Carmen

Being friends with Sienna has its perks, but sometimes, it can be difficult. My billionaire best friend wanted to link up for drinks at this fancy bar located on the Upper East Side. I may work on the Upper East Side, but I don't belong here. Not by a long shot.

This is the type of place where the lights are so dimly lit you can hardly see where you're going, and even though it's illegal to smoke indoors, none of the wait staff dares to tell the businessmen puffing a cigar in the corner to quit. The people here are entitled—they hold an immense amount of power in this city, which means they can get away with anything.

Vintage Chanel, Valentino, and Saint Laurent are what most of the women are wearing. Expensive perfumes and whispered gossip make me keenly aware that I'm in prestigious company. I don't like getting jealous over trivial things, but I can't help it. I've been obsessed with fashion since I came to America. The first thing I purchased with my own money was a copy of Vogue, and ever since, I've strived to get to a place in life where I can afford luxury brands. Coming here is a terrifying reminder of how far away I am from that goal.

"Hey, guys!" Riley waves us to a booth, and I can't slide in fast enough. The lingering stares of disapproval around us have my stomach clenching and my gaze dropping to my feet. Normally, I'm a confident woman, but put me in a bar full of wealthy White people?

Yeah, I'm uncomfortable.

"This is Margo," Riley gushes. She grabs the woman's hand beside her, grinning from ear to ear. She told me she'd started seeing Lincoln's assistant after Riley made a flower delivery to his office and Margo was the one who accepted them. It was love at first sight for the two love birds, and they've been inseparable for three months now. However, this is the first time I'm meeting her.

Reaching across the booth, I stick out a hand for her to shake—the one that isn't held hostage by my best friend. "Carmen. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she replies. "I've heard a lot about you."

Archer's hand lands on my knee beneath the table. He gives it a gentle squeeze before he leans into my ear to whisper, "I'm glad we're doing this tonight. You know, hanging out with our friends."

"Me too," I say, searching desperately for a bartender.

    '

The truth is, ever since Corden left the shop earlier this afternoon, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. How dare he come into the shop and risk unveiling everything I've tried relentlessly to keep hidden? And I had the opportunity to tell him to get lost, only for me to say nothing at all. I allowed him to leave believing he had a chance, but I'm with Archer and intend to keep it that way. He's the safer option.

No.

The better option.

As if I'm in some sort of mirage, the man in my mind is suddenly standing right in front of me. I blink to try and clear the ridiculous hallucination, but...it isn't going away. Corden is sliding into the booth next to Archer with a smug grin tugging at his lips. "Sorry I'm late," he says, scanning his eyes around the table. "Margo, good to see you."

Her upper lip curls in response. "Can't say the same."

They don't like each other?

Then again, Corden seems to love annoying people to an insanely high degree. He might not be Margo's cup of tea, but it feels like I'm missing a huge piece of the puzzle here. Then again, why would I know anything when it comes to his personal life? Corden is vastly different from Jett, so maybe Margo's reasoning for disliking him is valid.

"Thanks again for the invite Arch," he says, ignoring Margo's curt response. "It's been a long time since we've all hung out."

I turn to look incredulously at my boyfriend. "You invited him?"

"Yeah." He shrugs as if it isn't a big deal. If only he knew. "He called me earlier, and I learned he was back in town. Is that...a problem?" Searching my eyes, he can see the reluctance and disdain I feel towards him, so there's no use trying to hide how much he gets under my skin tonight.

"We didn't exactly start on the best foot," I mutter.

Archer sits back, confused. "I didn't realize you two had met. When did that happen?"

Fuck. I scramble to think of a response, but Corden beats me to it and says, "At the financial meeting with Lincoln. She was delivering flowers for Margo, and I may or may not have tried to hit on her." At Archer's open mouth, he adds, "Not to worry. I didn't realize she was your girlfriend at the time, but it wouldn't have mattered. Her interest wasn't reciprocated."

Margo huffs a laugh. "He gave you one of his sleazy pickup lines, didn't he? Don't worry, I'm pretty sure we've all suffered through them at some point in our lives."

Riley furrows her brows. "Doesn't he know you're..."

"Gay?" She finishes. "He does now, but back in high school when I was still in the closet he tried his hardest to get into my pants. It never worked."

It seems I was right. Corden is different from Jett. The man sitting in this booth lacks the controlled, uptight personality of the person I got to know at The Harbor. He didn't come off as this much of a dickhead, nor was he as arrogant or rude. I figured he was a player, but the way Margo is talking makes me suspicious that he tries to hit on anything with a vagina.

And that realization is more hurtful than I thought it'd be. Him pining after me isn't because I'm special. It's because...

"I've grown since then," he says, his eyes briefly flicking to mine.

"Apparently not since you tried to hit on Carmen, too," Margo sneers.

Archer wraps his arm around my shoulder, but where before it's always felt like a romantic gesture, now it feels like he's staking his claim, and Corden notices it too. He narrows his eyes at the hand placement before refocusing his attention on Margo.

"I suppose you're right."

"Who the fuck invited him?" All of us turn to see Lincoln and Sienna in front of our table, the last to arrive. Sienna's gaze bounces between the brothers.

"Wow." Corden laughs, folding his hands behind his head. He's wearing a t-shirt that's fitted snugly to his broad, muscular chest, and with the position he's currently in, his biceps look mouth-watering. He's the most underdressed person here, yet he seems to fit in better than all of us. "And to think I was excited to come out tonight and spend time with you all."

Lincoln shoots a death glare at Margo who placatingly throws her hands up. "Don't look at me," she says. "You know I despise him."

Then, Lincoln turns to Archer. "Are you kidding?"

"What? He's back in town. I wasn't going to exclude him like that. You know, five years ago, we all used to be best friends. We can't keep hating each other forever."

What happened? From the research I did on Jett, I discovered his father owned Nash Enterprises, but sadly, he committed suicide in his office five years ago, which matches the timeline when their friendship would have fallen apart. How long has he been running whatever operation is in New Jersey? Are the two connected? Since Lincoln is unaware of Jett's double life, I found that doubtful.

Lost in my thoughts, I tune out the rest of the conversation, briefly making a toast to Sienna's latest deal with Le Beaute. She's been working on this deal for months and finally closed it. I couldn't be happier for her, and with the way she's beaming at Lincoln, I can tell she's found someone who treats her right, too. It's what she deserves after all the hell she's been put through in the past.

Riley starts asking Sienna for her advice regarding the best property locations to invest in. We're nowhere near close to being able to afford it, but one day, we want to buy real estate and rent it out as Airbnb. It's more of a ten-year plan, but still. We could use all the advice we can get.

But Sienna quickly excuses herself to the bathroom, asking Lincoln to join, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why both of them would have to go together. Bathroom sex. The thought has my cheeks flushing. It's something I've always wanted to experience, but Archer doesn't peg me as the type to have sex outside of the bedroom.

Despite how much willpower I think I have, I betray myself when my eyes lock with Corden's. His heated stare trails over my face, then down to my breasts, which are exposed in a silk dress that I got from one of those cheap online sites. My nipples pebble from his stare, and his eyes dart to where they're probably outlined beneath the fabric. Then, he smiles that smug fucking grin of his again and brings his hand up to his mouth in order to cover it.

"Oh, Carmen," Riley says, snapping me out of whatever the hell that was. "That bag you wanted went on sale today. You told me to remind you."

I throw my head back and laugh. "Only so I can gaze upon the pictures people have with it on social media."

"Well, duh. I didn't think you were going to buy it. That thing is almost ten grand."

Archer coughs on a sip of his water. "For a purse?"

Ugh, this is why men annoy me. Yes, it's an ungodly amount for a purse, but I can still want it. There's nothing wrong with loving luxury brands or wanting bigger and better for myself. It's—

"Birkin?" Corden muses. "Chanel? What are we talking?"

I scowl in his direction. "It's none of your—"

"The new Birkin drop," Riley supplies. "The baby pink one! Carmen's been obsessing about it for weeks."

Riley is normally shy and quiet as a mouse. Where the hell did this talkative personality come from, and how can I turn it off?

"Hmm," he hums, mulling it over. "I can see why. I like their brand."

Archer scoffs. "I don't care if I'm a millionaire. I'd never waste almost ten grand on a stupid bag."

It shouldn't, but my heart squeezes when Corden snaps, "To each their own."

Thankfully, Lincoln and Sienna return to the table before their disagreement can escalate further, and man, is it a sight to behold. Sienna's cheeks are a bright red, and Lincoln's hair is mussed. It's clear what they were doing, and it's too good of an opportunity not to tease her. Plus, we really need to lighten the mood. "If you wanted a quickie, you could have just left. We would have understood," I say with a devilish grin.

"It's about damn time," Margo adds.

"Oh my god, we did not have a quickie," she blurts.

Riley arches a brow. "Is that why you wiped your lipstick off?"

"Ah," Margo says, scanning her face. "Good point."

"Okay, can everyone stop talking about our sex life please? Let's go back to what I overheard you guys talking about. The newest designer bag, right? What brand?"

Corden leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Oh, come on, Sienna. There's nothing wrong with admitting you liked it."

Who does this guy think he is? God, he's infuriating. What happened to the guy back at The Harbor? The one who seemed like he cared. Who seemed fiercely protective of those he loved, not this person who everyone seems to hate.

"You aren't included in this conversation, Jett," I snap.

He turns to face me, fire igniting behind his eyes. "And why is that? I'm present at this table, aren't I?"

"It doesn't matter if you're at the table. You're here as a guest. You haven't earned the right to tease her yet." I feel Archer stiffen beside me, but I can't seem to stop myself. As much as I want to deny it, arguing with him feels better than not speaking at all, and I despise that my mind doesn't know how to handle that yet.

Corden leans back into the booth, circling the rim of his glass with one finger seeming completely unbothered. "You know, it's a shame you waste that mouth of yours with all that talking. Imagine the possibilities if you pursue other, more filling endeavors."

"Hey," Sienna warns.

I stick my hand up to stop her. I'm fully capable of handling him when I lean forward across the booth, getting a burst of confidence when he dips his eyes down to my breasts for a split second before meeting my eyes again. "Trust me, Jett. I'm very aware of what my mouth is capable of when I'm not speaking, and I'm fucking thrilled to say that you'll never find out."

Our booth grows silent, and when Corden lifts his brows as if to say, Are you sure? I want to grab the knife that's wrapped up with the napkin and stab him with it. Without having to speak at all, he's referring to three months ago when I practically begged him to do just that. I would have given anything that night to sink to my knees before him.

I hold his stare, unflinching as the tension between us rises. I think he might lean over and kiss me, but something akin to anger flashes in his eyes before he rises from the booth, drains the remainder of his drink, and says, "If you'll excuse me, I'm heading out for the night."

But then Archer stands too, and for a brief moment, I forgot he was sitting next to me. I was so wrapped up in whatever this is with Corden that I've been completely ignoring my boyfriend.

"Arch, where are you going?"

He waves between me and Corden, and the guilt begins to bloom in my chest. "I'm going home. What does it look like?" Before I can respond, he moves past Sienna and Lincoln, storming out of the bar in fury. I should follow him, should chase after him and beg for forgiveness, but I'm too busy eyeing Corden, who remains at the booth like he wants to console me.

But then he leaves too, leaving me to wallow by myself, and I welcome all the guilt and sadness that floods my veins. I deserve to feel every ounce of them.

"Well, that was a shit show," Margo quips.

"You think? What did I do? I was telling him off. That's it. I was being mean." But even I know I'm saying this to placate them. The connection Corden and I have is difficult to ignore, but I don't need my friends or his brother to suspect anything is going on between us. It'll lead to too many questions neither of us would be able to answer.

"Girl, keep telling yourself that, but you looked at each other like you wanted to rip your clothes off. The energy was there. I'm pretty sure the entire table felt it."

Fuck.

So much for not making it obvious.

To try and throw them off, I say, "With Jett? Are you joking? Absolutely the fuck not, Margo. I wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole." I wince at Lincoln. "No offense."

He throws his hands up. "None taken. Archer will get over it. I know first-hand how Jett can get under people's skin. I'll talk to him."

"And we can get ice cream on the way home," Riley offers. "Maybe do some face masks? I'll even watch that stupid horror movie you begged me to watch last week."

"Thanks, but..." With the way Margo is staring admiringly at Riley, I don't want to ruin the fun night they had in store. "I'll probably just head home and go to sleep, though. Seriously, I'll be fine."

"You sure?" She asks.

No, I'm not sure, but I also can't risk her being there when I have to leave for my shift at The Harbor at midnight. Normally, she's asleep before ten, but with Margo in the mix, I'm assuming there will be a lot of late nights around the apartment.

Which, I'm ashamed to say, is another reason I decided to date Archer. It gives me an excuse not to be at the apartment and makes Riley less suspicious.

That guilt that inked its way into my veins earlier?

It's fully consuming me now.