Chapter One
Theclubwashopping.Pumping. Beautiful people from all walks of life gyrated on the dance floor. The air smelled of sex, sweat, and overpriced perfume. Alto definitely was living up to its reputation as the hottest nightclub in Manhattan.
Chloe Doyle raised her champagne flute in the air and clinked glasses with her three friends. “Cheers!” Taking a sip, the sweet bubbles tickled her mouth.
“Happy birthday, Chloe,” Hazel Rabin said, raising her voice over the throbbing retro music while dancing in her chair. “Here’s to turning thirty.”
“Stop reminding me.” Chloe threw her friend a dirty look. Was she reallythirty? When had that happened? She still felt like she was in her twenties, but her body sometimes ached and little laugh lines had started to appear around her eyes, much to her chagrin. She wasn’t ready to be thirty. Heck, she was barely ready to be twenty-nine.
Hazel pointed her glass in Chloe’s direction as beams of pink, red, and yellow light flashed across her face. “Hey, you’re still younger than me.”
“And me,” Blair O’Connell said before finishing her champagne. “Not that it matters because I’m still fabulous.”
“That you are,” Daniela Maruyama chimed in with a grin. “We’re all fabulous, fierce females who only get better with age.” She raised her glass and downed it in a gulp. “Face it, Chloe, you’re always going to be the baby.” She picked up the bottle and refilled everyone’s glasses.
“Only by one year.” The flippant comment stung more than it should have done. Yes, Chloe was the baby of her family. And yes, she had accomplished a lot—college and a successful career—but it didn’t feel like enough. Her friends had so much more going for them than Chloe did. Daniela was happily single, devoting her energy to producing several hit series while somehow managing to find the time to parent a toddler. Meanwhile, her coworkers, Blair and Hazel, were both married to amazing partners with beautiful children. Chloe dreamed of being as fulfilled with her life as her friends were. It had taken her thirty years to figure out what she truly wanted, and now that she had, things were going to change. Time for a new life. She hadn’t flown all the way from Sydney, Australia for nothing.
“So,” Blair said, twisting the stem of her flute between her fingers, her eyes glassy from a little too much champagne, “you’re now in your dirty thirties and still gloriously single, when are you going to unleash yourself on our American men and compare them to your Aussie blokes? I need numbers. Statistics. Who's better in bed? I want a detailed comparison.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “Good God, Blair, you make her sound like a slut.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Daniela interjected.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Hazel repeated dutifully. “Still, that’s one helluva question to ask.” Hazel shook her head and nudged Chloe’s shoulder. “You don’t have to answer her. Blair is just being a perv.”
Blair slammed back the rest of her drink. “Yes, she does! Who else am I going to ask, though? You’ve been with Joyce for twenty-some-odd years, and Daniela’s ace. You’re not going to give me the data I need,” she whined. “Besides, I’m married and have a three-year-old and a six-month-old. The most excitement I get in my bed nowadays is when Carter has a nightmare and crawls between Mitch and me. Look around”—she gestured broadly at the crowd almost smacking Daniela in the face—“this place is packed with hotties, and I look like sex on heels in this dress. But can I sample any of them? Noooooo. So, if I can encourage my friend to make the most of her single life and live vicariously through her… I will!” Blair slapped a hand on the table.
Hazel paused her glass at her lips, then laughed. “Fair enough.”
Chloe hid a grimace. If only her friends knew that Chloe had nothing to compare American men to. She’d been so focused on becoming as successful as her two brothers that she’d completely neglected the social side of her life. The only friends she had were family, clients, or coworkers. And as for dating, the word nonexistent leapt to mind. The only guy she’d ever been remotely interested in had been a friend of her brothers. And even if she’d managed to break the bro code, he’d long since moved away to God knows where. That had been when she was eighteen, and there hadn’t been anyone else since. It was something she wanted to change. Desperately.
Flipping her grimace to a grin, Chloe said, “Yes, you are hot in that dress, and you could hook up with any guy in this club. Or girl. Or person,” she added in deference to Hazel.
Blair pulled her shoulders back, fluffed out her blonde pixie cut with her fingers, and smirked. “You bet I could.” She scanned the packed club of dancers and drinkers with a gleam in her eye. “If I were single, there are plenty of hot guys here I’d like to get to know alittle better. See any one-night stands you want to partake in?”
Maybe if she was ten years younger, with the excitement of living in a new city, maybe she would have been up for what Blair was suggesting, but she didn’t want a one-night stand. She wanted the long haul. “I’m sorry, I will notunleashmyself on all the men in New York. I’m only looking for one. The faster, the better.”
“What do you mean?” Daniela frowned, leaning closer to Chloe.
Chloe ran her finger around the edge of her glass, not quite able to meet her friend’s inquisitive gaze. Each of her friends had their life together, and Chloe still felt like something was missing. No, sheknewthat something was missing. “It means that I’m thirty now, and if I wait any longer, my eggs will have shriveled up and died. I moved here to give myself a better chance of finding love, getting married, and starting a family before it’s too late.”
Daniela made a face but didn’t say anything.
Blair had no such compunctions. She pointed a finger at Chloe. “Firstly, your eggs will not shrivel up because you’re not that old.”
“If you’re really that worried about it you can have your eggs harvested,” Hazel interjected. “That’s what Joyce did.”
“That’s right,” Blair said with a sharp nod. “Secondly, don’t they have men in Australia? I’ve seen some Aussie movies, and my God, the men down under are hot. If they all looked like Chris Hemsworth, I’d never leave the country.”
“Yes, there’re men in Australia, and no, they don’t all look like a Hemsworth.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Dating was never on the menu. Between work and family and more work, I never had the time. And it didn’t matter, until suddenly it did.”
“What happened?” Daniela asked, her eyes filled with sympathy.
A lance of pain speared Chloe’s chest, and she stared into her glass. “Six months ago, I watched a close friend pass away before she got the chance to turn thirty. She had no partner and no kids. Isla thought she had all the time in the world to find her true love and start a family. All she wanted to do was focus on work. Just like me.” She swirled the champagne, watching the bubbles pop one by one. “Then she got sick, and her time… her time ran out. She told me that she regretted waiting. I don’t want to have those same regrets. Moving here is an opportunity I plan to take advantage of. I want to find love and have everything that goes with it.”
Hazel slid her palm along the table and placed it on top of Chloe’s hand. “I’m sorry about your friend. Are you okay?”
“Do you want to go? Is this”—Daniela motioned to the club—“too much, too soon?”
