It Feels Like

She’d splurged on the perfect cocktail dress for a swanky wine-tasting. Norman promised her a local celebrity was interested in talking to her about her designs. She tried to ignore the fact that wine tastings only reminded her of Brad and his condo and romantic dinners for two. But here she was, walking into Hotel Chantelle in a pair of bright blue heels and a matching clutch.

The inside of the building was dim, but everything looked expensive and tasteful. She flashed the ticket that Norman had sent her via courier. She’d refused to go back to his office after the near disaster with Brad. He’d had the nerve to wait for her in the conference room like it was an ambush. She had nothing to say to him. He was the one who had walked off that night and left after using her. It was hard to lie, though. She had felt a swell of emotion run through her when she saw him standing there in his suit and tie, leaning against the wall so casually. If she rewound her life a few months, then she’d find herself sitting on his lap, eating strawberries between kisses while they looked out over the City. It made her heart hurt.

She’d made it down five flights before the tears welled up in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She’d wiped them away angrily and grabbed an elevator to the ground floor. The next day she’d called Norman and told him that she wouldn’t ever be back if he let Brad in the office while she was there. He’d agreed to keep Brad away.

The wine tasting was in full swing when she walked in the restaurant. There was a group crowded by the bar, but most people were milling around the room on a circuit, networking and introducing themselves. Movers and shakers, Keri thought. She felt out-of-place and hurried over to the bar to get herself a drink so she had something to do with her hands.

While they were pouring her a glass of Pinot Grigio, a very handsome man in a three piece suit walked up to stand beside her at the bar. “Hello,” he said.

Keri glanced over and smiled. “Hi.”

“You wouldn’t be Keri, would you?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I am. How did you know?”

“Well, I didn’t know know you, so I assumed. I’m Hank.” He extended his hand, and she turned toward him to shake it. “Norm tells me that you’re responsible for the shirts in Odin.”

“Oh,” she replied nodding her head. “The Hank I came here to meet. Yes, those are mine.” She looked him up and down. The man knew how to dress and his eyes were magnetic. She couldn’t look away.

Hank gestured to a small table by the bar and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down and watched as he settled his lanky frame into the seat opposite her. The man was a clotheshorse. He knew how to dress and anything probably looked good on him.

“Norman said you’re a local celebrity. What do you do?”

Hank flashed her a brilliant smile. “I play hockey.”

Keri felt her stomach drop. “Oh? Professionally?”

“For the Rangers. You’re not a fan of hockey?”

She shook her head. “No, can’t say I am.”

“I hope you at least like the Rangers. You’re in New York City after all.”

Was this a set up or a coincidence? Had Brad concocted an excuse to keep an eye on her? She felt silly even thinking it. He hand’t even cared enough to call her over the summer. It had been months; he probably didn’t even know she was meeting with his teammate. “I’m not a sports person,” she finally said.

“Well, then let’s talk fashion.”

And they did talk fashion for several minutes. Hank was familiar with the set of pieces she had sold to a menswear boutique in SoHo, and he seemed to like them. She even jotted down some ideas on a napkin, promising him a couple custom pieces to set off some of the more drab suits in his closet.

Hank was polite and professional, which was refreshing for someone who looked as good as he did. When she stood up to shake his hand, he pulled her closer. “I have a friend who would love your work.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, a teammate of mine who loves fashion as well. He’s here somewhere tonight. Perhaps you could wait while I find him.”

She felt the worry in the pit of her stomach. “Who?”

“Brad Richards. Do you know him?”

Did she ever. Or maybe she didn’t know Brad at all. She hadn’t pegged him as the kind of guy to cut and run. “I... no. I need to be going anyway.”

“Why don’t you just sit here for a minute while I find him. He’d be so upset to know he didn’t have the chance to speak to someone who is so talented.”

“That’s really not necessary. Maybe some other time.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Hank?” The man who had just approached them was tall with dark hair that was perfectly coifed. His smile was brilliant when he turned his eyes on Keri.

“This is Keri. Keri, this is Michael Del Zotto. He’s also a teammate of mine.”

“Hi, Keri. Nice to meet you.” Michael shook her hand, holding onto it a bit longer than necessary.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she replied. Were all the Rangers gorgeous male specimens? she wondered. It seemed unfair that they were successful athletes and gifted with good looks as well.

"So, how do you know Richie?" he asked.

"Richie?" She asked, looking at Hank. She thought his name was Hank.

"Brad. Brad Richards," Michael clarified.

Hank shifted and glanced at Michael then back to her. "So you know Brad, then?" He looked uncomfortable for the first time.

"Not really. I used to know him, I guess." She watched Hank lift his hand and wave someone over. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Brad. What was this? A setup? She felt trapped between Hank and Michael, no clear escape route visible.

He was behind her. She could feel the magnetic pull of his body. A body she had gotten to know so well that night in May. Michael seemed oblivious to the tension in the air, but Hank was watching her with careful eyes. It was a setup after all. Hank was the bait. And Brad was probably responsible for the party. It infuriated her that he thought he could just manipulate her into letting him back in her life.

"Hi, Keri," he said softly as he stepped up to stand beside her.

"Brad," she acknowledged in a tight voice.

"Could I talk to you for a minute? Alone?" His voice was soft, meant only for her ears. All three of them were watching her, waiting for an answer. Talking to Brad, especially alone, was a bad idea. She felt weak when it came to him because the memory of him naked in her bed was still very fresh, even after months.

"I was just speaking to Hank about my work."

"Oh, we can continue at another time," Hank replied. Obviously he was in on it.

"Maybe Michael wants to hear about it." She looked at the younger man and he smiled, flashing her his brilliant, white teeth.

"I'd love to," he replied. "Can I get you a drink, Keri."

She took his extended arm and followed him over to the far end of the bar. Her savor, even if he looked like he was barely old enough to drink.

"Richie is giving me a death glare," he whispered.

"Thank you," she whispered back, sliding up onto a vacant stool.

He took the one next to her and leaned in close enough that she could smell his cologne and see the flecks of color in his stunning eyes. "So what's the deal between you two?"

"There's nothing."

"He told me that you're off limits."

She froze, her glass of wine only an inch from her lips. She put it back down on the bar. "What does that mean?"

"That I was going to ask you out, but Richie said I can't."

Anger shot through her. "He has no right to interfere in my life like that. He was the one that walked away."

"So, you would have said yes if I asked you out? "

She looked over at Michael. “What? You're like ten years younger than me."

"I have a young, impressionable mind. You could mold me."

Keri laughed. "I'm not about to start being a cougar. But I'm flattered."

"So why is Richie telling everyone hands off? You and him used to date?"

She knocked back the rest of her wine. "We used to be friends."

"Like a few years back?"

"More like a few months back. We hung out a few times at the beginning of the year. He decided I wasn't important enough to talk to over the summer."

Michael's eyes were wide. "You don't know anything about hockey, do you?"

She shook her head. "Sorry."

"Richie had a tough year."

"I know. But it's no excuse." She stood up and straightened her dress. "I should be going. Thanks for saving me."

"Keri," Michael called out. She turned around. "Don't be too hard on him."

She smiled, trying to keep the bitterness off her face. "He was hard on me."

Notes