Making the Grade (Wicked Warrens, #4)

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Making the Grade (Wicked Warrens, #4) Page 10

by Marie Harte


  Behind the bitchy woman, two other well-dressed women tittered.

  “He’s just fine.” I sucked him off just the other day, right before he gave me multiple orgasms, thank you very much.

  “He is, isn’t he? But you dear thing, don’t get your hopes up. He’s just playing, sweetie. When he’s ready to join the big girls again, he’ll drop you back into the gutter where he found you.” She snorted. “Did you get that dress off the rack? A Target knockoff, hmm?”

  Annoyed, because Faith had found the cute dress at Ross’s, hello, she decided to give Darcy the fight she wanted. Besides, it wasn’t as if Brian would care.

  She thickened her accent. “Well, hell, yeah, honey. I got this dress at Walmart on sale for just ten dollars.” Then she stepped closer and whispered in a loud voice, “I just have to know. Are those titties real? ’Cause I gotta tell you, I paid a right fortune for mine.” Faith glanced down at her own chest and grinned back up at a shocked Darcy. “Just like your nose and lips.” Faith skimmed her finger down the woman’s nose. “Oh, wait, now I know why you looked so familiar. Ever worked at the Skin Flint on the east side? I’m thinking you ride the pole in a white thong and pasties. Am I right?”

  The woman’s eyes grew so wide Faith thought Darcy might faint. She stalked away instead, muttering about lowlife trash and security, her two toadies following behind.

  Faith chuckled, and behind her someone clapped.

  Hoping to find Brian or Rex, she wasn’t prepared to see Dr. Jeremy Pichter, asshole extraordinaire, in the flesh.

  Brian laughed at something Rex said, standing by the bar while he waited for Faith to return. He figured he’d put in enough time schmoozing with his father’s friends. He’d donated a few bucks as well. Time to call it a night.

  At least his father couldn’t say he hadn’t tried. For years, Brian had done nothing but try, until he realized nothing he ever did would satisfy the old man. So after moving away for ten years before returning with his own fortune, he’d tried once more. When even his money failed to impress his father, Brian figured nothing would.

  More than ready to leave, Brian looked around again and saw Darcy Stanfield tearing toward him across the floor, Brenda and Kelly behind her.

  Rex groaned. “Here comes the shark and her remoras.”

  Brian snapped his fingers. “Of course. Remoras. It’s Shark Week on TV, isn’t it? Love those things. Brenda and Kelly, not so much.”

  “I hear that. Still, they were right fine in the sack. Not Darcy, though. Fella’s gotta have some standards.”

  “You know it.” Brian clinked his glass against Rex’s. “Where’s Faith?”

  Darcy arrived in time to overhear him and sneered. “Figures you’d be slumming with that piece of trash you arrived with, Brian. And lo and behold, I find you with Reginald, too?”

  Rex groaned. “The pain. Make it stop. That name wounds, seriously.”

  Brian shook his head. “Can I help you with something, Darcy?” His stupid hormones had led him down the wrong path with the woman when he’d first returned to town. And she never let him forget it.

  He’d done the right thing—thank God—and turned her down when it became apparent she only wanted him for his money. A trade—she’d spread her legs, and he’d keep her in diamonds and four-hundred-dollar shoes. No thanks.

  “Your girlfriend asked if I did pole dances at the Skin Flint. Where do you find them, Brian?”

  Rex choked on his beer.

  Brian grinned. “Actually, I found her on the corner turning tricks. She’s not cheap, but she’s damn good on her knees.”

  Darcy’s eyes bulged. “Oh my God. You are such a pervert.”

  “Honey, if you think that’s bad, you really need to get out more.” Rex snorted.

  She started insulting Rex and his entire family, with Brenda and Kelly chiming in. Brian readied to defend his friend until he saw a man talking to Faith, one who put a guarded look on her face.

  “Be right back,” he said.

  “Hurry, I’m dying here, man,” Rex begged.

  Brian hustled to Faith but was waylaid by a few older women, friends of his mother’s. He shuffled past and managed to nearly reach Faith, but before he could join her, someone else bumped into him, sending him around the corner, hidden by a large fern. He peered around the wall and through the fronds, watching her reactions.

  “Really, Jeremy. How could you think I’d want anything to do with you again?”

  Brian stilled, then leaned closer, listening intently.

  “Faith.” Jeremy chuckled. “I know you’ve already wrapped those claws around someone else. Someone rich and connected, no doubt.” The man’s laugh grated on Brian’s last nerve.

  “Look, Dr. Ass, I admit I was with you for the wrong reasons. I gave you the God complex you needed, and all you did was put me down. I’m glad I broke it off.”

  “You were worth every penny, though. God, that mouth.”

  That’s it. Brian was going to deck the guy.

  “If you remember, I left all that clunky, ugly jewelry you bought me at your place. Too bad I couldn’t return the memory of your small, uninspiring dick as well.”

  Oh. That was nice. He grinned.

  “You little bitch.”

  “That’s big bitch, Jeremy. See these heels? You don’t take your hand off my arm, I’ll shove one of them through your balls.”

  “Try it.”

  Brian stepped around the corner and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Faith?”

  Before she could respond, Dr. Jeremy Pichter, an esteemed orthopedic surgeon who worked on the golf pros who ventured down to the Masters Tournament each year, turned to face him.

  “Well, well. If it isn’t Brian Goode. Nice to see you again.”

  The prick. Brian didn’t take the hand Pichter offered.

  Jeremy lowered it. He glanced from Brian to Faith. “Good God. Tell me you’re not sleeping with this whore.”

  “That’s white-trash whore to you,” Faith piped up. She spoke calmly, but Brian could see the angry, embarrassed flush on her face.

  “Faith, let me handle this.” He stared at Pichter, then smiled, throwing the man off balance. “She actually prefers hooker, Jeremy. And you are so right about her being hell on wheels in the sack. She practically blew my mind the other day. That and other things, am I right?” As he turned around, he elbowed Jeremy in the gut, seemingly by accident, but hard enough to send the man wheezing. “Shit. J, you okay?”

  He pretended to lean closer to help, then head-butted Pichter when he straightened. Jeremy shrieked and stumbled back, his nose bloodied.

  Brian feigned more pain than he felt. “Damn it. Faith, get help. I think Jeremy busted my head.”

  “I’ll hurry.” He saw the laughter in her eyes as he continued to complain about a headache.

  Two servers soon joined them, following Faith. One of them took Jeremy away. Brian waved the other off. “I’m good.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But you might want to help Dr. Pichter. I think he broke his nose.”

  The server nodded and hustled off to get Pichter medical attention. Faith stood next to him, joined by Rex, who was watching with amusement.

  Brian tugged at his jacket sleeves and crooked his arm for Faith. “I’m tapped. My head hurts, and if I have to look at Darcy one more time, I might vomit.”

  “Brother, I am so there with you,” Rex commiserated.

  “Where’s your date?” Brian asked.

  “Her grandmother took her home. Said she didn’t want me corrupting her precious baby. And man, I had some major corruption planned.”

  Faith laughed. “You’re bad, Rex.”

  “You have no idea.”

  But Brian did. “Well, go corrupt someone else. We have plans.”

  “Bye, Rex.” Faith put her hand on Brian’s arm and walked with him out of the ballroom into the lobby of the hotel. “We have plans?”

  “Y
eah. After a sundae at the ice cream parlor, you owe me a look under that dress.”

  “I really do,” she agreed. “After all, your poor head.” She gripped his arm and planted a kiss on his lips that aroused him without effort. “My hero.”

  “Come on, you skanky hooker. Ice cream, then a visit to the Skin Flint and we’re golden.”

  She blushed and laughed as they exited the hotel. “Pole dances for everyone!”

  The attendant waiting by Brian’s car stared at her with wide eyes. “Some kind of party, huh?”

  Brian winked. “Oh yeah. These rich guys really know how to throw down. Jay-Z is doing a second set and I think the judge just killed a hooker.”

  The young man watched them drive away with his mouth open.

  Faith put her hand over his on his lap. “Well, I’ve spent worse evenings.”

  “If you dated that dickhead Pichter, I bet you have.”

  She grew silent. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

  “Seriously? I’m just sorry I didn’t bust a few of his teeth along with his nose.”

  She snorted, then burst into laughter again.

  “Oh yeah. Ice cream, here we come.”

  Chapter Ten

  Faith didn’t know how she’d done it, but she’d survived the night among the rich and obnoxious without suffering too much damage.

  She’d never admit it to anyone, but seeing Jeremy had been a good and bad thing. Good, because she knew now what a bad fit he’d been and thanked her lucky stars she’d left him. Bad because, despite the immature insults hurled at her by people she couldn’t care less about, they’d ripped a chink in her armor.

  “Faith, how did the verbal attack make you feel?” Dylan was asking the next evening at her session.

  She needed to talk to someone about her weird feelings, and Dylan was the perfect foil. “It empowered me, and it made me feel bad.”

  “Why?”

  “Because even though I knew that bitch was just jealous, not to mention plastic,” she added nastily, noting Dylan’s smothered grin, “she got to me. I hate that.”

  Dylan steepled his fingers under his chin. “Why did she get to you, do you think?”

  “Because Brian can buy and sell me without blinking an eye.” She didn’t know for certain what he made, but if teasing him about his millions had made an impact, she knew for certain he pulled in at least seven figures a year. Way more than she’d ever take in.

  Though she’d been doing her best to focus on just them and not the material things surrounding them, she couldn’t ignore his car, his house or his rich friends.

  Speaking of friends, she still wondered if what she’d suspected were true. Had Rex been the man watching them in the club?

  “Faith?”

  She dragged her gaze from her clenched hands back to Dylan. Sitting across from him in his home office, she should have felt more at ease. But tonight, her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Love, lust, confusion, embarrassment, worthlessness...

  “Yeah?” she said.

  “How does Brian make you feel? Without his money, what is he to you?”

  She blew out a breath. “I wish I knew.”

  “Think about it.”

  She did, and her eyes filled without warning. “Shit. I knew this would happen.”

  Dylan held out a box of tissues.

  She took one and wiped her eyes before blowing her nose. “You swear you won’t tell Freddy or Harper this?”

  “Faith,” Dylan chided. “I’ve never shared anything my patients have said. To anyone.”

  “I know. It’s just, saying it out loud makes it real.”

  “Saying what?” he prodded.

  “I think I love him.”

  “Is that so bad?” Dylan asked with a smile. “Love is unselfish, giving, true. A positive emotion. If you’re feeling it, you believe you deserve to be loved.”

  “Do I? I’m still Alice Sumner’s daughter. The child of the town whore.”

  “Faith...”

  “Well, she is. She’s fucking proud of it.” The crux of her problems with her mother. Alice didn’t mind not having any money, because she’d sleep her way to a new stereo or new brakes for her car. The hell of it was, her seductions worked. She had a pretty face and toned body. The curse of the Sumner line, apparently.

  “I hate that she has no self-respect.”

  Dylan nodded.

  “I mean, I dumped Jeremy. He was such a dick.” She smiled in thought. “I think Brian broke his nose.”

  “Oh?”

  She recounted what had happened, and Dylan snorted with laughter. “I wish I could have seen that.”

  “It was awesome.” Her eyes watered again. “Damn. I just... I still wonder if I’m worth the effort. Shouldn’t I be over that? Shouldn’t I know he did the right thing for a strong, resourceful woman? Why am I still wondering if maybe Darcy was right? That I’m just trashy and trying to grab on to a man I can’t have?”

  “Why can’t you have him? Because Brian has money? Does that really make him better than you?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” She wiped her nose. “I feel like I’m regressing. I was so strong before. I hated men, and I knew I was awesome. Now I’m in love and feeling like shit.”

  “Love does that. Insecurity, vulnerability, risk. By opening yourself up, you’re allowing yourself to possibly get hurt. But you’re living, Faith. You’re feeling again. I see such a strong woman when I look at you. One who won’t tolerate being used again. Didn’t you tell Brian to kiss off when he tried to apologize by buying you gifts?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And didn’t you force him to be honest with you?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Did any part of you want to get back with Jeremy or use Brian for his wealth?”

  “No.” She glared at Dylan. “Of course not.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I’m not some loser skank out to snag a man for his money.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Exactly.” She heard herself say it and started to believe it again.

  “Faith, when’s the last time you saw your mother?”

  She squirmed on the couch. “I don’t know.”

  “Eight months. Isn’t that right?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  “I think you should see her.” He paused. “You should take Brian with you.”

  “Are you crazy?” She could just imagine her mother trying to cozy Brian out of fifty bucks. Or worse, offering to earn the money.

  “Faith, you say you love Brian. Do you think he loves you back?”

  “I, well, I think so.” He’d swept her off her feet after the fund-raiser. And he’d told her he’d never been more proud to be seen with a woman in his life. The words still resonated because he’d been so sincere, and so loving afterward. “I know he feels something for me.”

  “Take him to meet your mother. If he’s the man you think he is, he won’t be put off by poor finances or nutty relatives. After all, he trusted you not to drop him after meeting his father.”

  “You think?”

  “Faith, I’ve met the man. Judge Goode is not a pleasant person, on a good day.” He shook his head. “That has nothing to do with being a therapist and everything to do with loathing my soon-to-be father-in-law.”

  “You’re getting married?”

  “Someday. Well, Harper will or I will. I’m not sure how we’ll work it, but the point is, everyone has a crazy in-law. Hell, my poor partners have to deal with me having an annoying twin.”

  She grinned with him.

  “Love is about accepting as much as emoting. We all have flaws. When you love someone, you see past the bad to the good. And you accept the bad with the good.”

  “You do mean good as in G-O-O-D, right?”

  “God forbid I make a bad pun. Freddy and Harper are horrible about it. I feel for Brian on the nights he visits.”

  She chuckled. “You make me feel better, Dylan.�


  “That’s part of my job. But the more important part is making you own up to your choices and your feelings. You’re only inadequate if you feel inadequate. Don’t judge someone because of what they drive or how much they make. Don’t prejudice yourself against Brian because he’s a hard worker and earns a tidy sum. Like him for who he is. Love yourself for who you are, not what you earn.”

  She sighed. “Yes, Doctor.”

  “I’m serious, Faith. Go see your mother.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  And she had. It just so happened her mother had a birthday on Saturday. Faith had shored up her courage and asked Brian to come with her to visit Alice. And damn it all, he’d agreed.

  She drove them in her car with the windows down, the weather a surprisingly warm sixty degrees. Faith swallowed a curse. She knew what her mother would think upon seeing Brian. “Now remember. She’s probably going to come on to you, so don’t be surprised if she does. She likes men, and you’re too good-looking by far.”

  “Thanks, sugar.”

  “Quit with the Southern charm,” she warned. “Act ugly.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Brian saluted her.

  “Smartass.”

  He laughed. “Faith, relax. You didn’t kick me to the curb after dealing with hangin’ Judge Goode and Darcy the Emaciated.”

  “Nice one.”

  “Thanks, but Rex gets credit for that one.”

  She turned her attention back to the road, frowning. “Speaking of Rex. Was he the one...?”

  “What one?”

  “You know. The one in our room in the club?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Hell yeah. I can’t sit in a meeting with him, knowing he beat off while you fucked me.”

  “God, woman. Stop talking like that. You don’t want me meeting your mother with a woody, do you?”

  She groaned.

  “I never said it was Rex. I’d just as soon you thought of our voyeur as a faceless person. Unless you have a thing for Rex?”

  “Don’t be silly. You know I only look at you.”

  He settled into the seat and put his hands behind his head. “Good.”

  “Don’t get cocky.”

  “Tell you what. If I charm your mother and don’t freak out about anything, will you move in with me?”

 

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