This smells like trouble

“Holy. Balls,” Ash said, placing  her face directly in front of our window AC.

“Uggggh,” I groaned from my perch on the couch, fanning myself with the latest copy of US Weekly, emblazoned with the recent scoop on the Scott/Kourt break up. It was, arguably, the hottest day of the year and our ancient window unit stood no chance against the oppressive 101 degree heat. Has anyone ever noticed that movies romanticizing NYC always seem to take place in the fall or spring, when the city is bathed in perfect weather and gorgeous foliage? Never do they show the August New York—the gritty, humid, sweltering glam that comes with living in a place where every street is lined with trash, and central air is the rarest of commodities.

“We should flee,” I offer meekly, knowing that leaving means facing the heat head-on.

Ash gives me a stern look, as if I had suggested we go dumpster diving.

“We need food!” I add as a follow-up, “Our cabinets consist of ramen, wine and dried pea crisps.”

“We can survive on that,” Ash reasoned, turning her face back to the stream of cool air.

After a few minutes, I try again. “I’m restless,” I push.

“Fineee,” she caved, drawing out the ‘e’ to let me know she was really going against her will here. But let’s be honest, we were both ready to escape this tiny apartment. It was Saturday afternoon and we’d been holed up for nearly 24 hours. The lack of relationships in each of our lives had driven us both into a single-girl rut, and not the kind where you’re out drinking and partying every night. Sadly, it was the kind that whispered to us encouraging words about Netflix, HBO Go and way too much Seamless.

“I heard about this great tapas place in the FiDi,” I said, “We should check it out!” In spite of herself, Ash perked up at the mention of non-ramen entrees.

“I could get on board with that,” she said, folding her coltish legs beneath her and standing up. “What should we wear?”

“As little clothing as possible,” I replied, “It’s entirely too hot for anything else.”

As we got ready in our respective rooms, I heard Ashley’s voice carry over across the hallway. “Who told you about this place, anyway?”

“Just someone from work,” I heard myself fib. Not necessarily fib, he was a coworker, afterall.

I had felt the hope that he would be there growing inside of me as I had gotten ready. I knew it was a silly hope, given that the odds of seeing him here, now, at a place he had mentioned weeks ago were very slim. Yet that hope was the reason I’d chosen to wear a black razorback crop top paired with a striped asymmetrical skirt that I knew clung to me in all of the right places. I’d added sea salt spray to my already curly hair, and three coats of mascara. Arguably too much for a tapas happy hour, but justifiable at the prospect of seeing him.

Against all odds, he was the very first thing my eyes saw when we walked in. At 6’3”, he wasn’t hard to spot. The fire in my cheeks that crept like tendrils down to my stomach was insuppressible when I saw his towering frame by the bar. I clutched Ash’s arm instinctively, craving the reassurance of my best friend, forgetting she knew nothing.

“What?” she asked me, glancing from my death-like grip on her forearm to my face.

“Nothing,” I said, releasing my grasp and smoothing my skirt. “I just saw a coworker and was caught off guard.”

She gave me a look, but in that moment Jon caught my eye from across the crowded restaurant. His entire face broke into a genuine grin and I knew, not for the first time, that I was in trouble. He strode over in his easy, confident way. I ached.

“Hey Danielle,” he said, placing one strong hand on my lower back while leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi!” I replied. Smooth. He looked expectantly at Ashley. “Oh, Jon this is my roommate, Ashley,” I said, gesturing to each as I spoke. “Jon works in the finance department at Arabella,” I added.

“Always great to meet a friend of Dani’s,” Jon said, shaking Ashley’s hand. I took secret pleasure at his use of Dani over Danielle.

“What are you ladies up to this afternoon?” he asked.

“Just escaping the insufferable heat of our apartment,” Ashley replied. Personally, I would have gone with something along the lines of we were extremely important and in high demand, and swung by here in between social engagements, but that’s just me.

“Well, I’m with a few friends over there,” he gestured with his head to a group of men situated at a high top by the bar. “If you’d like to join.”

“We’d love to,” Ashley replied, while I simultaneously thanked her and tried to resist the urge to throw up.

“Great,” he said, his face breaking into that ache-inducing grin. He casually slid his arm around my back and navigated me to his group of friends.

An hour later, I was engrossed in conversation with Jon and his friend from when they were in grad school, Tim. Tim was the co-founder of a start-up, and was reciting to me the many reasons Jon should leave Arabella and come work with him.

"...plus, at a start-up, we all kind of make our own schedules. Which is perfect for Jon since he and the wife will probably start popping out babies soon!" 

My eyes remained fixed on Tim, not daring to flicker in Jon's direction. I didn't want him to see the heat that crept up my cheeks whenever I was reminded of his marital status. 

Perhaps I should regress. 

Back in the spring, after I had been at Arabella for a few months, I had started to take notice of a ridiculously sexy man in the hallways. His gaze always held mine a beat too long—and I was instantly curious.

I started poking around until I found out that he was in our finance department. I ended up formally meeting him at a company happy hour, at which we spent the subsequent hour after shaking hands talking at the bar about anything and everything. From there, we started grabbing lunch once in a while, and taking strolls outside when the weather was too nice to be chained to our desks. We texted occasionally, usually innocent things about inside jokes or office gossip. Nothing had happened, and I knew with his wife it never could. But that didn't stop the unreasonable flush I felt everytime he was near me.

"Well," I said, bringing myself back to the present. "It sounds like a great chance. Jon, maybe you should leave corporate America and head into the start-up world!"

"Corporate America? Dani, a dog peed on the conference table in the middle of a meeting last week, I wouldn't call Arabella the most corporate," he grinned. I melted.

"How about another round?" Tim asked. Before I could answer, he had already started navigating his way to the bar.

"So, do you live close by?" I asked. He had always said he lived in the FiDi, but the part of me that had a massive crush on him wanted to know where.

"Yeah, just down on water street," he said, downing the last of his beer. "I love this area. It's also convenient, since the wife's parents are in Jersey and we can easily take the ferry over from Wall St."

I nodded, hating that he dropped her into conversation, and hating myself even more for hating it. 

Just then, I felt Ash's clammy hand wrap around my upper arm. "Hey guys," she interjected. 

"How's Henry?" Jon asked, nodding comically toward his very drunk friend who had been monopolizing Ashley for the past hour. 

"Henry might as well be a walking bottle of Hendricks," Ash said with a slight laugh, effectively portraying that she wasn't upset over his drunken antics. "But D, I'm about ready to head out. Do you want to come?" 

I pondered this. I could stay, alone, and hang out with Jon. But then I saw a vision of myself having to take the subway home alone after he inevitably left me to go home to his wife, and the picture was too sad to imagine playing out in real life. 

"Sure," I replied, reaching for my envelope clutch. I turned to Jon. "It was great running into you," I said, biting the inside of my cheek. 

"We should make it be on purpose next time," he said, wrapping his left arm around my back in a half-hug. I pressed by body too close to his, the wine making me braver than I should be.

, 

I said my farewells to his other friends and we headed out into the now-cooler New York evening.

"You. Little. Slut." Ashley said as we hit the sidewalk, punching me lightly in the arm. "You're totally having an affair with your married coworker!" She let out a loud squeal for effect.

I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Please, Ash. I'm the last person in the world who would have an affair."

"I saw what I saw. I can't believe you didn't tell me about him! He's gorgeous."

She didn't have to tell me twice.

"Let it go!" I said with a laugh. I hadn't told Ash before now, because I didn't want it to feel real. As long as I never said it out loud, I could pretend it was a small crush that didn't mean anything. If no one else knew, it could remain just that—a crush.

She gave me a stern look. "Hey, I'm definitely not one to talk," she said, referencing her past of cheating on the regular when she was with Steve. "But just...be careful. This smells like trouble."

She couldn't have been more spot-on.

Would it never cease?

I tried to twist my body in a way that my dangling bucket bag would swish past the scanner, praying my work ID was somewhere close to the side. I wiggled like this a little longer, juggling a Lululemon bag containing my lunch, a hot coffee and my laptop precariously before finally hearing the hushed click that informed me the door was now open. Hoisting my laptop onto the coffee-carrying arm, I pulled open the heavy door into Arabella’s offices. Even though I'd been there for two months, I still marveled every morning at the whimsical, quirky space filled wall-to-wall with clothing samples.

Navigating my way to my desk, I deposited my bounty and started up my mac, plugging my laptop into the side. While it booted up, I headed into the kitchen to put away my lunch.

“Morning Danielle,” our Director of Creative Concepts greeted me as she strode past.

“Hi Gwen!” I chirped. No matter how early I got in, she still managed to beat me to the office. I was beginning to think she and her seven-month pregnant belly slept here.

I stashed my boring salad in the fridge, gazing longingly at all of the other lunches that would be eaten later today. I spied pad thai, leftover lasagna and some sort of stir fry situation. I could feel my stomach glaring at me for my most recent diet. But hey, when you’re pursuing a new guy, you’ve gotta look your best.

Slipping back to my desk, I was greeted with 15 new emails in the short time since I checked on my phone at 6:30 a.m. As Platform had continued to drown throughout the end of winter and early spring, I had finally accepted it was time to get serious about finding a new job. As much as I had loved working there, the nightmares about being laid off and unable to pay rent began to crepe in. The idea of having to go about finding another job and most likely accepting one I didn’t even want for the sake of an income had scared me straight into a full-on job hunt. Which is how I had ended up as a Community Manager at Arabella. I was excited when they finally made me an offer, after enduring four rounds of grueling, tiresome interviews.

Going from a fashion magazine to a fashion brand seemed like a swift transition at the time—but I couldn’t have been more wrong. The first few weeks had been tough trying to erase all of my training in producing fresh content hourly and replace it with something new. At a brand, I learned, you created content months in advance, only worrying about your own label. I no longer had to write pieces on who Kendall Jenner was most recently spotted with—instead, I was crafting stories where writing style actually mattered and the focus was purely on the brand’s esthetic—fashion, style advice, decorating tips and everything in between. It was a whole new ballgame—but I was loving it. It didn’t hurt that Arabella’s social following was more than two million larger than Platforms, either.

“Morning!” Emma, my coworker and closest Arabella confidant, said as she swished past me looking effortlessly fabulous as usual. She was wearing high waisted flared jeans, wooden wedges and a split-back white tee. Her brunette bob had that I-woke-up-like-this ruffle and her Marc Jacobs sunglasses were perched on top of her head. For the first few weeks, I had hated her. I was intimidated by her style, experience in fashion and ease at completing every task thrown her way. But as time wore on and I forged my own path and role within our department, I realized that Em wasn’t the intimidating human I had built her up to be. Shortly, she had started turning to me for tips and we began to learn from each other, always keeping one another in the loop about projects, ideas and stories. In short, I absolutely adored her.

“Hey!” I said, returning my gaze to Hootsuite to sift through all of last night’s incoming mentions on Twitter. “Have you looked at Twitter? We got like, fifty tweets about how we’re allegedly racist for selling this tunic,” I said, swiveling my screen so she could see the image. “It’s literally not even ours.”

Em rolled her eyes, “It’s always something,” she said, draping her bag over the back of her chair.

By 9 o’clock, I had finished catching up on all overnight social media and was heading over to the couches for our standing morning meeting. Our office space was open and airy, and conference rooms were few and far between. Instead, Arabella chose to set up intimate spaces where people could gather and share ideas, usually decorated with casual hanging plants, trees and paper mache bumble bees. It sounds weird, but it worked.

“Okay Danielle, let’s keep this under five minutes I have to touch base with the dev team at 9:15,” our director said to me by way of greeting. I nodded as everyone pulled up that day’s scheduled messaging on various computers and iPads, and talked through them one by one, outlining which needed creatives, which posts needed to be sponsored and at what time I planned each to go live. I’d never been micromanaged like this at Platform, but here we shared every social post in advance save for the of-the-moment engagement that happened all day long. It made sense, considering brands like us were constantly on the homepage of Buzzfeed for some social faux pas or another.

“Let’s swap the timing of the third and fourth Instagrams, and make the second more of an engagement angle,” Gwen said, before nodding sharply. “Everything else looks good.” With that, the meeting was over. Just one minute longer than she had requested.

The rest of the morning went by in a flash, as days often did at this job. I was trying to finish up a post about how to take your denim from summer to fall when out of the corner of my eye, I saw my phone light up. I quickly glanced at it while still typing away. I saw that it was his name that was lighting up my screen with a text message, and I immediately scolded my stomach for having butterflies.

Would it never cease?

**Hey guys, so SO psyched to be back! I have a couple posts queued up so you'll be hearing from Dani every Wednesday, until I can up it back to 2x/week. As for the blog redesign, that'll be popping up shortly! xoxo

Launch Date...

Hi all!

Just wanted to give you an official date to look forward to for blog redesign + new post! 

See you back here Wednesday, August 12 :) Now go enjoy soaking up these last summer rays (don't kill me for referencing the end of summer. I'm sorry!). 

xoxo 

out of the woodwork... part 2

First off, can I just hug you all? I can't believe so many of you responded so quickly! I laughed out loud at some of these comments.

As for the haterzz, I get where you're coming from. It's definitely frustrating to not hear back at all, but I never knew what to say! I started a new (very overwhelming) job in December which coincided with the holidays and a loss in my close family. I spent the winter working my butt off at work while still trying to focus on my personal relationships, and sadly this blog took a back seat to all of that.

I feel like I finally can breathe again and have the time to commit to this fully, but I wanted to see if anyone was even still checking back. Happily, you are! 

I want Dani's story to pick up in present day (LOL at Chris for suggesting a coma, that'd be hilar). I also want to give this blog a little facelift, so can you give me two weeks to get a few posts in the works and handle a blog redesign?

xoxo

out of the woodwork

Hi all!

I know that you probably completely don't trust me after that massive hiatus, but I really do miss blogging and, most of all, you! I wanted to reach out and see if I started up again (1/week to start), would you still be there, dear readers? I wouldn't blame you one bit if you'd abandoned me at this point.

Let me know in the comments if you'd be willing to jump headfirst back into Dani's life with me, or if we should just part ways and remain cordial friends who send Christmas cards and politely nod when we're attending the same wedding.
xoxo

Back to 2013

In the weeks following New Year's Eve, Nick and I became inseparable. It was like a switch had flipped, sending us hurtling us back into 2013. After the New Year's kiss, he had explained to me that his producers had been pushing him and Hadley to get together, but he told me that he didn't have any feelings for her. I was skeptical at first but within a short few days we were spending nearly all of our free time together - and all of my worries had vanished. Ashley and Trevor had been hot and heavy as well, and the four of us had formed our own little gang that spent nearly every evening hanging out.

"Hey you," I said to Ash when I returned home from work exhausted on Thursday evening. I plopped down on the couch without even removing my jacket. 


"How was your day?" I asked, while scrolling absentmindedly through my Instagram feed. 

"Fine, boring. Work is slow this time of year," she replied, scarfing down the last of her dinner. "Are you going to the guys tonight?" 

"I think so," I replied, unzipping my jacket. "You?"

She shook her head, "No, Trev is working late."

I nodded and continued scrolling Instagram. 

"Dani?" Ash asked a few minutes later.


"Hmm?" I replied without looking up from the Cosmo photo of a shirtless man I was ogling.

"Do you think that maybe.. you and Nick are moving a little too fast?" she asked. 

I didn't immediately answer. It wasn't as if this hadn't occurred to me - I had been spending so much time with him any sane person would have questioned it. I was actually surprised it had taken Ashley so long to say something. Ever the outspoken one, keeping things to herself was not one of her stronger traits. 

I sighed. "I mean, I don't know. I'm not rushing to date him or anything, I'm just having fun," I said, repeating the same words I had been telling myself every time I took a pause and assessed the situation. Fun. It was always my excuse when it came to Nick. 

"But.. you don't think that maybe he's like.. a rebound?" she asked. 

I was ready for this one too. Of course it would look like a rebound. Jumping into the arms of my ex a few weeks after breaking up with Dylan. 

"I don't know Ash.. maybe. But there's no black and white answer to that." 

She seemed to accept this. "Okay.. as long as you're aware of it. I just don't want you to regret anything."

"I won't," I said, trying to swallow the more defensive things that I wanted to say. I knew she was just looking out for me, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. 

"I have to go pack," I said, getting up and heading to my room. Once inside I grabbed a pair of white jeans, booties and a gray sweater for work the next day, tossed some makeup in and texted Nick.

Leaving now

I slung the bag over my shoulder and headed out the door. 

"I'll see you after work tomorrow," I said to Ash as I headed out. 

"Wait," she said. I turned to her, one hand on the doorknob. I faced her and waited expectantly.

"I wasn't trying to call you out before, I don't care what you do or who you do," I smirked at this, "so long as you're happy. I'm just lookin' out," she said. 

I laughed. "I know, and I love you for that. I'll see you tomorrow."


A few minutes later, I was knocking on Nick's door. Even though it had been more than a month since we had started seeing each other again, it still shocked me each time I returned to his place that I was here again. Both literally and figuratively.

"Hey gorgeous," he said, swinging open the door in nothing but a pair of gym shorts. He leaned in and gave me a long kiss, removing the bag from my shoulder and ushering me in. I held on an extra moment, absorbing his warmth. God damn these New York winters.

"Hungry?" he asked, dropping my bag on the couch.

"That depends," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist. "For food or for you?"

He laughed, but kissed me anyway. I felt heat shoot down from my lips to my toes, and I leaned in further to him. 

"I made fajitas," he said between kisses, giving my ass a squeeze as he pulled away. 

I shrugged off my coat and headed toward the delicious smell. 

"Steak?" I asked. 

He smiled, draping his arm around my waist and pulling me close as he stirred a pot of peppers and onions. It still amazed me how much his body had changed since starting the show. They had hired him a personal trainer and it was definitely showing. Not that he hadn't been something to write home about before, but now he looked more like a Calvin Klein model than a regular guy.

"Of course," he said. "Grab it out of the oven?"

I grabbed an oven mit and pulled the filet out, setting it on the stove.

"Anything else I can do for you sir?" I asked.

"That'll be all, sous chef," he replied and started fixing us some plates. 


After the delicious dinner, we were laying in his bed watching the last few weeks' worth of New Girl episodes. 

"It amazes me that Nick and Jess are so normal after breaking up," I said, nuzzled into the nook between his arm and his chest. 

"Yeah, but that's TV for you," he replied, absentmindedly stroking my hair.

"Speaking of," I said, hoisting myself up so that we were facing each other. "Are you guys doing a second season?" 

When I was still with Dylan, it had been easy to think of Nick as the same person he had always been - humble, goofy and, all in all, mine. He was always my Nick. But now after doing that show he seemed to be everyone's Nick. It was rare that we could go out and not have someone recognize him, throwing a comment I didn't understand his way since I hadn't watched the show. At bars and restaurants I always kept my distance, not wanting a picture to surface on the internet that would cause speculation. It was fun at first, seeing Nick in this new way. But after a while I just wanted to stay home and think of him as the same person he had been before this all began. 

"We haven't heard yet if it's been picked up," he said, not tearing his eyes away from the screen. 

I settled back into his chest and tried not to think about it. Even though I wasn't anywhere near ready to date him, I also had no desire to share him with all of America.

The slam of the front door pulled me out of my thoughts. I heard Trevor's voice, muffled through the walls of the apartment. I started to get back into the scene Jess was causing with an airport employee on the TV when I heard a second voice coming from the living room, this one definitely not Trevor's. 

"Who is that?" I asked, turning to Nick. 

"Trevor.." he said.

I rolled my eyes, "The girl."

Just then, a distinctive girl's giggle drifted through the walls. 

"Ashley?" he shrugged, seemingly completely ignorant. 

"She would have texted me, and I would recognize her voice," I said, climbing out of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Nick asked, a trace of humor in his voice. 

"Finding out who that is," I said, grabbing a pair of his sweats and throwing them on.

"Dani, don't make it weird," he said.

"How would I make it weird?" I said. 

He looked pointedly at my outfit. "You're going to run out there in my clothes and accuse him of cheating on your friend?" 

I turned on my heel and headed down the hall without answering. I could hear Trevor and the mysterious girl talking in the living room. Ever the genius, I decided to pretend I was grabbing a glass of water and that I hadn't even heard them walk in.

As I sauntered into the kitchen, I cast a side-eyed glance into the living room where I could see them sitting on the couch. 

"Oh! Hey Trev," I said, reaching into the cabinet for the glass. 

"Hey D," he said, standing up. He was still in his work clothes and next to him sat a skinny blonde girl who looked barely legal. "This is my coworker, Lauren," he said, gesturing to the teenager.

"Hello," I said, giving her an overly-nice smile. "I'm Dani." 

"Hi," she said in a high-pitched voice, unmoving from her perch on the couch. 

"What are you two up to?" I asked, sipping on the water. I hadn't bothered to look when I turned on the faucet and it was scalding hot. 

"We grabbed some drinks after work with a few people in our department," Trevor said, looking uncomfortable. 

"Fun," I replied flatly. I was debating how to interject Ashley into the conversation without being obvious when I heard Nick coming down the hall.

"Dani?" he said, coming into the kitchen. "Hey man," he added, doing the standard boy-nod to Trevor. "Coming to bed?" he asked, returning his attention to me. 

"Mmmhm," I replied, casting one last meaningful smile at Trevor, I followed Nick back into his room like a puppy who had just been caught eating the furniture. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, falling back into bed. 

"He's cheating on Ashley with a middle schooler!" I said. "And you didn't introduce yourself to her, which means you know her, so start talking mister."

"Yes, she's his coworker," he said. 

"Is he hooking up with her?" I accused. 

"No! He's with Ashley," Nick said, sounding exasperated. 

"Then how do you know her, and why is she here at 11:00 on a Thursday?" 

"She lives nearby and probably has a crush on him, I don't know," Nick said. "All I know is you're ridiculous, but you sure can pull off those sweatpants." He reached for me, pulling down the sweats and dragging me back to his side. 

I returned his kiss and sunk down into the bed, all thoughts of Trevor evaporating from my mind.

Cause You're The Only Thing I Know

On New Year's Eve, our offices closed at noon and I found myself heading home by 2 p.m. I lingered for a while, not wanting to skip out right at the strike of 12 since everyone was proving themselves at work these days. Instead, I mapped out our Instagram calendar through March and submitted a few project briefs to the photo department for things they wouldn't even need to look at for another few months. Elena was coming over at 7:00, so I had five empty hours stretching in front of me. I decided to use them to primp, since what else is a gal to do when she's alone before a night out? I headed to Duane Reade and picked up a face mask, hair mask, new nail polish and wine. 

Once home, I spent the next few hours primping, napping and watching TV. There was a marathon on of Nick's show (all six episodes of it), which I avoided. I had never gotten around to watching the season past the pilot, and I had no intentions of it. I knew it would somehow shift my relationship with him which was already complicated enough. Instead I settled for mindless hours of the Kardashians. By the time 7:00 rolled around I was shaved, lotioned, plucked and polished to perfection. 

"Hey you!" I said as I swung open the door for Elena. She looked killer in a sequin mini dress that hung loose and ended abrubtly less than halfway down her model-worthy thighs. Her hair was piled in a messy top knot and she had added a bold red lip. "You look fantastic!"

"Thanks!" she said, pulling me in for a hug. "So do you."

I had settled on a black lace dress which was conservative in the front, but had an entirely open back. I left my hair down and wavy, adding only delicate gold earrings and a smoky eye. 

We made our way to the kitchen to sip on wine before leaving.

"So are you going to kiss Nick at midnight?" she asked, as I was swigging my Pinot.

I gave her a wide-eyed look in response. "No way!" 

"Oh come on," she berated me, giving me a firm stare. "You're single now."

"Ah that's right, I had forgotten," I replied with an accompanying finger snap.

"Speaking of, have you talked to Dylan at all lately?" 

I nodded slowly, almost ashamed at the memory. In a moment of weakness two nights ago, I had broken down and called him under the guise of asking if i had left one of my necklaces there (I hadn't, the one I described to him was safely in a dish on my dresser), when in reality I had just wanted to hear his voice. We had ended up talking for almost 15 minutes and by the time we hung up I was alarmed at the giddy sensation I felt. As I rehashed the story to Elena, I felt the same butterflies in my stomach at the memory of the way he had made me laugh.

When I finished, she sighed loudly. "To be honest, you've done a pretty solid job of breaking up until that call. I don't know if it is because you're in different cities, but one little phone call doesn't mean that you want him back," she said.

"I know," I replied, refilling my glass and topping off hers as well. "It just felt dumb. He texted me today, asking about my plans for tonight."

"What did you tell him?" 

"Just that I was going to a friend's apartment," I replied. "He didn't push further."

"Did you ask what he's doing?" she pressed.

"Nope," I said. "I didn't want to hear anything that rhymes with Schmara." 

Elena looked puzzled.

"Kara," I clarified with a small smile at how slow she could be for such a smart gal.

"Ohhh!" she replied with a laugh. "True."

After a few more minutes, we touched up our makeup and headed out the door, slightly tipsy. Emboldened by the wine and fancy clothes, for a fleeting moment I felt like the night could really be a fresh beginning. I linked Elena's arm as we hailed a cab fairly easily and gave the driver Nick's address. 

Walking into the apartment was as familiar as always, although it was packed to the brim with people; everyone looking totally vogue-worthy. Suddenly, I felt out of place in my Top Shop dress and DSW heels. 

"What is this, all of Nick's famous friends and their model girlfriends?" Elena whispered sharply into my ear, speaking aloud the exact thing I was thinking. I gave her a shrug and made a beeline for where I knew they usually set up the makeshift bar. I scanned the room for Nick, but only found Trevor.

"Dani!" he called, spotting me at the exact same time. I grabbed Elena's hand and weaved through the crowd towards him. 

"Happy New Year!" he bellowed, clearly feeling the buzz already. He enveloped me in a huge hug before pulling away. "Who's your friend?" he asked, looking pointedly at Elena.

"This is Elena, I think you two have met before," I said, knowing that they had definitely met on more than one occasion. Classic Trevor. 

"Hi Trevor," Elena said, clearly not amused. 

He grinned, "Sorry, I'm not great with names. I promise to remember you now," he gave her a wink. 

"Bummer that Ash couldn't come," I interjected, uncomfortable with the way he was looking at Elena. 

"I know," he said, "Can't wait until she gets back. So have you seen Nick yet?" 

"Nope," I said, "We just got here."

"Well then, you need a drink!" he announced, and before he had even finished the sentence he was herding us towards the bar. I gave Elena an apologetic look. 

"He's had a few too many already," I joked. I felt guilty for dragging Elena out tonight and was desperate to show her a good time. 

Once we both had dirty martinis in hand (they had hired an entire bartending service to host the event), we did a slow rotation of the room. After years of dating Nick, I knew a couple of people there and before I knew it two hours had passed, still with no sign of Nick. 

"Bathroom?" Elena asked, and I nodded, excusing us from a conversation with two friends from college. We headed down the narrow hallway only to find a line five girls deep waiting to use it. 

"Shit," Elena said, looking at me pathetically. "I've had to pee for like an hour now." 

I grabbed her arm and steered her through the line. Nick had a bathroom attached to his bedroom, which I assumed none of the others knew about. I pushed open the door and stopped suddenly. It hadn't occurred to me that Nick would be in his room. But there he was, sitting side by side on the bed with the girl I presumed to be Hadley. Their faces were close and his arm was draped lazily across her waist, so naturally that it couldn't be the first time it had found its way there. Her shiny brown hair cascaded down her back and even sitting I could tell she had a solid five inches on me. My heart sank, and I wasn't entirely sure why. 

"Sorry!" I yelped, trying to navigate my way backwards in four-inch heels. 

"Dani..." Nick said, jumping up as if he had been caught.

"Sorry, really, we were just going to use the bathroom," I muttered. I could feel the hot rush of blood to my cheeks as I started to close the door. 

"Oh my god," I said breathlessly once Elena and I were safely outside the room.

"Whoops," Elena said while clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "That was awkward. You looked like a baby gazelle trying to wobble out of there backwards."

I softly punched her in the shoulder. "Oh go get in line with the commoners," I said, steering us back towards the bathroom line.

After the bathroom, I immediately found my way back to the bar. Giving the bartender my most charming smile, I sweetly asked for a Patron shot. 

"Patron?" Elena asked. "Bold."

"You're doing it with me," I demanded, handing her one of the plastic shot glasses filled with clear liquid. 

She shook her head, but conceded. "What are we cheersing to?" 

"Well, we're twenty-somethings in New York, living the dream, aren't we?" I said, feeling the booze. 

"You've been watching too many episodes of Girls," Elena said, clinking her glass to mine. After she downed her shot, she gave me a wide-eyed look, while glancing over my shoulder.

"What?" I asked, signaling the bartender for another martini. 

She continued to gesture wildly with her face and neck and before I could call her out on her insanity, I felt an arm snake slowly around my waist. 

"Hey there," Nick said, his breath hot on my neck. 

I turned towards him, "Hey". 

"Sorry about that," he said, pulling back. "Hadley had me cooped up in there discussing show stuff."

"Hadley?" I asked, feigning ignorance. 

"Um yeah, that girl I was with in my room, she's a co-star," he said. 

"Oh," I replied, keeping up the facade that I had never ever googled him (I always, always googled him). 

"Are you guys having fun?" he asked. 

"Yeah," I replied, looking to Elena. "Great party." 

Nick looked uncomfortable at my short replies, and I couldn't explain why but I enjoyed watching him squirm. I looped my arm in Elena's and started to walk back into the crowd. 

Once we had been swallowed by the crowd once again, I released the breath I had been holding. 

"Okay, I'm no expert but you two have more sexual chemistry than Anastasia and Christian," Elena said.

"First off, stop re-reading 50 shades, secondly, he has a girlfriend - clearly." 

"He said co-star," she said. 

"Co-star, bang buddy, whatever," I said, downing half of my martini. "What time is it?"

"11:40," Elena said. 

"This is depressing," I replied. 

She nodded. "I'll kiss you at midnight?" 

I laughed, "Thank you." 

A few people had started dancing to Take Me Home by Cash Cash, and I drug Elena into the middle. I was officially drunk. 

After a few more songs, Elena was dancing close to a strange man and I was drunkely giving her the thumbs up. Midnight was quickly approaching and at least one of us would get a midnight kiss. I was half-heartedly dancing with a guy I knew from college, Ben, when I heard everyone begin to chant. 

"10....9.....8!" 

I guess kissing Ben wouldn't be worse than kissing no one, I reasoned, draping my arms around his shoulders. 

"7...6....5!" 

I smiled at Ben, fully prepared to kiss him when I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and pull me back. Ben's confused and angry expression was soon replaced by Nick's face, close to mine. 

"What are you..?" I didn't finish my sentence. I heard the echos of "Happy New Year!" bellowing around me and Nick's lips were on mine. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist and I arched my back to fall into him. It was so familiar and so electric all at the same time.  

One Month Later...

I sat on the couch, flipping between one bad reality TV show and the next. Glancing at my ever-silent phone, I saw that it was barely 9 p.m. With Ash gone for two weeks on vacation with her fam, (#Eurotrip), the lull between Christmas and NYE was painfully lonely. The bursting Christmas cheer that practically spilled out of every edge of NYC for the past month was slowly tapering off, and the city had never felt lonelier.

I reached for my phone again and scrolled mindlessly through Instagram, reaching for the glass of wine that had sat half-drank next to me for the past hour. I was bored. Since Dylan and I had broken up I’d felt restless, and that combined with the chaos at work had left me feeling unsettled for weeks.

Being home for Christmas hadn’t been the welcome distraction that I’d been hoping for. The whole four days I was in Philly I was painfully aware of how easily I could hop in my car and see Dylan. Even though the breakup had been mostly mutual, I knew that seeing him would be a bad idea.

I pulled up our string of texts in my phone to re-read them, something that I had done all too frequently these days. Our last exchange was Christmas morning, a simple “Merry Christmas” that he had instigated. Before I'd boarded my train down to Philly on the 24th, he'd asked to see me while I was home. I had made up excuses about a schedule jammed with family dinners and reunions with old friends, trying to keep my distance. I had felt it in my bones after Thanksgiving that as much as I liked Dylan, we just weren't meant to be. The relationship had become defined by more troubles than triumphs. So after a long afternoon, we'd ended it and I hadn't seen him since. Which hadn't stopped him from trying to win me back, albeit fairly pathetically, but his attempts had tapered off as the weeks wore on. So now here I was, single again, temporarily roommate-less, possibly soon-to-be jobless and currently, a little bit drunk. #winning.

Luckily since the holidays were upon us, things had settled down a bit at work. We hadn't heard much talk about the possible layoffs, but everyone had been working their asses off to prove that they were worth keeping. A few people even cancelled long-awaited vacations, not wanting anything to happen while their backs were turned.

As for Gathr, they had thanked me for the interview but hadn't asked me back in. When I asked Jeff about it, he informed me that they had stopped the interviewing process all together, apparently wanting a firm job description in place to properly assess candidates. He told me to sit tight until the new year, but with everything else going on I wasn't as consumed by the rejection as I would have normally been.

As I got up from the couch to fetch a vino refill, my phone pinged with a text. Glancing over, I saw that it was Nick. Ever since Dylan and I had broken up, Nick and I had been texting more frequently. Although I hadn't actually told him I was single, I had a feeling he knew. And even though he hadn't mentioned it, I had seen plenty of photos online of him and one of his "costars", Hadley, all alluding to the fact that they were a bonafide couple.

Hey you - any plans for NYE?

I pondered how to respond. A while back, Dylan and I had purchased tickets to a NYE party in Philly. Since that clearly wasn't happening, I hadn't made any efforts to plan something else. And without Ash to force me out of the house, I had fully planned on staying in and wallowing in my loneliness. I know, I'm becoming more like Bridget Jones, pre-Mark Darcy, every minute.

Actually was planning a low-key night, you?

I replied, keeping an eye on his text bubbles as I refilled my wine.

Low key huh? Well we're having a party at my place, and I'd love it if you could come.

I chewed on my lip, tempted. It would be better than sitting here alone watching sadly as the ball dropped on TV, envisioning my inevitable cat-lady life that laid before me. However then he would definitely know that Dylan and I had broken up.

As I was still debating the pros and cons, another text popped up.

Please?

I sighed.

Okay, I guess I could swing by. I may bring Elena, if that is okay?

I remembered Elena saying that she had no plans for New Years either, and had planned to hang in with her roommate who had recently been dumped. I figured it couldn't be too hard to wrangle her into my plans.

Awesome, starts at 8.

I padded back over to the couch, sending a screen-grab of the conversation to Ash's email. Stupid texting wasn't working while she was traipsing over Europe. I knew she'd want me to be on Trevor duty on NYE, to make sure he wasn't kissing anyone else at midnight.

I sighed, sinking back into the couch. It seemed like I was starting 2015 off the same way I had began 2014... single, unsure, and still in a gray area with Nick. I really needed to branch out.

**I won't be posting Friday, but I'm definitely going to try to get back to at least once a week as the New Year starts! However it won't be my normal Weds/Fri schedule, but I'll be tweeting out the day before a post goes up so make sure to follow me there! (@Trag20Something). With this new job a lot has changed, so writing time isn't as abundant. But I haven't forgotten you and I still have so much planned for Dani in 2015. Have an INCREDIBLE and safe New Year's everyone! Make sure to lay one on someone special at midnight. xoxo**