“Oh no,” I laughed, glancing at the name on my vanity plate. “Carrie's my car's name. It was a joke present from my friend, Zenya. She named it when we were roommates and—” I caught myself nervously rambling. I paused and started over with a small smile. “Hi. My name is Calli.”
“What did you say your friend's name—” Veto began to ask as I walked over to shake his hand. One of my low heels slipped into a crack in the pavement and snapped clean off. I squeaked out a cry as I stumbled, tripping over my own feet.
I pinched my eyes closed and braced. As I fell, all I could think about was how terrible the bruises were going to look in the pretty bridesmaid dress.
A pair of strong arms caught me before I hit.
Veto stood over me, water tracing his perfect nose, irresistible lips and hard jawline. He held me for a few seconds. The scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh rain and thick, earthy tang of the car's oil; it made me forget how to swallow or even breathe.
To my surprise, Veto looked thrown off by the contact, like he wasn't at all prepared for us to touch. There was no way a man as confident and devilishly handsome as him didn't have a different girl in his bed every night.
No fucking way.
But there it was; his upturned eyes betrayed a guarded sensitivity. Veto's pursed lips separated to say something as he helped me to my feet, but nothing came out. My cheeks and chest beamed red hot with embarrassment; how could I be so clumsy?
“Thanks,” I blurted. I pulled away, taking a few lopsided steps. Stripping off what was left of my shoes, I rushed towards my apartment. “I—I need to go.”
He didn't stop me. He didn't say another word.
Bursting through my door, I slammed it behind me. With a long groan, I slumped to the floor. I was mortified by the way I just ran off, but I couldn't stop myself. My heart rattled like it was convinced I had just run a marathon.
I groaned again when I remembered the moving truck and storage pod. That has to mean he lives here now. HERE! In my apartment complex! There was no escaping the future awkwardness. What the hell was I going to do the next time I saw him?
Well, at least I won't have to worry about it for the next few days. It was the first time since Zenya invited me to her wedding that I felt anything other than apprehension.
Chapter 2
Calli
Despite my three alarms, I woke up late.
I quickly packed the nicest clothes I owned and raced out the door. More like snuck out, actually, but it didn't matter. The moving van was gone; Veto was nowhere to be seen. Small miracles.
I was greeted with a parking ticket tucked under a wiper blade. Crushing it in a fist, I tightened every muscle in my body and breathed out in a tight hiss. I knew this would happen—but it would be okay. As long as my car started, nothing else mattered.
Shoving my bags into the back, I climbed into the front seat and turned the key. Carrie rumbled like a well-fed kitten; thank goodness. This weekend might not start off on such a bad foot, after all.
The drive into New York was something else. When I wasn't stuck in traffic, I was getting cut off and nearly driven off the road! It was Saturday morning, why was everyone so aggressive behind the wheel here? It was almost too stressful for me to dwell on how stupidly I'd acted around Veto last night. Almost.
Images of him soaked to the bone in his see-through shirt lit by lightning flashes buried me under the weight of wild fantasies. What could've happened if I hadn't run off like a lunatic last night? I could still feel the pressure of his hands on my back and smell his scent. It was enough to send goosebumps up my arms.
For the hundredth time during that drive, I scolded myself to forget him.
But then I saw something that finally erased the hot stranger from my mind.
There it was; the jagged, magnificent New York City skyline. It filled both the horizon and my soul with a sense of awe and wonder. Manhattan was scary and beautiful and unique, and every time I saw the sharp point of the Chrysler building my heart felt a little lighter. It was something about the old, Art Deco-style that made it my favorite building. I could only imagine waking up and seeing it every morning.
There was so much rich history here. This was where things happened. Unlike my sleepy, unimportant little town, this was where the world was shaped. This was where I was always supposed to be.
The text from Zenya popped up and blocked the navigation on my phone. “Where you at, Chili?”
In my haste to reply and explain that I was using my phone for directions, I missed my damn turn. “Dammit!” The reroute added a half hour and two more tolls to my drive.
When I pulled into the hotel parking lot I caught a glimpse of my hair in the rearview mirror. What a mess! My wavy brown hair was a frizzy disaster. Apparently the rain and winter chill last night was too much for it because even the hair spray I used this morning wasn't working like it should.
I would have loved to visit my room after checking in so I could straighten up, but I didn't have time--I was already running late. It's fine, Zenya won't care how I look. Who was I trying to impress?
I lugged my bags inside and gave my name to the hotel staff behind the check in counter. They greeted me with a practiced, chipper insincerity that was only a little grating.
The woman typed at her computer. Suddenly, her mouth tightened. “I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't have a room for you.”
“There must be some kind of mistake.” As tired as I was, I still tried to keep the confusion and anger from my voice. “I definitely booked a room. Can you double check? I had to take an extra shift at work just to pay for it!”
“I'm so sorry, but there's no reservation in here for you.”
I exhaled most of the annoyance that was building in me. I'd worked in the service industry long enough to know not to shoot the messenger. It was an emotional day and it was far from over. “Just give me another one then.”
“Unfortunately, there are no more rooms. It looks like everything is booked here.” The lady looked nearly remorseful. “We're very sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience?” Okay. Now I was pissed. “I just drove three hours to be here and you're telling me that you don't have my room. I need a place to sleep for the night!”
The woman looked down and furiously began typing. After a few minutes she swiveled the computer monitor around for me to see. Her expression hadn't changed. “I just did a check of the hotels in the area. Between the Governor's ball and the marathon, it looks like they're all booked up, too.”
No. This could not be happening!
She barely got the words out before I stomped away. I had to leave before I made a scene. I thought about calling Zenya to ask if I could sleep at her apartment but quickly dismissed that idea. We weren't in college anymore; I couldn't do that to her and her fiancé.
The vicarious embarrassment I felt at even the thought of sleeping on their couch the day before their wedding mortified me. Besides, she'd mentioned that some of her family was already staying with them, so there probably wasn't even any room.
I sat on one of the plush, ivory colored couches in the reception area and tried not to hyperventilate. I slumped over my knees and covered my face with my hands.