Damage Control

by M. S. Parker

  “Just what is this…idea?” I asked warily.

  “Hire him.” Astra moved a little closer, standing between us like a referee as she looked from me to him.

  Kaleb and I stared at each other blankly.

  “Hire me?”

  “Hire him?”

  We spoke at the same time, and the inanity of it left us both smiling awkwardly at each other. He gestured to me, and I cocked an eyebrow at my best friend. “Don’t take this wrong, Astra, but I’m not exactly the sort of woman who wants her own personal exotic dancer.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She rolled her eyes. “But for the record – you’re nuts. Why wouldn’t you want your own private exotic dancer?”

  “Just because you want your own personal pool boy, your own masseuse, a personal shopper, your own driver…”

  I rolled my eyes at her, although I was teasing. She had none of those things. She joked about it, but while we’d both been born with the proverbial silver spoon, neither of us liked being waited on or catered to non-stop. Each of us had a personal assistant, but that was simply because we couldn’t keep things straight thanks to everything our parents were constantly expecting us to keep up with.

  “Look, this has all been fun, but I need to figure out what I’m going to do,” Kaleb interjected.

  “We’ve already figured that out.” Astra folded her arms across her chest, looking determined. “Just at least hear me out. If you don't want to do it, I’ll rent a car and chase down the bus myself.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Flames Down Under all up close and personal.”

  “But–”

  “Five minutes!” She moved, placing herself in front of the door, spreading her hands against it. She tossed in a bright smile and then looked at me. “Trust me, PS. It’s way better than just uploading the video to YouTube. You can prove to your parents that you’re done letting them dictate your life. And we can help Kaleb out since we went and screwed up his job.”

  “As fascinating as this is, whatever you’re planning, I don’t think you can pay me what I’d be making with Flames,” Kaleb said, looking more and more pissed off by the minute. “I’m the new boy and I’m still learning, but I made fifteen hundred dollars last week – American – and that doesn’t include the tips.”

  I didn’t blame him for being pissed. Fifteen hundred dollars was a decent amount of money to a lot of people. Except I could do better. I didn't know what pushed me to say anything, but to my surprise, I was the one to speak before Astra could pipe in. “I can pay more than that.”

  He swung his head around, a startled expression on his face.

  “I can.” I lifted a shoulder. “Granted, I don’t know just what Astra has in mind, but I can pay more than fifteen hundred a week. My assistant makes almost that. Granted, I work her into the ground, but…”

  He started to say something else, but he stopped abruptly, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter how much your assistant makes, unless you plan on hiring me to take her place. Look, I need to be going.”

  “I’ve got an idea.” Astra placed herself between him and the door. “You listen to me for five minutes, and within the next half hour, Piety will pay you fifteen hundred, and we’ll make sure you get a ride to wherever your bus is heading if you decide you don’t want to do things my way.”

  That caught him off guard.

  Me too.

  I mean, it wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it, but it was irritating when other people got free and loose with my money. From behind him, I gave Astra a dark look, then wiped it off my face before I moved to sit down on the couch.

  “It’s a fair deal,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “After all, we messed things up. We can at least rectify the situation.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Kaleb looked from me to her and then back. Then he shook his head. “The two of you are insane. You know that, right?”

  Five

  Kaleb

  Insane.

  It didn’t even come close.

  And I wasn’t any better.

  Hands braced against the shower wall, I stared down at the floor. Water dripped into my face and eyes, ran down my cheekbones and chin, then along my nose before falling to my feet.

  Water pounded into me from five different angles, the pressure so high, I almost felt like I was getting a top rate massage.

  There was one thing to be said for this set-up so far – the shower was top-notch.

  I could stay in here for another week.

  Or at least another hour or so. If I could do that, maybe things would start making sense.

  Somehow between last night and now, I’d gotten married to one of the most elegant, beautiful women I’d ever met. Not to mention, she was funny and determined. And that was just from the little bit of time I'd spent with her.

  And her shower…

  Groaning, I angled my back so that one of the jets hit it full on, pounding away stress that felt like it had been building for years. Now, if I could just stay in here long enough to figure out what the hell I'd gotten myself into.

  But that wasn’t likely. How was I supposed to figure out how I’d ended up married to Piety Van Allan?

  I still needed to make some phone calls. I had to call my boss for one. Even though the bus had already left, I owed it to him – and the rest of the guys – to let them know I wouldn’t be in. Not today, not any other day in the near future.

  I felt like a piece of shit leaving him hanging, but even if I could get to the next tour stop, the bottom line was that Piety was offering more money. Once I’d heard her friend, Astra, out Piety had disappeared, and in less than twenty minutes, she’d returned with cash as promised.

  But it hadn’t been fifteen hundred.

  It was two thousand, and she said if I helped her out, she’d pay me five times that.

  Ten grand. The exact amount I needed.

  I’d spent the time while she was gone researching her. She was exactly who she said she was. It wasn’t hard to find information about her. She was a bit of a do-gooder, and her parents look like they had a pair of matching sticks shoved up their asses. If they were as bad as she was letting on…

  But even as the idea formed in my mind, I pushed it away. My parents were gone. It was hard to think about doing something just to piss them off although I knew I’d done it a time or two. This, well this was a bit more extreme than anything I could've thought up. Still...

  Shoving away from the wall, I reached for the shampoo. I couldn’t stay in here forever, as much as I was tempted. Even the toiletries smelled like money and the scent hit me hard. It reminded me of how her hair smelled.

  Just that tease was enough to have my prick going hard, and I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. I didn’t need to be thinking about how damn sexy she was.

  It can’t hurt…you’re married.

  I ignored the taunting voice and focused on scrubbing my hair.

  Piety and I were not married – not really. Whatever bogus marriage that had been performed between us was a sham, one that would be annulled once Piety had done whatever she needed to do to convince her parents to leave her alone.

  Moving under the spray, I rinsed my hair, still trying to pretend I wasn’t acutely aware of how it seemed like the scent of her surrounded me. She smelled so damn good.

  Don’t think about it.

  Hard not to though. She smelled good, felt good. I bet she tasted even better.

  I was already doing a cockstand, and with a vicious swear, I turned the water to cold as I finished scrubbing up. I was shivering by the time I climbed out of the shower, but at least I wasn’t about to walk out of there looking like I was ready to jump…Piety.

  My wife had come to mind first.

  “Focus, Kaleb.”

  Eyes closed, I pushed aside thoughts of the tempting Piety Van Allan and thought about what I needed to get done. Get my stuff from the hotel, call my boss, check in. It didn’t really seem like all t
hat much, but I still felt like the world was spinning around me.

  “One thing at a time.”

  Once I was dressed, I reached for my phone and leaned against the marble countertop, staring at the shower stall in front of me.

  I’d call my boss – or should I say former boss – first.

  He would be pissed off, probably argumentative. And still, it was the easier call.

  Another stab of guilt rose up, but I grabbed it and throttled it, shoving it deep inside a dark closet. I excelled at that. Guilt had been my best friend for a while now – a very one-sided friendship. He visited me daily, and I ignored him, pretending the little shit didn’t exist and everything was fine.

  On the other side of the bathroom door, I heard a bright, happy spate of laughter. That would be Astra. It suited her, that wild laugh, the name. Piety’s laugh was calmer, more subtle. No reason for such a smooth, easy sound to hit me right in the gut, but it did.

  Looking around the bathroom, I figured I had as much privacy now as I was going to get, so I dialed the number and waited.

  “You tell me one good reason I shouldn’t fire your ass,” Sam Romo snapped, his smoke-roughened voice harsher than normal. He paused, taking yet another drag of his cigarette. Cancer would bypass his mean ass, looking for more fertile ground. “Come on, I’m waiting.”

  “I can’t,” I said calmly. There was no point in beating around the bush and leaving him hanging. “Something’s come up, and it will be pretty much impossible for me to keep the job.”

  There was a faint pause, followed by a not so faint explosion. “What in the hell do you mean you’re quitting? This is the thanks I get after giving you this job?” He paused to suck in a breath. “You ungrateful piece of shit. You had no talent, no skill, but I took you on anyway. Now you’re leaving me hanging.”

  “I’m sorry.” Reaching up, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I can’t say anything more than that. I didn’t plan to leave you hanging, but there’s nothing I can do. Something’s come up.”

  I wasn’t about to tell him the truth. I was already coming off like an ass. I didn’t need to make it worse by telling him it'd been a bad combination of alcohol and a woman.

  “Fine,” he bit off. “You do whatever the hell you want, pretty boy. But don’t think you can come back. I’m done with you.”

  The phone went dead. Lowering it, I closed my eyes. That had gone about as well as I'd expected, and I'd deserved every bit of it. Still, it was nothing compared to what I had to do next.

  Eying the phone narrowly, I picked it up and swallowed the bile that had been rising up my throat ever since I woke up – and not all of it because of the hangover.

  “Just get it over with,” I muttered to myself.

  I dialed the number and waited. One ring. Two. Three.

  It went to voicemail, and I gritted my teeth, swearing silently as her voice came on the line.

  “This is Camry. You know the drill!”

  I didn’t bother leaving a message.

  She hadn’t called back the last few times I’d left one, and I didn't really have anything new to say.

  A wild hoot of laughter came from beyond the door, drawing my attention to the women waiting in the main part of the suite. Despite myself, I was drawn to the levity between the two of them. Drawn to her. I’d like to hear her laugh, and maybe see her smile again – not that caustic one that had flashed across her face when she spoke about her parents.

  I wanted to see a real smile.

  And damn what I would've given to have met her under different circumstances. Shoving away from the counter, I moved to the door and opened it. Time to face the music...

  Silence fell, the conversation between them falling to a complete stop.

  Two gorgeous women looked over at me, and I had another fleeting thought about how crazy my life had become. Not just in the past twelve hours, but in the past few weeks, the past few months.

  A year ago, it had been almost boring. I surfed. I went swimming. I worked. A nice, boring routine.

  That was it.

  Now, I was staring at a woman I had somehow married, and I decided this was about as awkward as it had been the first time I’d gone out on stage. Well, maybe not quite that bad. But it was damn close.

  “So…” I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my worn, faded jeans. “What do we do now?”

  Piety got to her feet, her wide, sexy mouth curled into a smile that made me wish I could remember anything from last night. “Today, we’re going to have fun.”

  “Fun?” I repeated. Running my tongue across my teeth, I debated whether or not I should say anything, but then I decided what the hell. “You’ve already paid me two thousand dollars. You’re paying me another eight–”

  “Actually, another ten. I said I’d give you five times that. That’s ten.”

  She’d changed and showered, her hair a little damp. Her pale blue sundress showed off her long legs, and offered just enough cleavage to be tempting but not enough to be scandalous. She looked tired, but I’d be hard pressed to tell that she was suffering the same hangover I was. If I hadn’t seen her earlier, I never would have guessed she'd been black-out drunk less than twelve hours ago.

  Distracted by everything about her, it took me a moment to catch up with what she said. “Wait – what? You’re paying me twelve-thousand dollars?”

  “Yes.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

  “Yes!” Without realizing it, I’d half-yelled and lowered my voice. “No. It’s just…why in the hell does this matter so much to you?”

  “Wait until you meet my parents, and you’ll get it.” She glanced over at Astra before moving toward me. “Anyway, I figure you have clothes to pick up. You need to check out of your hotel, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” She was dressed similarly to me, in jeans and a t-shirt, her amazing subtle curves making my cock take notice. “Then we’ll take care of that, spend the day getting to know each other before we leave.”

  “We’re leaving?” I rubbed my neck, the headache that had been threatening edging closer and closer. “Where are we going?”

  “Philadelphia. My family reunion.” She pushed her hair back from her face and shrugged. “I’ve already bought your plane ticket – hope you don’t mind. I…um…well, I checked your wallet while you were showering and took care of the arrangements.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Wow. She was…efficient. Efficient. Confident. Capable. Sexy. Man, was she sexy. I realized I was staring at her mouth and jerked my attention back to her eyes. “Okay, so let’s go to…well, my hotel first, right?”

  She nodded, and we moved to the door.

  Behind us, Astra called out. “Have fun, you two! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, PS!”

  “Yeah.” Piety snorted. “That probably covers murder and dismemberment. I don’t think there’s much else.”

  I was smiling as we left. Once the door closed behind us, I looked over at her. “PS? Why'd she say that?”

  “Because she’s weird.” Piety rolled her eyes. “My middle name is Sabine. The whole name is a mouthful – Piety Sabine Van Allan. PS. Also, I told her more than once that I think my folks had me as an afterthought to help my dad’s career. Afterthought…PS.”

  She glanced up at me and shrugged. If I hadn't been staring at her, I probably would've missed the flash of pain that moved across her eyes, then disappeared. I didn't need to know much about her to understand what had prompted that look.

  I shook my head. “I don’t see how anybody could think of you as an afterthought, Piety Van Allen.”

  Six

  Piety

  Those words tugged at my heart, and as we stood out in the hall, I found myself reaching up to touch his cheek, wanting that contact. His eyes widened a little, and it was that alone that made me realize what I was doing.

  I forced a smile. It was fake, but I knew from experience it would come off as real enough. One thing a politi
cian’s daughter learned how to do at a young age was how to offer a sincere-looking false smile.

  “Sorry…you’ve just got…” I pretended to brush something off his cheek. “There. All better. Come on, let’s get going.”

  I started down the hall, my face flaming as he caught up with me.

  What had I been getting ready to do?

  Oh, man.

  What was I doing, period?

  Paying him twelve thousand dollars to be my pretend husband so I could get my parents to leave me alone?

  Except it’s not pretend, my conscience whispered. You did marry him.

  He was quiet as I pushed the elevator button, and I glanced up to find him studying me. The elevator door slid open, and we stepped inside, but my wish to have company to keep the conversation at a minimum went ungranted.

  “Do you want to do this?” he asked softly. “Or did your mate talk you into it?”

  I didn’t blink twice at the word mate. I’d spent one of the best summers of my life in Sydney the year after I graduated high school. He'd dropped a lot of the terms I would have expected somebody from fresh out of Oz to use, and I found myself smiling a little at the language.

  “Astra and I have been friends a long time. She can nag me into a lot of things,” I admitted, “but she can’t push me into doing anything I don’t really want to do.” I met his eyes and smiled. “This isn’t a bad idea.”

  Oh, yes, it was.

  “You don’t sound too convinced of that.”

  I blinked, wondering if he was guessing or if I'd lost some of my skill at masking what I was thinking.

  “What makes you say that?” I asked as the elevator doors slid open.

  “Something in your eyes. You look…nervous.” He shrugged as we came to a stop in the middle the lobby. All cream and gold, it was understated elegance in the middle of one of the glitziest cities in the world.

  Not too far away lay one of the many entrances to the casino. I reached over and took his hand. “Come on.”

  He followed along, but when he saw where we were going, his brows went together. “If you want to gamble, I’ll probably just stand at your shoulder.”