Nice Until Proven Naughty
K.L. Grayson
To those of you who still believe in the magic of Christmas
Contents
1. Naughty
2. Naughty
3. Naughty
4. Naughty
5. Lucas
6. Lucas
7. Nice
8. Ben
9. Nice
10. Nice
11. Naughty
12. Lucas
13. Naughty
14. Nice
15. Ben
16. Nice
17. Ben
A Naughty Epilogue
A Nice Epilogue
It’s not quite over yet epilogue
One more epilogue just for fun
Also by K.L. Grayson
Let’s keep in touch
1
Naughty
A gust of cold air whooshes past me, ripping the front door of Sal’s Tavern right out of my hand. It smacks the wall behind it with a thud, and I scramble to get it shut.
“You’re letting the cold air in,” Ben yells from across the bar.
I flip him the bird as I brush a wayward hair from my face.
“Leave her alone,” my sister, Danielle, says, nudging her best friend and business partner in the side. He grins, and she gives him a goofy look before turning to me. “How was work?”
“Exhausting.” I shrug out of my pea coat and hang it and my scarf on a hook beside the door. “I’m lucky I got out of there when I did.”
Danielle frowns and looks at her watch. “It’s nine o’clock at night.”
“I know.” I take a seat on one of the barstools and smile at a fellow Sal’s regular. “Hey, Bill.”
He tips his hat. “How’s it going, Naughty?”
I roll my eyes at my childhood nickname.
At the ripe age of five, Danielle and I were nicknamed Naughty and Nice, mostly because one of us—Dani—was as sweet as sugar, and the other—Sam, that’s me—was not.
Dani has always been a people pleaser. Never one to rock the boat or tell someone no, she’s quiet, kind, careful, and considerate. She’s the it girl everyone loves and turns to when they need something.
I, on the other hand, have always been an outgoing, rebellious risk taker. I speak my mind, push the envelope on just about everything, and I’ve been called, brass, opinionated, fun, and downright naughty.
Dani and I may be identical, but our physical features are where the similarities end. In fact, we couldn’t be more different if we tried, which is how I, Samantha “Naughty” Kringle, ended up a cut-throat, highly sought-after divorce attorney.
“Another day another divorce.”
Dani slides a mug of my favorite ale across the bar top. “You mean another day another dollar?”
“That too.” I take a sip and let the alcohol seep through my veins and wash away the craziness of the day. This is my happy place.
Good food, beer, company, and music.
No scorned housewife harping in my ear:
He cheated.
I want half of everything.
He can have the penthouse in Manhattan, but I want the house in Napa.
You better make sure I get full custody of the kids.
What did I ever see in that bastard?
I love my job; I really do, but it’s no wonder I haven’t settled down and gotten married.
Men cheat.
Women cheat.
Everybody cheats.
What happened to wedding vows and commitment and the Tenth Commandment? People today are quick to seek comfort elsewhere if they feel their marriage isn’t working. But it’s more than infidelity. It’s the my-way-or-the-highway mentality, independence with an inability to ask for help, and unrealistic romantic notions about what a marriage should look like.
Men want sex, sex, and more sex.
Women want money and prestige.
But who wants love?
Me, that’s who.
I should be jaded beyond belief, but I’m not, because as much heartache and marital destruction as I’ve seen, I’ve also watched love prevail. Few and far between are the couples who work through their problems and remember why they fell in love in the first place.
Those are the couples I try to remember. I don’t care where a man works or how much money is in his bank account. I don’t even care if he has stock portfolio or a picture-perfect family. I just want a guy who is kind and considerate—someone who makes me laugh and opens doors and doesn’t mind spending the evening watching a movie and eating pizza.
I want the male version of my sister.
That thought makes me cringe, and I reach for my beer.
“Your usual?” Dani asks.
I nod. She jots my dinner order onto a slip and passes it through the window to the kitchen.
My stomach rumbles as the succulent smells of greasy burgers and french fries waft through the air. There’s nothing better than bar food, and I hit the lottery when Dani and Ben joined forces to saved Sal’s from closing.
Another gust of wind whips through the room, snatching the door from another unsuspecting schmuck’s hands. I laugh when I realize that schmuck is my and Dani’s best friend, Jamie.
“Holy scrooge balls, it’s cold out there.” Rather than take her coat off, Jamie pulls it tight around her body and sits on the empty stool to my right. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You look all…” She waves her hand in front of me. “…pensive.”
Damn, she’s good. “What? No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” Dani agrees, nodding like a damn bobblehead.
I shake my head and look at Jamie. She’s watching me with a don’t-try-to-lie-to-me-I-know-you-too-well look.
“How do you do that?” I ask.
She grins because she knows she’s got me. “Do what?”
“Take one look at me and know that something’s off.”
“I’ve spent my entire life with you and Dani. We’re practically triplets. Now spill it.”
“It’s nothing,” I say, fiddling with a coaster. “Before you came in, I was just sitting here thinking about stuff.”
“I’ll take a dirty martini,” Jamie whispers to Dani, her eyes still on me. “Keep going. What were you thinking about?”
Dani elbows Ben. “Make Jamie a dirty martini. I don’t want to miss this conversation.”
I roll my eyes and take another drink. “There’s nothing to miss. It’s no big deal. I was just thinking about...love, that’s all.”
“Love?” Dani cocks her head to the side, and when I turn my gaze to Jamie, she’s frowning. And then that frown turns into a full-on belly laugh that trickles to everyone around us.
Even Bill is laughing.
“What?” I scoff. “Why is that so funny?”
“Because you don’t do love,” Ben says, sliding Jamie her drink.
Offended, I straighten my back and square my shoulders. “I do love.”
“When?” Jamie asks.
“Just because I haven’t been in love doesn’t mean I don’t believe in it.”
“But everything about you represents the exact opposite of love,” Jamie says, cowering in her seat when I shoot her a dirty look.
“How do you figure?”
“Help,” she whispers, looking at Ben.
He turns away, pretending to talk to a customer at the end of the bar.
“I’ve got this.” Dani leans her elbows on the bar and rests a hand on top of mine. “Sam, we’re not trying to make fun of you or embarrass you, we’re just surprised to hear you talk about love. You don’t
even date. And your monthly dinner with Tray from Bergman and Bergman doesn’t count. He’s as detached from the dating world as you are.”
“You’re starting to piss me off,” I say, using a voice that has been known to make grown men flinch.
My sister doesn’t even blink, just looks at me with those big, sympathetic doe eyes that I currently hate.
“I’m not detached from the dating world,” I tell her. “I went out Tyler Goodwin last year.”
“You went on one date with him and never made time for a second.”
“Because I was dealing with the divorce of a state representative. I got sidetracked.”
“For three months. By the time you called him, he was already two months into a relationship with Rachel Martin.”
“Okay, how about Grant Sadeski? We went on five dates, and he invited me to dinner with his parents.”
Dani looks at me blandly. “You stood him up—left him and his parents sitting at a restaurant for two hours.”
“I got held up in court,” I shout. “And how do you know all of this? I don’t remember telling you about that.”
She shrugs and looks around. “I own a bar. People talk. I’m like a therapist, only a hell of a lot cheaper and more fun to look at.”
“So, what, you’re saying I’m a bitch?”
“Not at all.” Dani shakes her head. “You’re just busy. Your life is work, and you don’t have time to date, let alone fall in love.”
“I have a life outside of work.” Don’t I?
Jamie is shaking her head through every word I say. “You work crazy hours. On the off chance you get out before nine o’clock at night, you come here and grab a bite to eat. If we’re lucky you stay for a beer and a quick chat, and then you head home and do it all over again the next day.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have a life outside of work. Just last weekend I went shopping with a friend.”
“That was me. I was the friend,” Dani says. “And we went shopping for groceries only because I forced you. When was the last time you hung out with someone outside of work?”
“Here, with you guys a couple of times a week, every week.”
“Sal’s doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t hang out with anyone here. You mostly answer emails on your phone and give me one-word answers and then you scarf your food down and leave.”
“That’s not true.” I look to Ben for confirmation, and the quick aversion of his eyes is the answer I need. “Okay, maybe I’ve been a little preoccupied with work. I’m a woman in a male-dominant world. Sometimes I feel like I’ve got to put in extra hours just to keep up and prove myself.”
“I get that, but at what cost? You’re missing out on some of the best years of your life. Who knows?” she says, giving me a coy smile. “You might even be missing out on love.”
I hate it when she’s right.
2
Naughty
A week later, I push open the door to Sal’s. The first thing I notice is that it doesn’t have the signature smell of cigarette smoke, food, and booze. The scent is still there, but it’s muted.
The second thing I notice is that it’s empty.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in this place when it hasn’t had at least a dozen patrons.
“Hello?”
“Coming,” Dani hollers. She rounds the corner a second later carrying a stack of boxes. She peeks around the side of the stack and stumbles when she sees me.
“Whoa.” I grab the top two boxes before they fall, and I set them on a nearby table.
“Thanks.” Dani sets her box down beside the other two and props an elbow on it. “What are you doing here?” It’s then that her eyes take a leisurely stroll over my body. “And what are you wearing?”
I look down at my faded skinny jeans, paired with a simple black sweater and a pair of Chuck T’s. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
“Nothing it’s just… Ben,” she yells, not taking her eye off of me. “Get out here.”
“What’s up?” he says, coming from the kitchen with a dishtowel in his hand. He stops short at the sight of me. “Whoa.”
Dani nods. “Right?”
My eyes bounce between them. “What?”
“You look…” He purses his lips and contemplates what he wants to say.
“Speak!”
“Normal.” He smiles at me. “You look normal.”
“I think she’s sick.” Dani puts a hand to my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” I slap her hand away.
“Did you get fired? Because if so, you don’t have to worry, Ben and I will hire you. Won’t we, Ben?”
“Absolutely. Can you cook?”
“Yes,” I answer before quickly shaking my head. “But I don’t need a job.”
“You weren’t fired?” Dani asks, not sounding at all convinced.
“No.”
“I’m so confused.” Ben pulls up a chair, and Dani sits down with a mumbled, “Thanks.”
“Maybe you’re the one who’s sick.” I examine my sister and then look at Ben. “Is she okay?”
“I think she’s in shock.”
“Over what?”
“Your lack of a power suit and heels, for starters. Or maybe it’s that you’re here at…” He looks at his watch. “Two o’clock in the afternoon.”
I smile triumphantly. “I took the afternoon off.”
“Why?” Dani asks, finally snapping out of her state of surprise.
“To help decorate Sal’s. Isn’t that what you’re doing today?”
“Yes, but I mentioned that in a text to you three weeks ago, and you never replied. I just thought you forgot or never saw it. I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Here I am.” I hold my arms out wide. “I’m yours for the day, and I left my phone in my car, so I won’t get distracted.”
“Who are you, and what did you do with my sister?”
“I’m trying to—”
“Give me a heart attack?”
“—do better.”
Understanding washes across her face. “Is this because of our conversation last week about you being married to your job?”
“Partly.”
It’ll be easier to be honest if I’m doing something with my hands, so I open the first box and pull out a strand of garland. “I knew my job was taking over, and I let it, mostly because I don’t have anything better to do. It took that conversation for to me realize that I’m not going to find anything better to do if I don’t take a step back.”
“So, here you are?”
“Step one in the make Naughty nice plan: be present.”
Dani smiles. “You are nice.”
“You know what I mean.” I shrug and fiddle with a strand of lights. “I want to be more like you.”
“I think you’re perfect the way you are.” My sister pulls me in for a hug that lingers a little longer than normal. “I’ve missed you.”
“Well, remember that, because you’re about to get sick of me after I begin step two of my plan.”
“What’s step two?”
“I work tomorrow, and then I’ve got the entire week off. I don’t go back until after Christmas.”
“That’s great! And there’s no way I’ll get sick of you,” she says tightening her hold.
“I might,” Ben mumbles, winking when I glare at him.
Dani smiles at Ben. “Come on, Ben, bring it in. You know you want to join us.”
“Okay, but only because I’ve had fantasies similar to this,” he says, wrapping his big, strong arms around both of us.
“Eww.” Dani shoves an elbow into his side.
“I said similar,” he grunts. “In my dream you were both naked.”
“You’re lucky we love you, Ben.”
“Speak for yourself,” I wheeze. “I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry.” Ben releases us, and then Dani releases me.<
br />
“Let’s get to work. With Sam here, we should be able to knock it out in a few hours.”
Five hours later, Dani collapses onto a barstool. “That was the longest few hours of my life.”
“I officially hate Christmas lights.” We spent almost three hours replacing bulbs, trying to get the strands of lights to work. I finally got pissed off, threw them in the trash, and bought new ones.
“Same,” Jamie says, sipping her hot cocoa.
“You just showed up an hour ago and didn’t even help.”
She shrugs and wipes whipped cream from her upper lip. “It was exhausting watching you guys. I’ll probably never touch a strand of lights again because of it.”
“I don’t know why you guys are crabbing. I’m the one who got on the ladder and risked my life to make this place a winter wonderland. Still don’t know why we need to decorate. It’s a bar, for crying out loud. No one here cares if we have mistletoe hanging in the doorway or garland wrapped around the stage.”
“I care,” Dani says.
Ben’s face goes all gooey with heart eyes, and how the hell does she not see that he’s crazy about her?
“That’s why I do it.” He kisses the side of her head. “Now get up. It’s dinner rush, and we need to help Crystal before she quits.”
Dani drags herself from the stool and gets to work, and I spin mine around so I can look at the tables, which are mostly full.
“Which one of these fine men would you like to take home tonight?” Jamie asks, sweeping arm as though to showcase the room.
“Hmm…” I tap a manicured nail against my chin. “That guy looks nice.”
Jamie follows my gaze toward the pool tables. “The one with the cowboy hat?”
“To the left of him.”
“He’s gay.”
“How do you know?”
Nice Until Proven Naughty Page 1