by Lane Hart
Jeez, it’s good. Since my mother always acted like any place with a drive-thru was the anti-Christ, Abby and I rarely had fast food until she turned sixteen and we would sneak and grab some to go. When Mom found bags and wrappers in the trash, she had a conniption about how fat we were gonna get and then no man would ever love us. God, she can really be a bitch, and I’m so tired of having to deal with her dictating every aspect of my life.
As soon as I can convince Kenneth to help my dad and it’s put in writing, he and I are done. That will also be the end of my mother’s wrath. I’m done being her puppet, and it’s time for me to live my own life, even if I have to, God forbid, get a job so I can move out on my own.
There’s plenty of time to worry about all of that later. For tonight, I just want to enjoy my date with Alex.
I take another cold bite of ice cream, and while my lips are still icy, I turn my head and place a kiss right underneath Alex’s scruffy jawline.
“Thanks for dinner,” I tell him, smiling broadly when that simple contact causes his entire body to shudder.
Chuckling, he says, “Damn, your lips are cold.” And then, “Do that again.”
I press my lips to his skin once more, tasting the slight hint of his masculine soap or aftershave. This time, though, I let my tongue linger a little longer while trailing my hand down the top of his muscular thigh.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Alex groans, his deep and rumbly voice giving me tingles in my panties.
I don’t get to tease him with anymore kisses to his jaw. Instead, Alex grabs the side of my face to tilt it up and fiercely attacks my lips. The way our tongues caress and tangle is so hot it could make more of my hair singe right off.
After several amazing minutes, Alex pulls away, leaving me wanting more.
“Are you ready to head back?” he asks with a knowing grin as he stares down at me while I’m still obviously woozy from his head-spinning kiss.
“Sure, I mean, if you are,” I tell him, unable to look away from those shimmering silver eyes.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he says, practically scrambling out of the booth. I know why he’s in a hurry to get back to the apartment; and on the drive back, I keep asking myself if I’m going to sleep with him.
Since the automatic answer to that question is not a resounding yes, I become a little concerned.
I want to stay the night with Alex, yet there’s something holding me back.
Most likely, it’s the fact that I’m dating another man, even if I don’t have feelings for him and have a good reason for seeing him and not telling Alex. I guess I could tell Alex, but then he wouldn’t understand the type of pressure I’m under right now to make this deal go through. He may even say he doesn’t want to date me anymore, which would be awful since thinking about him has been the best part of my week. So, I don’t want to do anything that will push him away while things are already precarious because of my big mouth.
Until the deal goes through for my dad, I’ll just have to put things on hold with Alex. How long could it take to secure a few million dollars? A few weeks? Hopefully not much longer than that. It will suck, but at least I won’t feel guilty when we finally do sleep together.
Decision unfortunately made, I keep my hands on the steering wheel, the seatbelt remains secured, and the car keeps running after I park in front of Alex’s apartment.
“You’re not coming in?” he asks when he opens his door.
“Not tonight,” I tell him, the words painful to say.
“Oh.”
Just one word and I can hear Alex’s disappointment loud and clear.
“Anything I can do to change your mind?” he asks.
“Nah. I think I just want to head home and watch I Love Lucy reruns on the Hallmark channel alone tonight,” I lie quickly.
“Wait. Does that mean what I think it means?” Alex asks.
“Huh?” I mutter in confusion right before our conversation from earlier plays back through my mind. “Oh, no, not that,” I declare before I give it real consideration. “Well, maybe.”
“Maybe!” Alex exclaims, both of his eyebrows shooting up.
“A girl can’t…say maybe once in a while?”
“A girl can say maybe whenever she wants, but now I’ll be thinking about you…saying maybe and wondering if you’re…”
“Touching myself?” I finally offer up instead of continuing to beat around the bush.
Swallowing hard and making his Adam’s apple bob, Alex nods and says, “Yeah, that.”
“If you want to watch it while I watch at home, maybe we could do it together? On the phone?” I offer.
“Could I pretend to watch?” he asks with a cringe. “It’s just, I don’t think I could get myself off with that show on in the background.”
“Fine,” I relent with a roll of my eyes since I wasn’t planning to actually watch while masturbating. Eww. “Just go. And call me,” I tell Alex.
“How long does it take you to get home?” he asks.
“Not as quick as it would if you would stop asking questions and get out of my car,” I answer, only half teasing. “And it’s about fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, talk to you soon,” he says, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before he climbs out and shuts the car door.
Am I disappointed I won’t be fooling around with Alex in his bed tonight? Hell yes. But there’s plenty of time for that later, as long as he still wants to keep seeing me. And even though I’m heading home to spend the night alone in my bedroom, there’s still a goofy grin on my face knowing Alex is going to call.
Doubts, like he’s just horny and wants to get laid, try to pop my happy bubble, but I don’t let them. I have to trust that he’s looking for more than a quick fling to get his sausage wet. If he wants to talk to me on the phone, then I take that as a good sign. Besides, as hot as Alex is, he could find a girl to screw tonight if he wanted. Yet, all he says he likes to do is train at Havoc.
While Abby’s husband Senn may be making a decent living at fighting for the moment, he and Abby both know that it can’t be a long-term financial endeavor. Senn will eventually get old and slow, and the league won’t pay him money to fight anymore. I think that’s why Abby insists on growing her wedding planning business even though she would prefer to stay home with their daughter Eden.
I never want to have to decide between my children and a job. Unlike my mother, who stayed at home and yet still had a full-time nanny to care for Abby and me, I would be the only one to care for my babies. I would take them to parks and zoos, doing anything and everything we could afford to do for fun. The husband in that dream scenario would work and provide for us, hopefully in a job with plenty of flexibility so that he could take an afternoon off to come with us to the playground or whatever else.
My father has always been married to his career more than my mother. Not that she seems to mind having free rein to spend his money without him around. It wasn’t uncommon for Dad to work seventy hour weeks, including weekends. Hell, he probably does half that now even after his heart attack.
First things first, if my father is home tonight, I’m going to confront him before I get on the phone with Alex. Since Mom told me about his heart scare, I’ve only seen him once at dinner with Kenneth. It’s time that he gives me some answers.
Marching through the front door of the house on a mission, I find my father in his study, on his cell phone. His thin frame looks like he’s lost more weight, and his brown hair seems grayer, making me wonder if his condition is actually under control.
With a heavy sigh, I flop down into the leather chair in the corner and wait for him to hang up. I hear my phone buzzing in my purse on the floor at least twice, and know it’s Alex.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing my favorite youngest daughter?” Dad asks when he eventually hangs up, making me smile at his phrasing since I know he tells Abby she’s his favorite oldest daughter.
“How are you feeling?” I a
sk.
A wrinkle forms between his dark eyes before he responds. “Fine. Why do you ask?”
“I know about the heart attack,” I tell him softly. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Blowing out a breath, he leans back in his tall throne-like chair with his hands behind his head. “I asked your mom not to worry you with that mess.”
“Not worry? How could I not worry? You could’ve died!” I exclaim.
“I don’t know about all that,” he replies. “The doctors fixed me up, and I’m as good as new.”
“No, you’re not,” I tell him, facing the realization that my parents are getting older and it sucks. Well, it sucks for my father. I can’t wait until my mom wrinkles up like an old dried up raisin. “What if something else happens? Shouldn’t you take some time off from work?”
“I just…can’t,” he says, lowering his hands and placing them on the keys of the laptop on his desk. “Merchant Industries is tanking, our cell phone technology is outdated, and I’m the only one who can save it, along with the jobs of all the employees.”
“With Kenneth’s investment?” I ask.
“Yeah, if I can convince him to come up with the five million we need,” he says. “How did you know about that?” His tired face contorts from confusion to understanding in seconds. “Your mother. Is that why you agreed to date him? Did she…did she expect you to whore yourself out?” he exclaims, getting to his feet, his face turning red with anger when he quickly comprehends her plan. And, dammit, that can’t be good for his heart. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“No, that’s not what’s going on,” I assure him even though it’s a partial truth. There is no way I’m sleeping with Kenneth. “I like him. He seems like a…decent guy.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want her meddling in this,” he says, lowering his voice and thankfully calming down as he retakes his seat.
“I wanted to go out with Kenneth,” I lie. “She just asked me to be home Saturday night when he came over for dinner so the two of us could meet. The rest was completely up to me.”
Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he says, “It sounds like something your mother would concoct, instead of trusting me when I tell her that I’ve got everything under control without her scheming or manipulating anyone.”
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “She’s not playing matchmaker with me anymore. I won’t let her.”
“Good. It’s time for her to let you make your own decisions.”
“I agree,” I tell him as I stand up. “So, I guess I’ll let you get back to work. Will you just promise me you won’t overdo it?”
“I promise,” he agrees. “There are a few things I need to finalize over the coming weeks, and then I’m going to take your mother to Paris.”
“Ooh, sounds fun,” I tell him. “Just go easy until then, okay? Are you still seeing a doctor to make sure your heart is all right?”
“I have an appointment Friday,” he says, eyes back on his computer, telling me I’m out of time and our conversation is over.
Before I leave, I go around to the other side of his desk and give him a quick hug. “Love you,” I say.
“Love you too, Whit,” he replies with a pat on my arm before I pull it away and head upstairs.
Chapter Sixteen
Alex
She didn’t answer.
I called Whitney twenty-five minutes after she left, just to make sure she had plenty of time to get home.
What if something’s wrong? Oh, God. What if she was in a car wreck? Whitney is pretty damn accident prone.
I flop down on my bed and am getting ready to call her again when the phone in my hand thankfully rings.
“Hello?” I answer right away.
“Hey,” Whitney says softly, sounding sad. “Sorry I missed your call. I was talking to my dad.”
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replies flatly, but I’m not convinced.
Stretching out on my back with the phone to my ear, I know that we probably won’t be having phone sex. And that’s okay with me.
“Seriously, Whit. What’s wrong?”
Her sigh floats across the phone line before she opens up. “My dad had a heart attack…”
“Holy shit! Is he okay?” I ask, sitting up in concern, surprised Whitney’s not freaking out right now.
“Yeah, he’s okay. It happened several weeks back, but I just found out a few days ago.”
“Wow. Why didn’t he tell you?”
“They didn’t want to worry Abby and me, or so they say,” she confides in me. “And he’s still working!”
“Hmm. That sounds like something my dad would do too,” I admit, lying back down and getting comfortable.
“So your dad is a workaholic too?” she asks.
“Oh yeah. He spends more time at the office than at home, even though he doesn’t have to work those long hours,” I admit. “Always has since me and my sister were little.”
“Same here,” Whitney tells me.
“I think my dad likes to just constantly stay busy so that there’s less time for him to think about my mother,” I confess to her, vocalizing that notion to someone for the first time.
“Why? Are they not…together?” she asks hesitantly.
“She died when I was three, a few months after my sister Mackenzie was born.”
With a gasp, Whitney says, “Oh, God, I’m sorry, Alex.”
“It’s okay. I don’t really remember her.”
“What happened to her, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Staring at the white ceiling above me, I tell her, “No, it’s fine. Dad said she went out jogging one morning, and as she was crossing an intersection, a teenager came along and wasn’t paying attention. He drove through the red light and hit her. She was in a coma for a few days before she passed.”
“Oh, wow. That’s awful,” Whitney says.
“In a way, I’m sort of glad I don’t remember her or the accident so I can’t miss her,” I admit. “Does that make me an asshole?”
“What? No. The fact that you were so young was probably for the best.”
“My dad still misses her and never remarried. Actually, I don’t think he’s ever dated anyone else after all these years,” I tell her.
“He must have really loved her,” she remarks.
“Yeah, he did,” I reply, and then realize I’ve gotten us off the original subject. “Sorry to bring up all that. We were supposed to be talking about your dad and his heart.”
“No, I don’t mind,” she says.
“How are you doing, now that you know?” I ask.
“Well, I’m angry they kept it from me, but I guess I can’t be mad at my dad. Now, I worry that he’ll get stressed out with work and have another heart attack.”
“Can’t he take some time off?”
“He could but he won’t. I talked to him tonight, and he’s in the middle of a deal, but after that’s over, he said he’s taking my mother on vacation.”
“That’s good, and hopefully he’s under the care of a good cardiologist who will keep monitoring him to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” I offer.
“Hopefully. Now I sort of feel guilty for not telling my sister, but my mom doesn’t want to upset her or anything since she’s had leukemia twice…”
“Damn, that sucks. I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” I tell her.
“Yeah, she just went into remission about a year ago, right after Eden was born and she had a bone marrow transplant.”
“I bet that was incredibly tough on your family and Senn, huh?”
“It was. We almost lost her, but thankfully Eden was a perfect match and saved her.”
“That’s amazing. It sounds like your family has bad luck when it comes to your health; your sister having cancer, your dad having heart trouble, and you being accident prone.”
Giving a small laugh, Whitney says, “Yeah, we’ve all had issues, except for my mother. Alth
ough, her condition is terminal.”
“Oh really?” I ask in concern.
“I know it must sound horrible for me to say this to you with everything that happened to your mom, but my mother is sort of a bitch.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “That bad?”
“Gah! You have no idea the hell that woman puts me through. Some days I’ve considered just running away to get rid of her. But knowing her, she would just track me down.”
“Then it must be pretty bad if you consider going out on your own. I didn’t really have a choice. My dad kicked me out…”
“He kicked you out?” Whitney exclaims.
“Yeah, kicked me out and cut me off,” I admit. “So now you know why I’m broke.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that…”
“It’s fine. I’m doing okay for myself. I haven’t starved to death, and there’s a roof over my head and a pretty comfy bed to sleep in.”
“So how are you getting by?” Whitney asks curiously.
“Few odd jobs here and there,” I say rather than admit to waiting tables. “And now that Luke’s moved in with me, he’s paying half of all the expenses, so that helps.”
“Sorry for what I said earlier, about having goals and a plan. Guess that can’t be easy to do when you’re just trying to make ends meet,” she says, not sounding the least bit like a snobby rich girl.
“It’s not, but I’ll figure it all out,” I assure her. “Believe me; I have no intentions of living like this forever.”
“Maybe the fighting thing will work out,” she offers encouragingly.
“Doubtful, but maybe I can make some sort of career from it, like training or whatever. Who knows?”
“That’s more of a direction than what I have going for me,” she says.
“Isn’t there some hobby or activity you like doing?” I ask.
“I like kids, but I can’t see myself as a teacher.”
“See, that’s a start,” I point out.
“Maybe,” she replies. “Well, I better get to bed. Sorry I wasn’t up for phone sex tonight.”