by Kira Graham
“Well, I wasn’t expecting this,” I grumble, my mood dipping a little.
“True. Oh, God, what was I thinking last night?” Peter groans, gripping his head while we chuckle.
“You were trying to drown out the pain,” I snort.
“You fell asleep early,” Peter accuses, as if I’m in the wrong for not subjecting myself to that torture.
“Hey, I’ve hardly slept since that cat came into my life,” I huff, laughing when he snorts.
“You chose it.”
“No, I chose Lu. The cat was an unavoidable evil.”
“Stop talking about that damn cat, you idiots. We’re talking about how to approach this and not get me killed,” Connor snarls. “What are you intending, Cameron?”
Well, a lot, but I have no intention of telling anyone a damn thing. They’d just interfere, and besides, I’m still in planning stages at the moment seeing as I’ve only just decided on this course.
“You don’t need to know shit. Get your asses to work, both of you,” I laugh, shaking with laughter when Connor curses and rises, storming out of the office.
“I’m going home to nurse my head. Call me later to let me know what’s happening. One word of advice, brother? Don’t do something you’ll regret, okay?” Peter says softly before he too gets up to leave, leaving me jumping and ready to get this started.
Excitement courses through me as I dial the number I’ve had in my phone for weeks now, and I’m grinning when he answers, because I think I just may have the answer to my problems. I’m just praying they work out.
Chapter 9
Louisiana
“What’s your issue now?” Gia asks, whatever her bad mood is about this morning not affecting me because I’m already in the crapper and it isn’t even eight in the morning yet.
I’ve been working since just before five, I’m tired and crabby and irritable, and I got my period, so that’s been fun to deal with along with Mom showing up at the crack of dawn for no other reason than to make my life hell. I’ve been raked over the coals, figuratively, my damn head hurts because I always get migraines at this time of the month, and to top it all off, Dad called me just an hour ago and told me I either get the cat back, or I lose it in a week.
Apparently he’s reviewed his hallowed rules, and I’ve had ample time to make this work. I pointed out that the next hunt isn’t for three more months, and he told me that doesn’t matter. He and Mom sat down this morning and decided the time limit was shorter now that the boys are married and Simon has a kid on the way.
“I lose Jaja in a week,” I sigh, not sure why that’s upsetting me so much.
Hell, this morning while I was baking scones, I’d decided I was done with this stupid game anyway. I won already, end of story, no matter what anyone else thinks. I should take my victory in spirit and be proud. I don’t know. I’m just out of sorts today I guess, and nothing seems to be going right.
“Honey, you’ve been in a crappy mood for the last two days. Don’t give me some cock-and-bull death glare that you think will make me back off. What the hell is wrong?” Gia insists, grabbing my hands to stop me from frosting another cupcake.
“I got my period,” I mutter, shrugging when she frowns.
“Oh, Lord. I’ll make you some of that tea,” she grumbles, going over to the kettle to flick the switch before she turns back to me.
Today she’s looking really good in a pair of white tights and a black tee that’s long and scruffy and hangs off one shoulder. It still looks great, though, and paired with a pair of sparkly silver flats, some hippie hairdo that’s all waves and height and silky blonde tresses, it makes her look like one of those lucky idiots who are hot no matter what. In comparison, I’m wearing my fat jeans, the ones with the high waist, elastic band and the stretch fit that won’t hurt my bloat. I haven’t brushed my hair so much as I just bundled it onto my head, my feet are in slippers because they’re swollen thanks to water retention only a middle-aged woman should have—and don’t get me started on my face, because I woke up with a zit this morning.
At my age! I got a zit. Freaking life. Why is it so hard?
“I don’t want your crummy period tea, Gia. I just want to get this last batch done so I can go upstairs and sleep the day away.
“Girl, you know that isn’t going to happen. Mom’s already called me twice about family dinner, and she’s got me on salad, so you know she’s serious. And then there’s the whole family also coming,” she says, making me groan out loud and mock-sob, although to be honest, it isn’t quite as mocking as I want it to be.
I could cry right now, dammit. I don’t want to go to dinner with the whole family and listen to them crow about how great their lives are. I don’t want to sit there for hours and pretend I want to be there. Usually I’d want to, or if, like today, I wasn’t feeling it, I’d just pretend and get out after a good-natured night of ribbing everyone. Today? I’m exhausted, I don’t feel well, and I can’t imagine sitting at the dinner table shooting the shit while I feel like this.
“I don’t think I’m going to go, babe,” I admit, finishing off the last cupcake and leaving Gia gaping while I go to fill the last tray in the display and walk over to turn the Open sign.
“You can’t be serious,” Gia says when I go back to the kitchen where she has this funky tea waiting for me.
I shudder as I sip it, the flavor like bark, dead leaves, and old grass. It does help, though, so I force it down despite my nausea and the sweating it brings on.
“Just can’t do it today, G. I don’t feel good. I had to force myself to get out of bed this morning, and that’s only because Mom showed up and threatened to set the place on fire unless I opened the door. My head hurts, my stomach’s not feeling great, and I’m sweating like a beast. I just really don’t feel good, and I don’t want to go tonight while I’m feeling like this,” I sigh, letting myself slump against the counter when it feels like I want to pass out.
“Oh, Lu! Jesus. Are you okay? Honey, you don’t look good,” Gia murmurs, coming over to touch my cheeks where I can feel heat brewing.
No need to freak out! It’s just the red flu, people. I literally get sick when I’m bleeding, and it only stops once I’m done and my body isn’t being attacked by hormones that are trying to kill me.
“I feel like shit, to be honest, and if I could fall sleep on my feet right now, I would,” I mumble, smiling when Gia groans and shakes her head. “Don’t worry. I know you have that thing with the interviewer today,” I tell her.
“I can skip it—”
“Don’t you dare. You’ve always been honest with me about working here permanently, Gia, and I honestly never thought it would last this long. You just landed a major interview with a good company. You’re going. It’s in about three hours—right? Why don’t you go home now to get ready and then prepare a little more. I’ll keep this going, and if worst comes to worst I’ll just turn the closed sign. Screw customers,” I huff, smiling when she grins but chews at her lip worriedly.
“You have the birthday cake for tomorrow… Minnie?”
“Yep. Fifty Minnie Mouse cupcakes and one small candle blower for the parents. I got this.” I wave her off, even though I feel like my head’s about to explode. “Go. Go and get that job, and hopefully by the time the year is done I’ll have the money you invested to give back and I’ll only be indentured to Dad for the next hundred years,” I say ruefully, chuckling when she snorts and shakes her head.
“I told you, I don’t want that money back, Lu. That was for us for the last few years. This place has more than paid me back by keeping me housed, fed and clothed the last few years, honey. I don’t need anything more. Besides, I’ll always come around for free stuff,” she laughs, giving me a wink when I groan.
“Go home. You shouldn’t be here anyway. Why’d you come in this morning?” I ask, finishing the tea with a final shudder and a burp that nearly ends in me being sick.
“Oh, I dunno. To gossip?” she laughs,
blushing while I snort.
“What’s on the agenda? Mom still secretly buying sex toys that she and Dad don’t use because she’s a prude? Aunt Milly still seeing that doctor who thinks aliens are real and she’s seen a shapeshifter?”
“She thinks she saw a shapeshifter?” Gia yells in mock horror before she snorts. “No, dummy. You know I’m besties with Connor and Ginny—right?”
“I still don’t think that’s healthy. That kid deserves a chance to be normal, and you’re not exactly sane—ouch. I was kidding,” I groan, rubbing at my nipple.
At this rate I’m not going to have any left.
“No, dummy. And shut up. She loves me. I was talking about Cameron’s date last night,” she whispers, her eyes watching me for a reaction that I refuse to give.
We’re on a friend break, which basically means I’ve been using my vibrator for a week and pretending I’m not sad that I haven’t seen him. In my defense, I had to do it. I realized when I nearly got arrested by my new best friend’s security team that I wasn’t thinking rationally, and I’ve taken steps to correct that. Plus, Lee warned me that my tendency to overcomplicate things was leading me down a dark path. I have no idea what the hell that means, but I’m pretty sure that ex-nun is a lush, because nothing she says makes a lick of sense. No wonder I’m so messed-up, I think, sighing tiredly because today just isn’t the day for thinking. Sorry, guys, but I’m beat. I’m done. I’m so freaking tired and down right now, all I want to do is go to my bedroom, pull the covers over my head, and sleep until my brain doesn’t feel like it’s diseased.
“What about it?” I ask, trying to appear nonchalant when, you know, that really bugs me.
Okay, so we’ve been texting back and forth for the last week. Don’t you judge me. The man is an amazing friend, and I couldn’t just ignore him. Besides, he sends me photos of Jaja, and that adorable little fluff of allergens is so freaking cute it’s sick. Also, I really like talking to Cameron. The man’s like the biggest ass alive, and the things he says are so dumb, but he’s funny. He’s sweet, he listens, and then he completely overtakes the conversation and tells me everything I could ever want to know about him. And he isn’t humble about it either. In fact, I think one of the most adorable things about Cameron is that he isn’t humble.
He is who he is, and he likes himself. A lot. So much so that I accused him of being vain, and he just laughed and said it’d be disingenuous of him to say he wasn’t great, good-looking or a catch. I couldn’t even argue. That being said, he doesn’t discriminate against others, he has no preconceived notions about people, and his philosophy in life is to give to others, work hard, play hard, and then let God judge him by his actions. I couldn’t argue with that either because the truth is Cameron’s a good guy. He’s giving, something I learned from Gia who told me all about some sort of housing scheme he came up with a few years ago.
Instead of donating money to charity, like most rich folks do, Cameron bought up a whole block of buildings in a poor neighborhood and set about revamping the place. He had buildings fixed and brought up to code, he painted, he extended an apartment block that housed lower-income families, and then he kept the rates low by setting up rent control in those buildings, whether they were apartments or businesses where Mom-and-Pop shops had been operating for years. The money those people pay in rent goes right back to a foundation he set up for college-aged kids to get the opportunity to actually go to school, and that’s without a scholarship program that O’Dare Industries already has in place and without the internship programs the company has already.
According to Gia, the ethos of the whole program is to do for others, not by giving them things they don’t need but by taking care of the basics and letting them earn it, allowing them to keep their sense of worth by not telling them what can and can’t happen. Money is great. It’s easy to give a few bucks to a poor person and walk away, letting them use it as they see fit. I have nothing against that, I don’t, but like my dad once told me when I asked him why he couldn’t just fix a problem for me, “Give a man a fish and you feed him for the day, but teach the man how to fish and you’ve given him a gift that can never be taken away.”
“Earth to Lu,” Gia calls, frowning when I shake off the thoughts and face her. “Honey, you look like shit. Now, that’s nothing new—but you look even shittier than usual,” she sighs, her eyes filled with concern.
“I’m fine. You know how this goes for me.”
“Yeah. Anyway!” she says, brushing off my suffering. “So Cameron goes on this date last night and it was a huuuuge disaster. Huge,” she laughs, stopping me in my tracks because this is interesting.
I mean, just for the sake of knowing, you know? And it’s not like I’m being nosy, but he didn’t tell me this in his last text. But now that I think about it, he was uncommonly reserved about the details. I wonder what happened. She probably had a snaggletooth. I bet that’s it. Cameron is a big teeth guy. He’s clear about that. He once told me that if I have a problem, I’d need to get it looked at because he can’t look at people with weird teeth. It’s like a phobia or something. Maybe her boobs were fake. He hates that too. Hates it. The last time he went on a date with a chick with fake boobies, he told me he literally couldn’t look anywhere but at her chest because he kept having visions of one of them exploding. In fact, he said he was convinced one of her nipples, which was visible through her dress, looked like it was going to uncork, and he was afraid the implant was going to shoot out and knock him in the head. I bet that’s it! But maybe not. She could have had hair extensions. He doesn’t like those either. Says a woman should like her body as it is and not go cutting it up and filling it with things that aren’t real, including hair. But that could just be because he told me that a few years ago he’d been on a date, and when he tried to run his fingers through her hair, his hand got stuck in the extensions.
I bet that’s it. I bet he was so grossed-out—
“…and she’s all hot for it—”
“Wait—what?” I gasp, not understanding what is going on. “How the heck did we get from the date being a disaster to this?”
“You haven’t been listening to me, loser! You’ve been sitting there cackling for about five minutes while you eat cupcakes whole.” Gia snorts, laughing madly when I look down and see three empty cupcake wrappers on the table and feel dough in my teeth.
“Well, I was hungry. And you know how I feel about cupcakes,” I mumble, blushing but refusing to feel shame or embarrassment because I needed that.
I needed one little pick-me-up—
“Anyway, like I was saying. She was sick hot. I mean…” Gia blows out a breath and shakes her head. “The kind of sexy that would make a straight girl stop and have a second thought about dick. They went to dinner at that new place near Collin’s Diner, and Connor and I were there but Cameron didn’t see us because… that doesn’t matter. Anyway! So they’re eating and she’s hot, Lu. I mean, her hair was just amazing and silky and smooth and natural and down to her ass—and her boobs,” she sighs, holding her hands out from her chest.
“Fake,” I grumble, pouting when Gia shakes her head.
“Nope. Totally hers. Real. Perfect. She wasn’t even wearing a bra, and they were sitting high and mighty, which shouldn’t be possible with the size. Even poor Connor was so taken with her looks his eyes were like bugging out on stalks or something,” she snickers, making me grind my teeth because I do not want to hear this.
“And then they’re talking and laughing—”
“He was laughing?” I gasp, the thought so wrong to me I want to scream.
He can’t be laughing and having a good time—okay, now, that’s just irrational thinking, Louisiana. Nuts. So what if he’s having a good time? That’s a good thing. We’re just pals and that’s that.
“Having a blast, and it was going so great that Connor said at one point he’s never seen Cameron have that much fun with a woman. And then—”
“Don’t tell me. I
don’t want to—”
“She leans over and starts to touch him, all sexy like, and he pulls away. At first I thought he’s getting the check or something, ya know? So they can skip dessert of the PG kind. But he was frowning, and then they start to talk, and she gets pissed and jumps up and storms out. Connor called me after and told me that she wanted to… ya know, and Cameron wasn’t up for it. He said he wasn’t into meaningless sex anymore and that he has too much respect for her to pretend that’s where the night was headed.”
“It wasn’t?” I ask, a little confused because when Cam texted me he didn’t seem unhappy about going at all.
“Not even a little. In fact, he’s on some sort of celibacy thing, thanks to you,” Gia laughs, giving me such a smug smirk, I frown.
“Celibacy thing?” I croak.
He can’t be celibate! Dammit. We’re supposed to have dinner in three days. Okay, so, that’s where my mind’s been going, and, dammit, I can’t even go there, even if I was planning to, which I didn’t even know I was planning to and—
“Give me that phone. For God’s sakes! Are you still doing that?” Gia screams, slapping my phone out of my hand so that it falls onto the table and skitters away out of reach.
“Lee says I have to stay focused.”
“You have got to stop listening to Lee, dammit. She’s a quack, and she only makes you tape your conversations so that her and Mom can drink and listen to you whine. They think it’s funny,” Gia snarls, grinning when I gasp. “Oh, please, don’t tell me you didn’t know they were having you on, Lu. Lee isn’t a shrink. She’s a councilor—not a counselor! You’re basically telling her everything about your life for nothing, Lu.”