My Five Night Fling by Maci Dillon

 

 

KASSIDY

 

Time passes quickly when you’re having fun.

As we clock some decent mileage on foot, my butt muscles scream at me, and the arches of my feet strain to break free from my heeled boots.

After hours of wandering around the markets buying keepsakes and small gifts for Mom, Chloe, Raven, and Miah, we visit a quaint vintage store in Piccadilly Sophia raves about.

Shopping with Sophia is a blast. We both gravitate toward the same things—fashion, jewelry, and décor. I’d given myself this day to lash out on some British fashion to take home.

“Are you limping?” Sophia questions on our way to our next stop, her preferred designer boutique for affordable and chic indie fashion pieces.

“Not intentionally. Apparently, I have muscles in places I’m not aware of. Your brother and I danced up a storm last night.”

I fight to hold off a smile at the memories of the night before. I’m certain not all the muscle aches are from the dance floor.

She eyes me suspiciously as if reading my dirty mind. I ignore the question in her eyes and focus on rectifying my stride. So far, the morning has been a no-Jarett zone, which I appreciate. I sense she wants to ask for details but for whatever reason, hasn’t mentioned him.

The past few days and nights have been one hundred percent Jarett-focused, and as fun as it has been, a day without him is good for the soul.

“Let’s stop in here for a late lunch.” Sophia pauses out front of a hip café with a few spare tables on the sidewalk. The weather is wonderful today—a chill in the air subdued by the sun’s warmth sneaking through the soft cloud coverage.

“No need to twist my arm.” My feet are begging me to stop.

Once seated, we order our meals, and Sophia finally gives in to resisting the no-Jarett zone. 

“So, tell me more about this dancing you and my brother were doing last night,” she probes. Her smile is contagious, and I chuckle when she wiggles her eyebrows over her sunglasses.

“Sophia…” I fake gasp and glance around as if I have something to hide. I lean across the table toward her, requesting her full attention. She mirrors my body language and waits on bated breath. “I’m a lady. I never kiss and tell.” I push away from the table laughing quietly as her face falls in disappointment.

Cocktails at any time of day, the best thing about vacationing in different cities. The waiter, a hottie if you like the young babyface type, all but drools over Sophia. She shows no interest or even acknowledges his advances in any way.

“Why are you still single?” I ask her directly.

Catching her off guard, she partially chokes on the first sip of her Bloody Mary. “I’m content being single. I am more focused on my career right now, but don’t you worry about me, I get all the action between the sheets a good girl like me can want.” She winks.

“Do you ever hook up with your clients?”

It’s a fair question. At least I thought it was until she squeals, “Kassidy! I would never.”

Sophia is an entrepreneur running Europe’s largest dating agency. The potential hookups must be endless. Why would she not?

“Really? Never?”

Sophia sighs. “Not never, per se. Occasionally, perhaps. When I have an itch, you know how it is.”

I laugh loudly. She cracks me up. “Yeah, I know the itch all too well.”

“So seriously, then…” she continues, “… what have you done to my brother?” Her tone turns serious, and I gulp loudly as I swallow.

“You mean your grown-ass brother who has taken it upon himself to show me around London and turn my few days of rest and relaxation into a fun-filled adventure holiday in one of the greatest cities I’ve ever visited?”

She shrugs. “Whichever way you look at it… he’s completely besotted with you.”

I deflect her comment with valor, waving my hand dismissively. “A chance meeting in a café and an opportunity to entertain an Aussie chick for a few days, no strings attached?” I take another mouthful of my spritzer and secretly hope the waiter will be out with our food in record time.

Now she’s shaking her head at me, silently laughing. Her chest and shoulders bounce as if she’s chuckling, but not a single murmur escapes her.

So, I continue, “Not besotted. A man who oozes charm, a typical ladies’ man open to a quick fling.” Sophia is quick to jump on me for my observation.

Removing her sunglasses and tucking them into her bag, she reclines into her chair. Crossing her legs and placing both hands, linked together, over her knee, her head drops to the side as she inspects me.

Her stare invades me at a soul level. No exaggeration. The way she glares at me makes my skin prickle and my insides ice over.

Oops!

I’ve offended her.

Not my intention at all.

I raise my palm to silence her before she lets it rip. “No disrespect, Sophia. Jarett is a wonderful guy, and I’ve loved every minute of our time together. Immensely. But it’s all about the fun for both of us. No strings.”

Our plates of food are served, and we both remain in a Mexican stand-off.

Her foot begins to bob. a nervous trait or one of annoyance, I’m unsure, but I’d bet my return ticket on the latter. “Here’s the thing, Kassidy. I like you. And I love my brother more than anyone or anything. But this…” she waves her hand at me, “… whatever it is between you two, is nothing like the Jarett I know.”

Officially confused, I frown and lean on the edge of the table, my chin resting on my fists. “I’m sorry, Sophia, I’m not sure—”

Interrupting me, Sophia goes for it. “Jarett has never been a ladies’ man, as you put it. Charming as hell, yes. But he doesn’t play the field or welcome opportunities to entertain strangers in the bedroom or otherwise.”

“Sophia, I’ve hit a nerve I never intended to.” I push my plate to the side and collect my bags, ready to call it a day. My head is spinning. I’m hurt and deflated that this discussion has turned sour.

She lunges forward and places a hand on mine. “Please, don’t leave.” Her head falls forward, and her eyes slip shut for a few seconds as she inhales deeply. When her eyes meet mine again, they’re filled with sadness.

My stomach drops.

I’ve upset her.

“I’m sorry, Kassidy. My protectiveness of Jarett is often all-consuming and completely displaced. I get it.” She lets go of me, and I return my bags to the bench beside me. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable. You’re brilliant. Honestly.” She shakes her index finger between us. “In the short amount of time I have spent with you, it’s like we’re sisters from another mother. We have so much in common. I’m the British version of your Aussie one. You get me.” She laughs, and I can’t resist the genuine grin which spreads across my face because I feel the same way.

“I’m not taking advantage of your brother, I promise… in or outside of the bedroom. It’s casual, yes, but I leave in a few days. He’s aware of this. And…” I take pause, “… it was you who invited me out my first night here.”

Sophia relents. Her shoulders relax, and she exhales dramatically. “You’re right, of course. I was so happy to witness Jarett interacting with a woman finally and, well... I figured it would be good for him. You know, after—”

“After?” I ask, following her lead and digging into my crispy fried chicken salad.

Curiosity grips me. Why is Jarett interacting with a woman so out of the ordinary?

Sophia analyzes me closely as I enjoy my food, not willing to continue the conversation at this point.

Finishing our food and moving onto our second cocktail each, I press Sophia for more information. The unsettled pocket in the pit of my stomach is causing discomfort. “While we’re being open and honest, please, tell me what’s on your mind.”

Sophia sighs heavily. “After Helena…” Helena? “… Jarett completely withdrew, and I worried for a while that he’d never move on. Watching him with you at Café Zest the other day, it’s the first time in a year I’ve truly recognized him.  You—” Sophia halts mid-sentence. “Shit, he hasn’t talked to you about Helena, has he?”

Nervously, I chew on the inside of my cheek, unsure I should hear this from anyone other than Jarett. If he’d wanted me to know, we’d have talked about it during our time together.

I shake my head, “No, he hasn’t.”

“Fuck. Me and my big mouth.”

“It’s fine. We aren’t exactly divulging personal information, being a fling and all.”

“Kassidy, you’ve brought him a sense of freedom to live, a desire to let go. And you two are so fucking natural together it’s as if fate brought you here, especially for him. And believe me, I don’t believe in soppy romance bullshit despite my career choice.”

I force out a dry chuckle, “Good, neither do I.”

Sophia checks the time on her phone. “We should get moving, but listen, I worry when your time ends here, saying goodbye to you is going to reopen wounds for Jarett. The last time he waved goodbye to someone, it was his wife.”

Wife.

Slowly the words sink in.

Jarett is married.

“Jarett is, umm… he’s married?” I blurt out.

Sorrow-filled eyes meet mine.

“She never made it home, Kassidy.”

I swallow hard, trying to keep my lunch from resurfacing.

“Jarett waved goodbye to her as she boarded a plane to New York for a modeling gig. On her way to the job, she was involved in a major traffic incident.” As she speaks, her voice waivers.

My heart breaks for Jarett and all he has been through. Suddenly, the next few days take on a different shape in my mind.

“How tragic, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

As we make our way from the café, Sophia puts her arm around my waist as we walk. “Nothing, sweety, there’s nothing to say. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything about Helena. I wasn’t thinking. I assumed it would’ve come up between you two at some point. Please do me a favor and don’t mention I said anything.”

My mood deteriorates rapidly. “Of course.”

As the day wears on, we put our earlier discussions behind us, but I can’t shake the feeling. Will I be able to look at him the same way and not convey the sadness I feel for him? Ignore knowing his deepest, darkest pain.

As we say goodbye at the subway, each to go our separate ways after a great day out, my phone rings.

The screen lights up.

Jarett.

I silence the call as Sophia hugs me tight. “Please don’t brush him off. Despite what you feel or say you do, Jarett would never have bought you lunch if he didn’t sense some form of connection with you. Most people live a lifetime without experiencing that.”

She lets me go with a solemn smile and walks away.

My heart squeezes, wondering if I’ll ever meet with my British twin again. Part of me will miss her as much as Jarett when I leave.

Again, my phone buzzes, but I let it go to voicemail.