Chapter 4
The city felt calmer tonight.
Scarlett sat in the passenger seat, Naomi driving with one hand on the wheel and the other scrolling through songs on the car's screen. "You okay back there, quiet one?" Naomi teased, glancing at her.
"I'm fine," Scarlett muttered, tugging at her oversized hoodie. "Just… not in the mood to run into anyone from my mess of a life."
Naomi smirked. "Relax. No one important comes here. Just people with regrets, bad taste in music, and a love for cheap wine."
Scarlett chuckled, tension easing slightly. "Sounds like my crowd."
They pulled into the lot outside the low-lit lounge. Inside, the music was soft, just enough to fill the space without taking over. It wasn't crowded — exactly how Scarlett liked it.
They picked a table near the back. Naomi waved down a waiter, and Scarlett's eyes drifted toward the bar.
Then froze.
There, half-turned on a stool with a drink in his hand — Jace.
Her stomach sank.
She quickly looked away, turning toward Naomi. "Crap."
Naomi paused. "What?"
Scarlett stiffened. "The guy at the bar… I know him."
Naomi glanced discreetly, then back. "From where?"
Scarlett swallowed. "Vegas."
Naomi's eyes widened. "Wait—" "That guy? The one-night stand?"
Scarlett nodded slightly, her heart beating too fast.
Naomi peered again. "Girl. You didn't tell me he looked like that. Damn."
"Stop," Scarlett hissed under her breath. "Don't make this a thing."
Too late.
Across the room, Jace turned — and their eyes met.
His expression shifted. Confused. Then certain. No smile, no attitude. Just recognition.
Scarlett instinctively turned her chair a little, hiding behind Naomi's shoulder.
Naomi's lips curved. "Oh no. He saw you. He's coming over."
Scarlett groaned. "This is not happening."
But it was.
Footsteps approached. Calm. Measured.
Then his voice.
"Scarlett."
She looked up.
"Jace," she said quietly. The name still carried late-night regret and awkward truths.
Naomi looked between them. "I'll, uh… get us drinks."
She slipped away, grinning.
Jace stood for a moment, eyes flickering with something unreadable. "Didn't expect to see you again."
"Yeah… me neither," Scarlett said, brushing hair behind her ear, suddenly aware of every movement.
Jace nodded toward the chair across from her. "Mind if I sit?"
Scarlett hesitated, then motioned with her hand. "Go ahead."
He slid into the seat, resting his arms on the table, gaze steady but soft.
"I guess we never really introduced ourselves properly," he said, extending a hand. "Jace Maddox."
Scarlett blinked, caught off guard by the formality. Then she smiled faintly and shook his hand. "Scarlett."
He nodded. "Nice to meet you… officially."
"I remember, sort of," she said with a teasing smirk. "I think you told me… but we were both very, very drunk."
"Yeah," he laughed. "That night was a blur. You told me about your ex and your awful taste in wine."
"Excuse me," Scarlett gasped playfully. "My wine taste is refined."
He chuckled, leaning back. "So what do you do, Scarlett?"
"I'm an architect," she said. "I work at a growing firm in Chicago. Mostly residential, but we're branching out. It's stressful… but worth it."
Jace raised a brow, impressed. "Nice. That explains the sketchbook and notebook you were clutching like they were life rafts the first time I saw you."
Scarlett smiled. "It's my world right now."
He nodded. "I get it."
She looked at him curiously. "What about you?"
"I'm a private security consultant," he said. "Former Marine. Did a few overseas tours, then got out a couple years back. I handle logistics, threat assessments, high-profile protection. That sort of thing."
Scarlett raised a brow. "That explains the posture. And how you scanned the room the second you walked in."
Jace gave a small smile. "Force of habit. I like to know where the exits are."
He studied her for a moment. "You told me, that night… your boyfriend slept with your best friend."
Scarlett blinked, the memory sharper than she expected. "You remember that?"
Jace gave a tight smile. "Hard to forget the girl who cried on my chest for two hours before passing out and then accidentally stole my hotel towel."
She laughed — genuinely this time. "Wow. You still have that towel?"
"I actually liked that towel."
Silence, but now warmer. Familiar.
Scarlett tilted her head. "You told me something too, remember?"
Jace exhaled. "Yeah. My girlfriend… slept with my boss."
"That's still the wildest thing I've heard," she said.
"I know," he sighed. "Had to switch jobs. Couldn't sit through Monday meetings with both of them pretending nothing happened."
Scarlett grimaced. "Ouch."
"Yeah."
Another pause.
Then Jace pulled out his phone slowly. "Listen. I'm not trying to be weird… but can I get your number?"
She blinked. "Why?"
He shrugged, gaze steady. "I don't know. We got drunk, slept together. But you're more than that night. Thought maybe… we could talk. Sober this time."
She studied him, then said softly, "Isn't it strange how two mistakes can feel like one right choice?"
He wasn't trying to flirt. Just giving a little space. Understanding.
She took his phone, typed her number, and handed it back.
Jace smiled. "Thanks."
Naomi returned, two drinks in hand. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Scarlett said. "Just talking."
Jace stood, giving a respectful nod. "Good seeing you again, Scarlett."
She smiled faintly. "You too."
He walked away.
Naomi slid a glass toward her. "So?"
Scarlett stared at the door. "That was the last person I expected today."
Naomi sipped. "And?"
"He asked for my number."
Naomi gasped. "Girl. You better not ghost that. The universe doesn't throw back hot one-night stands for nothing."
Scarlett rolled her eyes, grinning. "You're impossible."
Naomi raised her glass. "To impossible things."
Scarlett clinked hers. "And random second chances."
Scarlett took a sip of her drink, trying to steady her racing thoughts. Jace's presence lingered in the back of her mind — not in a way that made her dizzy, but in a way that made her aware of every small detail: the tilt of his jaw, the calm in his eyes, the quiet confidence he carried.
Naomi nudged her. "Stop staring like that. He's gone for now."
Scarlett rolled her eyes, smiling faintly. "I'm not staring."
"Uh-huh," Naomi teased. "You're thinking about him. Admit it."
Scarlett set her glass down, keeping her voice neutral. "Maybe. But that doesn't mean anything."
"Sure," Naomi said, smirking. "Keep telling yourself that while he's somewhere across the room pretending not to notice you."
Scarlett couldn't deny it. She had questions — lots of them. Who was this Jace beyond the night they'd shared? Was there a part of him that cared, or was he just… like her? Two people caught in a mistake that somehow didn't feel entirely like a mistake.
She leaned back, letting herself breathe, and tried to focus on something simple — like Naomi's ridiculous playlist choices — but the moment she looked toward the bar, Jace was there again. This time, he wasn't leaving.
He raised a hand slightly, just enough to acknowledge her, and Scarlett's stomach flipped.