Chasing Heartbreak by Kat T. Masen
KATE
Four Years Ago
“Two words for you… honey daddy.”
Eric adjusted the lapels on his overly priced designer shirt, checked his reflection against the glass door, and complained about his hair, again. Distracted by his incessant rambling on styling products and a loose strand of hair refusing to cooperate, I took the opportunity to check my appearance.
Unlike Eric, my hair was correctly styled into a tight bun toward the back of my head, not a single strand out of place. The simple hairstyle suits this type of soirée—formal, with an elite guest list in a very fancy house.
And I’d only seen the front entrance.
Somehow, Eric persuaded me to attend his mother’s sixtieth birthday party. It was being held at their newly purchased East Hamptons estate. According to Eric, the house was a birthday present from dear old daddy for never being home and always traveling abroad.
Some birthday present!
And, of course, the invitation came at the last minute. Eric was supposed to bring his colleague, Emma, but she had some sort of personal emergency. Eric narrowed it down to being knee-deep in Italian dick, or Aunt Flow is paying a visit. Knowing I was his backup, I didn’t give in so quickly, making him practically beg for me to attend. In exchange for my presence, he promised to take me to this new restaurant I had been dying to try, but because of some waitlist, I could never get a table. He had connections, and I took advantage of those connections to finally taste the famous crème brûleé the chef is known for.
“Honey daddy?” I question while grimacing. “You mean sugar daddy?”
“Sweetheart…” Eric purrs in his over-the-top fake British accent, “… you need a man of age. Someone of maturity. Honey is sweeter than sugar.”
I don’t question Eric any further after he lost me at man of age. Most of the time, I let him do his thing while I blatantly ignore his quest to find me a man. Sometimes, it’s just easier to nod my head and sidetrack him with pointless gossip.
I’d been attending quite a number of these upscale events in the city, so I had the perfect dress to wear—a black off-the-shoulder maxi dress with a high slit stopping mid-thigh. The dress was gorgeous and was an impromptu purchase last fall when Charlie visited Manhattan, warranting a much-needed girls’ shopping trip and dent to my credit card.
Of late, I’d worn it to three separate events. My rule is if the guest list differs, a green light to recycle the wardrobe. Eric hated this rule, which is why I lied and told him it was brand new on the ride over here.
We stood in front of the large doors as the butler answered formally. The home’s sheer size was breathtaking, and only a few minutes ago, I was wowed by the front iron gates. In Eric’s exact words, the home was sophisticated and a meticulously crafted estate sitting only minutes away from the harbor. I swore he pulled those words from an architectural digest of some sort. His usual responses were, ‘this is a palace fit for a queen like myself,’ or in some cases, ‘what a shithole, I wouldn’t send my ex here, and that’s saying a lot since he’s pure trash.’
Once we had passed the gated entry and elegantly landscaped grounds, I knew Eric wasn’t joking when he said the house was enormous. He’d only been here once since his father purchased it. Yet he made it quite clear he planned to spend his summer vacation lounging by the pool while being served by a butler and eyeing the pool boy who happened to be a confused straight guy fresh out of college.
We took a step into the open foyer, and my eyes immediately gazed up toward the high ceilings and intricate detail. In proper Hamptons design, each room boasted high ceilings, massive windows, custom cabinetry, and bespoke leather accents. I loved architecture and design, wishing I’d studied it in school since it’s my passion.
“This house is... wow, that fireplace is stunning,” I raved, taking small steps while admiring the décor.
“I know, right?” Eric smiled politely at guests who walked past and kept his arm linked with mine. “My mother has exquisite taste.”
“Yeah, and Daddy has a nice checking account.”
Eric snickered as we continued to walk through the wide hallway toward the back French doors. Everywhere I turned, my eyes admired the detailed pieces from the chandeliers to the sconces. We strolled past the open-plan kitchen with marble countertops, so grand in its presence and equipped with every appliance a chef would need.
We stopped at the doors which were open to the enormous yard. Directly in front of us was an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and although Charlie and Lex’s place had quite a large pool, this one was even grander. For someone who grew up in England, pools always fascinated me.
With dusk setting in, the lights were turned on and illuminated the crystal-clear blue water, making the pool mesmerizing with its calming nature.
The trees surrounding us were dressed in fairy lights, brightening the outdoor area and giving it a whimsical feel. Toward the right, across a sizable makeshift dance floor, a small band was playing 1950’s music, which, according to Eric, is his mother’s favorite era.
“Eric, darling, you came.”
A woman, assuming it was his mother judging by the similar facial features, was dressed in a beautiful blush couture gown with a diamond necklace draped around her neck. When I first met him, Eric told me that his mother was of Chinese descent and his father was a full-blooded white American. Together, it caused many issues earlier on in their relationship, but they managed to remain married for over forty years. On closer inspection, I could see where Eric got all his features from.
She kissed both of Eric’s cheeks while holding his hands. With a warm smile, she let go to fix his hair just the way he liked it.
“Mom, this is Kate,” Eric introduced me. “Kate, my mother, Vivian.”
I leaned in to kiss both her cheeks, wishing her a happy birthday at the same time. The scent of Chanel No. 5 lingered in the air between us.
“You’re just as gorgeous as my baby described you,” she said with a gracious tone. “And your accent is just darling.”
“I know, right? I told you, Mom. I should try to find myself a British gay man.”
“Oh, Eric.” She patted him gently on the chest. “Tristan will be back. You’ve got to give monogamy a try.”
I pursed my lips and kept my smile fixed. When it came to matters of the heart, Eric refused to settle down, thinking these years were made for partying and bed-hopping. Though, somehow, he’d fallen in love yet refused to acknowledge said fact.
Basically, he’s a royal pain in the ass and such a high-maintenance friend.
“I must say hello to your uncle and aunt from Boston.” She cupped his chin with pleading eyes. “Please try to talk more than two words with your brother, okay?”
Eric nodded, and the second she was a fair distance away from us, he mumbled something about geeks and small dicks.
“Your mother is beautiful and so refined…” I trailed off while watching Vivian greet her guests. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Hey, I resent your judgment!”
Eric quickly switched his grumpy face to desperation as he caught a waiter serving shrimp, having complained the entire ride over here of being in starvation central. After a trying day at work with a deal that almost fell through, I was happy to drown myself in champagne and pass on the questionable sea-life with its disgusting tail limp on the silver platter. Aside from my mother’s homemade fish recipe back home, I wasn’t a seafood person.
“Okay, so here’s the lowdown on the guests.” Eric pulled me aside as if he would reveal some sort of government-kept secret and discreetly pointed to the man a few feet from us. “Ivan owns three properties in The Hamptons plus this gorgeous place in Martha’s Vineyard. He runs his own wine emporium and exports to Southeast Asia or something like that.”
“The man with the cravat?” I asked, watching him hold a pipe.
“Yes, the man with the cravat.” Eric shuddered, his distaste for cravats needed a whole other discussion. “He’s onto wife number three. Not too bad considering he looks like he belongs in a nursing home.”
“Lovely,” was all I answered.
“Word around Mom’s tennis club is that wife number three is tapping her tennis instructor. I could get you in.”
“Um, get me in where?”
“In,” Eric repeated, eyes wide, making some weird gesture with his hands. “In his bed and bank account.”
Cocking my head, I shook it with annoyance. “I don’t need a man, let alone one who could pass as my great-grandfather.”
“Okay, fine,” Eric sniped. “The guy over there in the burgundy suit…”
“You mean the velvet burgundy suit?” I pointed out, knowing just how much Eric hated velvet.
“Never mind the wardrobe. Thiago is second in line to his grandfather’s estate, which happens to be the most expensive piece of real estate in the Bahamas. Plus, he designs handbags for a living.”
“He designs handbags?” I questioned and grabbed another champagne from the waiter who passed us by. “I think that’s more up your alley. And besides, second in line isn’t exactly first in line.”
I don’t even know why I entertained this conversation. Firstly, I didn’t need a man, and even if I did, I could find one myself. Secondly, Eric was the worst at trying to set people up. His idea of date-worthy wasn’t exactly the same as mine.
“And wait,” I add, feeding my curiosity. “How do you know all this?”
Eric shuffled his feet and lowered his head as if caught in a naughty act while hovering behind me in an odd way. “Um, no reason… through the street.”
“Does the street mean you screwed him, which is why you’re trying to stand behind me?”
“Fine.” Eric stomped his foot and crossed his arms. “We had a moment inside a closet at a party a few years back.”
“You had a moment?” I scoff as I took a sip of my champagne. “What does that even mean?”
“It means I jerked him off because he was too big to take all in.”
The bubbles got caught in my throat, and a coughing fit followed as I tried to gulp for air. Just when I thought I was about to die, I managed to compose myself and control my breathing.
“Would you keep it down?” Eric hushed me and kept his gaze lowered. “He’ll see us standing here.”
“But I’m so confused.” My voice came out uneven and breathless, forcing me to drink again to clear it. “You always talk about the bigger the dick, the better.”
“Honey, we’re not talking just big,” Eric asserted and raised his hand toward his chest. “We’re talking thick big.”
“Thick big?”
Eric widened his hands, my mouth opened in shock. Indeed, he exaggerated. No one was that thick, and Eric was known to embellish girth on more than one occasion.
“All right, we’re done with this conversation,” I told him as I scanned the area around us in an effort to talk about something else.
Close to Vivian, I saw a man standing beside her. I was drawn to his tall stature, the way he towered over her yet still gazed at her in a loving way. His dashing black tuxedo with his black-rimmed reading glasses made him look like an incredibly sexy Clark Kent, especially with the way his jet-black hair was perfectly styled to the side.
“And that guy over there?” I nodded in his direction.
Eric exhaled while he rolled his eyes of boredom. “That’s my brother, Dominic. I’m surprised he knows how to pull a tux off. Don’t even bother saying hello. You might as well talk to a brick wall.”
Well, if truth be told, the brick wall was beautiful. Dominic looked nothing like Eric—much taller with lighter skin and features. From where I was standing, his hair looked like the only similar thing to Eric—jet-black and straight. Aside from that, you wouldn’t pick them as siblings.
“Oh, listen.” Eric’s mood shifted, and his tone picked up with excitement. “Mom is talking to that lady from the Real Housewives, you know, the bitchy one, but she’s Celine Dion’s second cousin. Or something like that.”
“Eric, you know I don’t watch television, let alone reality TV.”
“Right, right,” he mumbled, distracted. “I’ll be back.”
When Eric says he’ll be back, I’m pretty much guaranteed to be alone for most of the night. Why I agreed to this again is beyond me. You have no life outside of work, that’s why.
With my champagne in hand, the last remnants went down too quickly while I stood on the patio and watched the night sky. There was a peacefulness to being out of the city, away from the hustle and bustle, and able to clearly see each star. It reminded me of back home, bringing on nostalgia and memories of what felt like a lifetime ago.
The area around me began to get crowded and prompted me to find a quieter place. I took a walk in the gardens with great difficulty as my heels dug into the perfect lawn and away from the noise to enjoy the peace and quiet. The sky was even more visible away from the party, every star shined brightly above me with a glimpse of one shooting in the distance. The proximity of the sea provided a fresh breeze, cooling down the warm summer night.
“Care for a top-up?”
The voice startled me. Clutching my chest, I turned to find Dominic standing beside me, carrying his own bottle of liquor. I’d considered myself a reasonably tall woman if compared to Charlie or Adriana, but Dominic towered over me, much like Lex.
“Why, thank you.” I smiled politely and ignored Eric’s words and noticed the label on the bottle—Dom Perignon.
“Dominic Kennedy.”
“Kate Hamilton,” I followed and extended my hand to shake his. “Yes, your brother has um…”
“Warned you to stay away?” He snickered with a disturbing laugh. “Referred to me as weird geek with no personality? Actually, to be precise, a brick wall would be more fitting.”
“Eric wouldn’t say that,” I lied.
“You’re not the best of liars.”
“I’m not lying.” I almost busted out laughing at this incredibly gorgeous stranger and hid my smile behind my glass. “Perhaps an extension of the truth is more on point. Besides, Eric is complicated.”
Isn’t that the goddamn truth?
“He dragged you to this?”
“He didn’t have to twist my arm or anything. It’s not like I was busy.” I cover my mouth again as a slight cough escapes me. Telling Dominic I wasn’t busy is the same as telling him I’m single, wide open for anything, literally. “It’s all work and no play these days.”
Dominic pursed his lips with a slight nod. He motioned to me to follow him to a secluded part of the garden with beautiful trees surrounding us and an old oak chair.
“Sit, please.” He gestured.
I took a seat, pushing the bottom of my dress aside to avoid it getting caught in my heels. As I sat beside him, the smell of his cologne was intoxicating—masculine with a hint of dominance—or maybe it was forever since I smelled a man so good, and even longer since I last slept with anyone. My mind did a mental calculation, but the numbers went too far back that I can’t even compute. No wonder Eric and Charlie were always trying to set me up on dates. My personal life was beyond tragic.
Silence crept up between us, and only the rustle of the trees could be heard. The only thing we had in common to discuss was Eric.
“So, I can only imagine growing up with Eric would’ve been fun.”
“Not really.”
“He’s complicated.” I carried on to keep the conversation flowing. “But I have to hand it to him, he knows how to have fun.”
Dominic forced a smile, not looking impressed with the conversation swaying toward his brother. Okay, this was getting worse. I need to try a different angle.
“What do you do for a living?”
“A bit of this and that,” he responded flatly.
“Right…” I’m tapped out. It was like pulling teeth out. How could a man so incredibly sexy be so dull? A moment ago, we had light-hearted banter, and now it’s crickets. Eric may not have been so wrong in his brick-wall analogy.
I raised my glass toward my lips and downed the champagne in one go. I thought of a reason to excuse myself, and the best I could come up with was to use the bathroom, which wasn’t far from the truth.
“Listen, Dominic, I, uh…”
“You’re beautiful,” he confessed as he poured more champagne into my glass, which caught me by surprise. “I’ve heard Eric speak about you to my mother. You’re the CEO of the Lexed office in Manhattan.”
“And London,” I mumbled in an uncertain tone. “And, um, thanks for the compliment?”
Dominic laughed, the lines around his eyes creased slightly. “Too left field?”
“Left field, or maybe just wasn’t expecting it. It’s been a while, hearing a compliment like that. So, thank you.”
“You’re telling me you don’t hear such compliments daily?”
“Well, not really. I spend most of my days in the office or with clients. It would be highly inappropriate to be complimented in such a way and would have a serious breach of workplace protocol. Like I said earlier, all work and no play.”
“All work, no play,” he repeated in a low voice. “Interesting.”
“How so?” I asked, curious about his sudden interest in my personal life. “Let’s be honest, Dominic, we’re both adults. Working long hours then crawling back to my apartment at some godawful hour means I have no personal life. I’m not a dating person, although Eric will argue that in a heartbeat. And so, with that said, work has become my life. I don’t have time for relationships unless a man understood my lifestyle, and so far, that’s come up empty.”
I’d laid all the cards on the table, unsure why I’d gone this far. I blamed the champagne plus my empty stomach and the combination of both of those mixed together. Add in a handsome man beside me and a raging libido, and that right there was your answer.
“What if you could have both?” he questioned with a serious tone.
“Both what?”
“Your passion, your work, and have your personal needs fulfilled?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Then, I’d say it’s my lucky day.”
Dominic didn’t say another word. Placing his hand in his pocket, he removed a business card, handing it to me. “Call me sometime.”
Standing up, he poured the remains into my glass with a playing smirk. For a brief moment, he lingered but then walked away like a thief in the night.
Call me? Is that it?
What the hell was that?
I gave myself time to process our encounter. Undoubtedly, he could’ve stayed around and conversed rather than handing me a business card, mainly after I rambled on about my personal life. Then, he questioned me about all my needs being fulfilled. It’s bizarre, or maybe, I was boring, and it was his way out, thinking I wouldn’t have the courage to call him.
Ten minutes later, and with an empty glass, I made my way back to the party with an over-dramatic Eric raising his hands when he sees me.
“There you are!” He sounded panicked, the high-pitched tone hurting my eardrum. “Jesus Christ, Kate, I was this close to unraveling a cravat in the pool house. Where were you?”
“Just, um…” I decided to keep my chat with Dominic to myself as it would only bore Eric, anyway. “Just walking around the grounds and admiring the property.”
“Okay, way to get laid tonight,” he dragged, distracted by a large birthday cake being presented to his mother. “I’ll be back.”
The band began to play a sweet version of Happy Birthday as the crowd sang. Eric’s father stood beside Vivian, and standing on the other side were Dominic and Eric. Between them, I could see the strong gene pool with Dominic looking more like his father.
Vivian blew out the candles as we all cheered, then kissed Eric on the cheek and then Dominic. She kissed her husband with a loving smile before he turned to the mic and said a few words.
His speech was delivered with admiration and love toward his wife, and a few humorous anecdotes prompted their guests to laugh. I found myself listening attentively, but somewhere during a mention of his sons, my eyes shifted toward Dominic.
He was staring directly at me, a piercing gaze caught me by surprise and left me breathless. My rational thoughts told me to look away, yet I couldn’t seem to shift my gaze, almost as if a magnetic force pulled me.
Taking a deep breath, I thought of ways to ignore Dominic. After this party was over, I no longer needed to torture myself in his presence. Nothing good would come of it, anyway. He’s Eric’s brother, and no matter how handsome he may be, I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with Eric.
Inside my purse, I pulled out his card and re-read it.
I placed it back in my clutch as if it would magically disappear, ignoring the sensation building inside of me. You imagined all of this, conjured up wild thoughts because you lacked intimacy with a man, especially one so sexy.
I could resist his charm.
And resist the temptation to call him.
But for how long, I had no idea.