His To Shatter Read online

  “We have to celebrate,” Dara insisted. “Everybody, put on your Sunday best. We’re hitting the bar!”

  Ashlee and Kyle roared their approval of Dara’s plan, though I felt just a tad deflated. I wasn’t exactly a bar fly kind of girl, given my family’s history with booze. I would tag along when my friends were headed out for the evening, sure, but it would never be my first choice destination. I usually ended up playing den mother when a big group of us went out—not exactly my idea of a good time. Still, my three friends were looking at my expectantly, and I couldn’t very well say no to them. I smiled as gamely as I could, and headed off into my room to get dressed for the night.

  Despite being a little put off by the bar outing, my entire body was positively vibrating with delight. I replayed the interview over and over again in my head. It was hard to believe that the whole thing had gone down just that afternoon. The whole day had been so utterly surreal that I halfway feared I was dreaming. As I stripped off my sleek interview outfit, I pinched the tender skin of my upper arms to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. My life hadn’t exactly been exciting up until that point—but were things finally starting to turn out?

  I dug through my closet, looking for something suitable to wear out on the town. I could hear my trio of companions chattering excitedly behind my closed door. They all got changed and dressed with their doors open, not caring if someone saw them getting naked. I had always been a little more guarded. It wasn’t that I necessarily believed in the importance of modesty, at least not the way it’s thrown around and moralized by small town mothers like my own. I just didn’t feel quite so comfortable being naked in front of other people. The only people who had seen me naked as an adult had been Marc. And that hadn’t exactly been a confidence-boosting experience.

  “Imagine how hot you would be if you lost, like, five pounds,” he had said to me once, right after we’d slept together in his cluttered dorm room. I’d been so embarrassed that I couldn’t speak. He’d been a master at making me feel insecure. His jabs had been so simple and cutting that I internalized them almost immediately. I’d never felt that my body was inadequate before I started sleeping with Marc. Sure, I has hardly a stick, but I felt comfortable in my own skin. Marc had made me question everything, and though we hadn’t dated for years, I still felt the sting of his criticism. Maybe that was part of the reason that I still hadn’t been with anyone else.

  My thoughts were ripped away from the unseemliness of my one and only boyfriend by a dress that was hidden away in the back of my closet. I laughed, realizing that it was my old prom dress. My family hadn’t had a lot of money, so I had to buy a getup for prom by myself, saving up all the tips I earned scooping ice cream at a little shop in West Chester. Those tips hadn’t exactly been generous, as most of my customers had been little kids with leftover lunch money, and my dress had been rather simple in the end. It was a little red number, super tight and fitted in just the right way to bring flatter my hourglass figure. I’d definitely looked out of place among the puffy pink gowns of my classmates, but I had a feeling that this dress would be the perfect thing for a night out on the town.

  I squeezed into the garment, and was shocked to find that it still fit, more or less. The only difference now was that my boobs had grown quite a bit. I twirled around before my mirror, amused by how uncharacteristically much like Jessica Rabbit I looked. Why not? I thought, pulled my ash blonde hair up into a messy up-do. It was a special night, after all. I’d made it through my interview like a rock star, I figured that I might as well dress like one, too. I put on some deep red lipstick and a couple fierce swipes of liquid eyeliner to complete my look. Satisfied and as dolled-up as I’d ever been, I cracked open my bedroom door.

  Ashlee, Dara, and Kyle were standing around the kitchen, about to take a pre-game shot. They looked up in unison as I came toward them and gasped collectively. I’d never seen three jaws drop as one, before that moment.

  “Maddie?!” Ashlee breathed, giving me a searching once-over, “When the hell did you become a sex pot?”

  “Is that Maddie?” Dara broke in, taking a tentative step towards me, “Or is this an Invasion of the Body Snatchers moment?”

  “I think that’s our Maddie,” Ashlee said, “But how can we be sure?”

  “Quick,” Dara said to me, “What was my nickname for Nick Bowman’s cock during our sophomore year?”

  “The Incredible Shrinking Man,” I smiled.

  “It’s her!” Dara cried, clapping her hands together.

  “Where have you been hiding all this?” Ashlee demanded.

  “OK, OK,” I said, “That’s enough. You act like you’ve never seen me looking nice before.” Dara and Ashlee fell silent. Indignant, I planted my hands on my hips, “You’re supposed to tell me that I always look nice, assholes.”

  “I think you always look nice,” Kyle finally spoke up. “Especially without all that crap on your face.”

  I smirked right back at him. There was no way his charming sense of sarcasm was going to spoil my good mood, not that night. Dara grabbed a shot off the counter and held it up to the assembled group in a toast. Ashlee and Kyle followed suit, and the three of them were about to take their first shot of the evening when I surprised myself by interjecting.

  “Give me one too,” I said. They looked at me like I’d sprouted another head. “Seriously,” I said, emboldened by my surreal and exciting day, “I just want to try one.”

  “Maddie,” Kyle said, “You never drink. I’ve seen you have, like, three glasses of chardonnay since I’ve known you.”

  “Yeah, well I’ll have to build up my tolerance for all the fancy business lunches I’ll be having soon,” I said. I could hardly believe that these words were coming out of my mouth. I’d always avoided alcohol in my adult life for fear of ending up like my father. But that day, I felt like the dark memory of his sickness had finally lifted. I felt absolutely invincible, like an entirely new woman. My successful interview and the bizarre appearance of my personal savior had me feeling like the queen of Manhattan. If I wanted to throw on a sexy dress and take a shot or two, why shouldn’t I let myself? After so many buttoned-up years, I felt ready to let loose a little. I deserved it, didn’t I?

  “Are you sure you really want this?” Ashlee said.

  Their reluctance was a little irritating, to say the least. “I don’t need to be nannied about this,” I said.

  “We’re not trying to nanny you,” Dara replied, “We’re just trying to be good friends. We don’t want you to regret anything.”

  “I only regret not letting myself have any fun sooner,” I said. “Come on. Pour me a shot. I’ve never even had one.”

  Stealing a sidelong glance at Ashlee, Dara reached for the bottle of booze and poured out a fourth shot for me. She handed me the tiny glass, and a swell of anticipation rose in my belly as I took it from her. I felt ridiculous for being nervous.

  “To Madison,” Ashlee said, “And to every heart she’s going to break in Paris!” They slugged back their shots, and I bravely swallowed the contents of my glass in one gulp as well. The sudden burn in the back of my throat should have left me coughing, but instead I was grinning. The warm flow of the liquor felt amazing. I hadn’t expected to like the taste of it, either—but I did. I really did.

  “Well,” Kyle said, “How was your first shot of whiskey?”

  I smacked my lips in response, drawing relieved giggles from Dara and Ashlee. It felt wonderful to be included in the fun, for once. We gathered our things excitedly and headed out into the warm night. The Lower East Side had come alive, as it always did after the sun had set. Swells of people flowed over the worn sidewalks, artistic types for the most part. The air hung heavy with the smells of cigarette smoke, flowing booze, and excitement. This was the neighborhood people flocked to when they were looking to escape from the pressing drudgery of the week. And it seemed that everyone out and about that evening was ready and waiting for something incredible to happen.


  The fervor was infectious, and quickly got under my skin. I linked elbows with Ashlee and strutted down the sidewalk. We laughed as the catcalls grew into a cacophony, and this time I knew that it wasn’t just Ashlee that the masses were responding to. Usually, that kind of attention just bothered me to no end, but the shot of whiskey was doing the trick. The warmth of that brown liquid courage was coursing strongly through my body, and I couldn’t wait to keep going. If one drink had me feeling this good and confident, what would two do? Or three?

  I let my friends lead the way, seeing as they knew the bar scene in our neighborhood much better than we did. After a few more blocks, Dara pulled us up short in front of an unmarked doorway, flanked by two impressively huge bouncers.

  “Have room for four?” Dara asked one of the gentlemen, popping her hip out in a practiced but sexy way.

  The bouncer looked us over, his eyes lingering skeptically on Kyle for a moment. I may have been abstinent when it came to booze, but I usually went along with the group when there was dancing involved. I knew that clubs were not as keen on letting guys in as they were women. But apparently, being flanked by three hot babes was helping Kyle’s case. The bouncer nodded to us, a gesture which I gathered meant that we were in. Dara beckoned us all forward, and we fell in behind her eagerly.

  Down a steep flight of steps, a gigantic basement room opened up into a swanky, strange bar. The walls were covered in taxidermy and other bizarre artifacts, and the light in the place was a decidedly purple hue. I’d never seen anything like it. Dara headed straight for the bar and got the bartender’s attention without even trying. We crowded around her as the bartender began mixing ingredients together, eventually producing four slender glasses of bright pink liquid. The raging bass line of the house music made it almost impossible to hear each other, so Dara simply raised her glass in a wordless salute to the evening. I took a tentative sip of the stuff and was surprised to find that it didn’t taste at all like alcohol. Assuming that it must not be too potent, I took a generous swig, and then another.

  The warmth of the whiskey was intensified with each passing moment, and before I knew it, the world around me had grown thick and loose and incredibly sexy. Ashlee grabbed onto my hands and pulled me onto the dance floor. I felt myself start to writher beside her, moving my hips and arms in a way they’d certainly never behaved before. I’d never felt more attractive and untouchable in my life—and quite possibly, I’d never had so much fun. Dara and Kyle joined us, and soon we were all four dancing like there was no tomorrow.

  Eventually, we began to meld into the crowd. People outside our circle would come up for a moment and join us, sometimes scooting up close to one or the other of us. We were certainly popular out there on the dance floor. After a couple of songs, or maybe it had been a dozen, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I twirled around and found myself face-to-face with a pair of beautiful green eyes. After a moment, the face and body attached to those eyes swam into focus as well. A handsome young man stood before me, smiling broadly.

  He wasn’t exceptionally tall, but broad in the shoulders and rather more muscular than your average guy. He had a shortly cropped head of blonde hair and a big smile that put me at ease immediately. As the music pumped around us, I moved closer toward him, and his smile only grew wider. He reminded me of the kind of boy I’d known back in West Chester, eager country boys with everything to prove who just wanted to have fun and kick back. There was definitely some Midwestern back story to this bloke, but that’s certainly not where my mind was that night.

  His hands came to a rest of my gyrating hips, and I scooted in as close as I could. We were moving together, against each other, as the rest of the room faded into a hazy blur. There wasn’t a thing on my mind besides those lovely green eyes and the pleasant buzz that had washed over my body. I’d never been so uninhibited in my life, or so drunk. I couldn’t quite understand how I’d gotten so tipsy—those pink drinks had hardly tasted like they’d had any alcohol in them. But it didn’t matter at that moment. I had better, and more attractive, things to think about.

  “You’re a good dancer,” my companion shouted over the music. Even then I could scarcely hear him.

  “Thanks,” I yelled back, spinning around to face him. “You’re not so bad, yourself.”

  “Can I get you another drink?” he asked, beaming in my direction.

  “Sure!” I said. What harm could one more drink do?

  “Come on, let’s hit the bar,” he said, taking my hand. His firm, reassuring grip felt nice, and I allowed myself to be towed off the dance floor. I waved back toward my friends, but they were all three similarly occupied. Dara was already making out with someone I’d never seen before, and Ashlee was showing off her trained dance moves. Even Kyle had found some pretty brunette to chat with over at the edge of the crowd. It was awesome, for once, not to be someone’s third wheel—to actually be participating in the fun instead of watching from the sidelines. I squeezed my new friend’s hand and let him whisk me back to the bar.

  The noise dropped off as soon as we cleared the dance floor, as did the press of people. I had no idea how much time had gone by since we arrived, but it seemed like the entire bar had gravitated toward the open floor space. A whole crowd of people bumped and writhed along with the music, and I couldn’t help but smile. So that was what it felt like to be a part of the scene, at long last. Usually, I was the only sober person in the room, which meant that I generally left pretty early. But tonight, I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  My new friend directed me to a plushy bar stool and sank down on his own beside me. He waved the bartender over eagerly.

  “Do you like tequila?” he asked, not having to scream now that we’d gotten a little away from the dance floor.”

  “Sure!” I replied, down for anything. The truth was that I’d never even tried tequila, but I was willing to experiment. The whiskey had gone down nice a smooth, after all. I thought of it as expanding my horizons.

  “Two shots of Patron!” my buddy said to the bartender. And in no time at all, there were two little glasses and a couple of lime wedges sitting in front of us. “So you take the shot, then suck on the lime,” the guy instructed me. I nodded, ever the good student, and slugged back the booze. It hardly even tasted strong anymore, it was just a nice little burn and a good taste of my tongue. I brought the lime wedge to my lips and sucked, relished the cool taste of it in my mouth. I couldn’t believe I’d been missing out on all this for so long. There was a reason people loved going out on the town, after all!

  “What’s your name?” I asked my friend, as the tequila worked its way down to my toes.

  “I’m Ryan,” he replied, holding out his hand. I smiled, charmed by this little professional gesture. It seemed so adorably out of place at the bar.

  “I’m Madison,” I said, running my fingertip along the rim of my shot glass. The motion definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Ryan.

  “Madison,” he repeated, “That’s a very pretty name.”

  “Thank you!” I answered enthusiastically.

  “A very pretty name for a very pretty girl,” he went on, laying a hand on mine. It wasn’t a very original line, but I appreciated it nonetheless. I was feel pretty, for once in my life, and it didn’t hurt to have it acknowledged.

  “What do you do, Ryan?” I asked, scooting as close to him as I could without falling off my stool.

  “I work on Wall Street,” he answered.

  “Cool,” I said. That explained the clean cut look. I was pleased that he didn’t have the power suit look about him, though. There wasn’t much that appealed to me about the “frat bro” look that lots of young Wall Street guys adopted. Ryan just looked put together, a far cry from the shaggy, unkempt artists who made up most of the neighborhood.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “I’m studying international marketing at NYU,” I replied. “I just landed a summer internship at Corelli. In Paris.”

  �
��Corelli?” he said, his green eyes widening. “Holy shit! They’re huge.”

  “I know,” I said proudly.

  “Well, we need another shot to celebrate!” he said. He motioned to the bartender, and in an instant second shots were in front of us. We raised them in the purple light, smiling at each other. “To you, Madison,” Ryan said.

  “To me!” I replied happily, and down my shot in one go. The room was definitely wavering now, and I felt like I was floating through the world, untouchable. No wonder people liked this so much! I felt like I could do anything that I wanted, that the world was laying at my feet. And my companion on my first night of freedom just happened to be a handsome, well-mannered man with good taste in tequila. Things seemed to be off to a good start. I closed my eyes for a happy moment, marveling at the way the air seemed to spin around me as I sat still.

  “I hope I’m not being too forward,” Ryan said, leaning in close to me, “But I’d really love to take you back to my place.”

  My stomach flipped a little. I’d heard those words plenty of times before, but I’d never had the courage or desire to act on them. But now, I felt brave enough to take a chance. I smiled back at Ryan, ready for anything, and nodded my head. He grinned, helping me down from my stool. I was amazed to find that walking was actually a lot harder than I had expected. When had the floor become so slanted? I was relieved when Ryan slid his arm around my waist to steady me. What a gentleman I’d stumbled onto, after all!

  As we made our way toward the door, our progress was suddenly halted by a figure standing in our path. I squinted into the purple light, trying to see who, exactly, was standing so rudely in our way. Suddenly, Kyle’s features swam into focus. He was wearing an unhappy scowl, but I was still elated to see him.

  “Kyle!” I cried, throwing my arms around his neck as I stumbled into him.

  “Madison,” he answered coolly, steadying me as I wobbled. “Have you had much more to drink?”