When Rain Falls

Prologue | When I Met You the First Time

     You are so lucky.

     I don't know how many times I've heard those words today. Was it around fifty? A hundred? Probably a thousand times. I don't know, I've lost count. One thing's for sure, though. I'm honestly getting sick of the word lucky.

     "You are so lucky," I heard an older woman say to the bride. "You've finally found your prince charming!"

     "Huh," I shook my head and turned to the mirror on the wall, checking to see if my makeup's still intact. "Prince charming doesn't exist." I whispered to myself. I reached inside my black clutch to retrieve a black tube of red lipstick.

     One of the servers passed by and I quickly turned around to snatch one of the champagne glasses from the tray he was holding. I raised my glass at him. "Merci."

     Vincent Sterling, one of my dad's younger friends, finally got married to the love of his life. I remember one time when my dad was hanging out with Vincent and his dad at a barbecue, he suddenly joked that he wanted Vincent to be his son-in-law. I blushed like a tomato after hearing that. It crushed my dad's heart when I told him I refused to date Vincent. I mean, why would I date him? He had just broken up with his ex-fiancé at the time.

     That's the last thing I want to be. A rebound. Trust me, it will never work out. Plus, it would be a little disrespectful in Vincent's part. No one really knows why Vincent and his ex broke up in the first place. All I know is that as soon as he was available, women flocked to him because he was back in the market. Reporters had a field day outside his home.

     I tipped my head back, gulping down the champagne as fast as I could. It was time for me to leave.

     "Care for another champagne?" Someone asked next to me.

     I looked up and saw a guy smirking down on me, holding a glass of champagne in his right hand. Thick jet black hair, smooth, milky white skin. Nice height. I'm guessing he's probably around 6 foot something.

     "Sorry," I flashed a smile, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. "I don't accept drinks from strangers."

     "Good girl." He held his champagne glass up and took a sip.

     "Yeah. Sorry, bud. Even if you look handsome as hell, I wouldn't dare accept it."

     "Bad experience?" He asked curiously, moving closer next to me.

     "No, it's just common sense," I said. "You don't need to experience it to know it's bad. Everyone should know that."

     "You're right about that," he took another sip. "Guest of the bride or the groom?"

     "Groom." I replied, snatching another glass of champagne from the server's tray.

     "How about you?"

     "Groom." He quickly answered, slipping one hand in his pocket.

     Before I could say another word, an older gentleman stopped in front us to acknowledge him. They shook hands. I recognized the old man as one of my dad's business friends. I don't think he knows me, though. While I waited for them to finish their conversation, I noticed how the guy I was talking to has such cute dimples. I didn't notice it at the beginning when he started talking to me. He seemed like a really nice guy. Charming. You could easily tell a person's personality based on how they speak and carry themselves.

     The old man excused himself and went on his way to greet the newlyweds. The guy turned to me. "Sorry about that."

     "It's alright," I pressed my lips together in a tight line. "Um, hey. I know this sounds like a stupid question, and I'm not stalking you or anything, I promise, but where are you from?"