I wasn’t usually the type of person to admit I made a mistake. And maybe Ozzy was right, maybe I did have an underlying fear of rejection—that’s probably what kept me from trying stand-up for a career in the first place. What if people booed me off the stage? I wasn’t sure why I’d been so stubborn where Ella was concerned, but I did know I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind since the moment I saw her. I never believed in love at first sight—and “love” was a strong word for someone I just met a few weeks ago. But lust at first sight did seem to be an actual disease—and boy, was I suffering.
I really wanted to get to the bottom of this friend of Ella’s and why she’d pegged me as an asshole. While I supposed it was true that I might have unintentionally hurt someone’s feelings, I definitely couldn’t pin down any times that I was a deliberate asshole to a woman I’d dated.
After plying myself with a big, thick, greasy burger from the sandwich shop down the street from our building, I marched myself toward 2 Liberty Place, turning the corner to where the bank entrance faced the opposite street as our condos. All sorts of crazy thoughts were swirling in my head from “What if she won’t talk to me?” to “What if she’s not even working today?” Still, I pressed on. Now that I’d made my mind up, nothing was going to stop me.
I took a deep breath and tried to prevent that burger from making a sudden reappearance as I spun through the revolving door and landed in the posh marble lobby of the bank. The door greeter smiled and asked if she could help me. “I just need to speak to a teller,” I answered with a charming grin.
She gestured toward the long wooden counter where four tellers stood at their stations. Sure enough, Ella was at the second station, her normal place, helping a short, bald gentleman with glasses and wearing a suit. I paced through the velvet ropes, waiting for my turn.
“May I help you, sir?” asked the gray-haired teller next to Ella who was always friendly toward me.
I pointed to Ella and smiled, and the teller, whose metal nameplate read “Wanda Larson,” nodded and grinned in approval.
As soon as the bald gentleman stepped away from Ella’s station, I stepped up. I timed it to be just before closing, hoping I could entice her to have a drink or coffee with me before she went home. Ella was still finishing up the transaction and organizing paperwork and receipts as I stood there and soaked up her golden goddess beauty. Her peach-colored cheeks were glowing, and though I couldn’t see her piercing hazel irises, her long, dark lashes curled off her shimmering eyelids. She was just so stunning. And she seemed to have absolutely no clue what kind of effect she had on me.
When she looked up, there I was, staring up at her. “Hi, Ella.”
My heart began to pound in my chest as I waited for her reaction. I knew whatever expression appeared on the canvas of her face would determine my fate, and I’d know before she even opened her mouth what the outcome of this venture would be.
“I’m sorry, may I help you?” Her tone was polite and professional. So was her smile.
Wow, okay. My heart sank to the bottom of my chest like a rock in a pond. “I wanted to talk to you, Ella.”
No pretense this time. No ruse about my nephew. No Crown Royal bag of coins.
It was just me: Ace Bennett. Take me or leave me.
I could tell, though she was struggling to disguise it, that she was conflicted. A million emotions flashed through those hazel orbs, and I desperately tried to snatch just one long enough to read it.
“Ella, please? Can we grab a coffee or something? You’re off in a few minutes, right?”
Her lips pursed as a puff of air steamed out of her nostrils. “Fine. Meet me outside in five minutes.”
That was it. That was all she said.
I’d take it.
Her arms crossed over her chest as soon as she hit the open air, and I didn’t think it was because of chilly temperatures. It was at least seventy degrees outside, the warm May sunshine penetrating the city and bringing it to life after a long, cold winter. No, her body language spoke to her frustration. With me.
But at least she was here. And would listen to me. I hoped.
“I don’t understand what happened with us,” I started.
Her eyes caught the sunlight, revealing golden flecks that swirled as her pupils dilated and contracted with each blink. “Nothing happened with us.”
That was a stab to the heart. “How can you say that?”
“Are you talking about the night we fucked?” she asked loud enough to turn the heads of at least a few passersby, but this was Philly. If you know anything about our professional sports teams, you know we’re accustomed to foul language.
“I’d really prefer someplace a little quieter to talk.” I pushed the words out between my teeth, my mouth frozen in a conciliatory smile.
“If you want to talk to me, then we’re doing it here,” she said, “where there are plenty of witnesses.”
Ugh. What did I do to deserve this? She’s the one who wanted to use me to get revenge for whatever she thought I did to her friend. Her plan for retribution was probably just as cruel and nasty as whatever I supposedly did!
I decided to cut right to the chase. “Why did you tell the guys I was an asshole to your friend, and you were only going to hang out with me so you could later pretend you’d never met me?”
“Because you were an asshole to my friend and deserve to be treated the same way you treated her?” Ella fired back, her tone dripping with snark and her hands sliding from a crossed-over-her-chest position to her hips.
I shook my head. What the hell is she talking about? “I have no idea what might have happened. It has to be some sort of misunderstanding.”
“Cara O’Donnell?” she pressed, tilting her head to stare at me as if I was a complete moron. “Ring any bells?”
I stared at her, blinking as I ran that name through the database in my head. “Cara O’Donnell.” Oh, right. “The director at the Philly Youth Foundation?”
She rolled her eyes and nodded simultaneously. “That’s the one.”
“I don’t understand. I didn’t forget her—”
“You apparently did it twice! The second time after making out with her…”
“Twice?” I was about to get a headache from how hard my brows were furrowing. “I only met Cara once—at a party, and she was rather tipsy. She kissed me. And I didn’t want to take advantage of her, so I made sure her friends kept an eye on her and would make sure she got home okay.”
The scowl on her face faded, and she was left with a bewildered expression. “You only met once? You didn’t meet her, get her number, and then forget meeting her a few weeks later?”
That’s when it hit me. Cara was drunk and had mistaken me for someone else. “She called me Sam at first…”
Ella scrunched up her nose. “What do you mean?”
“I think she thought I was someone else at first.” It was the only thing that made sense. “She was drunk, Ella. I promise. Whatever she told you is probably not the way it went down at all. I don’t think I even got her number! It was a big, sloppy, wet kiss—”
“She said it was the best kiss she’d ever gotten!”
“Well…” I shrugged. “I mean, I can’t deny I have pretty stellar kissing skills—”
She reached out and punched me in the arm. “Why do I not believe you?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” I really needed her to believe me. How could I prove it to her? Can’t she see I’m crazy about her? Would I be here standing in public on a busy street defending my honor if I wasn’t?
Ella huffed out, “Well, Cara is a professional. I can’t see her getting so drunk she mixes two guys up. Plus, she said your name, Ace Bennett. Not ‘Sam’ or whatever bullshit you’re trying to feed me. And number two, you lied about having a nephew! Your friends told me so!” She was back to righteous indignation. We’d come full circle.
What could I say to get myself out of this jam? “There must have been a misunderstanding where Cara is concerned. And as for the nephew—” I watched her expression, but it didn’t soften in the slightest. At this point, I could offer her nothing more than the absolute truth: “Ella, I just wanted an excuse to come talk to you.”
Her hands remained firmly planted on her hips. “So you could fuck me and then not call me either?”
“First off, you didn’t give me your number. You went to work that morning and didn’t say goodbye or leave a note. And from what you told my friends, you were using me to seek revenge on your friend’s behalf! I thought our night together was amazing, but when they told me what you said before my show, it didn’t sound like you wanted anything to do with me—”
“Well, maybe I don’t.” She huffed again, turned on her heel, and in only a few seconds, she was lost in the crowd bustling up and down the busy sidewalk.