I WOULD NEVER DRINK GIN AND TONICS OR APPLE martinis again. They were fine and well when it was nighttime and I was high off the buzz, but in the bright light of morning, my recent exploits with Dominic brought a deep flush to my skin.
I couldn’t believe I’d let him kiss me. I couldn’t believe I’d kissed him back and followed him into a bar bathroom, of all places, where I’d orgasmed so hard my toes curled just thinking about it.
I groaned, banging my forehead lightly against the cabinet while I waited for the coffee to brew. Thank God Sloane was still in Europe, or she’d instantly know something was up. That woman had a bloodhound’s nose for sniffing out secrets.
What would tonight look like if things were different? A kiss. Just one.
Shh. Patience.
My skin heated at the memory of Dominic’s mouth and hands. Kissing, caressing, exploring. Bringing me expertly over the edge as only he could do. For all our problems over the years, physical attraction had never been one of them. Even at our lowest point, the sex had always been good.
“At least you didn’t go home with him,” I muttered.
I’d almost caved. Alcohol and sex had already done a number on my judgment, and his uncharacteristic vulnerability would’ve been the final straw.
Thank God for that call. Obviously, the universe had been looking out for me because I refused to be someone who ran back to her partner after a few pretty words and a nice—okay, a spectacular— orgasm.
Last night had been a fluke. It was never going to happen again, especially not after the divorce went through—and it would go through.
The coffee finished brewing. I poured myself a cup and ignored the singsong voice in my head that said I could blame the alcohol all I wanted, but there was a part of me that had wanted to go home with him.
It was the middle of the workweek. I had orders to complete, bills to pay, and a business to run. What I didn’t have was time to agonize over my bad decisions.
I ate a quick breakfast and poured myself a second cup of coffee before hunkering down at my desk.
No Dominic. No divorce. Just work.
Luckily, I had plenty of emails and meetings to keep me busy through the morning. I’d hired two assistants to manage logistics and customer service last year, and I’d just finished a video call with them when my cell rang.
“Hello?” I picked up without checking the caller ID first, too distracted by a new order requesting I create a pressed flowers collage shaped like the customer’s wife’s vagina. The sad part was, it wasn’t the strangest request I’d ever gotten.
“Hi, I’m looking for Alessandra Ferreira,” a deep male voice rumbled over the line.
All thoughts of floral vaginas flew out of my head.
I straightened, my heart picking up speed. I’d only used my maiden name once recently. “Speaking.”
“This is Aiden Clarke returning your message from yesterday. You were interested in learning more about the storefront in NoMad.”
“Yes.” The word squeaked out at an embarrassing pitch. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I mean yes, I am.”
Honestly, I’d forgotten about the storefront until his call. It’d seemed like a good idea yesterday, but I knew nothing about opening a physical store. Then again, I hadn’t known anything about operating an online business until I did it, so there was something to be said for taking the jump.
Dreams were worth chasing.
After a brief screening, Aiden offered a tour and meeting for later that day. I accepted without hesitation. No risk, no reward, right?
I sped through the rest of my work and arrived at the storefront after lunch, overcaffeinated and breathless after nearly getting mowed down by a speeding cab.
My eyes searched the sidewalk for a shiny suit and professionally whitened smile—the hallmarks of a New York Realtor—but I only saw a man who could double as a lumberjack in his flannel shirt and jeans.
“Alessandra? I’m Aiden,” he said. “Glad you could make it, and sorry again about the last-minute meeting. I have a business trip tomorrow and don’t quite know when I’ll be back.”
“No problem.” I tried to hide my surprise. He was younger and better- looking than I’d expected. Late thirties at most, with dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Combined with his casual outfit and friendly demeanor, he looked like he should be buying everyone a round of beer at the nearest pub instead of managing prime real estate. “Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.”
“Not a problem. I’m a bit compulsive about returning calls.” His eyes crinkled with a grin. “According to my best friend, it’s why I’m still single. I can’t stick to the wait three days until you call rule.”
I laughed. “It’s a stupid rule anyway.”
I did wonder briefly if he was hitting on me by bringing up his relationship status so early, but I brushed the sentiment aside. We’d just met, and I wasn’t narcissistic enough to think every man who saw me was interested in me.
Aiden didn’t give off any flirty vibes again during our tour, so I chalked up his quip to mere friendliness.
The walk-through was quick given how small the space was. In addition to the main floor, there was a bathroom and another room that could serve as an office and/or a supply closet. Aiden was honest about the parts of the interior that needed work, which I appreciated, and he listened attentively when I explained what I wanted to do with my business.
“How much is the rent?” I asked at the end of the tour. I probably should’ve confirmed that at the beginning, but I’d been too enamored by the exposed brick walls and natural light to think about the details.
When Aiden quoted me the price, I flinched. I definitely should’ve asked about the price first. There was no way I could afford it with my shop’s current profits, and I didn’t want to complicate the divorce by using my and Dominic’s joint bank account.
“I’ll be honest. I own several properties in the city, but this one is my favorite.” Aiden rapped his knuckles against the wall. “It’s a fixer-upper, but it has charm.”
I would’ve chalked his words up to Realtor talk if I didn’t agree. “You own it personally?”
“Yep. My father bought a couple of places for cheap back in the day, and I added to it. We rent out to about a dozen businesses across the city.” Another flash of a smile. City landlords were rarely nice, and I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that this man owned millions of dollars’ worth of real estate. “This is the only vacant space left. It used to be a bakery, but the previous owners retired a couple of months ago and I haven’t found anyone to replace them. I’m pretty hands-on with my tenants
—they have my number and know they can call any time of day if there’s a problem—so I like to find ones I click with.”
Dammit. A great location, a nice landlord, and brick walls? It was the perfect space…if it didn’t cost an arm and two legs every month.
“That’s great.” I swallowed the disappointment building in my throat. “I’ll be honest, I love the space, I really do, but I can’t afford it. I should’ve
asked before you came all the way here.” I gestured around the sun-dappled main room. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
“You didn’t. As someone who can’t tell one type of lily from another, I’m impressed by what you want to do.” Aiden examined me. “Do you have a lawyer? I’m happy to negotiate with them.”
I had a feeling Cole’s family law expertise didn’t count. “No,” I admitted.
Aiden frowned. He probably thought I was ridiculous, and I didn’t blame him. People planned for milestones like this. Meanwhile, I just walked by the storefront one day and decided I wanted to rent it.
Heat prickled my skin.
“How about this?” he finally said. “If you pay a portion of the construction costs and agree to a longer lease period, I’ll give you three months’ free rent. It should help with initial costs while you get your shop off the ground.”
My eyes jerked back to his. “Why would you do that?” Surprise had dissolved my normal filters, and I didn’t have time to phrase the question in a more tactful way.
“Vacancy is expensive, and I’d rather not spend more time interviewing potential tenants than necessary,” Aiden said. “Like I said, I want people I click with, and even though we just met, I can tell you’re one of them. Pay your rent on time, keep the shop in good condition, and we’ll get along swimmingly.”
I drew my bottom lip between my teeth.
If something sounded too good to be true, it probably was. The last thing I needed was to get scammed into some ruinous real estate scam.
Aiden must’ve picked up on my hesitation because he added, “I know this is moving fast, but it’s hard to find good tenants in the city. When I see one, I tend to snatch them up. I’ll email you a lease with the amended terms so you can have a lawyer look it over. You don’t have to decide now, but I would like an answer within the next two weeks.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”
That sounded fair enough to me. I didn’t want to use Dominic’s lawyers, but one of my friends must know someone who could help me out.
I shook Aiden’s hand, my stomach fluttering with nerves and a hint of excitement. “Deal.”
 |
“He wants to bang you,” Isabella said the following night as we walked into Le Boudoir. “There’s no way a New York City landlord would be that nice unless he has ulterior motives.”
“No, he doesn’t. He has his own business reasons for giving me free rent.” I’d researched it after returning home from the tour yesterday, and it was a common “perk” landlords offered during negotiations.
“Yeah, but the fact he brought it up without you having to ask?” Isabella arched an eyebrow. “Suspicious.”
“I agree.” Vivian slid out of her lush faux fur coat and handed it to the coat check attendant. “Especially since he’s around your age and single. You didn’t see a wedding ring, right?”
During our walk to the restaurant, I’d told my friends what happened with Aiden and I already regretted it. Sloane was the only one missing from the gang-up because she was still in Europe.
“You guys are ridiculous,” I said. “Not everyone has an ulterior motive. Besides, he hasn’t sent the papers yet. Until I have a lawyer look over them, nothing’s concrete.”
I shot a quick glance at Dante and Kai, who were trying their best to pretend they weren’t listening. They’d stayed several steps behind us on the walk over, but I knew they’d heard everything. Considering they were good friends with Dominic, the conversation must have been as awkward for them as it was for me.
Luckily, my friends’ ridiculous assumptions about Aiden’s motives dissolved into greetings and small talk as other guests came over to say hi.
Le Boudoir was the latest jewel in the Laurent Restaurant Group’s crown, and most of Manhattan’s elite had turned out for its exclusive soft
opening. I’d stayed away from society events the past few weeks because I didn’t want to face the inevitable questions about Dominic—no one gossiped more than the rich and idle—but my friends had convinced me to make an exception. It was a small event, it was hosted by Sebastian Laurent, and there was zero chance of Dominic attending since, according to Dante, he was supposed to be en route to London right now.
Key phrase: supposed to be.
My stomach plunged into free fall when I stepped into the main dining room and instantly spotted a familiar head of dark blond hair by the bar. I didn’t even have to look for him; his presence was like gravity drawing me in whether I wanted it to or not.
“You said he was traveling to London,” Vivian whispered, glaring at her husband.
“I said he was supposed to be traveling to London,” Dante corrected. “It seems he, ah, had a change in plans.”
I didn’t hear the rest of their conversation. Everything—the music, the guests, the servers circling with trays of champagne—dulled into a muted roar when Dominic glanced up from his conversation with Sebastian. Our gazes collided, dark blue against light, and the impact almost knocked my knees out from under me.
My heartbeat slowed to a painful rhythm. We’d been married for a decade, yet seeing him here after last night was like laying eyes on him for the first time all over again.
“You must be Dominic. I’m Alessandra, but my friends call me Ále.” I smiled, trying to hide an unexpected spark of attraction.
Even with his glare and cold, stoic expression, Dominic was jaw- droppingly gorgeous. But beyond the chiseled bone structure and muscled build, there was something about him that tugged at my heart.
I recognized the suspicion lurking behind his eyes. It was the type of suspicion born from being let down one too many times by the people around him. My brother had carried the same chip on his shoulder for years before he found his crowd. Maybe that was why I had a soft spot for him
even though we just met; his guardedness reminded me of Marcelo’s, which used to be mistaken for standoffishness.
“Hello, Alessandra.” Dominic’s careful enunciation of my full name told me breaking down his walls would be a challenge. Luckily, I thrived on challenges.
But when he sat across from me, and a small swarm of butterflies erupted at the brush of his jeans against my leg, I realized I might already be in well over my head.
Present-day Dominic’s throat flexed. He wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to Sebastian, and I wanted to look away, to act like everything was fine and I wasn’t affected by his presence, but his gaze chained me to the spot.
I hated the effect he had on me. I hated how my eyes always went to him in a room full of people and how I couldn’t stop thinking about him no matter how hard I tried. Most of all, I hated how I couldn’t hate him, not even a little bit. No matter how many times he broke my heart, there would always be a piece that belonged to him.
A familiar ache unfurled behind my ribs.
Dominic shifted as if to walk toward me, but someone bumped into my side and finally dragged my attention away from the bar.
An iron grip closed around my elbow, steadying me. “Apologies.” The low, cool voice sounded like the aural equivalent of a razor blade wrapped in silk.
“It’s…” My sentence faltered when I looked up.
A brutally handsome man with green eyes, pale skin, and the sharpest jawline I’d ever seen stared back at me. Despite his good looks, something about him instantly put me on red alert.
He removed his hand from my arm and offered an apologetic smile that didn’t reach those cold, flat eyes.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. Before I could say anything else, he disappeared into the crowd and left me with an unsettling sense of foreboding.
The foreboding intensified when I returned my gaze to the bar only to find Dominic gone, like he’d never been there at all.
