Spending New Year's Eve in New York had always sounded like a bad idea to Aria Montgomery. Spending New Year's Eve alone in New York sounded even worse. And starting New Year's Day off by waking up naked in some stranger's apartment with a serious hangover, little recollection of the night before, and no clue as to where her panties were, was an absolutely appalling thought for the twenty-five-year-old. Yet somehow, Aria Montgomery managed to do all three.
The sounds of New York City had mocked her the whole cab ride back to her hotel. Why did car horns have to be so goddamn loud? The sunny and cloudless sky didn't seem to care about her condition either. She had no sunglasses or earbuds to hide behind. Hell, she barely had clothes to cover her more important assets. She had found her bra hanging from the branch of a fake tree the man she'd spent the night with had in his apartment and her dress balled up by the toilet in the bathroom. Her heels had been discarded by the front door and her coat had been carelessly left on the kitchen floor. She searched for her panties for 10 minutes before giving up and calling a cab. Deciding that not getting an STD from the seat of a cab was more important than being unbelievably cold for 20-25 minutes, Aria folded up her jacket and sat on top of it for her duration of her miserable ride.
The front desk girl at the Hilton Hotel that Aria's company had arranged for her to stay in for their annual "pleasure" trip gave her a knowing look, as if she too had experienced many a New Year's Day walk of shame through an unfamiliar lobby. Aria gave a small smile, walking briskly to the elevator and praying that none of her coworkers would be behind the doors when they opened. It was 11 am, surely everyone had already gone out for the day…they were older after all with less of a desire to sleep in. But then again, they had all been up until midnight or later the night before so anything was possible.
Aria worked for the publishing company, Rockstream Press, located in the heart of Boston. She'd gotten a job shortly after graduation with the help of her then boyfriend, Liam Green. He'd been with the company for only 5 years at the time, but had family connections that went 20 years back. She'd been hired on as a "gopher" basically. She fetched coffee and papers for her senior editors and other coworkers her who higher up the food chain than she was for about 2 years. It was tedious, but she needed the money and no other publishing company was willing to hire a girl fresh out of college, so she made it work. When she and Liam called off their relationship, Aria held her breath each day as she entered the office, sure she'd be fired. She had slept with his best friend…drunkenly, but she'd still done it. Liam had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her after that. It only made sense that he'd have her fired since he'd gotten her hired. But the hammer never dropped. Liam made a point to be rude to Aria and even got a few of their coworkers on his side, but she was never let go. In fact, 2 months after their breakup, Aria was given a promotion. She now worked, really worked, as one of the company's PR representatives and got treated as more than just a college kid with a dream. Liam and his friends attributed Aria's career boost to the fact that their old editor-in-chief, Jillian, had left, and a new, attractive, and male editor had taken her place. Aria thought their accusations were childish and out of spite. Sure she'd screwed up by fucking Liam's best friend, but she'd been drunk. She wasn't a slut, just a lightweight with little self control. No way in hell would Aria ever consider screwing the boss to get ahead, no matter how desperate she was…or how good looking he was. She wanted to get ahead on her own merit and she had.
When the elevator arrived, the doors opened to reveal an elderly couple with I LOVE NY t-shirts on and a family of 4 dressed for a long day of exploring the concrete jungle. Aria smiled at the people as they filed out and caught the eye of the older gentleman whom she believed was the father of the family. She could feel his judgment, but let it roll off of her shoulder. She wasn't sensitive to what a stranger thought of her. All she cared about was that he wasn't a friend of hers.
The ride up to the 23rd floor was agonizing. With every stop the elevator made, Aria's assumed that a colleague would step in and see her. She thanked a God that she didn't believe in once she stepped onto the patterned carpet of the 23rd floor unseen by anyone she knew.
Her room was flooded with light. The damn maids had opened the curtains, thinking she'd enjoy a nice view of downtown Manhattan when she returned, like most normal tourists would. But being insanely hungover and down $50 from a cab ride that should've been unnecessary didn't exactly classify Aria as "normal". So instead of enjoying the beautiful hustle and bustle of the city below, Aria cursed Manhattan aloud and ripped the curtains closed, enveloping herself in almost complete darkness.
She folded back to comforter of her bed and crawled in, groaning outwardly as if she hadn't brought all of this upon herself, as if the choices she had made last night hadn't led her to this exact moment. She found herself wishing that she could blame someone else. She wanted to say that someone else had forced her to spend the evening in the manner that she had. And in a way, she could. That someone had been a temptress named Tequila Shots. But, somehow, Aria doubted that anyone would feel sympathy for her if she tried to blame that hangover-causing bitch for real.
Closing her eyes, Aria tried to recall the events from her night. She remembered sights, like the ball and the mass of people. She could smell the cologne of the man she'd slept with. She was pretty sure it was the same Ralph Lauren fragrance that she'd given her brother for Christmas that year. Fuck, I had sex with a man that smelled like my brother? She could hear voices, like the one of the bartender asking her if she was sure she wanted another shot and the one of the Ralph Lauren man asking her if she'd like to be his New Year's kiss. She could half remember replying with some cheesy line that only sounded good because she'd been so drunk. Images of this man's naked body appeared in her brain. They were blurry and she couldn't remember details, but she could remember his hesitance. She remembered him telling her that he had never done something like this before and her encouraging him to keep going. Had she not woken up beside him this morning, Aria probably couldn't have recalled what the man looked like. She'd stared at him for a solid minute when she'd first opened her eyes that morning, partly because she couldn't believe that she had done something like this again, and partly because she was relieved that he wasn't someone she knew. The man had light blonde hair and fair skin. His nose was a little crooked, but in way that most people would find adorable. His lips were pink and slightly bruised and he had dents in his face where she assumed dimples would appear if he smiled. Aria felt proud that she still found him attractive even though she was sober. At least she was fortunate in that area. And although Aria couldn't remember if they'd used protection or not, she had made sure to check his trash cans for a used condom. Much to relief, she'd found one.
Her brain seemed to emit an audible buzz as it worked to pull her memories out of hiding. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Eventually she gave up trying to coax her brain to replay her evening and decided to let herself fall into a deep sleep that she so desperately needed.
Aria was pulled from what felt like only 2 minutes of sleep by the ping of her phone signaling that she'd received a text message. She squinted at the sudden brightness that radiated from her phone's oversized screen and blinked at the realization that it was 7:02 pm and that she'd received over 20 texts. A large portion of those messages were "Happy New Year" texts from friends and relatives, but a few were a bit more intimate. Her best friends, Hanna Marin, Emily Fields, and Spencer Hastings had all sent her texts about their "amazing" and "mind-blowing" nights and had asked if hers was just as unforgettable. She typed back sarcastic, yet entirely true remarks, about wishing she could forget everything that happened and told them that she would explain later.
She laid back down, hoping to fall back asleep, but was deterred by a loud growl from her stomach. Only then did it hit her that she hadn't eaten since 7 the previous night. 24 hours and a hangover later was bound to make a girl hungry. Knowing that all hotel expenses went on her company card, Aria picked up her room phone and ordered the most expensive things on the menu. She felt like she deserved to treat herself to compensate for how terrible she felt.
While she waited, she stripped down from her dress and changed into one of her many extra-large sleeping shirts that consumed her tiny frame and finally slipped on some panties. She knew she should shower, but that would have to wait until she satisfied her stomach.
15 minutes later, a knock at her door echoed through her small room. "Just leave it at the door, please," Aria called, not really wanting the bellhop to see her in her pajamas with the world's most noticeable sex hair. She stood behind the door and listened for the footsteps of the worker to fade, feeling slightly like a spy on a mission.
When she was sure the coast was clear, Aria opened the door and bent down to pick up the tray that smelled like Heaven. Her stomach growled loudly again in excitement at the same time the door directly across from hers opened up revealing a tall man with dark hair and a jawline that could cut a diamond.
"Ms. Montgomery," The man spoke with a tone that would be used when addressing a child who was not paying attention.
Aria's ear perked up and immediately turned red. Holy shit, this is not happening. Slowly, she lifted her eyes from her tray of food to the man standing in the doorway. Dammit. The editor-in-chief of the Rockstream Press stood before her, dawning what she presumed to be his best suit and a smirk that made her feel like a kid who had just been caught doing something adorably naughty. And here she was, no pants on and the sweat of a stranger in her pores. She was the girl he had hired to represent his company and this is how she allowed herself to been seen. Aria racked her brain for an excuse as to why she looked like the morning after without admitting that that's what she was. But it was the day after one of the biggest drinking days of the year, and surely her boss had heard about her reputation, be it through Liam or anyone else. Surely he'd heard that she was prone to sleeping with people after one too many. Surely he was already assuming that she'd gotten smashed and slept with a stranger so she'd just be wasting her breath with any excuse she tried to make. She internally resigned herself to that assumption and decided to not make up any excuses. It is what it is. Instead, Aria gave a weak smile and nod, saying only two words before closing her door. "Mr. Fitz."