Thinking about it, I was shocked to realize that not only had I never had a boyfriend, but I don’t think I’d had an actual date—the kind that hadn’t been planned as merely the precursor to a scheduled tumble in the sheets—since high school. This dinner with Mark was my first actual adult date, a fact that suddenly made me a bit sad.
“Don’t be sad! We can still turn this around into great after-dinner sex!” said Vagina, who was then echoed by her pervy cohorts.
I needed Guilt back to remind me why having a boyfriend was a terrible idea and was totally unfair to a guy like Mark—a guy who, I was coming to realize, was quite wonderful.
But this kind of thinking was getting me nowhere, so I had to back this truck up and get back into the good time I’d been having. And what better way to accomplish this than to talk about his double-crossing dad who was about to get bitch-slapped by Karma? I don’t know why everybody assumes I’m so sweet.
“So tomorrow’s the day, huh?” I asked as I scooped up the last forkful of chocolate cake. He even let me have the last bite—what in the hell is a girl supposed to do with that?!
“Yeah,” he said, scratching the little bit of scruff on his chin. “I think Jake and I are going to have to admit defeat and let my mom go in by herself. But we will definitely be listening outside that door in case he goes off on her.”
“I think that’s smart to let her go in alone.”
“Oh you do, do you? What a surprise.” He grinned at me. I wanted to kiss that grin right off his face.
“Yes, I do. She needs to finish this on her own terms,” I said in all seriousness.
“Well, I’m so glad you approve, Shortcake.” He gave a little bow.
“You sound so sincere,” I responded with a tilt of my head.
“Then I didn’t say it right.” He flagged the waiter for our check with that damn grin still planted on his stupid hot face.
“Oh shut up.” That was my brilliant come-back. Awesome. “What do you think he’ll do?”
“There’s not a whole lot he can do. That’s the beauty of it.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ll be there to back your mom up in case there’s trouble.”
“I’d never let her get hurt.” His tone was quiet and serious.
I had no response.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cleanup in Room 437
MARK
I was a little disappointed I let dinner end on such a sober note because up to that point it had been damn fun. Fiona loved her food, something I’d already known from her cooking and road trip binging, but it was great seeing her in her element. She fought me for the last egg and moaned her way through her main course so I had little option but to let her eat most of the dessert while I watched and tried not to get hard. What I didn’t understand was how the girl stayed so tiny with the way she ate. I guess she somehow burned it off by running her mouth like she does—something I was now finding to be mostly charming as opposed to irritating, as I’d first thought.
I held her hand on the way outside and kept a firm grip when she tried to pry hers apart. After a huff and an accompanying eye roll, she relented and didn’t try to pull away again until I helped her into the truck. She fidgeted for the entirety of the short ride back to her place.
“Shortcake, I can actually hear you thinking, you’re doing it so hard,” I said as I pulled into a parking spot a block away from her building.
She scoffed and released her seatbelt. “For your information, I was thinking about my mother,” she lied—poorly.
“Oh?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
I let that sit for a minute while I went around and helped her out of the truck. Her hand wasn’t shaking as it had been when we’d gotten to the restaurant, but she was definitely flustered.
“So, were you thinking about how to tell your mother about the guy you’re about to invite up to your bed?”
That earned me an indignant gasp and an arm punch. Totally worth it.
While she was busy assaulting me, I cut in with, “Because if that’s the case, you won’t have much to say. You can, however, tell her about the guy who took you to dinner because he likes you and enjoys your company. The same guy who is going to walk you to your door and kiss you goodnight—and then, tomorrow, he’ll call and ask for another date. That guy, you can tell her about.”
I don’t know that I’ve ever actually seen a person sputter, but that is the best way to describe the sounds that came out of Fiona’s mouth at that moment. I may have done the impossible and rendered her speechless. I pulled her along the sidewalk while she tried to recover. This time she didn’t even attempt pulling away.
I was as good as my word and after a hot fucking kiss that began to stray into groping territory, I unlocked her condo door and gently pushed her inside while she stared up at me with lust-glazed eyes. I’m sure mine were a mirror image.
Now I was headed home but figured a call to Jake was in order.
“Yo, dickhead!” he greeted as usual.
“Hey, shit-for-brains. I’m calling about tomorrow. You come to any conclusions?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to storm in there and let him have it and the other part of me would be happy to never lay eyes on him again. The only conclusion I’ve been able to come to is that we need to make sure Mom comes out of it unscathed.”
“Ditto. I think we’re gonna have to let her go in like she wants. But no matter what she says, you and I will be right outside the door, not waiting in the car like a pair of douchebags.”
“Damn straight. You want to tell her or do you want me to?”
“You go ahead. I’m headed home and I need some shut-eye. What time are we going over?”
“I think she said 10:30.”
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you two there unless I hear differently before then.”
“Sure thing. Later.”
“Later.”
The next morning, I rolled up to the medical building and parked my truck in the space next to my mom’s car. My nerves were tight and I couldn’t wait to get this over with. I’d had a hard time sleeping, despite my level of exhaustion from the week’s activities. My mind had kept wandering to the various possible outcomes today could have held had we not recovered the money. My gut burned with fury over my father’s intended plan to take the money and let my mom fall prey to whatever the goons had in mind.
The only thing that cheered me was knowing that even if he had gotten the money, his idiotic plan involved handing it right over to another group of con artists. In other words, he’d be eyeballs deep in shit regardless. I believe that was the thought that had finally let me drift off around two this morning.
I found Jake and our mom in the main lobby and I had to do a double-take. Was she wearing makeup? I took her in from head to toe and realized that not only had she done her face up, but she was wearing a stylish outfit that looked new and fit her perfectly. The blouse was a deep blue, and the black skirt hit just above the knee, showing off her legs and—holy shit, she was wearing heels. Not Shortcake-height heels, but heels nonetheless. What had happened to my mother?
She spotted me and gave me a nervous smile and a little wave. Jake was pacing beside her and only spared me a quick glance as I approached.
“You look pretty,” I told my mother as I bent to kiss her cheek. “You ready for this? Jake and I can always—” I began, but she cut me off.
“Absolutely not. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Let’s get this over with then,” grumbled Jake, and we all headed for the elevator with him leading the way.
Outside room 437, my mom gave our hands one last squeeze and then she slipped through the door. This was really happening. Finally.
The sound of her heels clicking toward the far side of the room reverberated in my skull and I stopped breathing for a moment so I could hear everything.
“Jim.” Okay, good strong voice—confident.
; “Thank God! It’s about time. I was starting to get—wow, look at you!” He sounded completely surprised. Ha! Eat your heart out, old man!
“I have some news.” She plowed right on through.
“Please tell me you got the money.” His voice came out weak and a bit whiney.
“I did,” she replied.
“Thank God.” I could hear his relieved exhale all the way out in the hallway. I glanced around to see if anybody else was paying attention to us. The hall was empty.
“I did…” she repeated, drawing out the words, “but then there was an unfortunate run-in with the guys you borrowed it from. They weren’t too keen on me keeping it.”
“What the fuck?! That’s why I told you to come earlier this week before they had a chance to come to the house and take it!”
I moved to enter the room, but Jake held me back. “Give her another minute.” Where he’d suddenly found his calm was beyond me. I was on fucking fire.
“Is that so?” my mother asked, as smooth as can be. “What made you think they were coming to my house? According to our last conversation they didn’t even know about me.”
“I don’t know…they didn’t!” he tried to cover. “Fuck! The fucking money! Did they take it all?”
“They took the money before it even made it across the state line, not at my house! And I’m afraid I have nothing to give you, so you’ll just have to figure out something else.”
“B…but,” he began again, “what about your money—the money you’re investing?”
“Oh, that? Well, I think I’ve changed my mind. I’m not too fond of the kind of people you associate with,” she responded breezily.
“Well what in the fucking hell am I supposed to do now?!” the asshole shouted.
Jake had to hold me back again.
“I haven’t the first idea, Jim. But I can tell you what you’re not going to do.” Her voice had suddenly turned icy, her words cutting the air in a tone I’d never heard from her before. “You are not going to contact me ever again, and you are not going to set foot in this city again.
“Then you are going to forget that you ever had a wife and two sons, something that should be habit by now anyway. And lastly, when you get served with divorce papers later today, you are going to sign those damn things as fast as possible so I can get on with my life,” she practically hissed at him.
What the fuck? I looked to Jake only to find that he was just as surprised as I was. He shook his head at me and we kept eavesdropping.
“Well then, I think I’ve said everything I need to say so I’m heading out. And if you want one more piece of advice, you should figure out how to walk soon because I know more than a few people who want you gone even more than I do. And a couple of them could bench press you with one hand tied behind their backs.”
The sound of her clicking heels resumed, followed by our father’s pathetic pleading.
“Kelly, wait! You can’t just ditch me here!” This was followed by a thump and a cry of pain, but the heels never faltered.
Our mom came strutting out of the room and right past us toward the elevators. We were both struck stupid and it took us a moment to get our feet in gear. Still ahead of us, she passed by a nurse.
“You may want to check on the man in 437. I think he might have fallen out of bed.” The nurse hurried by us and our mother turned around. “You coming or what?”
Who was this woman and what the hell had she done with my mother?
“Shit, my favorite part was when she said Lou and Terry weren’t ‘keen’ on letting her keep the money,” Jake said, slapping the table.
Our mom chuckled and I laughed before taking another pull on my beer. “I highly doubt that word has ever come from either of their mouths,” I responded.
“Thankfully, I never met them so I’ll just have to take your word for it.” My mom tucked her hair behind her ear and took a sip of her champagne. “I can’t believe you boys have me drinking champagne at one in the afternoon.”
“I can’t believe you managed to rip the old man to shreds without even technically lying. It’s like you were a morally upstanding version of Nurse Ratched. God, I wish we’d recorded that.” Jake sighed. Mom and I snickered.
“I don’t mean this to come out wrong,” I said, “but I didn’t know you had that in you. You eviscerated him and stayed as cool as shit.”
“I didn’t know I did either.” She gave me a small smile. “And watch your language.” She smacked my hand. “Now, you boys may not have anything to do today but I’ve got a long to-do list and I’m working tonight.” She stood from the table and took her glass to the sink.
Jake and I both stood and gave her hugs goodbye.
“Next time someone at works steps out of line I’m sending you in,” I joked. “You were amazing.”
And that was no joke.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A Crash Course in Gym Etiquette
FIONA
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when you said ‘date.’” I looked up a bit pitifully into Mark’s handsome face.
“What do you mean? I love this place.” He blinked those ridiculous lashes.
I watched him take a satisfied perusal of his surroundings. “I’m aware.” I gestured to his biceps. “Although I should have known when you told me to wear a t-shirt and ‘those stretchy pants.’ For some reason, I just thought you wanted a better look at my ass.”
“Well that’s just a plus,” he said with a naughty grin followed by a smack to said ass. “Come on, Shortcake, enough stalling.”
I should have guessed our destination moments after he’d picked me up from my condo after work and handed me a Belk bag. The level of excitement that had subsequently coursed through my veins at the gesture was more than a little over the top. But when a man like him—one whose entire being screams that he is not now and never will be a shopper—gives you a department store bag, what’s a girl to do other than swoon? I snatched the bag and kissed him on the cheek. My Spidey senses should have anticipated a bribe of some sort.
“I asked the sales lady to pick something that a girl with only heels in her closet would wear. This is what she came up with. I hope you like it.”
He looked nervous so I tore into the bag to end his misery. Inside were a small pair of pristine white socks and a shoe box with “Madden Girl” on the lid. A shoe box! Dear sweet lord, remind me why I wasn’t keeping this man forever? I lifted the lid and tissue paper to reveal the most sparkly sneakers I’d ever seen. They actually shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the truck window. I felt like crying, but I held myself in check as I turned to face Mark.
“I love them!” I said as I threw myself across the seat and onto his lap.
One PG make-out session and a quick drive later, we’d arrived at our destination where my enthusiasm had begun to wane a bit—but only for the location, not for the first pair of adult athletic shoes I’d ever owned (sparkles or not).
“Fine,” I huffed and stepped up to the strange contraption that had been promised to provide me with tone and definition in my upper arms.
Mark ran his fingers deliberately down the entire length of my arms before moving my hands to grasp the handles of the machine. I shivered.
I wished I could blame it on this godforsaken den of torture he had lured me into. Known to some people as a gym, the establishment was loud and smelly and filled with sweaty people and machines that looked like robots on the precipice of taking over the earth. But, no, this horrid place was not the cause of my shiver.
It was the delectable man standing behind me. The very same one who had been slowly torturing me for the last two weeks with flirty touches, passionate kisses, and nights ending in complete sexual frustration.
The entire gaggle of bitches in my head and nether regions were all up in my face insisting I find some way to pin the sexy beast down and screw the living hell out of him. I suspected even Guilt was secretly booking some alone time with her
vibrator at this point. We were all strung as tight as one of Mark’s t-shirts and I was bound and determined to get this show on the road.
Unfortunately, the current environment was less than ideal for seduction. So “triceps pushdowns” it was. Ugh.
“Now, I’ve set it at the lowest weight since this is your first time and I don’t want you to overdo it.” He stepped back from the stack of black weights in the center of the machine and faced me, apparently assessing my position or something.
“Oh come on,” I argued, totally offended. “You can add a little more. I have exercised before, you know.” I didn’t mention that the last time had been high school gym class.
He put his hands up in a defensive position. “All right, Shortcake. Point taken—just trying to look out for you.” He added another couple weights.
Honestly, how hard could it be?
Hands on the bar, I slowly pushed downward.
Nothing.
Evidently, I’d have to invest a little effort. No big deal.
I pushed down with what I considered a generous amount of strength.
The goddamn bar didn’t budge.
Was that snickering I heard? My gaze flashed to Mark who was unsuccessfully attempting to smother his laugh.
I cleared my throat in reproach and he assumed a neutral expression.
No more fooling around, I was going to rule this damn triceps thingy!
I pushed down with every ounce of effort I possessed and let out a very unladylike grunt as the bar descended and I felt the entirety of my upper body scream in protest. Once it reached its lowest position, I triumphantly released the bar and prepared to woot-woot in victory.
That was, until the weights crashed back down on their stack with a staggeringly loud boom and every single face in the entire sweaty, smelly, robot-filled joint swung in our direction.
The Spark (Carolina Connections Book 2) Page 21