Read Chance (The One More Night Series) Online
Authors: Christina Ross
Chance (The One More Night Series)
| Chance (The One More Night Series) |
| Christina Ross |
| (2014) |
CHANCE
(The One More Night Series)
BY
CHRISTINA ROSS
Chance
, the first book in the
One More Night
series, is a full-length, stand-alone novel linked only by its characters.
Each book in the series ends with an HEA. If you enjoy the series’ female supporting characters—Brooke and Elle—you may follow them in their own books while revisiting characters from the previous books. Specifically, after
Chance
, Elle receives her own stand-alone book in
Aiden
. Soon, Brooke will enjoy a story of her own in
Eric
. If the series is popular, others will follow.
Chance
focuses on Abby and Chance’s relationship.
I hope you enjoy it!
*DPGROUP.ORG*
BOOKS BY CHRISTINA ROSS:
BELOW ARE THE U.S. LINKS FOR THE “ANNIHILATE ME” SERIES, KNOWN AS “CAPTIVE-MOI” IN FRANCE AND “UNTER FEUER” IN GERMANY.
ANNIHILATE ME, HOLIDAY EDITION
BELOW ARE THE U.S. LINKS FOR THE “UNLEASH ME” SERIES, KNOWN AS “PROTEGE-MOI” IN FRANCE.
CHANCE
AIDEN
ERIC
For my dear friends.
And my family.
And especially for my readers. I hope you enjoy Abby and Chance’s story.
Copyright and Legal Notice:
This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the author.
First ebook edition © 2014.
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental. Copyright © 2014 Christina Ross. All rights reserved worldwide.
CONTENTS
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CHANCE
By
Christina Ross
CHAPTER ONE
New York City
July
“I need six martinis, straight up, olives, one dirty. I also need three glasses of champagne and one Manhattan. And I have more coming, as if that’s a surprise. Look at this place. It’s crazy.”
The handsome, thirty-something bartender standing behind the bar looked at the people milling behind me and then shot me a look of concern. “How about if you take the martinis first, and then come back for the rest?”
I repositioned the black sequined mask that covered my eyes and damned it to hell. I could barely see out of it. I could see straight ahead without an issue, but when it came to my peripheral vision? The mask I’d been asked to wear for tonight’s masked ball was cutting it short. Too short. The room’s dim, amber lighting only worsened my sight issues.
“I wish I could, but I have another drink order right behind this one,” I said. “I knew this was going to be a big event, but I never expected anything like this. There must be five hundred people here, all wearing masks—and all about as blind as I am because of them. Let’s just say that when I signed up for this, I also should have signed up for hazard insurance.”
While he made the drinks, I pulled my long, dark hair away from my face, tossed it over my shoulders, and let it tumble down my back. I was wearing a simple, little black dress, as were the rest of the female servers.
“At least it’s cool in here,” he said. “It was over ninety today.”
“And it felt it. Where I live, my girlfriends and I check our air conditioner regularly to make sure it still has a heartbeat.”
“Student?” he asked.
“Grad. Columbia. Working toward my MA.”
“Good for you. What’s your name?”
“Abby.”
He started to shake the martinis in two silver cylinders on either side of his head. “Nice to meet you, Abby. Steve Martel.”
I smiled at him and decided that I rather liked his dimples. He was cute. “Abby Evans. Pleased to meet you, Steve.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since I came to the city—about a year ago. During the summer, I work whenever I can. During the school year, it’s pretty much the same, only with classes thrown in. But at least these sorts of gigs pay well. I’ll be able to meet the rent, which always is a bonus.”
“That it is.”
He poured out four martinis, made one of them dirty by adding a splash of olive brine, and then swiftly filled another cylinder to make the final two. As he started to shake the drinks, he leaned down and retrieved a bottle of champagne, likely from a refrigerator I couldn’t see, and placed it on the countertop.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“This kind of uppity crowd mostly wants martinis and champagne, so it’s not as if I’m dealing with a blizzard of mixed drinks, which would be a bitch. It’s hectic, but it is what it is,” he said. “No complaints—I’m happy for the job. Like you said, it pays the rent.”
“Indeed, it does.”
I looked around the room and tried to take in as much of it as possible, if only so I could have a better feel for it when I maneuvered into the crowd with the cocktails.
We were in The Plaza Hotel’s decadent Grand Ballroom, which looked as if it had been layered in gold leaf. Above me was a row of massive, crystal chandeliers that were impressive in their size and twinkling beauty. An orchestra played at the far end of the room where some people were waltzing. And then there were the guests—all here in an effort to help support additional funding for HIV research, a noble cause I admired them for. But what was it with the masked ball theme? I didn’t get it. Maybe it was just a society thing, which I knew zip about.
Still, the night’s theme offered a curious sight. Everyone was wearing a mask. They ranged from the tame for the men to the outrageously festooned for the women. The men wore black tie while the women were nothing if not a showcase of estate jewelry and either current or vintage couture.
Who lives like this?
I thought
. It’s another world. Another universe.
I was born into nothing—not that that had changed much since moving to Manhattan. My two girlfriends and I practically lived in squalor.
But just like Brooke and Elle, with whom I’d been best friends since childhood, I knew that things would change for us. I was as determined to have a better life as they were. That’s why we left Vermont for Manhattan—because of the opportunities it offered. Graduating from Columbia with strong grades and hopefully stronger contacts would get me far, even if my student loan debt already felt as if it was suffocating me.
“Just need to make the Manhattan,” Steve said. “After that, you’re good to go.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate all of your hard work, Steve.”
He dropped a cherry into the bottom of a low glass, reached behind him for a bottle of Crown Royal, and started to mix the drink. “You know this tray is going to be heavy, right?”
“I know it is, but what can I do? For some reason, there aren’t enough servers tonight. I need to hustle, or I’ll get fired, and I can’t afford that.”
“You can barely see out of that mask. I can tell.”
“It’s not so bad. At least I can see straight ahead of me.”
“I think you should come back for the rest.”
“I’ll be fine. While you were making the drinks, I was memorizing the room. I just need to cut through the crowds, remember who ordered what, and get the hell back here to give you my next order.”
He gave me a curious look before nudging the tray toward me and turning to the next server, who already was spilling out a massive drink order of her own.
* * *
In an effort to balance the tray better, I went into the crowd with the rim of it pressed against my torso. Steve was right—I was carrying too much. But despite the heaviness of the drinks and feeling like I had horse blinders on, I kept my focus and moved forward into the buzzing, laughing, tittering crowd.