  It was the entire atmosphere. Mark worked the crowd with ease, just like he always does, but he had an energy about him that seemed different from his other shows. I sang along to every song, and I could’ve sworn he made eye contact with me while he belted out the words I knew so well. At the time, I was sure every girl in the arena felt that way, but later he confirmed that he had, in fact, been watching me.

  Is that a line he feeds every woman?

  Hearts aren’t supposed to get tangled up in one-night stands. They’re supposed to stay out of it, safely on the sidelines for one night of pure, unadulterated, physical pleasure.

  That’s not the way I did my one-night stand, though.

  My heart dove in head first, and now my emotions are paying the hefty price.

  One day—that’s all. I’ll allow myself one day of wallowing, one day of self-pity, one day to get over this heartbreak, and then I’ll find a way to move forward.

  four

  “Contact the business listed next to your name within the next week. Sorry it’s so late this year,” my department chair, Kathryn, says during our final department meeting of the school year. She passes out a paper to each member of the English department at Desert Lights High School. It’s the Monday after the weekend where I had sex with a rock star, and everything in my life is suddenly shaded by that one event, just as I knew it would be.

  My vow that I’d only allow myself to wallow for one day was shot out the window when I woke up this morning still un
der a haze of grief. It’s hard to lose something you never really had, yet my emotions are tied up like I lost the love of my life.

  I listen to Vail on repeat, luxuriating in the sound of his voice as I let it wash over me, as I touch myself while I think of him, as I imagine it’s his fingers touching me again, his hands on my body.

  Thank God it’s almost summer, because I can’t focus. Today was our first day of final exams. Tomorrow is our last day. Grades are due Wednesday, and then it’s summer break for two and a half months.

  “How was Vail?” Tess asks.

  “Awesome,” I say, giving her two cheesy thumbs up as I look at the desk in front of me so she doesn’t notice the sudden water in my eyes.

  “And how hot was Mark Ashton?”

  I swoon a little. Hotter than you can even imagine.

  A small part of me wants to tell her what happened with Mark, but another part of me likes having a secret. As much as I love Tess, I want to keep this to myself. She isn’t the most reserved person in the world, and I have a feeling if I tell her what I did, everyone in a ten-mile radius will know.

  “The hottest ever,” I say.

  “God, I love him. What I wouldn’t give for one night with him.”

  My heart skips a beat. This is my chance to confess, but I don’t say anything.

  She sighs dreamily. “I wish I could’ve gone to the show with you guys.”

  “How was the family dinner?” I ask.

  She rolls her eyes. “About as lame as you’d expect.”

  Her aunt and uncle were in town visiting, and she got stuck going to dinner instead of joining Jill and me at the concert. I can’t help but wonder if Mark would’ve chosen her over me if she’d been with us.

  It doesn’t matter. Thinking about it doesn’t change what happened, doesn’t change the fact that she’s with him as much as I am right now.

  I make a face at Tess as Kathryn passes the papers to my row. Our destinies are listed in black and white. Each teacher in the department gets one local company who we’re assigned to basically beg for money to help fund our big charity event in the fall.

  “What did you get?” I ask Tess as soon as we both have a paper in front of us.

  She scans the paper. “Yes!” She pumps her fist in the air in victory. “Dairy Queen.”

  “Lucky.” They’re a guaranteed donation, plus she gets ice cream.

  “What did you get?” she asks.

  My brows draw in. “FDB Tech Corp.” I say it with a hint of a question at the end because I’ve never heard of them.

  Tess screws her face up. “Never heard of them.”

  “Me either.” The sooner I make my appointment, the sooner I get this hideous task off my plate. Seriously, I didn’t know when I went to school to become a high school English teacher that there’d be so many other tasks that came with the territory.

  When I arrive home, Jill’s already there, sitting on the couch with her laptop as she researches something for an article.

  “How’s the future Mrs. Ashton?” she asks, setting her laptop beside her and stretching out her legs.

  “Stop,” I scold, drawing out the ahhh sound in the word. “I already told you, it was a one and done. Talking about it just depresses me.” I change the subject quickly. “I have to call this new company to schedule an appointment so I can beg for donations.”

  “What company?”

  “FDB Tech Corp.”

  She nods and picks her laptop back up. “I’ve heard of them. Apparently, these three super hot guys left their old company in Chicago to start their own. Molly did an article on them a month or so ago, but I think they just cut the ribbon last week.” She taps some keys then scrolls her laptop. “Yep. Last Thursday was their official opening.”

  “What do they do?” I sit on the couch next to her.

  “Julie’s article says they sell solutions.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  She scans the article a little more. “It says they’re involved in predictive analytics and they’re looking to hire consultants.”

  “I understand about half the words you just said.”

  She shrugs. “Ask while you’re there.”

  I stand to leave the room when I hear her voice. It’s quiet and gentle.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with the whole Mark Ashton thing?”

  I shrug. “It is what it is. Or, rather, it was what it was. One amazing night, and I’m sure I’ll get over it at some point.”

  I can still feel his cashmere blanket wrapped around my arms when I think hard enough, can still feel his tongue brushing against mine. The image of his fingertips running along my thigh flashes through my mind. It’s only been two days. Surely this anguish will fade in time. “Thanks for asking.”

  *

  I feel underdressed in jeans and my DLHS shirt as I arrive at the FDB Tech Corp headquarters the next afternoon after a half day of final exams. Their business spans the entire twelfth floor of a building two blocks off the Strip.

  The black metal and glass structure in front of me is intimidating. The big Ferris wheel behind one of the hotels is just a couple of blocks over, huge in my view at the moment. I think of all the tourists who come through this town to party, gamble, or tuck singles into strippers’ G-strings, but to me, it’s home.

  A petite and pretty blonde sits behind the desk in a professional black business outfit in front of me when the elevator doors open. The office has that new-office smell—recently dried paint on the light gray walls and new plush, black and gray weave carpeting, but there’s something else in the air. Something coconutty, almost like sunscreen but nicer.

  The blonde looks up and smiles warmly. “Hi there. Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I have a one-thirty appointment with Mr. Fox.”

  She glances at her screen. “Reese Brady?”

  “That’s me.”

  She smiles. “Great. Have a seat and someone will be up shortly to escort you back. Can I get you some water?”

  “That would be great,” I say, and she hands me a bottle before I sit. It’s swanky in here with the gray and black theme. A few people walk down a hallway to my right, and even they match the décor in their black business attire. I feel even more underdressed than I did back in the parking lot.

  A gorgeous, intimidating woman with wavy brown hair steps around the corner. She’s wearing a tight, black dress, and even though she comes across as incredibly professional, she looks ready for a night out in Vegas, like she can just leave straight from work to head to the next party. Her shrewd, brown eyes land on me, and she doesn’t mask her disdain as she takes in my blue jeans and t-shirt. “Reese Brady?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

  I stand and smile awkwardly as I wonder if this woman has ever felt awkward in her entire life. “That’s me.”

  “Follow me.”

  She leads me to one of the corner offices, her heels somehow clicking on the plushy carpet as I follow behind in my much more comfortable Converse. An empty desk that I assume is hers sits just in front of the office. The plaque outside the door reads Brian Fox.

  I stand behind her as she steps into the doorway of his office. “Mr. Fox, Reese Brady is here to see you.”

  “Thanks, Kelsey.” His voice is deep, and before I even see the man himself, I can tell just from that deep timbre that he’s going to be gorgeous. “Send her in.”

  She steps aside, and my eyes fall onto the man sitting behind the black desk.

  I was right. He’s gorgeous.

  But it’s not just that.

  I recognize him.

  It’s the man who helped me pick up everything that fell out of my purse the morning I escaped Mark Ashton’s place. I stop dead in my tracks and have the sudden urge to run back out the door. How the hell am I supposed to beg this man for money?

  His dark hair is almost black and his eyes are such a piercing green that he’s almost looking through me. His gaze pins me to my spot in the doorway.
He’s sitting behind his desk, a meticulously organized mass of paperwork, folders, and office supplies. He wears a navy suit, and my eyes travel up the crisp, clean lines of his jacket and catch on the glinting silver tie tack holding his matching navy tie in place.

  Navy, I muse. Interesting considering everything else I’ve seen in this office is black, white, or gray. It’s like he purposely chose to stand out, but he’s got this imposing presence about him that would allow him to stand out either way. He owns the room and everything in it just because he’s there.

  From the way his eyes land on me, it’s clear he remembers me, too, and my mouth dries. I’m beyond grateful for the water the receptionist gave me. I unscrew the cap and tip it to my mouth to moisten my lips just as the woman who led me back here turns around and bumps into me.

  Water splashes out of the bottle and onto my purple DLHS shirt.

  The woman glares at me and smirks as she watches a small water stain start to spread over my chest. She’s definitely laughing at me without actually laughing at me—enough so I know, but not enough so her boss knows. She leaves the office before he can see her wide grin at my expense.

  I draw in a shaky breath as heat creeps into my cheeks. I haven’t been this affected by a man since…well, since I met a rock star. Except for that one event that almost seems like a dream, I don’t think I’ve ever been affected like this.

  I shake my head to clear it as I wipe at the water spot on my chest. It probably looks like I’m feeling myself up, but I’m just trying to get my shirt to dry faster. It’s not working.

  “Come on in,” he says, his lips tipping up in that same cocky smile I remember from outside the elevator as his eyes connect with mine. He stands and extends an arm. “Brian Fox,” he says, and I reach out to shake his hand. His eyes dart down to the little water spot right over my boob.

  “Reese Brady,” I say, smiling nervously. My voice squeaks as our hands connect, so I clear my throat and drop his hand before I sit in one of the chairs facing his desk.

  “You know, Reese, I have to admit, I’ve thought about you several times since you literally ran into me. Sometimes I think of you as the elevator girl, or sometimes as the Mandarin girl. But, sadly for me, it’s always the girl who got away.”