Utterly Forgettable

by RB Hilliard

  Chapter Two

  Zane

  ‡

  My eyes swam with exhaustion as I tried to focus at the words on the page in front of me. It was no use. With a growl of frustration, I slapped the paper on my desk. Seven days and I was already falling apart. If this was karma teaching me a lesson it could stop now. I got it loud and clear. I was a smart man with a good head on my shoulders. I made a point to never, and I mean never, be lead around by my dick. I hated being manipulated and I sure as shit wasn’t going to allow some annoying as hell bitch to blackmail me. A loud noise from the bar area caught my attention. Pushing back from my desk, I opened my bottom drawer and slid the paper inside. Then I went to see what the commotion was about.

  “Don’t you people understand how gross it is to drink from a glass with someone else’s lip prints on it? How many times do we have to have this discussion?” Blake held the glass up to the light so everyone could see the lipstick mark. He rubbed his finger over it and held it up for everyone to see there was nothing on it. “As you can see, they make this shit industrial strength these days. Not only that, it’s nasty and most likely swimming in bacteria. How hard is it to wipe a damn glass off before placing it in the dishwasher?” Any other day and Blake’s exasperated tone would humor me. Today, however, I was not in the mood. Nope, today I was barely treading water. One wrong move and I was going to drown in my own stupidity. Nodding to a few of the staff, I stepped behind the bar.

  Blake Moreno was one of my best friends. He was also co-manager of Whisky’s, the bar I owned. Blake and I both served in the Army. Four years ago we became tight when we spent time in Belgium together.

  “Don’t let me find this shit again, people. Now get back to whatever it was you were doing and could someone please change the music!” Blake turned to me and let out a growl of disgust. “Is it just me, or do we have a bunch of fucktards working for us?”

  “Both,” I said, and followed it with, “I like Eric Church.”

  “I did too until I heard this song a million times.” Mr. Misunderstood was quickly replaced by JT’s Drink You Away, and Blake sighed, “Much better. Now, other than you being a complete moron, what’s got you so riled up?”

  I gave him a scathing look. “I swear you guys gossip around here like little school girls. Who told you?”

  Blake shrugged nonchalantly. “Does it matter? What I want to know is why you didn’t tell me? Yes, I would have busted your balls but I also would have lent you a hand. This happened what, last Friday?”

  I felt a twinge of guilt. He was right, I should have told him. “This has been the longest week of my life. I could really use some help right now,” I confessed. “If I have to deal with one more tenant complaint I’m going to hurt someone.”

  “Who is it this time? Wait, let me guess, either Mr. Burnes or Miss Weston, correct?”

  “Miss Weston. The lady has bionic hearing. Whenever I open my front door she’s standing there. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was stalking me.” Blake patted me on the back again and I felt a pang of guilt. Sighing in frustration I dropped my elbows to the bar and ran my hands back and forth over my head. “I fucked up, Blake.”

  “You more than fucked up,” he corrected.

  I glared up at him. “Thanks for the support, dick. You and Hunter both know how I get when tequila is involved.”

  “Oh, no. You are not blaming this on me. This is all on you. What happened to being professional and keeping it in your pants?” Not quite finished busting my balls, he continued, “Let me guess, Beth just happened to be there when you got home and oopsie, tripped and land on your dick?” I didn’t blame Blake one bit for being disgusted with me. I deserved it.

  In a pathetic attempt, I tried to explain. “No, she cornered me at my place after I’d had way too much to drink with you guys, and started talking about adjusting her schedule or some shit like that. You know Beth. She’s always playing an angle. I told her it was a bad time to talk. When she wouldn’t shut up, I stumbled into the office to get a piece of paper. I asked her to write down what she wanted and next thing I knew her tongue was in my mouth.

  Blake’s eyebrow shot up. “Did you consider saying no?”

  “At first, but once she was naked and standing in front of me all I could think about was getting inside her. I warned her it was a one-time deal, though.”

  “Before or after?” he smirked.

  I couldn’t stop my lips from twitching. This was not a laughing matter. “Both,” I answered.

  “I don’t get it. If she knew the score, why did she quit?”

  “She wanted to stay the night and I told her no. She started yammering about how used she felt and I told her she was more than welcome to leave. She called me names and told me I was emotionally stunted. I laughed and she told me she was going to sue me for sexual harassment. I told her to fuck off and pointed out the fact that she was the one who jumped me. Then I explained for the thousandth time I was not interested in a relationship.”

  Blake snorted. “Sounds like extortion to me. Well, I would say you got what you deserved but I’m not sure that would be true in this case.” An upbeat pop song blasted through the speakers and Blake yelled, “Change that shit now!” Light from the front door spilled across the bar floor and we both turned to see who it was.

  “Hey, hey, don’t be dissing on Stitches. Shawn’s the man,” Hunter said, as he approached the bar. He caught the unamused look on our faces and his smile faded. “Who died?”

  “Zane slept with Beth the other night and she quit,” Blake blurted. I shot him a dirty look and he smiled. Dick.

  Hunter’s eyes shot to me and, for the hundredth time today, I felt bad. Even though Beth was a pain in my ass, Hunter really liked her. When I explained what happened he shook his head slowly back and forth and let out a deep sigh, “What did I tell you?” he asked.

  “Look man, I was drunk as hell. Regardless, Beth knew the score. I don’t do relationships, ever. What made her think she was the exception to the rule?”

  Hunter defensively crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “If she knew the score, then why did she quit?”

  “She tried to extort a relationship out of him and he shut her down. When she threatened to sue him he laughed and told her to fuck off,” Blake answered.

  I shot him a dirty look. “I’m perfectly capable of answering for myself, dickhead.”

  “Beth has been trying to get into your pants since high school. Why now?” I could tell by Hunter’s tone he was pissed. This is exactly why I didn’t tell him the second it happened. “And what happened to staying professional and keeping it in your pants?” he asked. Blake laughed and I let out another loud sigh. Like a dog with a bone, Hunter was not letting go. “Are you sure she really quit? Maybe she’s just taking a break to lick her wounds?” His hopeful expression was too much.

  Hunter Lake was third in command at Whisky’s and one of my best friends. I hated disappointing him.

  “I’m sorry, man. She slid her resignation letter under my door and was gone by the time I woke the next morning,” I told him.

  “Damn, that was fast,” Blake commented.

  “I told you both I fucked up,” I repeated.

  When I purchased Riverbend I clearly had no idea how much shit there was to “handle” in managing an apartment complex. Loy, the manager, kept everything nice and tidy for me. When he suddenly quit, it went downhill fast. Tenants were a pain in the ass and found the stupidest things to bitch and moan about. Loy wasn’t even gone a day before I received a visit from my across the hall neighbor, Miss Weston. I discovered the hard way that her request for help to find her missing glasses was really code for “I want to touch your package.” After four months of moonlighting as apartment manager by day and bar owner by night, I was fucking done. That’s when Bethany Ellis swept in and saved the day.

  Bethany, or Beth, as we once knew her, appeared at Whisky’s one night with a group of friends.

 
“Would you look at what the cat dragged in?” Hunter nodded at the group of people who had just stepped onto the rooftop patio. I glanced over and immediately spotted her in the crowd. Two years our senior, Beth had brains, beauty and boyfriends…a lot of boyfriends. “She looks exactly the same.” Hunter was not wrong. Her hair was longer, but Beth had managed to maintain her classically beautiful high cheek bones and perfect lips. I couldn’t see her eyes from where I was standing but I didn’t need to. I already knew they were the same gorgeous sapphire blue eyes that held me captive both my freshman and sophomore years in high school. “Did you know she married Brian Shelton?”

  “Gee, why am I not surprised?” Hunter chuckled at my sarcastic tone.

  Brian Shelton was the king of our high school. He was the jock of all jocks and a complete douche. It figured a girl like Beth would end up with a guy like Brian. We watched Beth settle her perfect little ass into a booth with her friends.

  “Rumor has it they just divorced,” he said. This was also no surprise. Hunter nudged me with his elbow. “Man, I still can’t believe you turned that down.”

  I watched Beth flirt with the guy sitting next to her and thought back to our senior year and the last time I’d seen her. After years of keeping silent, I finally confessed to Hunter why I refused to sleep with Beth the night before graduation. “You remember the rumor that Beth and two of her sorority sisters were tag teamed by half the football team at Mark Blane’s house the night before graduation?” I asked.

  “I remember high school being one big rumor,” Hunter scoffed. He was not wrong. High school was rife with shit and misery. I couldn’t wait to get out and leave it all behind me. Hunter nodded his head toward Beth. “There’s no way Beth Ellis allowed that shit to happen.”

  “She not only allowed it, she invited it,” I told him.

  “Bullshit,” he huffed.

  “I would have thought the same thing had I not seen the video with my own damn eyes.”

  His head jerked in surprise. “No shit?”

  “No shit,” I confirmed. “She brought two friends to town with one thing in mind.”

  “Wow,” he mouthed.

  Wow was right. As it turned out my fantasy girl had zero self-respect. I decided long ago I wanted no part of that. I still don’t. I left Hunter upstairs staring at Beth and her friends and made my way back down to The Dungeon.

  I didn’t see Beth again that night and had completely forgotten about our conversation until Hunter brought it up after work. Apparently, Beth spotted Hunter behind the bar and remembered him. How, I had no clue because he was no longer the lanky goofball looking kid he was in high school. Over several drinks she confirmed she was recently divorced and in desperate need of a job. When asked what qualifications she had, she explained how she had been a personal assistant to the wife of one of her husband’s colleagues. Unfortunately, the divorce ended the working relationship as well as the friendship.

  At Hunter’s insistence, as well as my sheer desperation, I called Beth later that week and told her I was looking for a personal assistant. Halfway through the phone interview I hired her. When I told her I also wanted her to manage the apartment complex, she waffled, so I sweetened the deal by tossing in a rent free apartment. It was a win-win situation and one she’d be crazy to turn down. She didn’t.

  Beth talked a good game. As it turned out, she was both high maintenance and unmotivated but she got the job done and I was desperate. The handful of times she tried to get in my pants, I managed to successfully shut her down. That is, until that fateful tequila night. The worst part about the whole thing? She was a lazy lay. Even in my drunken state, I did all the work. Lesson learned the hard way: Never sleep with the hired help.

  “Please, at least tell me she was worth the hassle,” Blake said. His hopeful expression made me laugh.

  “Do you see us together? No you do not. There is a reason for that. Fuck!” I pounded my fists on the bar in frustration. “I can’t manage the complex by myself, again. You have no idea how bad that shit was.” I tried not to sound like a whiney bitch but damn.

  “Call her up and grovel,” Hunter suggested. “Tell her you are sorry and set new parameters.”

  “Hell no.” The last thing I needed was more of Beth Ellis’s bullshit in my life.

  “What are you smiling at?” Hunter asked Blake.

  “The perfect solution to your problem is arriving in two weeks,” Blake announced. His shit eating grin was unnerving.

  “I’m afraid to ask,” I told him.

  After a long pause Hunter nudged him. “Well, what is it?”

  “Cathryn,” Blake replied.

  “Cathryn who?” Hunter and I both asked.

  “Cathryn, my stepsister,” he answered.

  “You have a stepsister?” Hunter asked.

  “I do,” he replied with a smile. He pointed his finger at me. “She is going to save your sorry ass, but you cannot stick your dick in her. Do you hear me?”

  I held up my hands and laughed. “I swear I’ve learned my lesson. No matter what, I will not stick my dick in your stepsister.”

  Chapter Three

  Cathryn

  ‡

  Zane Mitchell was nothing like I pictured. In my mind he was an older, shorter, stout looking man.

  “Oh, ummm. Well you already know my name is Cathryn but everyone calls me Cat,” I stammered, as I followed after him. His serious demeanor made me slightly uncomfortable and I was flustered, which irritated me. I hated feeling flustered.

  He led me past the entry into an enormous living and dining room. I tried not to gawk. Wide planked hardwood floors were covered with gorgeous throw rugs of all shapes and sizes. Dark wood furniture with pops of brightly colored, pillows, lamps and vases were strategically dispersed around the living room. As we walked through the dining room I fought the urge to run my hand over the beautiful cherry wood dining table. I wanted to ask him about the needlepoint seat cushions but decided now wasn’t the proper time. Simple white walls with intricate crown molding adorned the twelve foot high ceilings throughout. It was both amazing and overwhelming. From the dining room Zane led me into an office. Once again, I held my gasp of delight. Spread across the entire back wall was a giant mahogany book shelf. Below it sat a desk, also dark in color but with obvious Asian influences. To my right was a coffee colored leather sofa adorned with colorful oriental pillows. In front of it sat a large suede ottoman. On my left was a sliding glass door that looked out onto the same grotto swimming pool I spotted earlier. Either this man was gay or he’d clearly missed his calling in life.

  “Have a seat,” Zane said. I took a seat on one edge of the sofa and waited for him to sit. Once settled behind his desk, he began to speak, “I’m late for a meeting, so I’ll make this quick. As I said before, I’m Zane Mitchell. I’m not sure what Blake told you but you are here in two capacities. One is to assist me. The other is to manage Riverbend. Riverbend is made up of fifteen apartments. He held up a folder. “In here I have highlighted all expectations as well as listed all maintenance contacts and their numbers.”

  I studied him while he was talking and wondered how he and my sweet tempered step brother came to be best friends. Not wanting to interrupt his lengthy introduction, I waited for him to pause and held up my hand. He did this sexy quirky thing with his eyebrow and I swear I could feel all the blood in my body rush straight to my face. I mentally scolded myself. This is your stepbrother’s friend and your new boss, Cathryn, get a grip.

  “Maintenance?” I questioned.

  “Yes, gardener, plumber, electrician, you know, maintenance,” he stated. I decided to ignore his rude tone. After all, we were just getting to know each other. When I didn’t respond, he asked, “May I continue?”

  “By all means,” I dryly replied. The eyebrow thing wasn’t near as sexy the second time around.

  “You are to report here every morning at nine. At that time I will have a list of things I need you to do. After completi
ng the list you will spend the rest of the day managing the complex.” I held up my hand again and he let out a very impatient sounding sigh. “Yes?”

  “Exactly how will I manage the complex?” I asked.

  Again the eyebrow shot up. This time it was accompanied by a pursed lip. “Is that a rhetorical question?” he asked.

  I tried not to flinch. “No?”

  “You will be at the disposal of the tenants who live here. Anything they want, within reason, you will deliver.”

  “What if it’s not within reason? And how am I supposed to judge what is reasonable and what is not?” I fired at him. His mouth tilted up into a smile and I almost passed out. The man was way too pretty for his own good, or mine. Clearly I was going to have to build some superpower defenses or I was going to end up in big trouble. I needed this job.

  “This is why I am hiring you. I’m sure in time you will figure it out,” he glibly responded. I had a feeling I was missing something but wasn’t about to ask him to elaborate. He checked his watch and growled, “I’m late. Here are the keys to my apartment as well as Apartment C, which is located upstairs on the left. Move your things in at your convenience. I expect you to start first thing tomorrow morning. Your list will be on my desk by nine o’ clock. Just let yourself in.”

  “Wait, aren’t you going to give me a tour of the grounds?” I squeaked.

  “Go ahead and look around. The code for the keypad is 2212. If you have any questions you can text me or, if you absolutely have to, you can call me. However, I probably won’t answer. Now, I really am late so let me walk you out.” He handed me the keys and folder and waited for me to stand. I had to give it to him, not only did he have mad decorating skills, he had impeccable manners. He followed me through the apartment and opened the door for me. Before I could ask the question on the tip of my tongue, he said, “It was nice to meet you Cathryn. I appreciate you stopping by. I will see you tomorrow morning at nine sharp,” and began to close the door.