Only The Beginning

Chapter Three

A/N I hope you're enjoying these sample chapters! 

Here is a picture of the lobby of the Lord Nelson Hotel in Halifax, which is the inspired setting for the Chestershire Suites. 

Melissa sat on the edge of the porcelain tub, her fingers gripping the cool surface. She held her breath and slowly began to count. One. Two. Three... She only got to four before she had to exhale. Then she took another breath. One, two...

The inhaler was in her lap. She didn't want to use it again. It wasn't like the Ventolin was addictive, but she hated being dependant on it. It made her feel weak, incapable. This latest bronchial spasm was brought on by Brooke. Her last words vibrated madly inside

Melissa's head like a swarm of trapped wasps.

Earlier at the pub, right after Melissa had finished the wine, Brooke had called since her texts were going unanswered. There was no disguising her patronizing tone over the cell phone. "Why didn't you text back? I thought something bad had happened! And now you're having lunch with him?"

Melissa had stood just outside the entrance, craning her neck around the crowd to check that Craig was still at the table. "It was the least I could do since I practically had to break his heart. And by the way, thanks for forgetting to tell me you had exchanged your real names!"

"What difference does that make?"

Melissa stayed quiet for a few beats. "Nothing, only I felt like an idiot when he thought I was you."

"Oops!" She laughed. "Sorry."

Craning her neck again, she saw the waitress had returned to her booth. The lunch was almost over. A panic rooted in the bottom of her belly began to spread outward. "It's okay," Melissa said. "He seems really nice." 

And he makes my knees weak when he smiles. And I can't stop imagining how his hands would feel. And all I want to do is hang up and go back to him.

There was a pause on Brooke's end, then she said, "What does he look like?" There was a salacious curiosity to her tone.

Melissa thought of those hypnotic blue eyes, staring her down as he invited her to his room. The idea of sex with this stranger was terrifying and thrilling at once. She cleared her throat and said, "Bald, tattoos, and a long, bushy beard." Melissa was struck by how easily the lie came out.

"Oh, my God!"

"And he picked his teeth with a toothpick," Melissa continued. "Right at the table in front of me." The lies triggered a sense of euphoria and she let out a small laugh.

Brooke burst out laughing. "I think I might vomit. I had virtual sexy times with that dude." She eventually caught her breath. "I was so right to skip that blind date," she said. Then without a break in stride she added. "Thanks, Mel. I totally owe you. I hope he understands. He seemed super sweet online, but I couldn't meet him in person...obviously."

"Of course," she replied quietly. A tiny bit of guilt began to needle its way into her chest.

"Imagine if I showed up in person to tell him we couldn't fool around? He would have been devastated. It would be like showing a starving person a three tiered chocolate cake and then giving them one of those digestive cookies instead. See? It was so much better coming from you."

"Because I'm a digestive cookie."

"No." She sighed. "God, you always take things so literally. Listen, hurry up and finish that breakup lunch. I may have a spot for you to see Mr. Donaghy this afternoon." Then she dropped her voice. "Unless you and Mr. Bushy Beard have plans to sex it up. Did he invite you up to his hotel room? Can you imagine?! As if. You've never done anything spontaneous in you life." Brooke laughed again and the vibration grated on Melissa's nerves. "He was pretty hot online... Oh! Maybe we can have a double wedding?"

Gritting her teeth, Melissa stayed quiet.

Brooke's laugh petered out, the silence grew awkward. "You know I'm joking." There was another sigh. "That's how I am, Mel. I'm not as good with words like you. Sorry. Are we okay?"

"Yeah." We've weathered the ultimate fight, Melissa thought. If they could make it through that catastrophe, they were meant to be best friends.

"I'll call as soon as I find out about Mr. Donaghy."

"Sure. And thanks."

"Of course, silly," Brooke said. "What are best friends for?"

The call ended with Melissa swallowed up in a fog of confusion. Brooke always had a way of making her angry, and then guilty for feeling angry in the first place.

When she made her way back into the pub, Brooke's comment about her upcoming wedding was enough to put knots in Melissa's stomach. She began to regret the steak and wine. Brooke will be the most beautiful bride, worthy of a magazine, smiling at everyone as she walks up the aisle. And Dex will be her handsome matching double—only staring at her.

You never do anything spontaneous.

Like steal someone's boyfriend? Melissa wanted to spit out. Or maybe having an online affair with a stranger? The confusion began to fade. With a deep-rooted bitterness fueling her courage, she marched up and looked Craig right in his big beautiful blue eyes and asked if they could have room service. His pupils actually dilated and a shiver cascaded down her spine.

This is what power feels like, she thought dizzyingly.

But now, she was in his hotel bathroom doing breathing exercises, surrounded by opulent fixtures and marble backsplash. Melissa pushed herself to standing and placed the inhaler on the counter by the sink. She did a quick inventory of her white blouse and black pencil skirt in the mirror. She wasn't exactly dressed for seduction. "I really am a digestive cookie," she whispered at her reflection. The sides of her mouth pulled down.

There was a gentle knock at the door. "Is everything all right?" Craig asked from the other side of the door. The sound of his voice set off a small cloud of butterflies under her ribs. "Just getting your Proust test ready," she said.

He chuckled on the other side. "I'm not sure if you noticed on the way up in the elevator but my knees were shaking the whole time. Still are, actually. I don't have any expectations; I just want to spend more time with you."

Melissa smiled. A wave of warmth spread over her. This gorgeous man was giving her his full attention.

Her, not Brooke. The epiphany was overwhelming.

There would be no comparison because he thought she was Brooke, his online lover. Melissa could do anything she wanted. Say anything she wanted. Act anyway she wanted...and there wouldn't be any ramifications.

And at once she didn't feel so much like a digestive cookie anymore. Melissa began to feel like the dessert that's kept under the glass cloche—special...appetizing. Her pulse kicked up. This was supposed to be Brooke's afternoon fling, but instead Melissa was the one being lusted after. And the satisfaction at taking away something that was Brooke's fueled her courage.

She wet her lips then fluffed her hair with her fingers, hoping to achieve that sexy tousled 'I just got out of bed after having great sex' look.

His voice came across again. "But if you'd rather leave..." He let the sentence trail off.

"No." She opened the door so quickly he jumped back. "I want to stay."