The Sound of Serendipity Page 7

  “Mm hm.” I’m not certain but maybe his words hold more meaning than he’s letting on. My eyes nearly cross, I’m so focused on the ground floor’s lit-up button because I can’t let myself think that Maddox may be talking about me.

  He clears his throat.

  Nope. No way.

  I keep staring.

  Not a chance in hell.

  “Promise me something tonight?” He faces me full on and I want to tell him I’d promise him anything. Instead, I wait for him to continue. “Promise you’ll just go with it.”

  “With what?”

  “Anything. If we only have a drink, we only have a drink. But if we have the best night of our lives, then don’t overthink it.” He’s leaning in closer and I can smell him. It makes me want to lose my balance and fall into him. My eyelids are already feeling heavy, a reaction to having smelled him. I’m standing so close to him in this small space.

  I blink. One drink or the best night of our lives? It isn’t hard for me to decide what tonight would be for me.

  “You sure are putting a lot on me,” I whisper as he faces the doors again just as they open and we step out.

  “‘Life is either a daring adventure or nothing,’” he quotes Helen Keller as easily as he breathes, just like a man who spends his spare time as a broom, sweeping women off their feet.

  “And what do you think tonight will be?”

  “Let’s find out.” He grins as we walk outside. I tug on my coat and try to keep my eyes on where I’m heading.

  Maybe tonight will be nothing. But as I look around at the people and the lights and the buildings so tall that I feel tiny, it feels like it could be amazing.

  “Which way do you want to go?” he asks. He places his hand on the small of my back as I point to the left. As we walk, his hand remains on me and I can’t think about the last time I let someone who wasn’t my father or Holly touch me for more than a few moments. Because the last time was the last time….

  My thoughts drift off and I remember how different I was then. How small the world was and how large I seemed. I was in control. Until I came to the city. Now I know how foolish I was to think I was the center of my world.

  “The city has a way of reminding you how insignificant you are,” I muse out loud. I keep offering directions, and we keep heading toward just a drink or the best night ever.

  “But it can also remind you just how great you can be. The tall buildings and the endless opportunities. Kind of shows you how dreams can come true. Somewhere along the way, a man wanted to build the tallest building. And now we’re surrounded by them.” He doesn’t remove his hand from my back. Up ahead I hear music.

  “The first bar?” I ask, making sure I know the rules. Because I’m sure as we near the reverberating bass, this wasn’t what Maddox had in mind.

  “Yep,” he answers, despite the men in heels and wigs going in and coming out.

  “Here goes nothing,” I say as we walk up and a man with longer lashes than all of Manhattan asks for our cover charge. We check our coats, and I don’t even bother ignoring the flash of flesh I catch as Maddox removes his. I witness the happy trail of one Maddox Bailey, and though my breath is caught in my throat, I survive.

  I imagine my heart, with its sharp teeth and angry demeanor rattling my ribs to get the hell out of my chest.

  “Technically, this is a club,” he shouts over the music, “but I’ll bite.” The word bite makes me think of those white teeth on my soft skin, and I can’t decide if the pulsing between my thighs is from anticipation or from the loud music.

  We have to push through the bodies, and in an effort not to lose me, Maddox has his hand wrapped around my wrist. We’re almost holding hands, and I can’t handle the body heat and the internal heat that’s making it hard to breathe. He has to feel the way my pulse beats against his palm. The ropes leading to my heart, keeping it tethered to me, are giving me away. He looks back at me with a smile, and I feel like we’re headed into some sort of paradise.

  This place reminds me of our bodies’ most basic and primal function, and the music makes me want to give into it.

  When we sit, the male bartender looks swamped so I sit back, ready to wait my turn.

  “What do you want?” Maddox asks, leaning into me so I can hear him. If I turn, our noses would touch. Maybe our lips would too. I can’t help the way the world thrusts us together, but I can help throwing myself at him.

  “Vodka tonic,” I shout over the loud rhythm that has people dancing like animals against one another.

  “Be right back.” The smile on his face makes me think that keeping my fantasies in check will be harder than I thought. Why does he have to be so…mouthwateringly appealing?

  The music playing is good—a strong ballad over an original techno beat. I’m moving a little in my seat. When I feel a tap on my shoulder, I turn expecting Maddox and not the woman in front of me.

  “Wanna dance?” she shouts before shimmying a little and jerking her thumb toward the sea of writhing bodies. Her shoulder-length hair is purple and her nose is pierced. She looks like she knows she’s gorgeous in her T-shirt and skintight leather pants. I look around for Maddox and spot him talking to the bartender. I almost tell her no, but I remember what Maddox and I talked about. I would usually say no, but tonight is supposed to be different from any other night—the best night ever—and I have to do things I usually wouldn’t, so I nod and despite my nervousness, I let her grab my hand and we head out on the dance floor. I follow her dangerous stilettos in my expensive but timid pumps. We aren’t quite in the center when she grabs my hands and turns me. I wave her closer as she starts to move her hips.

  “I like men,” I yell, tucking my loose strands of hair behind my ear. Particularly the one sitting at the bar.

  She throws her head back and laughs and when she straightens, those purple locks look like lavender flames around her face.

  “I like it all,” she tells me as she pulls me closer. I believe it. She does whatever she wants, shakes what she wants and moves however she likes. The dance floor is her home, and I feel like I’m just a visitor. I think to myself that this woman would give someone like Maddox a run for his money. I wonder what he would think of her. Then I wonder what he thinks of me.

  I’m not as brave as she is, but I’m working up a sweat as she brushes against me. My hair is sticking to the back of my neck. The song begins to mesh into another and I thank her for the dance. She laughs again and kisses my cheek and I’m blushing.

  “I like dancing with beautiful women. It was nothing.” That crazy gorgeous woman thinks I’m beautiful. I smile as I head back to the bar where Maddox salutes me with his glass.

  “What are you thinking of tonight so far?” he asks and pushes my drink toward me.

  I sip it and my smile comes back to life.

  “It’s only just begun.” I sound so sure and I love it.

  “Better than what you had planned?”

  “You have no idea,” I tell him.

  I think about my apartment and my pajamas. I think about tea and my bed and maybe checking my email and watching a movie. All of these things would be on the agenda tonight and while they feel right, I’m learning that what I’m doing now doesn’t feel wrong. It just feels different.

  I finish my drink and I wonder if this is where my carriage turns into a pumpkin. Before I can register the melancholy feeling, the bartender is sliding another drink my way and I’m looking at Maddox.

  “I opened up a tab and told him to keep ’em coming.” He shrugs. “Sometimes you have to take fate into your own hands. Best night ever?” He holds his glass up and taps it against mine.

  “Best night ever,” I repeat. If I survive it.

  We sit and laugh over meaningless words and several men ask Maddox to dance, and though he refuses, he’s polite. They know how to handle his rejection though, better than I ever could. I watch them all walk away and find someone else to dance with. I don’t bother wondering about
their stories because all I can think of is the way my tongue feels a little loose, which is probably bad for me since I can’t be sure if the things I’m thinking are making it out of my mouth.

  “They are,” Maddox whispers close to my ear. “Best be careful before I ask to hear your deepest, darkest secrets, Emmy.” The sound of my childhood nickname on his lips makes me smile. Big. I’m smiling so much tonight that my cheeks ache a little.

  I don’t let myself think anything because I know the answer to my deepest darkest secret, and if I think it, he’ll hear it.

  You.

  I peer up at him and maybe I’ve said it out loud but he’s just bobbing his head to the music, his skin glowing a little under the colorful lights. He finishes his drink and sets the glass down with a determined thud.

  “Let’s cut a rug.” Without another word, he stands and pulls me up. I’m flush against him and I take a step back to get my bearings. We’re both smiling as he grabs my hand and leads me toward the crowd. He’s holding my hand, and I’m trying not to think too much of it but it’s impossible not to.

  Then he faces me and starts moving, and I have to remember we’re dancing so standing here looking at him might be weird. Really weird. So I move too. His hands reach for me, and I wonder where they’ll land.

  My hips.

  Shit.

  I turn and face the crowd, and in an effort not to lose my cool, I look around. These people are doing their own dances and maybe they’re all experiencing the sweet hell I am, but I doubt it. I know that although the darkness hides my flush, it’s there. I’ve never felt this way before. This man could be heaven and hell and I’d both flourish and perish by his hand.

  His fingers push my damp hair from my nape, and I can feel his breath along the now bare skin. It’s so warm in the club that his exhale feels cool. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut, hoping he didn’t hear me. I’ve lost my mind. It’s likely on the bottom of the room-temperature vodka tonic I left on the bar.

  I wonder if I’m still moving or if it’s just the world around me and when his hands grip my hips a little tighter, I lick my lips and turn to face him.

  He’s looking at me in a way I don’t understand, partly because I can only see the shadows around his face and he’s so close that the details are fuzzy. When he leans in, I’m ready. I’m ready for my destruction.

  “I’m gonna get us another drink,” he tells me and before I can respond, he’s leading us back to our seats at the bar which are no longer vacant. It’s such a quick escape that part of me still feels like I’m back there, his breath on my face and his hands on my body. But the more time that passes and the more my sweat cools, the more I want to get out of here because I’m proven not to be trusted when Maddox is involved. If I had any question about it, it’s been confirmed. I can’t be in this man’s presence without filling my head with romantic notions.

  “Damn it,” he mutters, and though it’s too low to hear, I see his lips spit the words out.

  “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I’m getting a little tired of this place anyway.”

  I don’t tell him that I want to see him clearly, in good lighting, so I know without a doubt why he leaned in. Or if I’m just a silly woman imagining things.

  “Come on. Let’s find our next adventure,” I urge him, and he smiles before heading to the bartender.

  Chapter 8

  Not fifteen minutes later, we’re outside and it’s too cold to take a walk but we do it anyway.

  “What made you want to work at Kingsley?” I ask him. I’m trying not to shiver but the cold is relentless.

  He sighs and I get the feeling he doesn’t want to talk about it until he opens his mouth to speak.

  “I worked for another label for ten years, and I did a little producing on the side. But…I don’t know. I guess the label changed or maybe I did. Anyway, I wasn’t too fond of the way things were going. So I left. I tried to produce full-time, but I was self-taught so a lot of places wanted nothing to do with me. Lost my little bit of clientele when I quit, so I started applying for another A&R position. Kept getting turned down. My experience makes my salary a little higher than the kids coming off the school bus so no one wanted me.” He gestures with his hands and it’s like he’s directing an orchestra and not a conversation, and I wonder if he recognizes the sweet infatuation in my eyes.

  “That’s not to say I wasn’t genuinely interested in Kingsley initially, but I kind of wrote the label off because…it’s huge! I’m no one. Anyway, I read an article on your dad. That man is amazing, by the way. Good job picking him,” he says with a laugh as he jams his hands in his jacket pockets—much to my disappointment—and his breath comes out in clouds. “He is self-taught.”

  My heart swells with pride. My dad is someone to be admired, and I can’t help but feel poorly about any animosity I’ve tried not to feel toward him.

  “So I’m like, ‘I’ve gotta meet this guy!’ I use a lot of my connections, get in good with some PR folks, and next thing I know, I’m rubbing elbows with someone from HR who tells me there’s a position available and that she’ll slip my résumé to the top of the pile.”

  I think of the women I’ve seen him with and I wonder about those relationships. I wonder if this woman from HR was one of them. I hadn’t seen him with anyone I recognized, but I’m sure Maddox doesn’t take all of his conquests to the park.

  “A few weeks later, I get an interview and then I get called for another. The day I ran into you at Kingsley, I was scheduled to sit down with your father for the final interview.” He smiles at the night sky, and I’m recklessly wishing I could twinkle so he’d smile at me.

  “Possibilities,” I say.

  “Possibilities,” he says.

  For once, I feel my age. If my twenties are for dreaming, I’m using them all up on Maddox.

  We’re walking aimlessly but it’s still cold, so when I see a diner up ahead, I point to it.

  “It’s possible they have good hot chocolate.” I tuck my hands under my arms and wait for him to tell me to catch all of the stars and bring them to him. I’d try. I look away so he can’t see the stupid shit I’m thinking.

  “We should find out,” he says, and I’m back to being sane.

  We’re crossing the street when my phone rings. I look down to see Hollis’ name before I tuck it back in my pocket. If Maddox saw it, he doesn’t say anything.

  The warmth in the diner envelops us the moment we enter. Under the bright lights, I can see Maddox’s hair is a little mussed and his cheeks are an adorable shade of pink. We sit in a booth and I remove my coat.

  “What’ll you guys be having?” A woman who sounds like she smokes too much asks from behind the counter.

  “Hot chocolate for the both of us,” Maddox says.

  “And a slice of cake. Or pie. Any kind of dessert is fine,” I tell her. Time to make good on the promises I made to myself.

  “Dessert?”

  “If tonight is going to be the best night ever, I have to have dessert.” I run my bottom teeth over my top lip and I wonder what’s next. We drink hot chocolate and then what?

  “Are those your favorite earrings?” Maddox asks, and I realize I’m running my fingers over them.

  I shrug.

  “I don’t have a favorite. But these are probably the closest.” I look up as the woman sets our mugs and cake between us. Maddox hands her a twenty and tells her to keep the change.

  “You didn’t have to,” I tell him and it’s his turn to shrug.

  “Tell me about your earrings.” He sounds interested, and if I’m willing to snatch the stars from the night sky, I should be more than okay with sharing bits of myself with him.

  “My mom used to wear these. I remember her being happy. Always happy. So I wear these when I’m reminding myself that happiness is a journey and not a destination.”

  He sips his hot chocolate and I can tell by the way he winces that it’s a little hot. I laugh as he licks at the whipped cream on
his upper lip.

  “Shit, that burns.”

  “Everyone knows you have to either wait or blow on it,” I say as I continue to laugh. I glance out the window, and I love how we look in that second. Laughing and together, it looks like one of my very best dreams.

  “I haven’t had this in such a long time.”

  It feels so easy between us that, before I know it, I’m talking without thinking. I’m not worried about sounding stupid or about what to say. I just say what comes to mind.

  “I hate coffee so I love autumn and winter because it’s socially acceptable to order hot cocoa at all the cafés. In the spring and summer, I usually stick with tea.”

  “New York has a serious problem with judgmental baristas,” he tells me with a face so serious, I’m unable to tell if he’s joking until he smiles. It’s a slow one, one that tells me to come see what’s so funny.

  “You haven’t had to sit in a cab with windows that don’t go up while it’s raining. Then we’ll talk about New York’s problems,” I say as I start to laugh again.

  “My first few years in the city, I had three roommates. They ate all my food, never gave me money for it, and never pitched in on the rent.” He chuckles. “Yeah, they were rats. As big as my hands.” He holds them up for me to see, and I remember what they felt like on my back and over my hand.

  I cut my piece of chocolate cake in half and gesture toward it with my fork. He picks his up, and when I take my first bite, I grunt and close my eyes. It’s been so long. I open my eyes and Maddox is sliding his fork out of his mouth and maybe it’s not sexual at all for anyone else. But for me, I want to swipe everything off of the tabletop and lay in front of him like something sweet enough to rival his current dessert.

  “So good,” I say, my voice low.

  “Ever had it with ice cream on top?”

  Images of Maddox licking cold cream from my skin fills my head, and I have to take a moment to remember that we’re talking about baked goods. That sexual energy from the club still clings to my psyche and I try to brush it off.