Page 244 of My Rules

Seven months later

“Yeah, and then at halftime, they got the goal.” I push through the door of the bar; it’s Friday night, and I’m having drinks with some colleagues from work.

New York has grown on me; work is amazing, and I’ve made some great friends.

Things are better ... I am better.

“So what, the ref was at fault?” Andrew asks.

“Absolutely.” I roll my eyes. “And then to top it all off, he missed the shot.” We wait at the concierge area. “Hello, table for four, please,” I tell the waiter.

“That will be a few minutes. You can take a seat at the bar while you wait, if you like.”

“Sure thing.” We make our way through as we keep discussing the game in great detail and take a seat at the huge, horseshoe-shaped bar.

“Four Heinekens, please,” Stuart tells the bartender.

We keep chatting and get our beers, and eventually the waiter comes over. “Your table is ready, sir.”

“Thanks.” I stand, and as I go to turn, I see a familiar face at the opposite side of the room. Wearing a tight red dress with her hair down and curled, she’s sitting at the bar.

Rebecca.

She smiles softly, and before I can stop myself, I’m walking over to her.

“Hi, Blake.” She smiles up at me.

“Hi.” I frown.

“You look good.” She smiles as her eyes drop down to my toes and back up to my face.

She seems different and yet so familiar.

I stare at her like I’ve just seen a ghost. “What ... what ...” I glance over to my friends and then back at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

Chapter 25

Rebecca

A frown flashes across his brow. “Why?”

“I ...” My heart is hammering in my chest. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?” He raises an impatient eyebrow.

I smirk. God ... he’s still so gorgeous. “Everything and nothing.”

“I’m very busy, Rebecca. You can’t just turn up here and ...,” he says sternly. “I’m out with friends.”

“I know.” I look around as I try to regain my composure. I wasn’t counting on seeing him in the flesh throwing me this much. “Have you got ten minutes to spare to speak to an old friend?”

His eyes flick to the men he was just with.

“Ten minutes.” I hold my two hands up in surrender. “Not a minute over, I promise.”

He exhales, as if I’m the biggest inconvenience. “Fine, just a minute.” He walks over to his friends, who are now sitting at a table, and says something before returning to me. I gesture to the stool beside me. “Take a seat.”

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