Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  I might be a confident woman in my job, but when it comes to social situations, I am and probably always will be a people pleaser at heart.

  “Duck!” Lauren says as the car comes to an abrupt stop.

  She sinks down low in the car and I mimic her incognito behavior.

  “I think this is a little extreme. Vanessa will tell us when she’s ready,” I say.

  Lauren pays no attention to me, her eyes trained on the town car pulling around the front entrance to a condo building none of us would be able to afford a simple studio apartment in.

  The town car driver exits the car, rounding the front until he opens up the back passenger one. A doorman heads out at the same time, holding the front door open of the condo building.

  Vanessa steps out first, a raincoat I never knew she owned cinched tight around her waist, leaving only fishnet stockings and stiletto heels visible.

  “It’s so cliché I’m nauseous,” Lauren says.

  I jab her in the shoulder. “This proves nothing.”

  I’m fully in defense mode until a man emerges out of the town car. No suit, no tie, no clean-cut hairstyle that would suggest that he’s a successful businessman. Instead, he’s sporting a scruffy unkept beard and shaggy haircut with a plaid shirt untucked over a pair of jeans.

  “It’s so much worse than I thought,” Lauren says.

  “We don’t know anything for sure.”

  Lauren’s judgmental gaze flickers to mine. She’s cast her verdict already.

  I’m not so sure. Maybe it was my night with Mauro, that he wasn’t who I pegged him for, but I’m not convinced that Vanessa is an escort.

  The doorman tips his head toward Vanessa in a familiar way to suggest that this isn’t her first time here. They disappear through the doors a second later, leaving the silence in the car thick like the fog on an early spring morning.

  “It’s worse than I thought. She’s not even like Julia Roberts. There’s no Edward…what was his last name?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I mean did you see that guy? She’s going to sleep with him for money? Why wouldn’t she just come to us? God knows I don’t have a ton of extra cash because of my student loans, but I’d give her every extra penny I could.”

  Lauren’s hand goes to the door handle.

  “No!” I yell, reaching forward to stop her.

  “We have to save her. If we catch her red-handed, she’ll confess. The three us can figure this out. Surely you’ll give her a pass on rent.”

  I love Lauren, but she’s wrong. “If we go in there guns blazing, Vanessa will flee. She’ll move out of the house. She’ll refuse to have anything to do with us.”

  “No, she’d never.”

  “Vanessa is hard-headed and after having a father who dictated her every move her entire life, she’s not about to swap him out for two best friends who are going to treat her the same way. She has to come to us for help.”

  I don’t inform Lauren that I’ve already told Vanessa not to pay me, but on the first of every month, there’s always an envelope under my pillow stacked with small bills. It pains me each time, but Vanessa would never let either one of us flip a bill for her. She’s too proud, a trait she inherited from her father, although she’d deny the accusation.

  “She can’t sell her body.” Her tone has turned defeated.

  “We don’t know for sure that she is.”

  Lauren’s fingers weave around the steering wheel, her fingernails digging into the indentations. “She’s in a town car with fishnets and heels.”

  “Maybe it’s her date. He’s older. She could be embarrassed to tell us.”

  I’m not sure I believe the words coming out of my mouth. Vanessa has a type and the man that followed her into that condo building isn’t him. She might have daddy issues, but she’s not looking for another one.

  “Come on. I’ll buy you ice cream.” My hand lands on Lauren’s arm. “She’s a smart girl. If she was into something bad, she’d tell us.”

  Lauren glances at the building again, the town car now gone, the doors closed.

  “Okay,” she agrees reluctantly.

  Ten minutes later Lauren has processed my words about Vanessa and although she’ll never tell me I’m right, we both know that I probably am.

  “If you’re buying, we’re going to George’s.”

  “Then you better hit the gas if you want to make it before they close,” I say.

  Lauren listens to me and although she’s back to her sane self, no longer weaving in and out of traffic and almost hitting parked cars, there were a few close calls with pedestrians. Lauren’s justifies her near misses with the theory that it’s Friday night and people shouldn’t come down to the city if they don’t know how to follow the traffic signals.

  Twenty minutes later, the glass doors of George’s are shut and locked behind us. I have my typical cookie dough ice cream bowl in hand, while Lauren opted for cookies ‘n cream. Instead of hopping back in the car, we walk down the street. We pass a few couples strolling along after dinner and I’d be lying if I didn’t yearn for what they have.

  “Tell me what happened on your date,” Lauren says, finding a park bench and sitting down.

  “I made a fool of myself, but what’s new about that?” I take a seat beside her.

  Her shoulder knocks mine and I sway before righting myself. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

  “I thought I was over the high school crush, you know. That I could go in there and be all ‘look at me now.’ But the minute he was inches away, my voice locked up and I was that girl again. The one who thought he’d never go for a girl like me.”

  “Is that what you were looking for? For him to want to date you?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. I at least wanted to be asked.” I bury my head in my ice cream. “I know it’s stupid.”

  “Why is that stupid? He’s the one for you. Why do you think I bid on him?”

  I glare at her from the corner of my eye. “Thanks for that by the way.”

  She giggles, spooning a big heap of the cookie into her mouth. “So you let him win and then what happened?” she mumbles over the giant cookie lodged in her mouth.

  “He was angry. Called me out. Said I was a people pleaser.”

  “You’re nice,” she counters, sounding as affronted as I was at the time.

  “See!” I point my spoon at her. “That’s what I said, but he said I was confusing the two.”

  “You’re not a people pleaser when it comes to me. If that was the case, Vanessa would be sitting on this bench with us.”

  Point proven.

  “But when it comes to people you don’t know, you do tend to give in too easily.” Her eyes cast down and I think she’s afraid of how I’ll take her criticism.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You are,” she insists.

  “Sometimes I really just don’t care when presented with two options.” I shove a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.

  “I get that, Maddie. I probably care too much about getting my way which is why we’ve been best friends forever. I can take advantage of you by always getting my way.”

  “Hey.”

  She leans into me, placing her head on my shoulder. “I’m kidding. I throw you a bone every now and then.” Her eyes flutter in a ‘forgive me I’m beautiful’ motion.

  “We were only together for like two hours. I can’t be that transparent to a guy who didn’t even remember I existed until his brothers told him we went to high school together.”

  The ache from that jab returns like scar tissue under the surface of my skin.

  “Maybe Mauro has changed.”

  “Well, I’ll never find out because I told him to—”

  A smirk crosses Lauren’s face. “Told him to what?”

  “I told him to have a nice life.” Mimicking the conviction in my tone I had with Mauro hours earlier.

  “Oh Mad, you are too nice. I’m not exactly shaking in my boots over here.�
�� She laughs and I join her.

  “What should I have said?”

  “You should have said even if I see you in my next life it’s too soon.”

  “That’s mean.” I toss my empty cup of ice cream in the trashcan beside the bench then stand up.

  “Yes, Maddie. Mean is the exact opposite of nice,” she says with a smile on her face. “See where we’re going here?” She throws away her cup and swings her arm around my shoulders. “I’ll have an effect on you yet.” Her hip hits mine. “It’s okay to be nice, I wouldn’t want you any other way. Hopefully Mauro will be in your rearview mirror now.”

  “Not when you marry his brother.” I don’t even bother to look at her because she’s probably planning my death based on the glare I feel on the side of my face.

  “Never.”

  “Stranger things have happened.” I steal a glance and her eyes are narrowed to slits.

  “Pigs would be flying, a snowball would not melt in hell, you’d be holding your breath and the Cubs would win the World Series and still I would never walk down the aisle with Luca Bianco.”

  “I hate to remind you, but the Cubs did win the World Series.”

  “Again!” she yells. “They’d have to win it again. Damn it.”

  We’re laughing as we climb back into her yellow Fiat to go home and I realize this was just what I needed after my disastrous date. But one day we won’t live together anymore and no one will be around to help pick up the pieces. An ache starts up in my chest. I’m not in any rush for that day to come.

  8

  Madison

  The room in the courthouse is pretty packed when I arrive, which never ends up in my favor. I’m definitely not the only one bidding on Property 1731. I go over the figures in my head again while more people file in, mentally calculating how high I can bid for my old house. I rationalize the lower than normal return I’m willing to take, telling myself that the emotional aspect of this project outweighs the profit.

  To know that a family lives there whose love will saturate into the grain of the wood support beams will give me immeasurable pleasure. Yes, I know. Cheesy as hell, but my family crumbled under that roof and I’m determined to smack a new roof on that baby to bring a shelter of happiness to a new family.

  Lucky for me, no one seems to want to sit in the front row. The room is filled other than a sprinkle of empty seats in the rows behind me, my row is vacant except for a man at the end who took the second seat in. Weird, why he would take the second? Maybe he’s waiting for someone.

  A minute later the auctioneer approaches the podium.

  I straighten my back, thankful that the Oswald’s have yet to make an appearance. They’d be my biggest competition for this property. Already giddiness starts to flutter my insides, thinking that maybe I’ll get away with a low bid.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Are we all ready to get this auction started? I’ll go over the rules for you newbies.” Rachel smiles down at me. “For you regulars, be patient with the new people in town.”

  I smile back, my eyes on her until the door opens at the back of the room.

  Tardiness is unacceptable and if it’s Oscar Oswald, I hope Rachel tells him he’s two minutes late so he can fly a kite. All the eyes shift in the direction of the door, but as Mauro Bianco strolls across the room, it’s only my breath that’s lodged in my throat. This cannot be happening to me. I close my eyes and peek out of one like he could be a figment of my imagination.

  “Sir, the auction starts at ten on the dot.”

  Throw him out, Rachel.

  Please.

  “I do apologize, ma’am, but I just got off shift. We had a late call and I got here as soon as I could.”

  “You’re a firefighter?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes over the fact that he’d wear his fatigues like a fanatic fan of a sports team just to get an advantage at the auction.

  “Yes, ma’am. Engine Fifty-Five.”

  Rachel smiles and holds out her hand for him to enter the room. “Next time try to be on time.”

  Try? I want to scream. Anyone else who didn’t have that sexy panty-melting smile would be out on their ass.

  It’s bad enough that I have to share oxygen with the man, but his enticing scent hits me full force as his weight lands in the seat next to me.

  “Hey,” he whispers.

  “Hi.” I keep my eyes poised on Rachel who seems more enthralled in watching our interaction than performing her job.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks, continuing the conversation even after I didn’t make eye contact.

  “Same as you I suppose.”

  “You’re bidding on a property?”

  “No. I thought this was people pleasers anonymous,” I deadpan.

  A huge boisterous laugh erupts out of him, echoing through the silent room. Rachel glances up from the papers her assistant is explaining to her.

  Kick him out, Rachel.

  She smiles instead because his laugh is like an aphrodisiac.

  “You’re funny.” He leans back in the chair, his shoulder touching mine, his thigh brushing my thigh before I swing my leg over and cross them, effectively relieving some of the awareness of how close he was.

  “Thanks. I’ll add that to my credentials. Can be funny when I’m not busy putting other’s needs before my own.”

  My eyes zone in on Rachel who is taking her sweet time with the paperwork, her and her assistant in the deep throes of conversation, papers shuffling. Something is going on up there.

  “I meant to message you, but my schedule…”

  I wonder how many times he uses his schedule or the fact he’s a firefighter as an excuse or to gain an advantage.

  “Will you look at me?” He asks the one thing I cannot imagine doing in this moment.

  “Yes.” I look over his shoulder instead of meeting his eyes. He won’t be able to tell the difference.

  His forefinger lands under my chin and he urges my face forward.

  And there they are. Those gorgeous blue eyes staring right back at me.

  His hand drops to his lap.

  “I wanted to apologize. I never should’ve acted like that to you.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Don’t do that.” The kind voice he was using a moment ago now holds a tinge of irritation.

  “Stop telling me what to do.” I look away from him to Rachel once again.

  Come on. Is this property really worth this?

  “I’m sorry it’s just—”

  “What Mauro? I’m sorry if I’m not the girl you want me to be. If I’m not perfect enough for you. Well, guess what? I don’t care.”

  The man at the end of our row looks beyond Mauro’s squared shoulders in my direction. If I was Lauren, I’d flip him off. Say some crude comment about minding his own business in her Laurenesque way. But I’m not her. I’m Madison Kelly, the one who smiles like nothing is going on between me and the firefighter.

  “Perfect? Enough for me?” He sounds more as though he’s not asking me, but himself.

  Whatever.

  “Yes. Would you like it if I was telling you how to act?”

  A smile tips his lips. “Please do.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Come on.” He eggs me on.

  I stand and head over to Rachel.

  “Hey, Rachel, can you let me know how much longer until we start?”

  Her vision shifts from her assistant to me. “Sorry, Madison. There are five properties that were taken out of auction and we’re waiting on word before we start. Gives you more time with the hottie over there.” She smiles conspiratorially at me.

  “Thanks.” I give her a tight smile.

  Mauro’s smile is wide and annoying when I sit back down in my seat. “What’s the word?”

  “It’s going to be awhile. Some properties are coming off auction.”

  “What? Did she say which ones?”

  His easy-going casual persona morphs into an anx
iety ridden one like that.

  “No. She can’t tell us.”

  “That sucks, I hope it isn’t mine,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs.

  “Yours? You haven’t won anything. What property are you here for?” I ask, knowing a newbie would never take on the house I want. He’s probably here for a condo that needs a few light fixture changes.

  “I’m not saying.”

  I chuckle. “What? You think I’m going to want it?”

  “You never know.” He shrugs.

  “That would go against my people pleasing efforts, don’t you think?”

  Again with the chuckle that’s an on switch for the heat between the legs.

  “Shit, Maddie, I wish I would’ve known you better in high school. You’re funny.”

  “Only with you, apparently.”

  His hand covers his heart and his head falls back. “I’m honored.”

  I roll my eyes for the fiftieth time since he sat down next to me.

  “So, your business, is it flipping houses?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Impressive. I’m just about to start my first redo.”

  “Good luck. Hope you’re handy.”

  “I’m good with my hands.”

  I don’t miss the sexual innuendo in his tone, but I don’t react.

  We wait in silence for another few seconds before he stretches—his arms high above his head, his torso rising. If I dared to sneak a peek I bet his shirt is rising, too.

  I wonder if he has a happy trail?

  No. No, you don’t.

  “So you think what? That this is a way to make a quick buck by flipping a house?”

  “Whoa, never saw that jab coming.” He laughs again.