Chapter 15 - Victoria

Victoria

7:42pm Party express, now boardinggggggg

I sighed, tossing my phone on the bed. Killian’s texts were like DEFCON alerts. The more letters he left trailing at the end, the more impatient or excited he was for something to happen. Judging by the amount of ‘g’s’, he was bursting at the seams.

Admittedly, I was excited too. Legends quarterback Noah Tate’s annual fundraiser started in less than an hour. Every year he held it at a different venue, and this year it was at a trendy new restaurant and bar called The Roof.

I dabbed some gloss to my lips and did one last check in the mirror. Black lace dress. Red heels. Hair loose and wavy. You clean up ok, Chase. For a horrible person .

By the time I got down to the lobby of my building, Killian was waiting, tapping his foot. “The queen emerges,” he proclaimed, engulfing me in a tight hug. “You are stunning. Stun-ing.”

“Good to know you received your payment for compliments this week.”

“Baby girl,” he draped an arm over my shoulders, “my compliments are always free of charge. Let’s go.”

He led me out to the waiting limo, where Maxim was already seated with a glass of champagne.

“Beautiful girl on approach.” He let out a low whistle and handed me a glass. “Welcome home.”

“Good to be back.”

We toasted as the car pulled into Manhattan traffic. I’d been home from England for a few days but this was our first night out together. I’d thrown myself into working to keep my mind off what happened with Xavier. I felt tremendous guilt for treating him like shit.

My anxiety hasn’t reared its ugly head like that in years. I should reach out to him.

But every time I wanted to text him, I chickened out. What could I possibly say? I called him a casual fling and kicked him out of my rental house. Not my best moment.

I drained the glass, swallowing any and all emotions down with it. Tonight was for fun and shenanigans. I’ll try to keep the self-pity and wallowing to a minimum.

The upcoming week promised to be a busy one with the draft in town. Noah’s fundraiser wasn’t an official part of the festivities but it certainly helped set the tone. There were so many events to look forward to. It’s like Christmas for the football league. Aside from winning the championship, of course.

Camera crews lined the sidewalk outside the restaurant. They were cordoned off behind some barriers to give the players space as they arrived.

Killian whipped out his phone. “Selfie time, story time, live stream time.”

I laughed at my best friend’s ability to turn any situation into an opportunity to grow his audience. He pointed the phone at me as we entered the restaurant.

“I’m here with Manhattan socialite and media relations goddess, Victoria Chase, to unofficially kick off Draft Week,” he said in his best tabloid reporter voice. “Ms. Chase, how do you think the Legends will fair this year?”

I giggled, pulling Maxim into the frame with me. “I don’t know, Mr. Monroe, but this hot guy and I are looking forward to the open bar inside.”

Killian turned and held up his phone so we all fit in the screen. “Coming in hot,” he exclaimed.

I loved when Killian acted ridiculous like this. Sure, we probably weren’t acting our age but who cares. Nobody else’s opinion mattered. And to be honest, a little frivolity never hurt anyone.

“This restaurant is the shit,” Maxim declared.

“That’ll be a dollar,” Killian shouted with a laugh.

Maxim wasn’t wrong. This restaurant was a vibe. It looked and felt like we’d stepped out onto a rooftop deck. A very fancy one.

Since this building used to be an old warehouse, the sky-high ceilings gave off the impression we really were outside. The ceiling even had twinkling lights embedded in it to look like stars. A huge bar was located in the center with all the tables scattered around it. String lights crisscrossed above the bar out to several columns. Plush couches lined the walls for anyone who just wanted to sit and enjoy a few drinks or appetizers.

A good majority of our team and other players from around the league showed up for Noah’s event. He was not only highly respected by all his teammates and coaches, but by players from opposing teams as well. He held court near the bar, no doubt retelling the story of the Legends’ most recent championship victory to an enamored group of party-goers.

“Victoria. Nice to finally see you.”

I looked over to see Tre Gideon, our newest asset, approaching. The wide receiver made waves after leaving Denver to become a free agent. He was rather vocal on social media about where he wanted his landing spot to be.

Fortunately, the Legends were open for discussions. And here we are.

“How long has it been?” he asked, hugging me. “Last time you guys were in Denver, it wasn’t a pretty game.”

“Nope. Not for you it wasn’t.” I grinned, remembering the blowout loss we handed his team. “But now you’re with the good guys.”

“Or the evil empire, depending on who you ask.”

“Mind if I grab a photo of you two?” Scott, the team’s official photographer stopped in front of us and raised his camera.

“Not at all,” Tre replied. I sidled up next to him and smiled for the camera.

“Thanks. Enjoy the event.” Scott meandered off toward the bar.

“I might as well get one too. I need to freshen my feed anyway,” Killian smirked, whipping out his phone.

I shot Killian a look. “Sure. Tre, that’s Killian, my pain-in-the-ass best friend.”

Tre laughed and kept me snug against his side. “New York is the place to be seen,” he said. “I don’t mind a few photos. Especially with this stunning lady.” We smiled for him.

Tre reached out and shook Killian’s hand. “Nice meeting you.” A bright smile lit up his face when he turned to me. “Good seeing you again, Victoria. Catch you at the stadium soon.”

I watched him saunter over to Noah and some of the other guys from the offense. A sharp poke in my side jolted me.

“Ow. Killian what the fuck,” I yelped.

“You little minx.” His brows slashed down in accusation. “That’s the wide receiver, isn’t it?”

“The one we just signed? Yeah. No need to poke me over it.”

He grabbed my elbow and led me to one of the couches near the wall. “You are fully aware that’s not what I mean. He walked right out of the Victoria Chase Handbook for Men. Also, he looks a little too much like Maxim. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

I folded my arms and attempted to glare at him but my expression came off more as a confession than a scolding. “I don’t have the hots for Max. And I’m not his type, so you don’t have to worry.”

“But that guy is your type times infinity.”

“Okay, fine. Yes, that’s the wide receiver. Happy now?”

“I knew it.” The smug look on his face irked me. The last thing I needed or wanted was a lecture on my sex life. “Does anyone else know?”

“No. And I’d like to keep it that way so shut your face.”

“I just don’t want to see you go down the rabbit hole of—“

“It. Was. One. Time.” My voice rose in frustration. “Six months ago. This is the first time I’ve seen him since.”

Maxim curled his arms around me from behind. Great. A tag team.

“We just want what’s best for you. I consider you family, too.”

I sighed. “I know what you’re both doing and I love you to pieces but it’s not an issue. Really. If we’re laying all the cards on the table, he was the last person I was with before—“

I couldn’t bring myself to say his name. If I did, I’d break apart in front of all these people. What were they serving at the open bar anyway?

Killian touched my cheek. He looked at me softly, tilted his head and said in a gentle tone, “At least you can find comfort in B-O-B again.”

“You’re an ass,” I laughed.

“Wait,” Maxim let me go and looked at both of us. “Who’s Bob?”

His confusion only made me laugh harder. Killian laughed himself into a coughing fit. Poor Max sat down and waited for us to collect ourselves.

“It’s not a who . It’s a battery operated boyfriend. B-O-B,” I explained. “You know, a vibrator. ”

“You two should have your own YouTube channel,” Max chuckled, shaking his head. “Does this conclude the latest chapter of as the world spins through the days of my life ?”

“Yes,” Killian and I declared in unison.

We went back to the party and didn’t mention boyfriends, battery operated or otherwise, again.

This was exactly the night I needed. After a couple hours, word spread that some players and other party-goers planned to continue the festivities at The Estate, one of New York City’s most exclusive clubs.

Not one to turn down an invitation, I joined them without a second thought, along with Maxim and Killian.

If the amount of people lined up in front of the club was any indication, the crowd inside promised to be huge. We were all escorted to the second level.

The VIP area circled above the main floor and was already prepped for our arrival. Bottles topped every table and the private bar was open.

“Baby girl, we need to do this more often,” Killian exclaimed over the music. “I feel like I’m in my twenties again, only without all the self-loathing and insecurities.”

The three of us went over to the bar where Maxim promptly ordered a round of shots. Top shelf tequila shots, no less. And he ordered six of them.

The bartender lined the shots up in front of us, along with salt and limes. We all grabbed one.

Maxim lifted his glass and started the toast, “Here’s to you, here’s to me.”

“Best friends we’ll ever be,” Killian joined in.

“If we ever disagree, fuck you here’s to me,” I jumped in, ending with the two of them in unison.

The shots went down so easy. Too easy. I smiled, my brain becoming all fuzzy and relaxed. We sat with some of the crew from marketing and sales. Everyone was buzzing about the upcoming draft, but more importantly, all the parties. I planned to attend a couple of the events, just to do the rounds as per usual.

Hannah walked over looking stylish in her champagne-colored cocktail dress and sat down with us.

“My favorite media maven,” she exclaimed, hugging me. “Are you ready for this week?”

“I’m always ready,” I smiled.

“Let’s get a picture,” she said, pulling out her phone and snapping a selfie of us. “Bennet follows me now on social media and really enjoys when I post stuff like this. And you look so stunning. I’ll tell him to show Xavier.”

I have no idea how I kept a smile plastered to my face. Hannah kept babbling about Bennet and some phone call and a salacious late night video chat while she posted the photo. I grabbed whatever drink Killian had in his hand and finished it.

“Hey,” he frowned. “You owe me one.”

“They’re free,” I motioned to the bar.

Drinks flowed. Music blared. The floor vibrated from the bass, almost echoing my heartbeat. Lights spun around, flashing in various colors. We danced and laughed and drank and danced some more. Killian was right. It did feel like we were in our twenties again.

Hannah kept snapping photos. Killian kept recording videos. Max and I kept dancing until we were breathless and needed to sit.

A server appeared with another round of shots for all of us. Yes, yes, yes. The more the merrier.

“These are courtesy of your quarterback.”

We all craned our necks to find Noah Tate. He was over by the railing dancing with his girlfriend.

“Noah,” we shouted, raising our glasses. “Stay Legendary.”

With an answering yell, he came over and squeezed his six-foot-six frame in on the couch next to me. My phone was laying on the table, so I asked the server to grab it for a photo. We all smushed together as close as we could. The server kept waving her hands together for everyone to get even closer.

“Victoria,” Noah said loudly in my ear. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but sit in my lap so the big guys can squeeze in. Tracey won’t mind.”

I hopped in his lap giving a thumbs up to his girlfriend. She returned the thumbs up and had her own phone out, documenting what was now becoming a team photo. So was Killian. I’d bet all of Noah’s championship rings Killian was live streaming this moment.

Hannah ended up sitting in a lap as well. So did anyone who wasn’t a linebacker, running back, wide receiver, safety, or tight end. The camaraderie in this organization ran so much deeper than just the fifty-three guys on the field. I loved working with this team. With these amazing humans.

“It’s two in the morning. Do you know where your morals are?” Some drunk guy shouted to nobody in particular from the sunroof of his limo.

“I’ll ask your dad when I see him in a few,” Killian shouted back.

“And you say I’m the bad influence,” I laughed, wobbling a bit in my heels.

We were on the hunt for some street food. The greasier and saltier, the better. I can’t remember the last time I was out this late drinking and partying and generally ignoring being an adult.

The vibrant sounds of New York City were just as lively in the middle of the night as they were during the day. I loved it.

“Pretzel or hot dog?” Maxim asked, standing by a street vendor.

“Both.” I replied.

“As you wish.”

Scarfing down this food was priority number one, then flopping into my bed. The boys ended up ordering hot dogs and pretzels as well. We walked together down the street for a bit, double fisting our post-party snacks. Maxim managed to find some empty cafe tables for us to sit.

I yelped when the cool metal chair hit my bare legs.

“Aw, poor thing’s cold,” Killian teased. “Wanna sit in my lap? Noah won’t mind.”

His frivolous question stole my breath. In a flash, I was transported back to the event in London when Xavier said similar words to me, wrapped in a much different intention. I bit into the hot dog, gathering my emotions. These last few hours may have been the longest I’d gone without thinking of him.

“Have you decided what you’re wearing to the Met Gala?” Maxim asked.

I shook my head. The gala was coming up quick and I really wanted to look amazing. I had a few options, I just needed to pick one.

“If it helps,” Killian spoke between mouthfuls, “Max and I are wearing all black tuxes.”

“So you’re saying I should wear an all black tux as well?”

“Do you have any idea how hot you’d look in one of those?” Killian clutched his chest. “I’m dead just thinking about it.”

I laughed, popping some pretzel in my mouth. “Come over tomorrow after I’m finished at the cemetery. I’ll show you what I have in mind.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to go with you?”

I shivered slightly in the cool breeze. “I’m sure. Thank you anyway.”

“It’s freezing.” Max complained. “Ready to call it a night?”

We all finished our snacks and walked to the waiting limo. When we arrived at my building, both of them hugged me so hard I thought I might break. I waved goodbye, went up to my condo and got ready for bed. In an effort to ward off a potential hangover, I downed a bottle of water and took a pain reliever. Sliding under the covers and snuggling into the pillows was the best feeling after a night like this.

I grabbed my phone to see the picture from the club. I have to say, I looked happy. Everyone did. I grinned, posting it with the caption When Legends gather, greatness follows .

Exhaustion swept over me, blurring my vision. I scrolled through the feed, liking pictures here and there.

Killian: Home safe. Night baby girl

I responded to Killian and meant to put the phone away.

But I didn’t.

I shouldn’t text Xavier but I wanted to. I’m too old for all this ridiculous angst. We’re both adults. I should start acting like one. I was a colossal asshole to him and I have to be the bigger person here. Whether he wanted to hear from me or not was another story.

I miss you, I’m sorry, I’m thinking of you …

Me: Sorry if I hurt you.