Stepping into Noah's penthouse, the skyline of New York unfurled before me like a luminous tapestry, each building a twinkling jewel in the city's crown.
I couldn't help but marvel at the sleek, monochrome design that dominated the space—the kitchen boasted high-gloss cabinets in black and white, while the living room centered around a colossal TV screen and a white designer sofa, I felt almost too ordinary to sit on.
Artistic sculptures dotted the room, but what really caught my eye was an audacious portrait hanging in the hallway—a nude male figure.
"Is this a self-portrait?" I asked, my eyes widening.
Noah chuckled, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. "Yeah, I had a phase where I was really into art."
"No kidding," I laughed, unable to suppress my amusement.
"Who wouldn't want a portrait of their own genitals framed as art?"
"Don't mock the art," he chided, joining in my laughter.
"As if I could," I grinned.
Closing the gap between us, he pulled me into a tight embrace. His lips met mine, igniting a familiar warmth that began to thaw the lingering ice around my heart. Just as his hands started to slide my dress down, the front door swung open with a decisive creak.
"Noah Cloud," a stern female voice declared.
Noah broke away, clutching his unbuttoned shirt closed as if it were a lifeline.
"Mom! Ever heard of knocking?"
"Oh, please, Noah," she retorted, gesturing up and down with her finger, "it's not like I haven't seen it all before."
Without missing a beat, she extended her hand toward me.
"I'm Sarah Cloud. And you are?"
Fumbling to hold my half-removed dress against me, I managed to shake her hand.
"Stephanie King. The pleasure's all mine."
"Ah, Stephanie, the new secretary?" she inquired, her eyes narrowing slightly.
I nodded.
"That's me."
Sarah seized Noah by the ear, a maternal feat of strength.
"When will you ever learn?" she sighed, a mix of frustration and fondness coloring her voice.
The absurdity of the situation overwhelmed me, and I burst into unbridled laughter, retreating a few steps as the evening took yet another unexpected twist.
"Mom, don't embarrass me," Noah's voice tinged with urgency.
Sarah Cloud's eyebrows shot up.
"How could I not, you're acting like a caveman, jumping from one girl to another?"
Noah flailed his arms.
"Mom, apologize."
Sarah smirked, clearly satisfied.
"I did nothing wrong."
As she pivoted to leave, Noah caught her arm.
"Wait, what brings you here?"
"Ah, slipped my mind. Your brother, Charles, is back in town."
His eyes widened.
"Back for good?"
She gazed sternly at him.
"Enough to make you watch your step around the company. Got it?"
"Understood," he muttered, accompanying her to the door.
The door clicked shut behind her. Noah collapsed onto his pristine white sofa, burying his face in his hands.
"Fuck. My. Life."
Curiosity pulling me closer, I sat next to him.
"What's eating you?"
He took a deep breath.
"Charles."
My lips inched towards his, seeking to erase his worries. He leaned back.
"Steph, I can't."
A confused smile escaped me.
"No big deal. How about I make some lunch?"
"I can't," he stood abruptly. "Can you see yourself out?"
My heart skipped.
"See myself out? You helicoptered me here."
His face inched closer, lips parting as if to explain.
I cut him off.
"You know what? Forget it."
Yanking my dress over my head, I stepped into my heels.
"If you're just out for a good time, be honest. Leading people on? That's your game, not mine."
His hand clasped around my wrist.
"Steph, I'm sorry—"
I pulled away.
"Save it. The quicker you accept who you are, the less collateral damage you'll cause."
He muttered, "Stephanie," but it was too late.
The elevator door closed between us, acting as a physical barrier to mirror the emotional one. A tear escaped, but I swiped it away before it had the chance to fall.
The elevator jolted to a halt on the fourth floor. As the doors slid open, a man in a crisp black suit entered. I was busy dabbing at my eyes with a tissue, a final tear stubbornly clinging to my lower lash.
"Stephanie?" The voice was unexpectedly familiar. I looked up.
"Charlie?" Confusion tangled with realization.
Charles Cloud, aka Charlie Cloud. How did I not piece that together before?
For all its skyscrapers and millions of people, New York felt claustrophobically small at this moment.
Charlie gently tipped my chin upward.
"What's the matter?"
The words stuck in my throat, but my eyes flicked upwards, and he followed the direction.
"You were at my brother's?"
Swallowing hard, I spoke.
"I work for him. I'm his secretary."
His hands clenched into fists.
"What did he do to you?"
"I fell for him, I know, stupid as fuck," I admitted.
Charlie's hands left his sides to tear through his hair. "Jesus, Steph, you didn't know?"
Guilt washed over me.
"I didn't realize he was your brother."
His hands found my face, cupping it gently as he looked into my eyes.
"Listen, my brother and I share a certain talent for self-destruction. I wouldn't wish that on you."
A bitter laugh caught in my throat.
"Seems like I'm drawn to complications."
A warm smile crossed his lips. "Come."
He pressed a button and the elevator doors opened to reveal a spacious living room, complete with a balcony. A sleek black cat immediately weaved between our legs.
Bending down, I lifted the cat into my arms.
"Hello, Mr. Black."
Charlie uncorked a bottle of Pinot Gris.
"Not many people win his affection."
I met Charlie's eyes, the cat purring in my arms.
"Then Mr. Black and I have more in common than I thought."
He disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of Pinot Gris and two glasses.
My eyes widened. "No way."
His eyes met mine, a spark of anticipation dancing in them.
"I wanted to call you tomorrow, but I guess the universe has its own plans."
I grazed my lips across his cheek.
"Oh, what I wouldn't give for you to have arrived a day earlier, before I got entangled with your brother."
Charlie poured wine into our glasses with a smile tinged by regret.
"I messed up, didn't I? Again."
I shook my head, lifting my glass for a toast.
"No, you were upfront about where you stood. That's more than I can say for most men. And for that, I respect you."
His eyes probed mine. "So, what's the story between you and my brother?"
I put my glass down and leaned back.
"You want the naked truth?"
He clutched his chest dramatically.
"Oh, pierce me right through the heart, why don't you?"
I let out a rueful laugh. "I slept with him."
Charlie erupted into a full-bodied laugh.
"No shit, Sherlock."
I chuckled, the tension dissipating.
"Well, ever since we met, there was this... tension. Then last night happened. Too many drinks, him picking me up from the bar, and we wound up in bed this morning."
His expression turned solemn. "Alright, my turn for the naked truth?"
I nodded.
"I hate that it was him and not me. I came back here wanting to make you mine."
I exhaled slowly, sipping my wine.
"Wow, that's a lot."
"I like him, Charlie. Ever since we met, he's been on my mind. But I won't let myself be played," I confessed.
"So, I didn't give off the 'player' vibe then?" He raised an eyebrow, almost teasingly.
I chuckled, feeling the bittersweet sting of my words. "I thought about you, Charlie. About that night. It was the best I've had, to be honest. But I didn't plan on coming back here, so I tried not to think about it."
"Do you mean that?" He looked at me, his eyes probing for the truth.
"Every word," I assured him.
His eyes gleamed as he refilled our glasses.
"What if I told you I'm back for good?"
I stared into my wine, then back at him.
"Well, shit!"
He chuckled, the sound settling like a comforting blanket over the room.
"Can I wash away the bitterness my brother left behind?"
Sipping my wine, I looked into his eyes, feeling the pull but also sensing the chaos that could unfurl. "Charlie, this is a recipe for disaster."
Memories of Noah's warning that storms follow Charlie swirled through my mind.
"I don't want to be a pawn in a brotherly feud," I added.
He leaned in closer, as if sharing a secret.
"Naked truth?"
The emotion behind his gaze made my heart race.
"Go on."
His words unfolded slowly, laden with emotion.
"That first time we were together, I knew I wanted more. At the train station, you talked about wanting someone to come home to. I've pictured being that person, waiting for you."
I placed my hand on his cheek, my skin tingling with electricity at the contact.
"Charlie, I'm a mess in my own right."
"I know," he whispered. "I'm not looking to fix you, just to start anew. With you."
"Can I take some time to think? Tonight's been an emotional battlefield."
He smiled, a genuine, understanding grin.
"Take all the time you need."
"Say, a few years?" I quipped.
"Just don't make it two decades; I'm not getting any younger," he feigned a wince, clutching his chest dramatically.
Laughter bubbled out of me, lightening the heaviness that had settled in the room.
"You're not aging, Charlie Cloud. You're maturing, like fine wine."
A sly smirk crossed his lips. "Need a ride home?"
Shaking my head, I moved towards the door.
"I'll call a cab."
As I stepped toward the elevator, he grabbed my hand and spun me around. His lips found mine in a deep, soul-stirring kiss that felt like a promise.
"This isn't goodbye, Stephanie King," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.
Feeling a sense of warmth spread through me, I touched my still-tingling lips.
"Charlie Cloud," I echoed softly, as the elevator doors closed, sealing off the moment but leaving an open door for what might come next.