PAYBACK’S A BITCH

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PAYBACK’S A BITCH Page 12

by Johnson, Missy


  Chapter Twelve

  Darcy

  “So?” Mack asks.

  I wink at him and hand him his fifty-dollar bill. He studies it for a moment, like he’s checking its authenticity, then he laughs as he shoves it in his pocket.

  “Easiest cash I ever made.” He grins.

  “It’s probably the only cash you’ve ever made,” I joke. “But good work.”

  “Nah, it was your idea.” He grins. “So, what’s next?”

  I shrug and lift my lips into a very satisfied smirk.

  “Now I do everything I can to make sure poor Cameron is finally able to acknowledge all those urges and desires he’s spent years suppressing,” I chuckle.

  Mack laughs and rubs his hands together. “This is great. I’ll need photos. Please.”

  “No,” I chastise him. “This isn’t a joke. I’m teaching your brother a lesson.”

  “Sorry,” he mutters, lowering his head.

  I burst out laughing. “I’m kidding. It’s totally a joke.” I giggle. “But no pics. I’m not that cruel.”

  I shake my head.

  It’s a joke all right, a joke Cameron fell for it in the first place.

  What’s even more impressive is that I sat there on his couch, while he fed me that bullshit story about how he’d wanted to experiment with women’s clothes since he was a kid and I did it without laughing. He told me that after he saw my ad, he couldn’t stop thinking about me. That he knew it was a joke, but on some level, he found himself hoping that it wasn’t, because if I accepted his lifestyle, he wouldn’t need to live a lie anymore.

  Does he really think I’m gullible enough to buy that shit?

  But God, seeing him in that dress…

  When he opened his door, it took everything I had not to laugh in his face.

  Mom spent weeks searching for the perfect dress for the wedding and when she finally found it, it was the last one in her size. It was on sale too, but even then, the price tag was ridiculous. Mom left in a huff, but she soon realized nothing else was going to come close to being as perfect as that dress. So, she went back and brought it.

  Tonight, Cameron answered his door wearing that same dress.

  My mother’s wedding dress.

  The worst thing is, he looked pretty damn good in it.

  I burst into another fit of hysterical laughter as I walk upstairs.

  I don’t even want to think about what Mom is going to say when she finds out.

  * * *

  The next morning, I walk into the kitchen to find Mom in a frenzy.

  “What’s up?” I ask, pouring myself a coffee.

  I sit down and watch her fly around the room. She glances at me, distracted. The stress in her face has me worried.

  “My dress. Have you seen it?” she asks. She puts her hand on her hip and shakes her head as she looks around the room. “I was sure I left it here.”

  “In the kitchen?” I frown.

  She nods. “I had it airing out over one of the chairs to try and get rid of those few wrinkles.” She shakes her head and looks around. “And now I’ve got no idea where it went. I think I’m going crazy.”

  “Well it can’t have grown legs and walked off,” I say. I feel awful not telling her, but how do I say that Cameron has it? I bite back a giggle at the thought of her going over there and him answering in her dress.

  “Maybe I left it in the car,” she says.

  She grabs her keys and races outside. I sit down, lean my head on the table and sigh.

  “What’s up with you?” Mack asks.

  “Cameron took Mom’s dress,” I say, my voice muffled through the sleeve of my bathrobe. “And now she’s freaking out because it’s gone.”

  Mack shrugs. “So? Tell her to go buy a new one.”

  “It’s not just any dress.” I lift my head to look at him. “It’s her wedding dress.”

  He stares at me. “He took her wedding dress?” He gasps, laughing harder and harder, until he’s doubled over, clutching his stomach. “No way.” He chuckles. “That’s fucking perfect.”

  “Mack,” Mom snaps. “Don’t swear. And what’s so funny?”

  I look past Mack to Mom, who is leaning against the counter looking frazzled.

  “Nothing,” he mutters, not meeting her eyes. I shake my head. “I just remembered a really wicked punch line to a joke I heard a while ago. Anyway, gotta run,” he says, darting out the door, leaving me to deal with a stressed out and panicked Mom.

  Mom gazes after Mack. “I’ve never seen him so keen to get to school,” she muses.

  “Did you find it?” I ask, distracting her away from the subject of Mack.

  “No. I must’ve left it at the store,” she frowns. “But that’s crazy, because I remember unpacking it.” She glances at me, looking less certain than she did a few minutes ago. “You remember, don’t you?” she asks me.

  I shrug. It would be so easy to convince her that she lost the dress, but there’s something not right about convincing your own mother she’s going senile.

  “I don’t have time for this.” She sighs and sits down, rubbing her head. “I’ve got so much to do, Darc, and you know how long it took me to find this one,” she rambles. “I can’t face going out and doing that all again,” she frets.

  “Mom, it’s okay,” I say. The more she talks, the more stressed she becomes, so I’m doing whatever I can to calm her down. “Let’s go shopping now,” I say. “We’ll find a backup for you, and then when the other one turns up, you can wear one for the ceremony and one for the party,” I suggest.

  She nods, looking marginally calmer. “That would be nice. You really think it will turn up?”

  “I’m sure it will, but if it doesn’t, it won’t matter,” I say. I stand up and drink down the last of my coffee. “Let me have a shower, then we’ll go.”

  “Okay,” she nods. “Thanks Darcy.”

  * * *

  We’ve been wandering around for what feels like hours, trying to find something for Mom to wear. Everything I suggest, she refuses, and the one dress she’s considered looks like a hessian sack. I’m just about to give up and throw Cam under the bus when I see it. I grab Mom’s arm and point in the window. She frowns and gives me a look.

  “What?” I laugh. “Trust me and try it on.”

  Very reluctantly she agrees to try it on. When I hear the squeal coming from the dressing room, I know I was right, but I don’t realize how right I was until she opens the door and walks out.

  “Holy shit!” I gasp. I cover my mouth with my hand and gape at her. “That looks even nicer than the other dress.”

  “It does look pretty amazing, doesn’t it?” she agrees. She studies her reflection in the mirror and runs her hand over the intricate lace overlay. It’s lilac with a crushed raw silk underlay that is fitted to the waist, then it drops, creating the most flattering silhouette. Mom shakes her head, tears in her eyes. I smile, because she didn’t cry over the other dress like this when we found it.

  “I never thought I’d wear anything this low in the back,” she says, laughing. She turns around and I nod approvingly. It is low, but the modest high neckline balances it out.

  “You look incredible,” I say honestly. “And Jim will love it.”

  She winks at me. “I’m sure what he’ll love more is the fact that I’ll need to go braless. I might even need to forgo panties.”

  * * *

  When we get back from shopping, I head up to my room and call Cameron. I smile when he answers and sprawl out on my bed, because I like hearing his voice. For some reason, he sounds even sexier over the phone. I frown, alarmed that I just admitted thinking that.

  “Hey,” he says. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Good,” I say, smiling. “Because I think we should go out on a date.”

  “Sure,” he says. “That sounds great.”

  “And I think you should feel comfortable enough to be yourself on that date,” I add. I bite my lip to stop fro
m laughing when there’s silence.

  “Meaning?” he asks when he finally speaks.

  “I just thought that since you wanted me to help you be who you really are, then you might be open to trying some things,” I explain. “Like going out dressed in a way that makes you feel comfortable.”

  “It’s just I know so many people around here—”

  “We could go somewhere along the beach?” I suggest. “We can start small and just go out for dinner or something. I think it will be good for you, but if it’s not something you want to do—”

  “No, fuck it,” he sighs. “In fact, let’s go tonight.”

  “Great,” I say brightly. “I’ll meet you at your place at six?” I suggest. “I think you picking me up from here—”

  “Would be a really bad idea,” he finishes with a chuckle.

  I turn around when I hear a noise. My door is cracked open, but I was sure I closed it. I get off my bed and wander over, half listening to Cameron talk.

  “I’ll see you soon, then,” I say, still distracted.

  I toss my phone on the bed and creep over to the door, yanking it open when I’m close enough to grab the handle, sending Mack sprawling across the floor.

  “Are you right?” I ask, scowling at him.

  He rubs his arm and grins up at me with a sheepish smile.

  “Really?” I snap. “Listening at my door?”

  “Like you’d expect anything less,” he scoffs, brushing himself off.

  * * *

  I get ready for my date with Cam, choosing the dress I bought earlier today when I was shopping with Mom. It’s blue, but it’s so dark that it almost looks black. It’s very simple, but incredibly fitted and revealing in all the right places. I pair it with a set of low heels and study my reflection in the mirror. I look pretty damn good.

  I creep downstairs, trying to sneak out without being seen. I think I’ve gotten away with it, but just as I’m sneaking out the door, Mom catches me. She raises her eyebrows and smiles.

  “You look nice. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you dressed up like that,” she adds. “Hot date?”

  I shrug. “Something like that,” I say with a grin.

  “Have fun,” she says, waving over her shoulder at me.

  * * *

  I knock on Cam’s door, my heart racing as I wait for him to answer. Oddly enough, I think what I’m most nervous about at the moment is that he thinks I look nice. Which is silly, because this isn’t a real date. My heart jumps when the door swings open as the sweet, musky scent of his aftershave hits me. I study him. He looks good in a pair of black pants and a dark gray shirt. He smiles, his gaze lowering over me.

  “You look great,” he comments. “I love that dress.”

  I smile. “You can have it when I’m done. I think it will really make your eyes pop.”

  How in the world I can say that without laughing is beyond me.

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmurs.

  “I was expecting you to be in something a little more…feminine,” I tease.

  He chuckles and pats the bag he’s carrying.

  “Don’t worry. It’s all in here. As if I’m going to walk out of here wearing a dress,” he grumbles. “Can you imagine if Lewis saw me?”

  I giggle at the mental picture that’s popping into my head.

  I know a twelve year old that would pay good money to see that.

  I shiver when he slips his hand into mine and leads me down to the elevators. The whole ride down to the basement, I pretend not to notice how Cam can’t keep his eyes off me. If it wasn’t for the man sharing the space with us, I’m not sure he could’ve contained himself. I catch his eye and smile at him, loving how worked up he is.

  “We can take my car, if you like?” I suggest.

  I’m paranoid about Jim coming over to see Cam and finding my car out front.

  Cam shrugs. “Okay.”

  We walk out the front, where my car is conveniently located right over the other side of the road. Cam frowns as we approach it. I laugh, because I get the feeling he’s regretting saying yes to this. His frown intensifies as I kick open my door to unlock it.

  “Are you sure this is going to get us there?” he asks. Then he hesitates. “And back.”

  I chuckle. “She goes fine. Better than yours at the moment,” I add with a grin. “You wanna see how a real car handles?” I ask, tossing him the keys. Looking at his horrified expression, you’d think I just asked him if he could fit two fingers inside his anus.

  “If this is a real car, then we’re both fucked,” he mutters.

  I roll my eyes at how dramatic he’s being. Sure, it might not be as fancy as his Rover, but it more than does the job.

  “I think you owe my car an apology,” I say when we pull into a spot outside the restaurant twenty minutes later.

  “An apology,” he repeats, amused. “Care to explain why?”

  “Because you doubted her abilities to get us here.”

  “I did,” he agrees. “Just as I’d doubt the abilities of a severely intoxicated person to walk in a straight line. More often than not, they’ll fail, but when one manages to fluke it, you don’t jump up and down cheering for them.”

  I roll my eyes. “I think secretly you’re much more impressed than you’re letting on.”

  He goes to get out, but then he stops to look at me when I clear my throat. My eyes dart toward his bag and I smile. He laughs, and rubs his jaw, while I get out of the car to give him some privacy. I shake my head, because I think he’s really doing it. I turn around when the door opens.

  “There,” he murmurs. “Satisfied?”

  I smile at him, using every bit of my strength to stop that smile from turning into a full on laughing fit. Because the sight of Cameron Hunter, wearing a cute little floral dress in public is too much. Maybe the joke is really on me, because not laughing at this is fucking torture.

  “You look really nice,” I say, taking his hand.

  “Thanks,” he grins. “I even shaved my legs.”

  I look down.

  Oh God. He did.

  Is that all he shaved? My face heats at the thought.

  “Yes.”

  I look up at him, alarmed. “Pardon?”

  “If you’re wondering if that’s all I shaved, the answer is yes.”

  I smile at him as we walk into the restaurant. He looks at me nervously.

  “What, have I got something my teeth?”

  I chuckle. “No, it’s more the cute little dress you’re wearing. For what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you,” I say. “I love that you have the confidence to walk in here wearing what you want to because it’s who you are.” I smile at him. “There’s nothing sexier than a chick with balls,” I add with a giggle.

  I see a flicker of something in his eyes, but then he smiles at me. He’s about to say something when a waiter approaches us. He doesn’t say anything, it’s like he sees this every day. He barely blinks as he leads us to a table. I love how laid-back this place is just like the reviews said, because as much as I want Cam to break, I don’t want it to be because he feels uncomfortable. I want him to break, because he feels bad about lying to me.

  But aren’t I doing the same thing, lying to him?

  “So…” I say.

  He chuckles. “Why do I feel like you want to burst into laughter every time you look at me?”

  “I promise that’s not true,” I say, but even as I said it, I’m biting back giggles.

  “It’s okay,” he says. “It must be pretty hard to get your head around seeing me like this, especially since you had this idea in your head that I was … what did that email say? Arrogant. Asshole. Selfish?” he teases.

  “Trust me, it’s not the dress that has me smiling, it’s just you.” I shrug. “I think about being here with you and it makes me happy.”

  “Well, hearing that makes me happy.” He grins. “But something tells me you weren’t lying about what you said in tha
t email.”

  I shake my head. “No, that was definitely my first impression of you.”

  “Why?” he asks curiously.

  “I don’t know, maybe it was the fact that I said hello to you and you looked me up and down and kept walking?” I say with a laugh. “Or how about those times when your dad was in the spotlight for one reason or another but all the papers were reporting was you and your latest conquest?”

  He smiles. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read. Things are usually a lot more complicated than they look. Take this for example.” He glances down at his dress. “Much more complicated than it seems.” He grins at me.

  Why?” I tease.

  “Because I’m sitting in the middle of the restaurant, wearing a dress. Why do you think?”

  I chuckle. I guess he makes a good point.

  After dinner we walk back to the car. Cameron gets a few odd looks, but mostly people walk by, like it’s no big deal. They must see this every day. I love that about this town. How a guy can walk down the street wearing a dress and no one blinks an eye. I reach up and touch his soft curls, loving how they bounce back against my fingers.

  “Think I should get extensions?” he quips.

  I shake my head. “No. I kind of like this just out of bed disheveled curly mop you’ve got going on.”

  “Do you? He grins.

  My heart races because for a moment I think he is going to kiss me, but then he just takes my hand and we keep walking.

  * * *

  I sleep most of the way back to the city, after Cam insisted on driving my car. I wake up as he pulls in front of his building. He glances over at me and smiles.

  “You’re awake,” he says. “Here I was thinking I was going to carry you upstairs.”

  “You can if you like,” I tease.

  He chuckles and opens the door, getting out still wearing his dress, but then he remembers. He quickly reaches over to the back to grab his pants and shirt, but I shake my head.

 

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