A Chance Encounter

I want to go back to New York in hope of finding her, but what are the chances in a city filled with millions of people that I’ll ever see her again? I contacted that photographer, hoping she would have her last name, but she’s out of the country. I don’t really have a plan to find this woman, except to stalk Bryant Park… and that’s not exactly an ideal plan.

“Easton!” Nicole barks. “You need to talk to me. Did something happen in LA that’s making you not want to go home? What the hell is going on? As your assistant, I need to know… and as your sister, it’s killing me not to know.”

“He’s in looovvve,” Jordan, my best friend and opener, says with a laugh.

I chuck a pillow at him, smacking him right in the face. “I’m not in love.” It’s too soon for that shit.

Nicole gasps. “Oh my God, who are you in love with?”

“I just said I’m not in love. You’re going to believe that fool over me?” Who am I kidding? Of course she’s going to believe him. Because she’s in love with, and engaged to, him. Two facts I pretend don’t exist. It’s the reason why she’s on tour with us, when she usually only shows up occasionally, because she doesn’t want to leave her fiancé—the two of them are attached at the damn hip.

“Well, you’re something,” Jordan says, throwing the pillow back at me. “The only times I’ve seen that look on your face was in the tenth grade when Rosalinda Pierce kissed you during spin the bottle and when Ashleigh said yes to marrying—”

“Don’t go there,” Nicole warns, cutting him off.

Jordan flinches, then shoots me an apologetic look, knowing the mention of my ex, Ashleigh, is a touchy subject for me. It’s been years, but her betrayal still runs deep.

“Look, I’m not in love,” I tell them. “I met a woman at the park and we kind of hit it off…”

“Wait a second.” Nicole grabs her phone and types away. “It wouldn’t happen to be this woman, would it?” She turns her phone around and on the screen is a photo of Sophia and me from the impromptu photo shoot. I know this because I have every one of them saved to my phone—have looked at them no less than a dozen times.

“It is, isn’t it?” She shrieks.

“How did you get this?” I ask, as Jordan comes over and looks over her shoulder at the photo.

“Preston emailed me regarding them, asking if he missed a photo shoot and if he should post them on your social media and website. I was going to ask you about them, but I got sidetracked. What shoot are these from?”

“They’re not from a shoot…”

Nicole raises a brow, and I sigh, knowing she’s going to freak out when I tell her what I did. All press shit and photo shoots have to be approved by the label—luckily, the label is Blackwood Records, owned by our parents.

When I finish explaining what happened—leaving out the part about us having sex in my hotel room afterward because that shit isn’t her business—my sister is speechless, and Jordan is grinning like a damn fool.

“Where did you find the photos anyway?” Maybe they’ll lead me to Sophia.

“On social media. Apparently, you’ve been tagged in them, but I haven’t had a chance to check it all out yet. I was working out the details for the New Year’s Eve performance at Times Square for Jordan.”

“You got in?” I ask him.

“Yeah, someone backed out,” he says.

“That’s awesome, man.” I extend my fist and bump knuckles with him. Jordan went the college route, majoring in music. After he graduated, he took a job working for my family’s record label, in the studio. A few years later, he came to me and said he wanted to record but needed some guidance. He had a shit load of songs but needed help with the exposure, wanting to do it right. Of course I told him we’d help him. Unlike my music, which is more pop and contemporary R & B—think Justin Bieber, pre-finding Jesus days—meets Justin Timberlake, post-NSYNC—Jordan’s is a bit more hip hop with a bit of rap thrown in—a Drake meets Dre vibe. I suggested we collaborate on a track and it blew the hell up. People wanted more. So the record label gave them more, and a year later, he’s opening for me on my fifth tour. There’s nothing better than doing what you love, except doing it with the people you love.

Jordan wraps his arms around Nicole and she snuggles into his chest. He kisses her temple and she smiles up at him. My heartstrings tug slightly, wishing I could find what they’ve found. What my parents, who’ve been married for over thirty years, found. I thought I found it once, but it turned out to be a lie.