by Kira Graham
She’s like… Hitler, on a breezy summer day in Germany. It doesn’t matter how nice or bad you are, Gia is always going to be Gia, and right now Gia is pissed-off Gia, and she’s pissed off because we’re barely into this mission and I’ve failed. Shit.
“How was I supposed to know there’s a key-card access thingy? I’ve never been in here before. The doorman usually lets me in at the lobby,” I whine, a whimper of relief leaving me when Gia huffs and lets go, Chewing on her blue lip with a contemplative expression on her face.
“That’s true. I can’t red-card you for that, I guess,” she muses, her eyes going wide when we hear a car pulling in and then a moment later a beep as the alarm engages.
Now I panic. I mean, I should have maybe panicked when I noticed the security cameras following us as we crept in, but truthfully, that was just funny and I was afraid, okay? You try being the one to tell Gia that her master plan was shit from the get-go. I freaking dare you.
“What do we do?” Kat hisses, finally grasping the fact that this isn’t a joke and looking at us with so much panic I feel a bubble of hysteria gurgle up my throat in the form of a laugh I don’t think would bode well for me with Gia.
I don’t know, but I start to move on autopilot and try to duck behind the car beside us only to come up short when I realize the asshole who reverse-parked didn’t leave even an inch of space between his bumper and the wall. Next I attempt to roll under the car. Another bust. It’s way too low to the ground, and my ass is way too round to fit.
“Shit!” Gia hisses, her body turning side to side as she too starts to panic and my hysteria giggles build.
We’re going to get caught. Oh, Lord, we’re going to get caught and locked up—and, dammit, this face paint isn’t going to look good on a mug shot, I think, wondering how I would even explain that to a judge.
Well, see, your Honorness. I was trying to break into my friend-slash-crush’s apartment to steal the kitten he technically stole from me, and the reason I was wearing navy-blue face paint is because I’m terrified that someone will accuse me of being a bigot instead of just a plain ole dumb criminal in the making. So, you see, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. I’m just stupid.
Somehow, I don’t think that’ll go over well, and I’m trying to come up with prison plans to protect myself from cornrow Gia when a little old lady stops beside us, looks down and smiles, her hat, the adorable lime-green suit and her shocking-pink lipstick stunning us all dumb for a minute.
“Hello,” she says, her accent so posh and un-American I blink and try to remember what the Queen looked like the last time I read a tabloid. Shit. The only photo I can remember of her was when she had that funky eye, and I wasn’t paying attention to her face! Shit. Okay. Gray hair. Check. Old skin. Double check. Weird old-lady suit. Definitely check—
“This is so not what it looks like,” Gia says, finally speaking because she knows I’m not making a sound and Kat is trying to hide behind me.
“Really? Tell me, what should it look like, then?” the old woman asks, that weird, jovial smile still in place while I do something I’ve never had to do in my life.
I attempt to think of a whopper while sidling passed Gia, slowly, so she won’t realize I’m gonna make a runner before she can do it.
“Well, I mean, it could look nefarious,” Gia muses, swallowing loudly. “But it isn’t—are you trying to run, you little creep!” she screams, grabbing my arm right before I can bolt, the fact that Kat is now monkey-strapped to my back making it even more impossible because what Kat lacks in gray cells, she more than makes up for in a few extra pounds.
“Ooof! What? No! I was just trying to get comfortable. She’s a clinger,” I lie, trying to shake Kat off while Gia glares and hisses.
“You so were!”
“I was not!”
“Were too. You were going to run and leave me here with the crier, and this isn’t even my mission!” Gia snarls, her fingernails so far into my forearm I’m worried about bleeding out if they dig any deeper.
“Not your—this was all your idea, Gia. Don’t worry, Lu, it’s just a quick in and out,” I sneer, making my voice deep because I know she hates it when I do that. “I wasn’t the one who planned to steal Jaja—that was you. So you could restart the hunt and also win a hundred grand. You planned all this, and you did a shit job of it too. This is just like Funky Town!” I yell, sobbing a little because I’m truly scared now and it isn’t of the old lady or the cops showing up.
Gia’s eyeballs aren’t moving or blinking, and that’s a sure sign that she’s furious, which in my family means duck and run. Or drop and roll. But that only happed one time and honestly, I don’t think Gia meant to try and set Simon on fire. At least I don’t think so.
“This is nothing like Funky Town and you know it, you bish. You swore we wouldn’t ever talk about Funky Town again!”
“Ooonly because the last time I did, you snuck into my apartment and shat in my toilet and didn’t flush. You have no idea what that was like the next morning. I’m surprised I woke up!” I yell, shuddering because she later confessed it was kale that gave the smell such life, and, dammit, I won’t ever forget it.
I couldn’t smell right for two days after that. Everything stank.
“Yeah, well, mention Funky Town again and you won’t wake up. Ever,” she warns, her unmoving eyeballs legitimately starting to freak me out now.
“Ahem. Girls?” the old lady cuts in, forcing Gia to look away long enough that I can breathe and say a prayer, begging God not to let her kill me and eat my soul. “Perhaps you could explain this to me upstairs over a cup of… maybe a glass of something a little stronger? And wash your faces?” she suggests, smiling when I gulp and share a look with Gia.
Kat’s a lost cause. She’s either passed out on my back with her arms death-gripping my throat, or she just had a heart attack. Either way, she’s not budging, moving, or making a sound, and when Gia looks at me and then nods at the old woman, I nearly tear my groin getting up off the floor with Kat’s weight on me.
“This isn’t a good idea,” I whisper as Gia drags me behind her and follows the old lady into the elevator, the holy grail that was so unattainable just moments ago.
“You got a better one, Sherlock?” Gia hisses, smiling when the old lady peers at us and hits the button for her floor while looking at Kat with concern.
“I do say, is she all right?”
“Her? She’s fine. She faints when she gets super-scared,” I assure her, trying not to pass out myself because I’m not okay right now.
What was I thinking? I can’t steal Cameron’s kitten! That’s just wrong and mean—and, dang it, illegal to boot. I should just sit him down and calmly discuss what it would mean to me to get the cat back, although if I’m being honest I was a little bummed when I found Jaja because finding him meant that the treasure hunts would end, and those things have been such a big part of my life, I can’t imagine not having them.
“Well. Here we are. Oh! My manners,” she trills, smiling as we all step off the elevator and follow her to her door. “I’m Ivy. And you are?”
“So screwed,” I groan, shaking off Kat once I feel her coming back around. “Lu. Louisiana, but my friends call me Lu,” I sigh, my fight-or-flight instincts dying as we all walk into her apartment and I look around.
“Gia—and this coward here is Kat,” Gia mutters, her voice dying on a gasp when we get a load of the apartment.
It isn’t that it’s fancy, although it really is. It isn’t even that it’s big—which, again, it is. The place is just so cool, with knickknacks and photos and this huge piano in the middle of the living room that takes up so much space the sofas are all pushed to one side and inconsequential.
“Oh, my gosh; this is so cool,” I gasp, hurrying over to the pure white piano and looking at the shiny surface in awe.
“You play?” Ivy asks, laughing when Gia snorts and pulls a face.
“Not even a little. My mom’s idea of
activities was washing the dishes and doing laundry. If you had time for a run, you could damn well do chores,” she says in a mocking tone that sounds so like Mom’s I giggle. “So, Ivy, about what you just saw—”
“Calm down, child. I’m not calling security on you—oh, that’ll be Randy come to find out who you are. Just a minute,” she says, going to the door and opening it to show a big, burly security guard there who doesn’t look pleased at all.
“Mrs. Owens. You all right? We saw these three—”
“Just a bit of fun, Randy, dear. They’re my guests,” she laughs, waving off his suspicious glare with a trill of amusement. “We’re about to have tea, dear. Would you like to join us?”
At the question, Randy gets a hunted look in his eye that I should, in hindsight, maybe pay attention to, but I’m just so relieved when he shakes his head, says good night and gets the hell out of here, I nearly faint with relief and fall onto one of her sofas, resting my head against the back. I need a drink, a migraine tablet, and about ten hours of sleep. I feel like I’ve been pulled through the ringer, and to top it off the coward called Kat is back to full-system function and she’s beaming at the place, completely unaware of what just went down.
“So. Let’s have it, then,” Ivy says as soon as she’s closed the door and tottered to the drinks cart to get us all a drink.
I could kiss her for the single shot of vodka she gives us all, but this is the hour of confession and honestly, what’s there to say? I was breaking into an apartment that isn’t mine to steal a cat that, again, technically isn’t mine, and was doing it because I’m scared to stay friends with the guy because he’s hot, nice, and I think I like him as more than a friend? Uh, no. I’m good. Thank God that Gia likes the sound of her own voice, because she does the talking.
“The thing is… well, we needed to get Lu’s cat,” she says softly, biting into her lip and gingerly sipping at the vodka.
“Your cat is missing, dear? It ran into the building?” Ivy asks, lowering herself down to the chair across from us and frowning when I swallow and shake my head.
“Not lost. Just… I lost him on a technicality,” I sigh, ignoring Gia’s glares when I start to tell Ivy the whole story.
I tell her about the games, the hunts, the exhilaration of the challenge, and how I nearly won. I tell her about Jaja, meeting Cameron and then having to be his friend when really I shouldn’t subject myself to that because I’m just a woman with a libido, poor decision-making skills, and a heart that’s already been shredded.
“So, you see, Ives, I really need that kitten back so I can win the games, go back to my life, and forget that Cameron O’Dare ever existed,” I say softly, grunting when Gia slaps me upside the head and scowls.
“That’s why you agreed to this? You like Cameron?” Gia asks, snarling the words in a way that if I don’t answer her, I may be killed with a highball glass and left to rot in an apartment while an innocent little old lady lives out her life in a basement in the Bronx.
“I mean, sort of. You don’t get it, Gia. You just don’t get it. I can’t like him!” I mutter, willing her to understand with my eyes alone.
“Why? Why can’t you just like him? He likes you, and he’s cute and nice, and his family has their own version of the games, Lu,” she yells, sounding so put out by my answer I am seriously a little confused here.
“What?”
“Oh, yeah. They have the Dares,” Kat cuts in, finally speaking and smiling at Ivy.
“I thought you were catatonic! And how do you know anything about Cameron’s family?”
“Oh, I met Connor when Gia brought him to the bar—ouch. Stop that. I need that to feed my babies one day, Gia,” she screams, crying a little until Gia stops and then turns to me with an expression so fierce, I shrink back.
“We’re friends. I like him. He’s nice, and kind, and he has a little girl named Ginny, and I need a friend who isn’t you, narcolepsy Ninny or one of the people who created me,” Gia sniffs, giving me a filthy glare when I snort. “And Cameron is great, Lu. I just don’t know why you can’t see that.”
“That’s the point. I can!”
“Then what’s the problem? Jesus, finding a good man in this city is like finding a virgin in a whorehouse, Lu. So what if he’s got money?”
“You know what,” I hiss, giving her a look meant to boil her blood and kill her soul.
Fortunately for her she doesn’t possess a soul, the bitch—
“Well, I don’t care about that. How’s that? I don’t care that some rich punk broke your heart, stole your V-card and then blasted it to all his friends and dumped you right after. That happened. It sucked. Get over it and move on, Lu. You can’t let that influence everything you do!” Gia yells, throwing her hands up and storming to the drinks cart for a refill.
I’m left a little deflated until Ivy sighs and leans over to pat my hand, her soft words and kind smile so gentle, I try to smile back.
“Cameron O’Dare from upstairs?”
“That’d be the one. The hot guy with the dark hair and brown eyes. Has a mile of muscle, knows how to wear a suit, and has a bald spot on his head he swears comes from a two-pound kitten,” I snort, still not sure I believe him.
“Ah, he’s a nice boy, that one. Has the security teams go for my groceries once a week so I can go play gin with my friends. He’s also really sweet to the single mother who lives below me. Got her boy into a good school even though the scamp has been expelled from three schools already,” she says, smiling when I frown.
“He’s nice. I already know that,” I groan. “Don’t tell me any more. I don’t need to hear more.”
“Ah. You don’t want to like him, and you think that stealing your cat and just leaving will solve things?” she laughs with a shake of her head. “Why don’t you go and clean your faces? I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea, and then you can calm yourself and try to list to reason. The boy’s a good one, Lu, a really good one. Why don’t you give him a chance and then go from there?” she asks, rising without letting me answer and tottering off to the kitchen while Kat helps me up and to the bathroom.
“I hate to say it, Lu, but they have a point,” Kat murmurs when we’re alone and scrubbing our faces with toilet paper so as not to ruin the expensive towels Ivy has in her bathroom.
“I know. That’s the problem.”
Chapter 8
Cameron
I’m still laughing when I leave Nana’s on my way to work, my shoulders shaking with so much glee that by the time I get to work I can hardly contain myself.
“You’re looking chipper this morning,” Connor drawls, taking up his usual seat opposite my desk while Peter takes the sofa, lying down with groan and a cold towel over his eyes because he and Dad drank a bottle together last night when Des fell asleep and Mom used it as an excuse to put on her favorite movie.
I swear to God, someone needs to do something about the guy who wrote that book because it’s literally killing us all. Especially Simon, who has six sisters of his own and had to watch chick flicks all his life.
“I’m not chipper—I’m freaking gobsmacked is what I am,” I laugh, thanking Trinity when she bustles in with my coffee, some files and a bottle of aspirin for Pete. “Guess who tried to break into my apartment last night and got their asses caught by Nana?” I ask, smiling when Connor frowns, then gapes and then shakes his head.
“No.”
“Yep,” I laugh, shaking so hard I spill coffee on my desk and nearly fall out of my seat.
“No.”
“It happened,” I crow, not sure why I find this so funny.
Maybe it’s the sheer audacity. Maybe it’s the security footage I watched of three grown women with navy-blue face paint, all scuttling into the garage and trying to hide under my car. Maybe it’s because my own nana—well, Ivy isn’t exactly my nana but she is Keenan’s nana on his mom’s side—caught them and invited them up to her apartment for a breather and a cup of tea. You name your pick a
nd I find it funny, especially the part where Lu confessed her mission was one of pure necessity because, wonder of wonders, she finds herself liking me more than she means to.
The news is heartening and something that made my morning, but what’s tickling me the most is the text I got this morning from her, saying that she’s not going to be around for a bit.
“And this makes you happy because?” Peter asks, sitting up with a groan and downing half a bottle of water with two pills.
“She’s running scared. Nana says she likes me, and this morning she texted me and said, ‘Please look after Jaja while I take some time to myself,’ ” I drawl, laughing when they frown.
“I’m sorry. This is good because…?”
“Because she likes me and she can’t be around me without liking me. Hello? This means she wants me—and you know what that means?” I ask, laughing when they groan and Connor shakes his head.
“Leave me out of this, Cam. I’m friends with Gia.”
“So?”
“So… the woman’s out of her mind, man. You know what she’ll do to me if she finds out I’m trying to help you seduce her sister? Besides, this isn’t fair; if I help you, then you and Lu have an advantage in the game, and then I don’t win my hundred grand.”
“Con, my brother, I hate to break this to you, but Gia doesn’t have a hundred grand to make good on that bet,” I laugh, smirking when he grins.
“Well, no. But she will have to pay it off, and how she does that is up to me,” he muses, the way his eyes twinkle now giving me the straight-up creeps.
“What is that look for?” I huff. “Don’t mess with Gia. I intend to marry Lu one day and make babies, and that won’t happen if I don’t have balls.”
“Too late—I think those are already in Lu’s purse,” Peter laughs, his chuckles cutting off sharply when I turn to glare at him. “Okay. Sheesh. I was kidding. Mostly. Tell me, how do you intend to do this now that your mom’s hooked you up with Celeste?”
I shrug, feeling zero pain as I think about the next step of this… I can’t call it a plan since I only just discovered what Lu and Gia did last night. Heck, I just got through that family talk and decided to follow Mom’s advice about how to handle this. I wasn’t expecting to go home this morning after I fell asleep on the couch last night and hear Nana tell me about Lu. All I was thinking about as I crept into my own apartment, ready to defend my life, was that maybe I’d call Lu this morning and start off with small talk before dropping my dating bomb.