New Year Second Chance

I say nothing as I let the moments play inside my head. I remember them clearly, just as if they happened yesterday.

Sitting on my bed wondering if I should go to Jenna’s apartment as planned or bail out. Buying the wine. Arriving at Jenna’s. Eating cheese and cold cuts. Drinking the wine while watching Netflix. That conversation about aliens. And finally, the sex.

God, the sex.

I never thought Jenna would be brave enough to make the first move. I knew she was a virgin. But she did, and towards the end she was even daring. I could tell she enjoyed it. I know I did. I wasn’t lying when I said the sex was amazing. Just the memory of it now is enough to cause a spike in my temperature, a skip in my pulse.

It was amazing, but it ended. I had to leave. Jenna tried to stop me. Words were said, some of which I regret now.

Hell, I regret the whole thing now.

“I didn’t go to a party,” I finally answer Victor’s question.

“Hmm.” He taps his fingers on his arm.

“What did you do?” I ask him.

“I was re-playing StarCraft II. For the fifth time.”

A video game? Right. Sometimes I forget that Victor is twenty-eight just like me. People our age still play games and have fun. I guess he seems so serious and so responsible that I forget sometimes. Then again, I forget that I’m twenty-eight sometimes. When I’m around other entrepreneurs, especially the older, more conservative ones, I tend to make myself sound older, and since I’ve been around them a lot lately, I guess I feel older now, too.

“So wouldn’t you rather be at home doing that?” I ask Victor. “For the sixth time?”

“Maybe,” he answers with a sigh. “But it’s not bad being here, either, especially since I’m getting paid.”

“Hmm.”

“If I may ask, what is it about parties that you don’t like?”

I shrug. “The people I have to please. The champagne I have to drink.” I look at my glass, then at a passing tray of shrimp tempura. “And the bits of food that seem to go down my throat before I can taste them.”

“They’re called hors d’oeuvres,” Victor says.

I glance at him. “I meant the ones arranged artistically on fancy plates at round tables.”

He chuckles. “Ah, those dinner parties catered by Michelin-starred chefs. Well, what can I say? People come to those parties to mingle, not to eat.”

I know. That’s why I go to them, too.

“And speaking of mingle…” Victor nudges my arm and gestures to the woman headed towards me.

A woman in a blue and green dress with a string of diamonds dancing from her ears. Her ruby red lips are curved into an alluring smile.

Now, this is one more reason I hate these parties. The women. The ones who look at you like you’re some prize they’re planning on taking home. I see them elsewhere, too, but at parties like this, they’re usually more determined, ruthless sometimes. They were all raised in wealthy families, so you’d think they’d have better manners, or at least a bit more self-restraint when it comes to men. I’ve managed to turn down most of them unscathed, but a few have reverted to being spoiled five year-olds and throwing tantrums.

“Her name is Regina Blake,” Victor whispers to me. “Younger sister of the owner of this hotel.”

Great. Someone I have to talk to. Will she throw a tantrum or will she be reasonable?

“Good evening,” she greets me as she pulls her shoulders back. “I trust you’re enjoying the party.”

“It is a great party,” I answer. “I believe your brother deserves some credit for that.”

“Oh, please.” She waves her hand in front of her face. “All he did was supply the venue.”

And at a high cost, I’m sure.

“An amazing venue,” Victor remarks, but Regina doesn’t even look at him.

“It is amazing,” I second his opinion.

“I know,” she says. “The location is perfect.”

“So it is.”

Regina puts one finger between her lips. “You know, it’s unfair. You know who I am, but I don’t know you.”

“You don’t? Well, forgive me for being rude.” I offer her my hand. “Dax Bender.”

“Regina Blake,” she says her name as she shakes my hand then hangs on to it. “I don’t suppose you have a bit of time to hang out with me later? Say midnight?”

She gives me a grin as she strokes my palm.

Bold. I have to shut her down fast.

“Sorry.” I pull my hand away. “But I’m not planning on staying that long.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flickers on her face, but she recovers quickly. “In that case, we’ll hang out another time. I’m sure I’ll be running into you again, Dax Bender. If I don’t, you know where to find me.”

“I do,” I tell her.

She nods, then flips her auburn hair over her shoulder as she turns on her heel. Good. No tantrum.