THREE YEARS LATER
“Please put your seat backs in the upright position. We are now beginning our final descent into New York.”
I put my papers back in my briefcase and rub my eyes. It’s nearly midnight, and I’ve been reading small print legal memos since we took off from Los Angeles, but as I look out the window and see the lights of the city shining in the dark, I feel a surge of excitement.
New York City, baby!
I’ve been here a few times already for work, but it always gives me a thrill. Bright lights, big city. And this time, the stakes are higher than ever. I’ve been thrown in last-minute on a big case, one that could make my whole career as a lawyer.
“Are you here for business or pleasure?” The guy in the seat next to me gives me a flirty grin. He’s been trying to hit on me for the last five hours. He’s cute enough, and any other girl be giving the Mile High Club a test run, but he’s got one fatal flaw counting against him: a wedding ring.
Deal-breaker.
“Business.” I reply coolly, and plug in my headphones until we land and taxi to the gate. Then I grab my phone and scan through the dozens of panicked voice messages that have been piling up while I was in the air.
“Relax, everything’s going to be fine,” I tell my client as I head to baggage claim.
“But we weren’t scheduled for meetings until next month. What do you think it means?”
I can hear the worry in his voice, so I make my tone extra-soothing. “It means they’re scared. They know they don’t have a case. Seriously, relax, get some sleep. I’ll see you for the first deposition tomorrow.”
I hang up and grab my bags. I have no idea how long this work trip will take, so I packed pretty much everything. There’s nothing like a pair of three-inch heeled leather boots to make me feel invincible walking into a boardroom.
And I’m going to need all the good luck I can get. I’m only a third-year associate, I’m not supposed to be lead counsel on a case, but my dick of a boss just got himself thrown in jail. I’m the one who’s prepared most of the research, and developed a relationship with the client, so my firm put me on the first flight out.
Sink or swim. It’s my chance to prove I’ve got the goods to make partner, and I plan to blow them all out of the water.
I’m breezing through the Arrivals lounge when I see a sign with my name on it. A driver is waiting. “Courtesy of Miss Fawes,” he smiles, taking my overstuffed cases.
I call my best friend, Keely. She moved out here months ago, and she’s made this last-minute trip so much easier. “I can’t believe you sent a car for me! Thank you so much,” I say, grateful to be waltzing past the fifty-deep taxi line. “I’m exhausted.”
“I figured you would be,” Keely laughs. “I’m just excited I get to see you again. Still good for brunch tomorrow?”
“Absolutely! I have time before my meeting. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Everything’s ready at the apartment, just go on up,” she adds, before saying goodbye.
I sink into the back seat of the car and thank the universe for awesome BFFs. Awesome BFFs who just happened to inherit a massive fortune, and have luxury penthouse apartments sitting empty waiting for someone to borrow.
My phone buzzes with new emails, so I scroll through before my brain shuts down for the night. There’s a couple from my old law school buddies, wanting to get together while I’m in town. They probably just want to boast about the size of their bonuses, but I tap out a quick reply saying I’ll meet them for drinks.
Law school... It’s only been three years, but it feels like a lifetime ago. Back then, I wore jeans to class and splurged on cheap takeout. Now, I’m on partner track at a big firm with an expense account and a taste for designer shoes. The day I got my first big bonus, I moved mom out of her crappy apartment complex and into a small bungalow in the good part of town. She’s got a yard now where she loves to garden, and my sister is doing great in college, thanks to the pricy SAT tutor I hired to get her there.
Things are good. Great, in fact. Everything is working out the way I dreamed -- and worked like hell to make happen.
I wonder how Ash is doing now...
I feel a familiar pang of rejection, but it’s softened over time. I haven’t seen or heard from him since that night we spent together. He never called from England, and after sending a couple of emails and getting radio silence, I gave up on the hope that I would see him again.
Sometimes I’ll remember the time we spent together; a joke, or conversation, and it hits me all over again. But that was years ago, and I’ve moved on. Only curiosity keeps me checking online from time to time, but I never find anything about him at all.
“We’re here.”
I look up. We’ve arrived outside a fancy building on the Upper East Side. The driver takes my bags, and the doorman greets me out front.
“Welcome, Miss Jenkins. Here are your keys and security card.” He passes them to me. “You also had a package delivered,” he adds. “I placed it on the table inside.”
“Thank you.” I head to the elevator. It’s gorgeous in here, all gleaming marble and fresh-cut flowers. Upstairs, the apartment is on its own floor, with an entrance hallway, and a huge open-plan living area. I tell the driver to leave the bags, and tip him generously on the way out.
Thank you, Keely.
I’m too tired to take it all in, but it’s bright and airy and impeccably decorated. There’s a small table by the door, and a package is waiting for me.
At first, I think it might be a delivery of more documents for the case, but when I look closer, I realize there’s nothing business-like about it.
The box is small, wrapped in silk, about the size of a paperback book. It’s tied with a beautiful gold ribbon, and there’s a card tucked underneath with my name written in flowing calligraphy.
Justine.
I pull the ribbon undone, curious.
Inside, I find a key nestled in layers of plum satin. But it’s not just any key. Elegant and old-fashioned, it’s set with dozens of tiny sparkling crystals, with a fine gold chain looped through the top.
There’s another card underneath. Heavy paper, swirling script.
Welcome to your wildest fantasy.
Are you ready to play?
I look around, but the apartment is empty. No return address or name on the card.
I catch my breath. There’s something so beautiful and seductive about the gift, but I have no idea where it came from.
Who sent it?
What does it mean?
I feel a shiver of excitement. I love games, and I already can tell, this one is going to be fun.