Three, two, one—I pour the liquid down my throat and nearly throw up. It’s god-awful, but I keep the whole thing down. Time for change includes not being a little bitch when it comes to liquor.
“What’s this change thing all about?”
“You ever feel like your life needs something new and exciting?” I ask without waiting for her answer. My most fun-loving cousin probably has no clue what I’m talking about. “That’s what I need. And I’m taking matters into my own hands to get it.”
The music picks up volume as Tara leans in to shout in my ear. “I’m all for that! Let’s go dance!” She drags me by my arm onto the dance floor. It gets crowded with warm bodies shaking it to the DJ pumping beats loud and proud.
I’m completely out of my element here, but I promised myself I’d let loose and have fun.
A waitress in a tiny uniform comes up to Tara and me, handing out shots in what look like science lab test tubes. My instinct is to turn down her offer, but Tara shoves one at me. “To change!”
She knows how to call me on my bluff. I down the second shot to prove I mean it. “To change!”
I make a mental note to grab a glass of water after a few more songs. Several of Tara’s coworkers walk up and introduce themselves. It’s a bit too loud to clearly hear all of their names, but I do my best to greet them. I’m excited to meet new people. Tara works in the Human Resources department for a bank. Apparently, just like teachers, they too need to let their hair down once in awhile.
We dance in a big group until I can’t take it much more and I head to the bar for that water. What was meant to be a glass of water turns into a vodka and Red Bull—I’m now seeing colors extra bright and hearing music extra loud.
Back on the dance floor, we grind our bodies to the music as sweat flicks off. A pair of hands land on my hips as I turn around to see a tall man with eyes that light up the dark room. He smiles, and we keep dancing for one more song.
When the song changes he shouts, “Want to go to the VIP booth with me?”
Things certainly are changing—I’ve just become a Very Important Person. I follow the stranger to the VIP booth on the side of the club. Already at the booth are a few men with extremely leggy, dark haired, exotic-looking women in short, tight dresses by their sides. I smile and wave at them all while taking a seat. They wave back, but no smiles cross their lips.
“I’m Jared,” the man says. It’s easier to read his lips as we sit side-by-side.
“Juliette,” I shout into his ear, moving a bit closer in the black leather booth.
“Do you come to the club often?” Jared asks. He places his hand on my knee as he leans in. I take in his sky blue eyes—I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes this blue. They’re hypnotizing.
“This is my first time,” I say as another Vodka and Red Bull is handed to me. I make a note to just hold onto it, not to actually drink it. “But I’m having a great time!”
“I’m glad to hear.” Jared squeezes my knee and then trails his hand just a little higher up my thigh while the other holds a glass of gin. “I’m the owner.”
Another high-powered man in my life; this could end badly.
Staring at his muscular hand on my thigh, I question why I wore a dress that hitches up this high when I’m sitting down. I swore it wasn’t this slutty when I was standing. I don’t know what to do. Swat it away? Let him feel me up in this booth? Why do I keep getting myself into these situations?
I don’t have much time to debate my next move when I notice a looming figure at the end of our booth—Clark.
“Juliette, get up,” Clark demands. His hands are clenched in fists at his side.
Jared’s hand tightens on the top of my leg. I’m trapped. I need to bolt out of here. Or stay here with my new friend and ignore Clark.
I lean in more toward Jared but keep my stare in the direction of a very pissed off looking Clark. “Do I know you?”
“You know what it feels like to have my cock in your mouth.”
My face heats up instantly in embarrassment. Of course, he’d say something to put me on blast in front of everyone.
“The lady would like for you to fuck off,” Jared says, glaring at Clark like he’s a bug on the bottom of his shoe—what appear to be studded Christian Louboutin sneakers.
“Those words never crossed her lips,” Clark growls.
If looks could kill Clark would have Jared buried six feet under. Dead and gone.
“Why don’t we ask her what she’d like to say?” Jared asks, turning toward me.
With both men staring at me, I feel like a deer in headlights. I wish I could slowly disappear. Maybe I can slide under the table and back onto the dance floor without anyone noticing?
“Juliette,” Clark says.
“What do you guys want me to say?” I throw my hands up in the air in frustration.
“Who do you want to go home with?” Jared asks with his hand still on my thigh.
Wait, what?
“Are you kidding me? We are at a club dancing. I didn’t say I was spending my night with anyone. You two are cocky assholes who can not command me to do anything. Now let me up!” I shove Jared, but he doesn’t budge. I climb over his lap and push past Clark as I rush toward the ladies room.
There’s an insanely long line for the four stalls inside. Toxic is a huge nightclub and they only want four chicks to pee at the same time? If I weren’t ignoring Jared, I would let him know my two cents about his cheap club.
“Girl. Did you see who Danielle is dancing with? Straight up womanizer,” a drunken blonde woman leaning up against the wall ahead of me slurs to a redhead next to her.
“Wasn’t he the douchebag who was sleeping with three women? I heard they all tagged him in Instagram pictures and blew his cover,” the ginger slurs her words.
“Oh yeah, that’s the one. Maybe we should tell her to have him tested for STDs before having sex with his cheating ass!”
They both laugh and practically fall over each other as they walk closer to the front of the bathroom line.
Sleeping with three women at once. Finding out he was a player on social media. For the love of God, what happened to all the nice guys?
“Juliette.”
My name is not shouted, yet he commands my attention. Clark is yet again in the ladies room with me. Does he even know there’s a separate bathroom for dudes?
“I don’t know who Juliette is, but baby, I’ll pretend I’m her,” a woman purrs while running her hand down the front of Clark’s shirt.
Oh no you don’t. I jump out of my spot in line and storm toward Clark.
“Let’s go.” I grab his arm and drag him out of the bathroom. The smirk across his face doesn’t escape me. When we are out of the bathroom, I spin around, shove him up against the wall, and jab my finger into his chest. His eyes bug out as if my quick movement caught him off guard. “This does not mean you won your pissing match over me.”
“I don’t need to win a match for you.”
“And why don’t you?” I stare in disbelief. He doesn’t think he needs to win me over. Why not? That’s what men do for their women. “Oh.” It’s then that the disbelief feeling vanishes, replaced by utter sadness and realization.
I let go of his arm, turn toward the doors of the club, and march in that direction. I need to get out of here before I explode in either rage or tears.
“Juliette, wait!” Clark shouts behind me. I don’t turn around yet his larger than life presence lurks in my space. “Where are you going?”
A hand brushes my arm from behind, but I quickly skirt around and squeeze between a large group of people. When I make it to the door, I bolt outside past the bouncer and the long line of people waiting to get inside Toxic. I hide myself in the crowd as best as I can, as I pull out my phone and hit the button to request a Driver.
Ian is eleven minutes away.
I don’t have that long to spare, but he’s the closest driver so I have no other option but to wait.
“Juliette, I see you standing behind this man.” Clark is now on the other side of the giant bodybuilder I was using to block my cover. Clearly, it didn’t work.
“This guy giving you trouble?” the bodybuilder asks. He takes a drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke into the chilly night air.
“He is.”
As soon as I say the words, the bodybuilder drops his cigarette and grabs the front of Clark’s shirt.
“Wait, wait, wait!” I shout, tapping the man with his grasp on Clark. “I was kidding!”
No one is listening to me.
I don’t even know if Andre the Giant can feel my hand on his beastly bicep, but that doesn’t even matter. Clark shoves him back as I sidestep out of the way. When he’s pushed up against the brick wall, Clark gets right in his face. “If you ever lay a hand on me again, I’ll make you regret it.”
When the men are glaring at one another, I slip away.
“Juliette, stop walking away from me.”
Clark is now standing directly at my side.
“What do you want? Stop trying to boss me around.” I face him in a flurry of panic. I just want my driver to show up to get this night over with, now. “Why are you even here? Did you follow me to this club?”
He looks taken back by my accusing questions. “You think I’m some kind of stalker? Get real, sweetheart. I was out with my friends for Bruce’s bachelor party when I spotted you throwing yourself at that son of a bitch.”
I stomp my foot. “I was not throwing myself at anyone.”
“Why are you running away? Why are you even in this club?” he asks.
“Why do you have so many questions?” I sass back. He runs his hands through his hair looking annoyed. “I’m in this club because I want a fresh start and I need change. Why am I running away from you? Because there’s no reason to even talk to you. You’re extremely disrespectful.”
I find myself now rambling. “And you don’t even feel the slightest need to win me over. You know why?” He stares with a blank face, knowing I’ll answer my own questions. “Because why the hell would you need to win a match for someone who is an easy, guaranteed fuck? That’s not a woman you fight for. That’s a woman you toss to the side when you’re done, but I’m done. Now.” I throw my hands up in the air.
“Excuse me. Are you Juliette?” Ian rolls down the window in his black GMC Terrain as he idles at the curb. Other cars are now honking their horns behind me. New Yorkers wait for no one; get in or get lost.
I don’t wait for Clark to say a word as he reaches for me, but yet again I dodge his hand and slip into the car.
“Drive, fast, please.”
It’s not until the SUV is pulling away from the curb with Toxic in the rearview mirror that I realize tears are dripping down my face.
Clark
Distance is what I told myself I needed, but as she drives away from this shitty club, I am pissed the fuck off. That rant about not fighting for her—what the fuck was all that about? Wasn’t I just fighting for her to get her away from that guy? How did things escalate so quickly? Why is this a pattern with her?
She agrees to fuck buddies but then loses her mind.
We ditch the arrangement terms, but then again, she loses her mind.
Normally, psychos are not the kind I keep going after, but I have this urge to jump into my car and follow her. However, that would make me look like a lunatic and that’s not a look I want.
And what was all that about being disrespectful? That’s not my intent with her. Other people, sure, but not her. Not anymore, at least.
“Looks like you are going home empty-handed,” the idiot from inside the bar who had his hands all over Juliette says. He has a blonde barely wearing any clothes draped around his arm. She stumbles a few steps but smiles a crooked grin.
I want to punch this fucker right in his smug face.
“Looks like you are taking home a high schooler,” I say, nodding in his direction.
Douchebag doesn’t say a word, but just draws his girl in closer as a town car with tinted windows pulls up to the curb.
Blondie giggles as she stumbles to the door. “Wrong! I’m a college freshman!” she squeals before ducking inside the car.
For fuck’s sake. And that was a guy Juliette could have gone home with if I hadn’t shown up to cock block.
What was she doing at the club in the first place? And what did she mean when she was rambling about making changes?
16
Juliette
Sitting at high tea with Marjorie brings a mix of emotions. I miss Dr. Prince and she reminds me of him, yet she has such a calming manner, I can’t help but want to sit here for hours talking to her.
“And here is an assortment of sandwiches,” the waitress says as she places another course of food in front of us. These sandwiches are tiny but they look mouthwatering.
“Thank you,” we say in unison as she takes off.
Marjorie and I are in a delightful Victorian tea parlor inside an old mansion turned museum. This is totally an event for old ladies, but I’m not going to lie and say I don’t enjoy the vibe here. I’m frequently told I have an old soul—this is my kind of crew.
“Tell me how everything is at Riverside,” Marjorie says, before loading up sandwiches on her plate.
“Riverside is as exciting as ever,” I say with a smile and wink. “Nothing to complain about. We are preparing for final exams, and they are truly a great group of kids. They blow me away with how smart they are—even though some of them are smartasses to go along with their brains.”
She laughs. “Oh dear, I’m glad to hear things are going well.”
“Thank you. How is everything going with you?”
I take the time to bite into a cucumber sandwich while Marjorie talks about her new garden, her new goldfish, and the foundation she is opening in Norman’s name to raise awareness for heart health. She sounds sad yet she smiles. It’s obvious her love for Norman runs deep in her soul.
That’s the kind of love I want. A love that’s truly built on a lifelong friendship.
“If there’s anything I can do to help with the foundation, please let me know. You know how much your family means to me.”
“I do need a favor, my dear,” Marjorie says sweetly, looking up from her pink teacup.
“Anything,” I say, leaning in closer to the table, eager to hear what she’s going to ask. I don’t think in the history of knowing the Princes they’ve ever asked anything of me.
“Can you say a few words about Norman at the benefit memorial next weekend?”
Public speaking should be no problem for me. Every day I speak in front of my students, yet the thought of a room full of adults freaks me out. My panicking brain wants to say no, but looking at Marjorie’s sweet face I can’t turn her down.
“Yes, okay. Just a few words though, right?” I am suddenly sweating and I might throw up. Breathe in and breathe out.
“Oh thank you, sweet girl.” Marjorie claps her hands in excitement. “And you know, your mother was telling me about how you aren’t having any luck with men. I was thinking … I have this nephew. He’s smart, successful, and very handsome. I could arrange a meeting between you.”
Wow. That sounds just like what I’m looking for.
And then it hits me. Her nephew is … Clark.
She has no clue what kind of man Clark is.
Well, I guess her assessment is correct. He is smart, successful, and very handsome. Yet she left out that he’s bossy and left me heartbroken.
“I’m not in the market to be set up at the moment,” I lie.
“Well, I know you don’t need a man, but I hope you find a really nice one,” Marjorie says.
“Thank you.” I fake a smile.
Marjorie’s words mean well, but they hit a nerve. Am I really giving off an “I don’t need a man” vibe? I thought I toned that down a little.
I do want a man. But not just any man.
One
who wants to be there for more than just a romp in my bed.
Instead, someone who wants to attend family functions.
And show me off to everyone he knows.
Listen to me talk about my day and share his with me.
Someone to be there for all of the big moments and all the little ones.
The rest of our tea goes by smoothly, luckily without any more mentions of men or my dreadful gossipy mother.
Accepting a last minute date is not normally how I’d spend a Saturday night, but I’m rolling with this whole ‘embracing change’ thing.
After my tea with Marjorie, I scrolled through the eLove app while getting a pedicure and by the time my nails were dry, I had a date set up with Lewis. Our conversations weren’t bad for being quick, and I’m looking forward to our dinner.
Heading home from the salon, I get ready with Milo sleeping by my side. When 7 p.m. rolls around, I hit the Driver app and request a ride.
Carl picks me up in a silver Audi Q5 and whisks me away to an Ethiopian restaurant in the Bronx. I’m nervous because I’ve never had Ethiopian food, but I’m willing to try.
Here’s to taking chances!
I’m the first to arrive. The hostess sits me at a booth near the back of the restaurant. I scan the menu a few times before I spot Lewis. He has thick brown hair and emerald eyes with a small scar near his eyebrow, and his ears have small gauges in them. Normally I’d swipe no to a man with more jewelry than me, but he’s hot. And he’s different than my usual type.
Lewis hugs me and plants a gentle kiss on my cheek. “It’s nice to meet you, Juliette.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I say as he slides into the forest green leather booth across from me.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’m going to keep my phone out,” he says placing his phone face up on the table, which I’d normally see as a huge red flag. “My sister went into labor about six hours ago. I’m waiting on a phone call that the baby was born so I can rush to the hospital.” He smiles from ear-to-ear with genuine excitement. It’s adorable to see someone so happy.
Fortunate Encounters (The Sign Series Book 1) Page 11
