Beautiful Mistakes

~Chapter 3~

She sucks in her bottom lip and nibbles on it a few times. I instantly imagine what it would feel like to have those lips on mine. I don't know what it is, but there's just something about her. It's been a while since I've felt this kind of instant attraction to a woman before. Focus, Gabe. She's a client.

"I'm Sydney. Nick Porter's sister."

I nearly choke on my breath. This can't be possible. How is she little Sydney? And what the hell is wrong with me for already picturing all the things I want to do with her? If Nick had any inkling of my lustful thoughts about his sister, he'd kill me — no questions asked. She's got to be at least fifteen years younger than me.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Daniels!" she says, misinterpreting my silence as annoyance.

She closes the folder, places it on the table, and stands up while smoothing down her dress. I really wish she didn't do that. This common, simple act, intended to make her more presentable, only serves to draw my eyes to her body like a magnet. She is not the Sydney Porter I remember. That Sydney was a lanky teenager, with arms and legs far too long for her growing body, and an obsession with One Direction. This Sydney is a grown woman with curves in all the right places, beautiful brown eyes with flecks of gold dancing in them, and a face that would give Helen of Troy a run for her money.

"I just — I wasn't expecting it to be you. I mean... I knew it was you — I just didn't know you were you. Oh, sugar honey iced tea! I've made a terrible first impression. Marilyn's going to kill me. Ugh, and now I'm rambling."

"Sugar honey iced tea? I can't say I've heard that phrase in a while." I finally crack a smile, and Sydney visibly relaxes.

"It comes out when I'm feeling frazzled. Can we do a redo?" She takes a deep breath and stretches out her hand. "Hi, Mr. Daniels, I'm Sydney from MANSA Events."

The way her mere presence is fueling a fire inside me, I don't trust myself to take her hand, but it's not like I can dodge this customary and professional gesture. "It's nice to see you again, Sydney," I say, as my hand swallows hers and I give a firm shake, lingering longer than I should. "And you can call me Gabe."

We stand there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, before she glances at our clasped hands. Reluctantly, I let go, and we both take our seats.

"Well, this is certainly a surprise," I say after ordering a Perrier from the server. "I vaguely remember Nick mentioned you were moving to New York, but running into you never really crossed my mind. No offense."

"None taken." She giggles and plays with a strand of her hair. "This place is about a hundred times bigger than back home. There, I couldn't go a day without running into the same person at least twice, whereas here, I don't think I've seen a single person more than once."

"That's New York for you. Surrounded by people and yet still feel completely isolated."

"It's been a culture shock for sure."

"So, how's it going? How've you been? I think the last time I saw you was at Nick's wedding."

"Has it been that long? That feels like forever ago."

"11 years or so, right? I had just moved here, and I had to fly back and forth a lot for all that wedding stuff."

Sydney nods and takes a sip of her drink. She still seems a bit nervous, and I worry it's from my initial reaction to her. It won't bode well for the gala if she's overly intimidated by me, and to be honest, it's not something I want. Any other client, yes, definitely. But I want her to feel comfortable with me, and not just because she's my best friend's sister.