"WHAT!"
"Yep."
"So what did he say?"
"Well not much. I didn't really give him an opportunity to talk that much. He wasn't in Arizona though or rehab. I'm not sure he's even got a drug problem, Sloan. I don't know what's real and what isn't with him."
"That asshole. I thought he was cool."
"I know."
"So how did you end things? I mean like what did you say? I know he was the love of your life, Bitsy."
That's overstating things a bit.
"Well Roman kind of forced the issue."
"Roman was at the bar with you?"
"No he came by my room."
"Oh so Ethan was in your room?"
"Yep."
"You know I'm looking at your face right now, and I feel like I'm missing something."
"What? I told you the biggest secret I've got."
"Not just that. I feel like you've been holding out on me. Like you're keeping stuff from me."
"Can't a girl keep a few things to herself?"
"Yeah, I guess, but I just don't want to be the last to know. You know how I am."
"I get it. Oh, I didn't get a chance to tell you that Jagger emailed me too."
"Oh?" She says excitedly. "To invite you to the shindig no doubt."
"Uh huh."
"Are you going? I mean it seems like your dance card is super full." She chuckles.
"Ha, ha, very funny."
"I mean ex-boyfriends and cousins–"
The Uber guy looks up at us again through the rear view mirror and grins.
"Would you shut your trap!" I fuss. Then we both start laughing hysterically.
"I mean what's your secret? Do I need to shave my legs or something?"
I start bopping her on her head with my handbag. "Enough crazy girl. I've made my decision. Ethan doesn't exist. Roman was a mistake. And Jagger … well he's a possibility."
Sloan smiles in approval.
"Well then to Jagger and School Bucks," she says.
And we mock toast each other with our fists like we've done since we were eighteen years old.
"To Jagger and School Bucks."
9
Elizabeth
“I’M SORRY BUT DO your aunt and uncle not allow phone calls inside of the house now? Did they confiscate your cell phone? Are you on some sort of lock down?"
"Very funny, Mother. I'm literally cracking up."
"It's been five days since you've returned from your vacation–"
"My business trip,” I correct her but she ignores me as usual.
"And not even a phone call to me or your father. He'd like to speak to you by the way. Your father."
I find that ironic seeing as how I can count on my hand the number of times over six years that my father actually picked up the phone to call me himself. My mother has always been the unofficial spokesperson of the two. Dad always plays the background. Never initiating much contact with me. I know that it doesn't say anything in particular about how much he loves me; it's just his way.
"I'm sorry, Mom. You're right I should have called, but I've been busy. Put Dad on the phone please."
I hear the deep voice that immediately makes me feel five years old again.
"Elizabeth."
"Hi Dad."
"What are you up to, kiddo?" That's a loaded question.
"You know … this and that."
"Do you need money?"
Straight to the point huh. "No, Dad, I'm okay."
"And just what does that mean– okay?"
"Well my business is generating a decent amount of money for me every month." Ok that's actually stretching the truth by leaps and bounds.
"And I'm going to start looking for a job as well."
I came to that revelation on the flight home. If I'm going to successfully stay from underneath Roman's watch, I'm going to have to move out of my aunt's house. There's just no other way.
"So you're staying in the city then?" Disapproval oozing through the phone.
"Yes, Dad."
"And your aunt and uncle, how long are you planning on staying with them?"
"I'm not sure." I huff. Even though I plan on leaving as soon as I can, my father is making me feel like I am some sort of nuisance.
There's a long pause between us, and I know what's coming next. My parents have made their feelings quite apparent to me. They want me home.
"Listen, Bitsy, I definitely want you to chase your dreams, but there's also reality to consider. You can't live off your aunt and uncle forever. It was never supposed to be a permanent arrangement."
"It's not, Dad." If only he knew how much in agreement we are.
"You can live with us and still work on your business. I can even get you a part time job at the courthouse, so you'll have your own spending money."
Oh brother.
"That sounds like a good plan, Dad, but just not the right one for me. Not right now. I love living in the city."
"Elizabeth, I've allowed you to handle things in regards to your assault because you're a grown woman now, but I need to know the truth. Are you in any further danger? Was this really a random incident? I need to know that you're okay. I need to make sure that you aren't keeping anything from me and your mother."
"I'm fine, Dad. Aunt Juliette's house is in a great neighborhood, and I feel completely safe here. Plus when I get a job and it's time for me to move somewhere, I'm pretty sure that Uncle Joseph and Roman will run a check on the landlord and scout the neighborhood like they're CIA,” I chuckle.
A pregnant pause passes between us.
"Roman?"
"Yes … Uncle Joseph's son."
"He's living there?"
Don't he and my mother talk at all?
"No he has his own place, but he works for Uncle Joseph, so I see him here and there."
And every frackin' where.
"I definitely want you out of that house sooner rather than later, Elizabeth." There's a severity in his voice that wasn't there before.
"Why?" I want out too, but not because my father is holding some grudge from a zillion years ago. "Because Roman buried me in the backyard when we were practically toddlers? That's ridiculous, Dad."
"It has nothing to do with that juvenile prank. It's because I know things about that family that you don't know." My father's voice starts to rise. "And from what I've heard, Roman is very much like his father. They're dangerous people, Elizabeth, and they don't follow rules. They make their own. Those types of people are always dangerous. Family or not."
"They've been nothing but good to me, Dad."
"If I front you six months worth of rent for a new apartment would you move?"
Does he know that I'm sleeping with my "dangerous" cousin or am I just paranoid right now?
"Dad, I'm not going to take your money. Let me figure this thing out on my own. Let me be an adult."
My father sighs in defeat. There's no disputing the whole let me be responsible argument. I've won this round.
"All right, Bitsy. Just be careful."
"Can I ask you something, Dad?"
"Anything."
"What makes Uncle Joseph so dangerous? And if he is such a threat, why did mom suggest for me to stay here in the first place?"
"Regardless of how I feel about her husband, I know that my sister would never let anything happen to you. That's the only reason why you're still there. Let's leave it at that."
"Fine."
"I'm putting your mom back on the phone now. She's chomping at the bit to find out about your trip."
"Okay, Dad. Bye."
"Bye, kiddo."
Tonight is the party at Jagger's and at this point I'm running a little late. I run a little smoothing serum through my curls while I finish my conversation with my mother. We talk for about ten more minutes about my pitch meeting, the weather in the Bahamas, and if I'm seeing anyone special.
I told her that Ethan and I broke up a while ago but obviously never gav
e her the details as to why, so as far as she's concerned I'm on the open market. I swear my mother could set back the women's liberation movement a hundred years with her ridiculous need to set me up with someone.
I'm sitting on the edge of my bed and fingering through a few of my curls while staring in the mirror. Every time I reach the end of one strand, I think about Roman and how he loves to play with my hair. In fact, for the past few days, almost everything I see or do in this house reminds me of Roman.
I've been shamelessly looking for him to come through the front door everyday since we've returned from the Bahamas, and every day he doesn't. Earlier today I finally broke down and sent him a text.
It was a mistake.
Me: Hey
Roman: What's up?
Me: Where have you been?
Roman: Working
Me: Umm … are we okay?
Roman: Yep
Me: All right then. I'll see you later.
Roman: Cool
His monosyllabic answers felt like tiny little needles pricking at my heart. He is obviously still angry with me for shutting him down and it hurts like hell. It was my fault though. I let things go way too far and then ran away. Once again.
Of course the next obvious thing for us to do was to have sex after all those orgasms he tortured me with. Why wouldn't he think that I would want that? Why wouldn't he be mad that I didn't? I'm ridiculous, and even I know it. Why can't I leave this man alone? Why can't I just worry about School Bucks and finding a part time job? Why can't I get my act together? I'm a hot mess.
But Roman is my weakness.
He's frackin' irresistible.
Just like a Hershey bar … I took a couple of real yummy bites and then realized at the last minute that I was about to eat the whole damn candy bar. So I stopped myself. And even though it hurts like hell right now, I know it was the right thing to do.
So no more indulgences for me anymore. I'm totally off chocolate, and I'm going to stick to my very simple vanilla plan.
1. Go to Jagger's. Have fun at Jagger's. Nice and easy. Safe and simple. No more slippery, slimy Ethan. No more toxic-for-me Roman.
2. Find a job so I can move out of Roman's house.
3. Find an angel investor for School Bucks.
Easy peasy.
I've got this.
Jagger lives in a very modest one bedroom apartment above a dry cleaner close to campus. It's a total jock apartment. Not many furnishings, a desk from IKEA, and not so great lighting, but it's perfect for a get together. Lot's of room for people to mill about, eat, and even dance.
He's invited a few more people than he led me to believe that he knew. I guess I forgot just how popular Jagger used to be in school. The whole swim team is here. The ones from school (that kind of don't talk to me anymore) and some of his new friends he's made over at the swim club. There seem to be a lot of swimmer groupies here as well. Mini skirts up to their eyeballs. Shirts cut low down to their knees. Sloan has been cracking jokes about them ever since we crossed Jagger's threshold.
"There should be a five slut maximum at these things,” Sloan says loudly enough for one of the sluts to hear.
"What do you care?" I say embarrassed for whoever is eavesdropping. "You don't even mess with jocks."
"You're right I don't. My dad's bad behavior set me straight on that, but that doesn't mean I want to stare at tits and ass all night."
Jagger approaches us with two mixed drinks in his hands.
"Ladies." He grins.
"Hi there." We both smile.
"Glad you two could make it. Where's Tiny?"
"She had a date. She sends her regrets."
"Cool." Jagger gives me a sweeping once over as he hands me a red plastic cup.
"What's this?" I ask.
"Cosmo's. Made them myself. Is that okay?"
"Yep." I take a sip. "Yum it's good … and a little strong." I say jokingly, but not really. It is a frackin' strong drink.
"You look really pretty tonight, Elizabeth."
"Thank you." I blush.
Jagger looks good too, but I find myself mentally comparing him to Roman in almost every way and unfortunately he isn't stacking up. His height (Roman is way taller), his smile, his voice (Roman's is definitely deeper), his mannerisms. None of them can hold a candle to Roman's. None of them make me tingle from the inside out like Roman's do.
Even down to the drink.
Jagger made me a really good cosmopolitan in a red cup, which I appreciate, but Roman would have asked me what I wanted first, and then he would have made sure it was presented to me in a pretty glass. It would have probably been wine, and then he would have given me a very slow and lazy kiss so that he could taste the wine himself right off of my tongue.
One is still a boy and the other is very much a man. One is so laid back I wonder if he's passionate about anything other than swimming. The other is so intense that I wonder if he can even sleep at night with all the things running around in that head of his.
I've got to stop this.
This type of thinking is self-sabotage, Elizabeth.
Then as if my moment of weakness is some sort of Masterson beacon, he calls, and like the dummy I am … I answer. I answer because I'm so frackin' excited that he's calling me and not the other way around. That maybe he's no longer angry with me. I answer because it's what I always do.
He calls and I come running.
I excuse myself from my conversation with Jagger and Sloan, and step inside what appears to be Jagger's bedroom to take the call privately. Which is a whole weird dynamic in and of itself. Me talking to Roman while sitting on Jagger's bed. I feel a tad bit guilty. For what I don't know. I haven't even done anything yet.
"Hello?"
"What's all that noise?"
"Well hello to you too."
"Where are you, Elizabeth?"
"I'm out with friends?"
"What friends?"
I sigh in annoyance. "The same ones I always hang out with. What do you want?"
"I want you to come over to my apartment right now."
"No. I'm out and if this isn't an emergency we can talk later."
"I'm sorry." He says in the deepest but most subdued tone I've ever heard from him.
"What?"
"I'm sorry. I've been an asshole all week, but I've only been punishing myself. I need to apologize to you properly. Will you let me come pick you up?"
I want to say yes, dammit! I want to say yes so badly.
"I don't think–"
Suddenly Jagger pops his head inside.
"You all right, Elizabeth? You want another drink?"
I try holding the phone down and to the side of my body without disconnecting Roman, but I'm sure that he can still hear something.
"No I'm still drinking this one." I try to answer quietly. "I'll be out in a second."
Jagger takes a quick glance at the phone in my hand. "Cool."
When he closes the door back, it's only then I pick the cell back up and put it to the side of my face.
"Hello?"
"Please tell me you're not with a fucking man."
"I'm not with a man. I'm out with friends."
"So the pretty boy swimmer is there? Because that's exactly who it sounded like just now."
I hesitate for a moment. "Yes, it was Jagger."
I hear an assortment of muffled expletives.
"Where. The. Fuck. Are. You?"
"Roman."
"Where? I'm coming to get you now."
"No."
"What the fuck did you just say?"
"Stop cursing at me asshole. You're not just going to call me after five days of you putting me on some sort of Masterson time out and think you can just bully your way into wrecking my evening, because you feel the need to apologize right this minute. You apologize when I'm ready to hear the damn apology and not a frackin' minute sooner! Do you understand Neanderthal?"
"Duchess–"
"I'll call you wh
en I'm ready to talk cousin."
Click.
10
Roman
“SO IS THE MENDEZ problem taken care of?"
I hear the thunderous noise of someone's palm banging on the table; breaking through my haze of pure internal rage. I want to kill Elizabeth Hill, and then I want to fuck the shit out of her or vice-versa.
She's made her point loud and fucking clear.
I haven't been able to catch her at the house for three days and it's making me start to think really crazy shit. I even spent the night there one night, and she didn't come home. The nerve of her little ass. If I don't find her today, I may have Cutter put a tail on that Jagger kid. She's got to show up at some point and if it's with him, I'm going to beat his ass and make her watch.
"Roman!"
"Yes,” I hiss.
"Did you take care of the Mendez doctor?" Camden asks me with a what-the-fuck face.
"Obviously."
"What was his price?"
"He didn't have a price. He had a breaking point."
"Understood."
"What's up with the clubs?" I ask Cutter trying to get my head back into this meeting.
"Good. New York and Philly are on track. I may have to go down to Miami and get things in order down there."
"And the DUI, Cam?"
"Handled and expunged. Fucking sexy ass lawyer handled it too."
"Cool. Listen, I know my father said that he had all the players handled in this Mendez gig, but this one is big money for us. He's going to get the fee that he charged Mendez, but the three of us are going to get the backend. A portion of his endorsement money. That's long and solid. So I want to double check that everyone stays silent like they're supposed to. I don't want any surprises the day of his interview. If there's even a peep of anyone talking to the press, the deal is dead for us. You feel me?"
"On it. I'll start checking everyone on the list again,” Camden says. "No mistakes."
"Hey Rome let me chat with you a minute,” Jade interrupts.
"Okay, Kings, we're done."
"And would you please get some ass tonight. You've been acting like a real bitch for days,” Cutter teases.
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