Sour

by Jennifer Woodhull

  I head down the hallway and pass a Chinese buffet and a romantic Italian restaurant filled with couples and families.

  That’s a hard pass.

  I briefly consider stopping in an enticing bakery to binge on cupcakes, but decide alcohol is the better way to go. I keep walking and come to a bar called Al Volto. It’s not as busy as the other places so I enter and make my way to the bar in the back.

  The bartender flashes me a tip-inducing wink as he sets down my chocolate martini. I make quick work of it, and the next one. When he makes his way down to the other end of the bar, I hear the patron he’s serving let out a big, robust laugh and his voice seems vaguely familiar. I turn and am instantly glad to see a friendly face.

  “Ian?”

  “Elle! How ya goin, darlin?” Ian stands, picks up his drink and plants himself on the barstool beside me.

  I give him a wry smile. “This week has been…weird.”

  He lets out a full laugh.

  I wave to get the bartender’s attention. “Excuse me, do you have a dessert menu? And more of this?” I hold my empty glass aloft.

  Ian waves him off and puts down a couple of twenties. “Come on, I’ll take you someplace we can get something sweet in you.”

  A few minutes later, I’m climbing into a limousine—a real one. It has a seat that’s bigger than my sofa, and a minibar, and a television. It’s nuts. I knew Ian had money, but this ride indicates a crazy level of rich.

  “You just ride around in one of these, like, all the time?”

  “Course not. Back home I drive myself most of the time. I’ve got a Bentley and a Range Rover. When I’m over here, though, don’t want to deal with all that. I hire a driver.” Ian shrugs like it’s no big deal and tips back the slug of whiskey he poured when we got in. “Nice night out. How about a view?” He hits a button and the panoramic moon roof opens, revealing the lights of the strip overhead.

  “Whoa! That’s awesome!” I instinctively hop up and try to put my head through the window, but only the top half of my head is sticking out the roof, which is disappointing on a colossal scale. I step out of my shoes and step up onto the seat, eliciting a chuckle from Ian. The move gives me the added height I need to stick my head and shoulders out through the roof. It is every bit as cheesy and magical and satisfying as I expected. Noah would love this.

  Noah.

  I’ve made it all of fourteen minutes without thinking about him. Granted, that’s probably a record. A shimmer catches my eye and I look down, realizing the ring is still on my finger.

  Noah’s ring. Noah’s engagement ring.

  I sigh, and sit back down, dropping my hands to my lap.

  “Alright, then, Elle?”

  “Yeah, it’s just…have you ever felt like you were, I don’t know, flailing a little?”

  “Ha, have I ever! Before I started Banshee, I was a bit of a nomad, myself. I led hunting expeditions and was a river guide in Tasmania. I took tourists on backpacking treks through the outback and taught at a surf camp down in New South Wales. In between I washed dishes and parked cars, I tended bar, even did a little modeling.” He wriggles his brows, his hazel eyes sparkling, and I can’t help but smile.

  “So, it took you a while to hit your stride; to figure out what you wanted from life?”

  “Sure did. After I bounced around for a while, I started thinking about how there wasn’t a place where regular people could get the gear they needed along with the expertise to find just the right parts, not some high end stuff from a pro shop meant to just take all their money. I found a couple of backers to invest, and six months later, Banshee was born. We had a shitty little store in the worst neighborhood in Sydney, but people came, and the business grew. That was fifteen years ago now and look what’s come of that gamble. Sometimes, to do big things, you gotta put yourself out there.” He makes a chopping gesture with his hand as he exaggerates the last phrase until it’s almost a growl.

  He gives me a nod and an easy smile. I know Noah wasn’t really sold on Ian, but there’s something about him I like.

  A few minutes later, we’re driving under a pagoda-like structure, into Las Vegas’ Chinatown neighborhood. We pull into an unassuming little strip mall, and there, nestled between a smoke shop and a Chinese medicine clinic, is a small storefront with the words Paris Pastry above the door.

  When we walk inside, the space looks like any deli, but inside the massive glass case that goes from wall-to-wall are the most stunningly beautiful, mouth-watering pastries I’ve ever seen.

  “What looks good to ya, darlin?” He makes a sweeping motion with his hand.

  “That chocolate one looks good…ooh, and the strawberry.” I walk along the case, dragging my finger along the top of the glass like a five-year-old. “Ooh! The macarons are pretty, too!”

  Ian looks at the clerk and orders a half dozen different things. I object, lying that I couldn’t possibly eat that much, but he insists that I can try a little of this and that if we get a variety.

  When we sit down, I lift my fork, eyeing my options, and finally land on dipping it into a rectangular chocolate cake layered with a creamy mousse and topped with ganache. The cake is soft and spongy, the mousse creamy and light on my tongue, and the dark ganache has just the right amount of bitterness to bring all the flavors together. If my taste buds have a g-spot, this dessert is dancing all over it.

  “The look on your face tells me that one’s a winner.” Ian raises an eyebrow and dips his fork into the other end of the pastry. “Looks, brains, and great taste in desserts. You might be the total package, Elle.” He winks and I smile.

  Ian isn’t that perfect sort of handsome, like Noah, but he’s good-looking in a rugged, mature, almost weathered sort of way. He has that confident charm, too, that makes me think that he has no trouble attracting the attention of any woman who catches his interest.

  Ian takes a bite from a strawberry cake, and a little tart covered with kiwi and berries, then sets his fork down and leans forward, onto the table.

  “So, let’s talk about your current situation, shall we?”

  I swallow the mouthful of custard I’ve just taken, and my eyes go wide. “My situation?” He can’t possibly know about Noah and me.

  “Yeah, I talked to Sean Donovan this arvo. He warned me to stay away from you.” He sits back in his chair and smirks. “How do ya think that went over with me?”

  I laugh. “I’m guessing not too well. I have a feeling you don’t like being told what to do.”

  “See? Very intuitive as well. The more we talk, Elle, the more I like you. So, when he tells me to stay away, I immediately know that old Sean is trying to hold onto something good all for himself. How long have you worked for him?”

  I tell Ian about how I came to work for Summit, and the promotion that fell through.

  “Look, Sean and I go way back. In fact, we’ve just about settled on a deal for Banshee to be the first distributor for Summit Apparel in Straya with a two-year exclusive. I’ve got some expansion plans, too, but for all that to come together, I need a strong, innovative marketing leader on my team. What’s Sean paying you?” I tell him and he laughs. “He always was a cheap bastard.”

  The rest of the conversation is a bit of a blur. I may be in some sort of sugar-induced intoxicated state. I vaguely process him using the phrases executive director, all expenses paid, and I’ll double it.

  “You don’t have to give me an answer straight away. I’ll be heading home tomorrow afternoon. We can talk more tomorrow or whenever you’d like. Will you think about it, at least?” His eyes are narrowed, scanning my face for some gauge of my interest.

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” My phone buzzes in my purse and I look down to see a message from Noah.

  Noah: I know I dropped a lot on you and you probably need to process it. I respect that. Please just tell me you’re safe. I’m worried about you.

  I respond that I’m okay an
d tell Ian I need to head back.

  Back at the hotel, the elevator doors open at my floor and I say goodnight. Ian catches the heavy, brushed gold elevator door before it can close, poking his head out. “Think about my offer, Elle.”

  “I will. There’s just…a lot of things to consider.” My eyes dip as I think about Noah, who’s waiting for me in our room, and what I’m going to tell him.

  “There’s only one thing to consider, darlin. Maybe it’s time you stop thinking about everyone else and consider what it is you really want for yourself. If you’re happy, good on ya. If not, well, I’d be chuffed to have you on.” He gives me a nod before the doors close.

  I turn and start the arduous trek to our door. I’m not sure how long I’ve been gone. Seventeen hours, maybe, or a few days. Maybe forty-five minutes. I can’t really be sure.

  When I get to our suite, I tap the keycard against the lock, push down the gold handle, open the door and step inside. I look up, and through the open French doors, I see Noah’s silhouette on the balcony. I put down my bag, step out of my shoes, and walk over to the open doors.

  I sigh and step out onto the balcony.

  Chapter 24

  Noah

  I’m trying not to be offended that I confessed my love, proposed, and Elle just bolted.

  This is Elle, after all. I remember what Andy said. This is her M.O.—when things get tough, if she’s embarrassed, or things are changing, she has to pull away to get her head right. I knew I was taking a huge gamble. I knew it might be too much for her. I just hope she’s going to come back; tell me she has realized she loves me and being together is a fantastic idea. Then we can get married, get moved into our new house, and get on with the rest of our lives together.

  I hear something behind me, and when I turn around, Elle is walking out onto the balcony. Relief rolls through me.

  I close the distance between us and pull her close. “I’m so glad you’re back.” I press my cheek to the top of her head when I feel her slide her arms around my waist. “I was trying too hard to give you some space, but it took everything I had not to chase you down—not to try to find you.”

  “We should probably talk.” She shrugs as she pulls back and brings her hands together in front of her.

  When I tug on her hand to pull her to sit on the sofa beside me, she pulls her hand away.

  “I’m just going to sit over there on the other side of the sofa.” She nods toward the far end as she sits down. “Where it’s safe and less confusing.”

  “Okay. I get it.” I put my palms up, shake my head and turn, putting my arm on the back of the sofa to face her. “You know, I gotta tell ya, having the girl literally run away after you profess your love and propose could seriously hurt a guy’s feelings.”

  She shuts her eyes tight, rolls her head from side to side and presses her hands to face. “I know! I’m sorry. I just couldn’t think…or breathe, really.”

  “Let’s take it one thing at a time.” I scoot just a little closer, leaning forward so I can reach her hand with the tips of my fingers. “I love you, Elle. I’ve known for a little while; I just didn’t know how to tell you. I need to at least know if you feel the same way.”

  She’s staring at my fingertips as they hold her tiny hand in mine.

  “You’re asking if I love you,” she looks up at me and gives me the sweetest, softest smile. “So much. I know you love me in a way, but Noah, if we got together, you’d just get tired of me.” A tear breaches her thick, full lashes and trails down her cheek, cutting across my heart as it falls. “It would be great, for a while. We’d have fun, and get along great, and it would be, just, well, everything.”

  “This, that, and the other?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood and she smiles a little at the Seinfeld reference.

  “Yeah, exactly.” She lets out the smallest chuckle. “Eventually, though, you’d want someone else. Someone taller, sexier…someone like you.”

  Ouch. Does she really think I’m such an asshole that I’d ever just throw her away?

  “Elle, look, I know you’ve seen me date a lot of girls. You know how I grew up. We were always moving; I was always the new guy. I never got attached to anybody because I was never around long enough to get serious about anyone or anything.” I put my elbows on my knees and rake my hands through my hair, then let them hang as I turn to look at her. “You changed all of that. When I met you, way back when you were still in college, I couldn’t get you out of my head. You were still in school and I had just started my first real job…it just didn’t make sense to ask you out, but I liked you. I wanted to be around you. That’s why I reached out when the job at Summit came up. Then, the more time I spent with you…you became such a huge part of my life.”

  “You’re a huge part of my life too, and that’s the point. I don’t want to lose you, and if you get tired of me…,” she trails off.

  I stand and sit on the edge of the coffee table to face her. “Elle, I don’t just want you in my life. I want you by my side. I may not have always made the best decisions in my life, but this?” I pull her palm up to my chest, pressing it over my heart. “I’m surer about this than I’ve ever been about anything.”

  Her eyes are wide, her lips just a little pink as if she’s on the verge of crying. I want to kiss her so damned bad. I want to hold her and make love to her and remind her how good we are together. I want to go back to sitcom marathons and sharing our plates over dinner. I want to go back to tickle fights and lazy Sundays and all the other things that make me feel like she loves being with me as much as I love being with her. I want to hold her like I did that weekend I realized she’s the one I’ve loved all along, and show her just how beautiful, sexy, and incredible she is to me.

  “Noah, this is so big. I just…I don’t think I can do this.”

  Her words are a knife in my heart.

  “You need some time to get used to the idea. Maybe I shouldn’t have hit you with everything at once. If it were up to me,” I point toward the balcony. “I would walk right down to one of those twenty-four-hour wedding chapels and marry you right now and it would make me the happiest guy on the planet. If you need some time though, we can do a long engagement—as long as you need. We don’t even have to call it that right away.”

  I lean forward and cup her face in my hands. “We love each other, though, Elle. We should be together. Move into the house with me. I bought it for us—for you. It won’t feel like home without you there.”

  She presses her palms to my hands and rests her forehead against mine. “I can’t.” Her voice cracks. “I need some time.”

  “Of course, sweetheart.” She stands and so do I. “We don’t fly out until two tomorrow. Let’s go get brunch in the morning before we leave for the airport.”

  “Okay.” She nods and meets my eye. “I have to make a call in the morning.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just ran into Ian earlier, down in the lobby. I promised I’d give him a call before he leaves tomorrow.”

  “Legare? What does he want?” I feel all the blood rush to my temples, pounding there like a jackhammer, and I try to mask my disdain but that’s a tall order. I have a feeling that guy is interested in more than just trading tips on billboards and ad placement. The last thing I need is him in Elle’s ear, telling her that we’re a bad idea.

  “We got to talking, about his expansion plans, and,” she sucks her bottom lip in against her teeth. “He offered me a job.”

  “A job? They’re expanding to Charlotte?”

  “No,” her eyes drop, and her voice gets small. “Not in America.”

  “You mean, in Australia?” I pull my head back a little and cock my eyebrow. “You’re not going to take it, though, right? I mean, that would be nuts.”

  “Of course not. I mean, that would be crazy, right?” She looks a little sad and I hope I haven’t said the wrong thing. “I just promised I’d call him, so I want to
keep my word. We’ll probably be doing business with him, after all.” She shrugs.

  “That’s a good point.” I take her hand and walk her to her door. I take her left hand in mine and rock the diamond back and forth between my finger and thumb.

  “It’s beautiful, Noah. It’s so perfect. I should give it back, though.” She starts to pull her hand from mine, and I hold it fast.

  “No, don’t. It’s yours. It’s custom-made for you, just like me.” I wink and she chuckles. “Besides, I think you’ll change your mind. I’m going to show you, Bailey, that you’re not making a mistake.”

  “Tall people. So smug.”

  “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

  She silently nods and I step forward, sliding my arms around her. I grip her neck with my palm and tip her head back. I press my lips to hers softly, gently at first. When she melts against me, I slide my tongue against the seam of her lips and when they part, her tongue dances against mine. She makes that little sound she made when we were kissing before and it just about kills me. When we break the kiss, I’m grinning ear-to-ear.

  “You sure you don’t want to join me? Maybe fool around a little?” I arch up an eyebrow. “No pressure, just orgasms, I promise.”

  She laughs that full, all-over laugh I love, and it makes my heart happy to see it. “That’s a generous offer, Adler, but I think we better take things slower than that.”

  “Okay, if you insist.” I roll my eyes deposit one last kiss on her cheek. “Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep well. I have a feeling you’ll feel a lot better when you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  I hadn’t planned on climbing into bed by myself tonight. I was sure that Elle would tell me she loves me too. I thought she’d say yes, and I’d spend all night finding out all the things that give my new fiancée pleasure. Instead, I’m lying in bed alone.

  I should’ve known it would be too much for her to take in all at once. For all the amazing things I love about Elle, being an optimist is not exactly in her nature. I should’ve known she’d go to the worst-case scenario. It’s okay, though. She let me kiss her goodnight. In the morning, she’ll feel better. We’ll have some food, talk a little more, and she’ll come around. When we get back home, maybe I’ll ask her out on a regular date. Maybe if she sees that nothing will change, that we’re already a couple, she’ll agree to move in. I just need to take things one step at a time.