𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 two years ago, my life changed forever. All it took was one night to alter the rest of my life. I wasn't sure about a lot of things however, there are two things that I was absolutely certain on: what I wanted to wear and who...
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One year later.
"Another espresso martini, please."
"Another?" The bartender smiles, spinning around and making my drink. When he slides it over, he grazes my hand. "Trying to forget something?"
I sip the well-made drink. "Does bad company count?"
He clicks his tongue, tilts his head. "Don't tell me you've been on a date this whole time."
He's attractive. They all are—New York City bartenders. Brown hair, olive skin, light brown eyes, symmetrical eyebrows. Reminds me a lot of somebody I used to know, actually.
"No," I laugh, trace my finger around the rim of my cocktail glass. "I'm with my 'friends'."
"Oh," He nods, flicking his eyes over to the loud group of girls in the corner who I've been sitting with. "Did a muppet die for her coat?"
I throw my head back, enjoying his company a lot more than the friends I've made out here. I've been coming to and from the bar to order more drinks and using the excuse to flirt with brown eyes.
It wasn't easy, by the way. Don't think I did what I did because I wanted to. That's far from the truth. I did what I did because I had to—because I couldn't stay in London anymore.
Leaving during my sister's wake was by far the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. Looking back and seeing George's face stripped of all emotions as he helplessly watched me shut the door on his heart keeps me up at night.
But I know why he didn't chase me. He couldn't. He couldn't move. Something in his subconscious told him that I had to go, that he had to let me go whether he wanted to or not.
I got on the first first-class flight out here that night, went straight to the apartment I'd bought on Park Avenue. I hadn't planned to leave but my broker at Sotheby's emailed me this beautiful two-bedroom, three-bath penthouse with the most amazing view and something screamed at me to buy it. I took a chunk out of my savings and did just that.
I love New York, I came here a lot before anyway. Heidi loved it here too. The apartment wasn't going to go to waste. And besides, I've been renting it out since I bought it. But now I live there.
It's a far cry from my thirty million, custom furniture Knightsbridge home but it's better than staying at a hotel. I sold my apartment in London, anyway. Mia moved out, Astrid lives with Charlie. Why did I need it?
"What are you doing later?" The bartender leans over the bar, gaze piercing into me and creating a fire low in my stomach I haven't felt for a while.
