Finding Her: A coming-of-age romance novel with a twist (Complements Book 1) Read online

  Finding Her

  a Complements Story, Book 1

  Lulu Astor

  Finding Her

  A Complements Story

  Book 1

  Contents

  Soundtrack

  Other titles by Lulu Astor:

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  A Note from the Author

  Other books by Lulu Astor:

  FINDING HER

  A Complements Story, Book 1

  Copyright © 2020 by Lulu Astor

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Lulu Astor or I, Sisyphus Publications. Please purchase or lend only authorized editions.

  ISBN

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. References may be herein contained to historical events and/or authentic locations; however, the names, characters, incidents, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner.

  Created with Vellum

  Soundtrack

  Jesus, etc. — Wilco (Daniel & Olivia’s song)

  Lonely Boy — The Black Keys (Daniel’s song)

  Daniel — Elton John

  No Way Back — Foo Fighters

  Californication — Red Hot Chili Peppers

  Other titles by Lulu Astor:

  Finding Him: A Complements Story, Book 2

  Between Us: The Complements Backstory

  Three and a Half Weeks

  My Heart to Fear: The Amazing Grace duet, 1

  But Now I See: The Amazing Grace duet, 2

  Oblivion: between black & white lie many shades of gray

  Oblivion: comeuppance

  Illegitimate, a Mafia novella

  Prologue

  I’ll make you a bet. I bet that the story I’m about to tell you is a love story like no other that you’ve ever read. Or heard. Or seen. Or lived.

  This is the story of a girl—me—who fell in love with a man—Daniel. But that is where the ordinary ends. The one thing I can promise you is that my story is unique.

  Ha. That’s probably the understatement of the century.

  Yes, there’s love, danger, and sex. Pretty much in that order. But that’s not the real story.

  This book is about my love: meeting him, falling for him, and then losing him. Most of all, it’s about finding him again.

  Finding Daniel.

  Come with me, and I’ll tell you an epic tale. Oh, and pass the popcorn.

  ~ Olivia Girardi

  Chapter 1

  The peal of the alarm clock is almost too subtle to rouse me from my deep sleep. Burrowing my face under the pillow, I try to ignore the soft yet insistent ding—but no go. It refuses to yield and stop bitching at me.

  With great effort I pry one eye open and check the time. Shi-oot. It’s already past eight. Derek must have set it, not knowing that I need more than an hour to get ready. I have an interview for a summer internship at ten and I need to shower, dry my hair, and get dressed—not to mention get there.

  I’m only sluggish for the first few minutes of conscious life, until the blood starts pumping. I climb into the shower, bracing myself for arctic water to cascade down on me and then remember I’m staying in Derek’s luxurious hotel suite. Mmm, hot water right out of the gate—an amenity unfamiliar to me. I live with my mom and stepdad in an old brownstone in Brooklyn Heights and in winter, my bathroom is Siberia: the thermostat is permanently stuck at eight so that’s when the heat first comes on. It takes at least a half hour to warm the house and water. One of the many joys of living in an old house—something’s always broken. But my mom is an antique fanatic so things will never change on that front.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m out of the shower and drying my long hair. Then it’s time to decide what to wear. Should I go corporate or hipster?

  Neither, I decide, and pull out a pair of black, fitted trousers, a white Oxford shirt with three-quarter sleeves, and overlay it with a form-fitting light gray J. Crew cardigan. My father had laughed at the amount of clothing I brought with me to his hotel. Lucky I did—now I have a choice. I don a borrowed strand of pearls from my mother and finish the outfit with my Jimmy Choo black high heels—also stolen from my mom. Assessing myself in the mirror, I’m satisfied with my efforts. I think I’ll make a decent impression.

  Once on the subway, I allow myself to relax a little. It’s 9:20 now and barring any unforeseen catastrophes, I’ll make it in plenty of time, might even have time to grab a Starbucks. On second thought, better not. I might spill some on my white blouse and in any case, I don’t want yucky coffee breath.

  Jason Black-Epps is the name of the man I’m meeting. The name sounds so imposing—either that or he’s British. I’ve just been in the UK, visiting my father for the Christmas holidays. I’m trying not to dwell on that trip, though. I met too many emotional hurdles while there.

  First, I began to actually like my father for the first time in my life on that trip. Well, love him, really.

  He and his wife Mia split up while my sister and I were visiting. I felt so badly when it came time to leave, knowing he’d be there in that creepy, haunted house all by himself. I tried to convince him to adopt a dog but he brushed it off, laughing. When I got home, I mentioned to my mom the possibility of sending him a puppy.

  “Olivia, Derek is the kind of man who drowns puppies, not cuddles them.”

  When she saw my scowl, she relented somewhat. “Honey, it’s never a good idea to just send a companion animal as a gift. Animals are a huge responsibility and it’s better to let Derek get himself a dog if he wants one.”

  “Okay, fine. Drop it.”

  She looked at me with the omniscient eyes of a mother. “Olivia, my darling, please don’t take on more worries. This is a time of your life that should be carefree and fun. Your father will not be lonely, trust me. A man with Derek’s looks and money is not going to be single for long—not even for ten minutes. I can guarantee it, sweetheart.”

  Whatever. Granted, I know my father is stupidly handsome, and I started to realize while I was visiting him that he’s kind of wealthy, bu
t he’s still my father and I don’t want to see him miserable. My little sister, Chess—short for Francesca—and I had a fantastic time with him and I want him to be happy. Now I miss him and wish he hadn’t left New York for the UK.

  Then there was the small matter of meeting Daniel Butler. He’s the one who’s truly wreaking havoc with my peace of mind.

  As soon as he pops into my head, I banish him. No. I will not go there.

  So caught up in my random thoughts, I almost miss my stop at Prince Street. White Elephant Design is located right on Broadway and I find it instantly. Now what? It’s only 9:35 and my appointment is not till ten. Should I go in early or will I look too eager?

  I decide to go in and use the extra time to fill out any applications and maybe chat with the receptionist, pick her brain about the company. I’d gotten the reference from my guidance counselor at Columbia where I’ll be attending classes in the fall. From the description it sounds like a perfect fit for me, plus, she basically insisted I interview for the job.

  The façade of the building is typical Soho red-brick 19th-century industrial, but as soon as I cross the threshold of the double doors on the third floor, my eyes wander around the most incredible space.

  Talk about cutting edge, the interior décor is museum quality. Un-freaking-believable. The walls are covered with what looks like gray suede but I’m guessing is a paint finish. The floors are highly polished cement and the lighting magical: tiny pinpoints of light shine down at different angles, diffuse only when reaching the floor. Most are white but around the perimeters are colored lights, pink and blue. The furnishings are all mid-century modern: black leather Barcelona chairs surround a waterfall table and a white settee sits coquettishly amid them—can you tell my mom is an antique buff? Anyway, it’s so, so pretty.

  At 9:50, after filling out the application and chatting with Bobbie, the bubbly blond receptionist, I’m called into Mr. Epps’ office.

  Jason Black-Epps is a Brit as suspected, and a nice looking one at that. He escorts me to the chair opposite his desk.

  “Please, have a seat, Ms. Girardi.”

  “Thank you—and please, call me Olivia.”

  While he peruses my résumé, I peruse him.

  He’s of average height, 5’9” I’d guess, and thin. Dressed all in black, but then, this is Soho and black attire is almost a req. His brown hair is long, nearly at his shoulders, and very shiny. He wears it parted on the side and behind his ears.

  “Your résumé is impressive for one so young. So you’re planning to study architecture, I see?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” I answer brightly.

  “You do know we’re a design firm but we don’t do architecture?”

  Shit, I think, and my face heats up. “No, I didn’t know, as a matter of fact. Your company was on a list of companies for architecture majors so I assumed…”

  “Well, you know what they say about assuming,” he retorts with a smirk.

  He glances up at me, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Are you still interested in working here? WED is a very cool company. Everyone, including the company owner, is under thirty years old with two exceptions: we have a forty-seven-year-old man and a thirty-nine-year-old woman. We call them our resident senior citizens and everyone has to take turns buying them lunch every Friday,” he adds with a smile.

  I reach for my black canvas messenger bag. “Honestly, it looks like a great company, it does, but I really have my heart set on getting experience with an architectural firm so, yeah, regrettably, I’ll have to decline. Thanks for meeting with me, though, and I apologize for taking up your time for nothing.”

  “Not at all. I wish you weren’t so insistent about architecture—I think you’d fit right in here. At WED we have a great mission. We take products that were designed decades ago, if not hundreds of years ago, and we reimagine them.

  “Think about it: isn’t it beyond absurd that some designs are so old—ancient, really—and no one has thought to improve upon them? Consider an ironing board, for example: is that design so indelibly perfect that no modern mind can improve upon it, I ask you? Really? And that’s where we come in.”

  I smile because he makes it sound so exciting. I guess the dude loves his job—that’s a good thing. “Um. Sounds really fun, but I still have to pass on it. Thanks, Mr. Black-Epps.” I pause. “Hey, that sounds like black ops—sort of, like, dangerous and cool.”

  He laughs, and even his chuckle seems to have a British accent. “I think so, too. Lovely to meet you, Olivia.”

  I stand and shake his hand, and he escorts me to his office door. “Good luck in finding the right one.” He whispers the last part exaggeratedly.

  I walk down the long hall, depressed. Now, most of the good jobs will probably be snapped up and I may not get one for the summer. I glance around at the suite of offices—it really is a cool place, I have to admit. Was I too quick to turn it down?

  As I walk past an office, I peek in and see three people conferring around a long white table. One of them, a man, looks familiar and as he glances up at someone, I see his profile and my stomach swoops down into an Olympic freaking dive.

  Perfect face. Golden brown hair. Broad shoulders. Beautiful clothes.

  Is it Daniel?

  Oh, no, please don’t let it be, I pray to the universe.

  There’s one way I can tell for sure. If he turns around and sees me, and an electric charge rockets through my body, I’ll know. But I’m not planning on waiting around for that to happen; I just keep huffing, my head down, eyes trained on my shoes.

  My body recognizes the truth though: my heart is thrashing violently because in my gut I know it’s him. It’s Daniel fucking Butler, the most unbelievably gorgeous man I’ve ever set eyes on—apart from my father, that is. Over six feet tall, brown hair kissed by twenty-four-karat, glittering green eyes, bronze skin, and a perfect, I mean perfect, physique. I met him while I was visiting my father in the UK over the holidays, two-plus months ago. Even though I knew a man like that would never in a million years be interested in me, I had somehow convinced myself that he was.

  And then one day he up and disappeared and I never saw or heard from him again. If that is Daniel in there, I’m so very glad I turned down the job.

  Close freaking call.

  I reach the front reception area, and as I stroll past the friendly receptionist, I have an idea. I stop in front of her. “Bobbie? Is there someone named Daniel Butler who works here, by any chance?”

  She looks at me as if I’m mentally deficient. “I’d say so. He owns the company.”

  “He owns it?” I didn’t expect that answer. After all, Daniel told me he was a freelance animator.

  “Yes,” Bobbie continues, “he owns it—among other things. And FYI, don’t even bother,” she says, flicking her hand down. “Even though he has this womanizing reputation, I’ve yet to see him show a flicker of interest in anyone and I’ve worked here for almost a year. Numerous girls just as beautiful as you have tried and failed miserably, believe you me.”

  She thinks I’m beautiful? I find I like this girl. I rap my knuckles on her desk. “Good to know. Well, I’ve got to be going. Thanks for everything.” I smile shakily and turn to leave.

  “Did you get the job?”

  “Uh-uh. I turned it down before it could even be offered to me. I have my heart set on working for an architectural firm. I’ve got to fly, Bobbie. Very nice meeting you.”

  I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got to get out of here so there’s no chance that Butler will see me. After the way he disappeared from the UK… well, I can take a hint.

  My hand is on the door handle when I hear a silky voice somewhere behind me.

  “Olivia?”

  Everything south of my navel shifts elements… and I know it’s him. I close my eyes in frustration. Shit!

  What should I do?

  There’s no escaping it, so I pivot around slowly and as soon as our eyes connect, my body is pu
mmeled with the almost-vicious jolt of electric current. Fuck, what is that all about anyway?

  Abruptly, my legs start trembling, and I feel sick to my stomach, remembering how I felt when my father told me Daniel was gone. I had been just getting to know him and…

  My life has been an emotional roller coaster for the last few months. Last September, my boyfriend of almost two years dumped me, and I was reeling from that rejection. I had just met someone new and promising—Jeremy Albright —when I had to leave to go visit my father and his wife in the UK. That’s where I met Butler. He was leasing an art studio in my father’s building.

  That entire trip I thought I might be losing my mind. I’d been having my dream—the erotic one—so much during those weeks, and then I’d just had a really strange one while napping on the plane.