4. Chloe

CHAPTER 4

CHLOE

I have a personal rule that when customers are flirting with me, I’ll return the favor if I think they’re hot, but I won’t let it go any further than that. It feels like a slippery kind of road that I don’t want to go down.

Especially with men. You give them an inch and they’ll try and take a mile.

And when you work in a bar, nothing is less comfortable than random men trying to get it on with you while you’re on shift. But when Paul asks me if I feel like going out for a drink with him, my mouth opens and says yes before my brain really has time to think.

Maybe it’s just the Bellamare thing, but he is the perfect vision of a Bellamari man. He has a well-groomed beard and short black hair that, I am sure, if it got a little bit longer, would have a curl to it. His eyes are dark and warm and inviting, his face round but without looking childish, and his skin glows with a summer tan, olive and brown so soft-looking that I almost want to lean over and touch him.

When he reaches out for his glass to take a drink, I can’t help but let my eyes linger on his long fingers, on the way his lips wrap around the straw.

I know what I like in a man, and Paul is hitting every target.

Not only does he look beyond gorgeous, but he seems like a nice guy as well. He’s funny. He’s charming. He’s got a great smile.

From the second he suggests the drink, I’m watching the clock, waiting for the minutes to tick by until we can go somewhere else, together. Finally, it hits nine and I scamper over to where he’s sitting at the bar. He hasn’t moved since he got here. He’s just sat there quietly, waiting for my shift to end.

“Hey,” I say, grinning as he grins at me. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a second.”

I run into the back, take off my apron and change out of my work shirt. I’m glad I’ve got a spare shirt in here. It’s not my cutest ever date outfit but it’s a fun blue blouse, perfect for this summer weather.

Trying not to seem too eager, I rush back out into the bar, my heart racing with nervousness as if he might have started chatting someone else up while I’ve been gone.

But he hasn’t.

He smiles when he sees me again.

“Hey,” I say as I step out from behind the bar.

“Hey,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.”

We step out onto the street into the hot, sticky New York air. It doesn’t seem to faze Paul at all, and I guess he’s probably used to hot summers as much as I am, coming from Bellamare. He clearly hasn’t spent much time in New York, though, because he keeps looking up at the sky in wonder, staring at all the buildings like they’re magical and new.

I lead him through the streets, winding our way through traffic and tourists as we get deeper into the city. He barely says a word, and I wonder if it’s occurred to him that he’s putting an insane amount of trust in me right now. I could be anyone, taking him anywhere.

In fact, I’m taking him to a nearby favorite bar, somewhere cozy and casual. A good place for a date.

“I suppose we could have just stayed at your bar,” Paul says as we get closer.

I shake my head. “I didn’t want to run into anyone I know.” He raises an eyebrow as if to say oh, I see; worried about people seeing you with a man, but says nothing.

It’s not that I think my colleagues would actually say anything. I don’t think they care that much. It’s more that I’ve been there for the last seven and a half hours and I want to go somewhere different and more exciting than work.

When we get to the bar, I hold the door open for him. It’s dim and subdued in here, the music not too loud, the waiters not too overbearing. I don’t feel like anything too intense right now, but the fries they do in here are great, and I’m hungry.

We get settled at a table and he stares at me evenly. “What?” I say.

“Nothing. I just can’t believe how lucky I am to be here.”

“Paul,” I scoff, staring down at the table, “I barely know you.”

“Then let me tell you a little more,” he says with that easy smile that drew me into this in the first place. “Did you know that Bellamare is the most beautiful country on earth?”

I bite my lip, trying to hold in a giggle. “I hoped it might be. Tell me everything about it. What’s your favorite part?”

He narrows his eyes, thinking. “It’s always gorgeous. But in the summer, when the sky is blue and the sun is bright, going for a walk around Lake Bella is more beautiful than any other place in the world. The trees are such a lush green, and the weather never lets you down. I always wanted to take the person I loved on a picnic there. I’m saving that for someone special.”

“Why did you come here?” I ask, then take a sip of my cocktail. I hope he doesn’t find it an insensitive question.

He winces, and I grimace, hoping I haven’t blown it completely. This is the hottest guy who’s shown any interest in me in years.

I can’t blow it on our first date.

First date? My own thoughts take me by surprise. First date implies that I’m hoping there’ll be more. Am I really so lonely that I would jump into bed with the first guy who smiles at me?

Whoa , I think. Jump into bed? Get ahold of yourself.

I know how to have fun but that seems unrestrained by anyone’s standards.

“A business trip,” he says. “I’ve been away from home for nearly a year now.”

“Wow. You must miss home.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. But I’ve been traveling the world. It’s good. It’s fun but… yeah, I guess I miss home.”

“I can’t imagine being away from my friends and family for a whole year. I would find that really hard.”

“I think I do,” he says quietly.

“We’ll both get there someday. To Bellamare, I mean.”

“How come you’ve never been?” he asks gently.

Now it’s my turn to shrug. “It’s expensive. Plane tickets cost a fortune — and that’s before you even think about hotels or places to eat or things to do. I could never afford it on my salary.”

A strange glint comes into his eyes, a sparkle like I’ve just told him something amazing, and I can’t help but frown in response. All I said is that I haven’t got enough money to travel. I guess it’s not something he would understand, if he’s a businessman who’s been traveling the world for the last year.

Clearly, money isn’t an issue for him.

“Do you have a savings account for it?” he asks, and I shrug again.

“Yeah, but life keeps getting in the way. One day, though. One day I will get there.”

“Well, if you ever do get there, I would love to show you around.”

“Whoa, tiger,” I say. “Why would I run away to a country with a guy I’ve only just met?”

“Who said anything about running away? I was just proposing a trip, but if you’re down for forever…” He flashes his best grin at me, and I let out a laugh.

“You think you’re so charming, don’t you?” I say, narrowing my eyes.

He smirks at me. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

“Confident, huh?”

“I know what I’m doing,” he says, raising both eyebrows

“Oh, yeah? You just think I’m going to fall for you like that, do you?”

“Well, we are already having a drink, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” I say firmly. “A drink. But I like to know people a little better before I fall in love with them.”

“So love is on the table, then?”

I scoff and try my best to look serious, but his dumb little grin undoes me and I can’t stop myself from smiling. “We’ll see how it goes.”

He stares at me again, then offers me his hand. “Hello. My name is Paul. I’m twenty-seven years old. I’m from Bellamare. I’ve got two brothers who are older than me and I love to travel. My favorite drink is a tequila shot. My favorite animal is bears.”

“Bears?” I splutter, taking his hand. Damn him! That is stupidly cute. “What kind of bears?”

“Brown bears,” he says without thinking. I had almost been expecting him not to have a real answer, so the fact that he does takes me by surprise.

“Okay… Why?”

“They’re just interesting. Like, did you know, they can run up to thirty miles per hour. And they love eating salmon.”

His whole face lights up as he talks, and it gives me a light, fuzzy feeling in my chest. I bet if I got him going, he could carry on for a while. And I have a feeling it would be cute to watch.

But I’m interested in digging more into his life. “Business, then, huh? What does your company do?”

His expression falls and I feel a little bit bad about ruining his fun. “It’s like wealth management, property investment, that kind of thing. We do accounting for rich people, basically.”

“Sounds interesting,” I say weakly.

Humming in vague agreement, he reaches out for his drink, his slender fingers wrapping around the glass. I swallow some more of my own drink as I try to distract myself from thinking about his fingers somewhere else.

As we’ve been talking, we’ve been leaning in closer and closer, our bodies moving like they’re magnetically drawn together.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he says. “I know it’s boring. But it lets me travel and meet people like you, so it’s worth it.”

I bite my lip again, unable to hold back the giggle. What is wrong with me? “I guess nobody dreams of being an accountant,” I say.

“I think my brother did,” says Paul thoughtfully, tapping his cheek. “Then again, Luca is really boring.”

I laugh aloud at that, deciding there’s no point in trying to hold myself back. I’m having a good time. Why should I pretend I’m not?

“All right — what about you?” he asks, and I take a deep breath. My life isn’t all that exciting, especially compared to his.

“Okay… My name is Chloe. I’m twenty-five. I work as a bartender because New York’s an expensive place to live and I need to pay my bills somehow. What I really want to do is be an artist, but there’s not much money in that. I don’t have a favorite animal, but my favorite color is red. And I haven’t had anyone come back to my place in years because I still live with my mother, and that’s not necessarily a hot look.”

“What’s the shame in that?” he says, genuinely meaning it. “I live with my parents.”

“You do?”

A faint blush rises on his cheeks like he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but then he nods. “Yeah, I do. I don’t think it’s weird at all. Sometimes you do what you’ve got to do.”

I have no reply for that, and I can’t help but notice that we’re so close together that it would be easy to lean over and kiss him right now.

Is that what I want? Is that what this burning inside my chest is?

“Tell me about your art,” he says, breaking the moment. “What do you like to do?”

“I paint,” I say with a smile, excited to talk about it — much like he was when talking about bears.

I hardly ever confess my passion to anyone. They either don’t care or act like it’s a cliché. And I can’t tell if Paul really does care or not, but it feels easy to tell him anyway. Something about the way he’s putting me at ease makes me want to spill my whole life to him.

“In an ideal world, I’d love to have a studio, maybe put up an exhibition of my work in a gallery one day. I really want to make something that connects to at least one person. If just one person really felt something as a result of my work, then it would be worth it to me.”

“Maybe one day you’ll show me,” he says, but this time he doesn’t grin. Instead, he keeps looking into my eyes, like he’s searching for an answer to a question I don’t understand.

It’s like he’s seeing straight into my soul.

And the worst part is, I think I like it.