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“I have a lot of charms.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ace. Yours?”
She shook her head. “Wow, of course it is… tall, good-looking””—she looked down at our joined hands—“a Rolex, so you’re either in debt or rich.” Her frown deepened. “Sad though, still sad with those eyes.”
“Being sad isn’t a crime.” I squeezed her hand. “Just like meeting a random stranger on an elevator on a rough day can actually happen, I mean it does in the movies, why not live out that fantasy?”
“No wedding ring.” She inspected, tilting our joined hands left and right. “All right, let’s live out that fantasy today and I’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes. Also…” Her smile was kind, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “My name’s Bri. Thanks for helping me stand on my feet.”
I didn’t say anytime.
I was all out of promises, but I did have the best meal of my life with the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.
Things went well until it all went to hell months later, when I fell in love with her and got rejected.
When she told me it was her, not me.
When she walked out of my life after changing her number.
A stain on my jacket was how “rough” my day had been going, I had no clue that my year would end with a stain on my heart and a girl that had no social media who I couldn’t contact who made me open up, only to make me close down the minute she walked out of my life.
A true partner? A mate?
Yeah, that didn’t exist, not in the real world.
Chapter Two
Bri
Two Years Later
Walking up to a crazy huge company in Seattle was not on my bucket list, in fact, the whole plan was to move to some sad farm in the middle of the country think about my life choices, maybe even possibly jump up on farmers only dot com and find a man to take care of me despite his inability to shower every day.
Trust me, I tested it.
Both dates were so bad that I thought it was a joke. Though I couldn’t complain about the tight Wranglers.
So being in Seattle, again, was not one of my life choices, but it was the only job, the only firm that hired me for marketing.
I knew I was good at it, even though it was marketing for a hotel that I had zero care for with all its modern facilities and yoga studios—it was still a job and at this point I was so done after the last few years of being a failure that it made sense.
I mean, everything made sense other than knowing that I had to compete for this paid internship with one other person who passed all the tests.
Apparently, he graduated Ivy League and had a vendetta for all humans attempting to get the same job. Basically, on paper he was an ass, in real life, I imagined he’d be terrifying, but I knew enough and had experienced enough that nothing really scared me anymore.
Not after what I’d been through.
I always thought of the word after as, after him, after that experience, after that moment in my world where things went dark, so why now? Why would I even care about a tiny little bleep on my career trajectory?
I had my MBA, was only twenty-five, and was going to be working at the biggest hotel chain in the world.
Things weren’t sad.
Maybe I was, sometimes, but career-wise anyone would be jealous.
I straightened my black faded jacket and made sure my white button up was tucked into my skinny jeans and double checked my second hand camel-colored boots.
