Car Crash

by T Gephart

  I wasn’t even sure why I’d woken up, my eyes flying open at seven like they’d been pre-programmed to do so. It had been like that on both Sunday and Monday, thinking back to Saturday morning where I was sitting in Kitty’s kitchen eating breakfast. I’d been almost hoping if I woke up at that hour, bacon and coffee would miraculously appear like it had that day. But I was sadly disappointed when not only was there no smell of bacon grease or freshly brewed coffee wafting through my apartment, but there was no Kitty in it as well.

  Not only had I been inflicted by the need to wake early, I’d barely left my apartment the entire two days. No bars, no clubs—just sitting on my couch watching television like an old man.

  And Mason assured me the celibacy thing wasn’t catchy, yeah, right.

  “Well whatever the reason, I’m glad.” Josh reached out and popped me in the arm. “And since you have some time before your first appointment, maybe you can go through the supply closet and see what needs reordering.”

  “C’mon, man.” I tossed up my hands in protest. “Isn’t good behavior supposed to be rewarded, not punished? And besides, I’ve got some artwork I’m working on so was hoping to get some time at the desk.”

  “For a client?”

  “For Kitty.”

  “Ahhhhh, yes Kitty. So what’s happening there? You guys still friends?” Something in his tone pissed me off, made even worse by the smirk he was wearing.

  “Yes, we’re still friends, dipshit,” I fired back, the barb hitting me a little harder than he’d probably intended it to. “We just really like hanging out. But I am totally doing her next tattoo, and unlike you, I don’t need someone else’s ideas.”

  “Dallas, she literally asked me for Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. You do realize when putting something on a person for life that you give them what the hell they ask for, right?”

  “Tell yourself whatever you like, J,” I scoffed. “But I’m going to give her my own masterpiece.”

  He didn’t bother arguing, instead nodding in agreement. “Can’t wait to see it.”

  “Hey guys, did I miss a staff meeting?” Mason walked in, all smiles with a backpack strapped to his shoulder like it was his first day of school.

  Josh tipped his chin hello. “Nope, just giving Dallas a hard time. Why don’t you go get settled in your room and I’ll be in there in a minute to give you the rundown for the week.”

  “Yep, sounds good.” More smiles. “See you guys in a minute.” He gave us a wave as he strolled down the hall.

  I waited until the door shut. “Hey, give me a second with the new guy.”

  “D,” Josh warned, his face harder than his tone. “I thought you agreed to be nice to him, you were great last week, please don’t screw it up now.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I held up my hands defensively, shocked he’d think I’d be giving the kid a hard time. Sure, that had originally been my plan, but I was a changed man. Well, mostly. And what the hell was I going to do? Haze him with a tattoo machine? Besides, all I wanted to do was chat.

  Just talk.

  And that was something he loved to do apparently, so what was the fucking harm?

  Yep, no harm at all—or so I kept telling myself.

  “I just want to ask him about his weekend, see how he’s settling in. Since he’s always trying to impress you, I figured he’d be more relaxed if it was just me and him.”

  The relief in Josh’s face was instant, the tension in his shoulders coming down a notch too. “Sorry, dude. I just assumed—”

  “The worst.” I finished for him. “I told you I would be cool, and I’m going to keep my word. Maybe just trust me, okay?” I added, slightly hurt that he’d think I’d really do something to jeopardize his business. Fun and games were one thing, but I wouldn’t screw him over.

  “Again, sorry. That’s my bad. And I do trust you.” He had the decency to look sorry, throwing his hand out and waiting for mine.

  I grabbed it, giving it a shake before letting go. “Okay, now let me go talk to the new guy before he assumes we’re out here talking about him.”

  “We kind of are,” Josh laughed.

  I flipped him off, turning around and heading down the hall.

  Mason had set up his room so meticulously I wasn’t sure if he planned to tattoo in it or shoot a photo feature for Ink Magazine. His desk was angled so he could see the door, while his tattooing chair took prominence in the middle of the room. He’d lined the walls with glossy pictures, but instead of them just being snapshots of his work, they were professional photos mounted in frames.

  “You do realize it’s Josh’s fiancée who owns the gallery, not him?” I pointed to the walls, the pictures obviously going up when I’d been too distracted to notice.

  Mason raised his head, following my line of sight to his previous work on display. “Ha, yeah. One of my buddies was studying photography in college so I let him shoot my work. Kind of worked out for both of us, he got portfolio pieces and I—”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” I interrupted him, not wanting to hear any more of the fucking story. “So what did you do this weekend?” I asked the question, praying to God he wasn’t going to give me an itemized account of every hour.

  He looked at me curiously, like he didn’t trust the question. “Ummm, I hung out with my sister, brother-in-law and my niece.”

  “The entire weekend?” My eyes widened, wondering why the hell a guy new to the city would spend the whole time he had off playing house. You’d think he’d go out for a little while—meet some new people, go “talk” to women so he could get to know them. All he did was sit in his sister’s house?

  He eyed the door, rising to his feet cautiously as he swung his gaze back to me. “Did something happen?”

  “Did something happen?” I laughed, taking the few steps from the door to his desk and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. “Yes, something fucking happened. What kind of voodoo shit did you do to me?”

  He might have been bigger than me but I didn’t care, my head not quite right since I’d walked out of Kitty’s apartment. While I agreed with her and our plan to be just friends, I hadn’t planned to put my dick into retirement. And yet every single time I even thought about going out and finding some action, I couldn’t make myself get out the door. It was like I’d been hexed, an invisible force field put around me that stopped me from going out and finding a good time.

  “What are you talking about, Dallas?” His eyes dropped to my hand still on his shirt. “I didn’t even see you this weekend.”

  “You didn’t do anything?” I barked at a laugh. “Then why the hell since that night at the bar haven’t I been able to go and find random women and get laid? It’s like you got into my head and messed up shit in there.”

  His brow scrunched in confusion. “This is about you having sex?”

  “Well we all know you’re sure as shit not having any. Yes, it’s about me.” I let go of his shirt, frustrated. “Ever since that shit you said, I’m having problems.” I huffed out a breath and stalked around the room.

  “You can’t get an erection?”

  Goddamnit. Why did I have to promise Josh I wouldn’t kill the guy? Clearly he was begging for it.

  “I can get an erection just fine, dipshit,” I warned, prepared to pull out my dick just to prove the point. “I’ve been hard so often I’m astounded I still had enough circulation in my legs to walk.”

  “Then what do you mean?” His eyes followed me as I continued my restless pace around his room.

  My chest heaved out a heavy breath wondering if I was going to have to draw a fucking diagram. “It means, I sat in my apartment the entire weekend like you did. I didn’t want to go out and get laid. And trust me, before you and that “talk,” I always wanted to go out and get laid. Now what the hell did you do to me? Did you freaking hypnotize me? Am I going to cluck like a freaking chicken?”

  Incidentally, it had been one of the things I’d seen on television. Some dude in Vega
s was able to get people to do what he wanted them to do just by whispering some words in their ear. They weren’t even words that would flag suspicion, just some random mind-altering bullshit that gave him the ability to burrow into their head like a worm.

  “Dallas, I swear to you, I didn’t do anything. I wouldn’t know how to hypnotize someone if I tried. Honest, all I did that night was talk.”

  “Then why?”

  “Do you think that maybe some of what I said possibly made sense and resonated with you?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I mean, maybe speaking to me, got you thinking that you want something more than just random sex?”

  “See, this is exactly the kind of shit I mean.” I held my fingers up in a cross, backing away to the door. “Keep out of my head.”

  I didn’t wait for his response, hightailing out of there before he could do any more damage. We just talked, my ass!

  As I shut the door to my room, I cursed out a “fuck” and continued my agitated pacing in my space. He might be unwilling to admit it, but something wasn’t right. There was no fucking way I was going to tell him about Kitty, because A. I didn’t know the bastard enough to trust him, and B. I didn’t want his paws on anything to do with her. But before that night he and I had gone out, Kitty and I had been on track to help each other avoid the crazies on our random hook ups. I wasn’t trying to get to know anyone better and I wasn’t making deals to fuck someone a month later who I ended up fucking before then anyway. And I didn’t feel like shit when I walked out the door of a woman’s apartment after we’d had sex. I swear to God, if his bullshit had screwed things up between Kitty and me, I was going to put his head through a wall. Because, none of this had happened before.

  It was all his doing, putting ideas into my head and making me second guess myself. And he had the nerve to think he wasn’t responsible?

  Whatever, champ.

  Kitty

  I’D ALMOST FORGOTTEN ABOUT JD EASTON.

  His name being something I’d looked for after our chance meeting at the elevator. So it was just as big of a surprise when I almost plowed into him for a second time.

  “Shit.” It slipped out of my mouth as my face met a chest. “Sorry.” My eyes flicking up and seeing it was him.

  “Kitty.” He said my name with a smile. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, people are going to start talking.” His laugh was both charming and infectious.

  “Ahhh.” Do not say his name and admit you cyber stalked him. “It’s you, from the other day. Sorry, we didn’t have a chance to properly meet.”

  His arms steadied me as I backed away, giving me a minute before he let go. “I’m Justin, Justin Easton. And I didn’t get a chance because you were on the phone. Lucky for me, this time around I have your full attention.”

  His eyes followed the lines of my body up and down, pausing when they got to my breasts. His smile widened, bringing his focus back to my face with the attention he had bragged I was giving him.

  I laughed, amused at how brazen he was being. He wasn’t even hiding the fact he was flirting. “You lawyers are all the same, and you could have still introduced yourself. I can multi task.”

  “How do you know I’m a lawyer?” he asked, my big ass mouth advertising my extra-curricular research that I had managed to avoid earlier.

  Crap.

  “Lucky guess?” I smiled, hoping he was too busy flirting to ask too many questions. “I figured it was that or a stockbroker on Wall Street, the suit gave you away.”

  “Wow, I do work on Wall Street. You’re really good at this game.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, not suspecting anything despite my little slip.

  No more, Kitty. I reprimanded myself. “I’m thinking of setting up a little booth somewhere and charging fifty dollars to read people’s fortunes.” I chuckled trying to not sound as nervous as I was.

  Despite him being attractive and obviously interested, it wasn’t either of those things that made me nervous. No, not only had I been off since Dallas left my apartment on Saturday morning but I didn’t want to inadvertently reveal that I had gone through the company’s central appointment system to find out who he was. Thank God, I wasn’t stupid enough to search him in the company database. While me looking at the appointment schedule wouldn’t raise any red flags, searching for a client I or my boss had nothing to do with would have definitely earned me some questions.

  “And what do you see in my future?” he asked, his lips quipping into a smile as he leaned in. He smelled nice, but not like Dallas. His scent was polished, his cologne obviously expensive, tickling my nose as I breathed it in.

  I pressed a finger to my lips, taking a minute to guess. “An appointment?”

  It was lame, but I figured it was better than trying to flirt back. Not because he wasn’t exceptionally hot, but my work place wasn’t a pick-up joint. I’d made the mistake once with Oliver, and I wouldn’t risk my job for anyone else.

  “Maybe I over estimated your ability.” He chuckled. “I was hoping you’d say dinner with me.”

  If I thought he was brazen before, he’d reached an entirely new level with that line. Not that I hadn’t been around assertive men in the past, and sometimes, it was actually kind of hot. But other than my name, the guy knew nothing about me.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t date . . .” What was he? A client? One the firm’s lawyers? “People I meet at work.” I finally settled on, not wanting to be outright rude, but not encouraging the situation either.

  “Well then lucky for you, you probably won’t be seeing me here again. I just completed my business with the firm.”

  If what I’d said had meant to be a rejection, he sure didn’t take it that way. He continued to smile and made no effort to leave.

  “I guess I really won’t be seeing you again.” I couldn’t decide if I was glad or disappointed. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

  He took my have-a-nice-day and ignored it, adjusting his tie. “Why don’t you meet me tonight at The Knight’s Templar for a drink. Six o’clock?”

  “Other than your name and your occupation, I don’t even know you. What makes you think I’m going to go to a bar for a drink?” I scoffed, a little impressed by his amazing self-esteem.

  He might have been cocky, but he wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t demanded anything or made any suggestive advances. In fact, both times we’d crashed into each other it was because I was barreling through without looking where I was going. And despite his obvious attempts at flirting, he’d not once tried to be improper, keeping his hands and all other parts of his body to himself.

  “I’d give you more of an introduction, but you already said you don’t date people you meet at work. Therefore, our official meeting won’t be happening here.” And without waiting for my answer, he strolled past me and went into the elevator, the metal doors making him disappear.

  Two weeks ago I would have been high-fiving myself and been excited for the invitation. He was good looking, had a job and chances were a lawyer didn’t have a criminal record. All excellent points which would make going out with him a good idea. Plus, I’d totally been attracted to him, our brief encounter the first time running into each other, prompting me to super sleuth until I got his name. That wasn’t the behavior of a woman who wasn’t interested, so of course him asking me out should be awesome. And, whatever business he’d had with Braxton Hill was over, which meant I didn’t have to worry about any conflict of interest, completely taking away any concern I had of breaking any company policy. So why—with all those positive ticks in the yes column—had I even hesitated?

  He hadn’t asked me to sign over the next twenty years of my life, or meet him in a secluded warehouse in Harlem. It was a drink in a popular bar in Manhattan, where there’d be lots of other people around. He hadn’t even asked for my address or phone number. So if I decided to go have that drink and then pretended to go to the bathroom and slipped out the door, he’d hav
e no way of contacting me. Unless he decided to come to my work—a place he admitted he no longer had business at—and tracked me down like a stalker. Which meant he couldn’t randomly turn up on my doorstep or call me three thousand times asking why.

  It was not only safe, but came with completely no expectations. No strings, no complications and best of all, he seemed sort of nice. Not in a boring way like Lani’s boyfriend Cameron, but nice in that he was good looking and didn’t seem like a dick.

  So why the hell was I not excited?

  “Probably because of Dallas, you moron,” the voice in my head whispered.

  No, I wouldn’t become that girl.

  The kind that had feelings for a guy when we’d decided to be friends.

  Accepting I was acting ridiculous, I decided to get back to work and resolved that I would be meeting Justin for a drink.

  One.

  He deserved that. And if nothing else it would give me something interesting to do that night, not having made any plans. And if it all went to shit and he ended up being a douche just like all the other guys I’d dated, I’d kick him to the curb and move on.

  Missing the excitement the decision should have given me, I squared my shoulders and walked into my boss’s office. Garrett was sitting behind his desk flipping through the property section of a newspaper.

  “You know you’ll find more current listings online.” I smiled, sitting in my usual spot opposite his desk. “They’re able to include color photos and more details without having to worry about printing space.”

  His eyes rose, shaking his head as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know that, Kitty, but if I’m online I get interrupted by emails and interoffice memos. I like the idea of being able to take a minute and enjoy the paper.”

  Garrett hadn’t become CEO through a fancy degree or family prestige; he’d worked his way up the company the old fashioned way. He’d started at the bottom and clawed his way to the top, learning as he went along. But in recent times, he was starting to show a decline. He was impatient with computer programs and people, and hated sitting in on meetings. And while he was the one still leading the company, I was doing more than I should be as his assistant.