by Mj Fields
Evie lifts her glass of wine and winks at him as she takes a sip.
He looks back at Mitsi. “You married your high school boyfriend”—he pauses when she gasps and covers her mouth—“because he promised to take over his daddy’s car dealership, and you’d be driving a new fancy car every year. The only thing you’d have to do is have a few kids to carry on his legacy. You’d have nice things, keep a nice house, make sweet tea, and make sure dinner was on the table when he came home from work at five o’clock every night. The downfall? You knew you’d have to put up with a lame lay for the rest of your life.”
Evie burst out laughing, and Mitsi gives her a dirty look.
“You jumped at the chance because that’s every girl’s dream.”
She smiles and looks down.
Vincent points at Evie. “You were the hottest girl in school. Every girl wanted to be you, and every guy wanted to fuck you.”
The other girls laugh as Evie smirks and shrugs one shoulder.
“You went through them all, too, because, unlike Mitsi, you didn’t want to just settle for the dream. You wanted the fantasy.”
“Nothing wrong with that, sugar.” Evie winks.
“Your senior year in high school was spent wearing your college boyfriend’s letterman jacket and waiting for his phone calls.” Vincent takes a drink then sets it back down. “When he came home, he fucked you like the stallion he was, showing you just how much he missed your pussy while he was away at college and couldn’t wait until you joined him.”
“Oh, my God, he’s good,” one of them gasps.
“You visited a few times unexpectedly, caught him slipping up, and bought into the fact that it was never going to happen again and that he was drunk or just missed you so much he couldn’t control it because guys have needs. He probably played in one, maybe two games a season, because he really wasn’t that fucking good, but he thought he was and made you believe it, too.”
Her face starts to turn red.
“You were terribly upset, but you told him you understood and trusted him.”
Now she’s nearly purple.
“But you didn’t. Hell, who did he think he was, fucking around on the hottest, most desired ass in your quaint, little hometown.”
Her eyes widen.
“So, you exacted revenge every damn time.” Vincent laughs. “You fucked everything you had turned down while giving off the illusion the two of you had the perfect relationship and you were oh so faithfully waiting for him to come home and give you the best fuck you ever had, because that poor bastard realized the only thing he actually had was the pretty girl. You ate it up, thinking you were the only one fucking around, but you weren’t.”
“Shut up,” Evie hisses.
“Then you got married. He probably works for your friend’s husband and is the highest paid because he’s the biggest selling salesman at the dealership. Your friend’s husband probably kisses his ass because he doesn’t have to work all that fucking hard at anything but getting it up for his wife two, maybe three days a week, for the same number of minutes.”
Mitsi covers her mouth and gasps.
“Don’t blame yourself, Mitsi. I’m sure your body looks the same as it did in high school, and you work your ass off for it.”
Mitsi gives him an aw, you care look.
“But your tits are tiny, and as he’s hovering over you, eyes squinted, trying to get off as fast as he can, he’s picturing a woman like Paige who has amazing tits and a fuck of a lot more upstairs than any of you ever have.”
She reaches up and slaps his face, and I hurry over to get between them.
“Don’t you touch him again,” I snap at Mitsi then turn to him. “Vincent, that’s enough.”
“Oh, Paige, I’m only getting started. Wait until I tell them that Evie fucked at least two of their boyfriends in high school, and Mitsi works out so Evie’s husband keeps trying to get her in bed, which she eats up because she is so sick of playing second fiddle to a miserable bitch like her.” He looks around me and at them. “I’m not pretty good. I’m fucking spot on.”
“Vincent, stop,” I tell him.
“Why, Paige? These people sure as hell had a lot to say about you while you were in the bathroom.”
Joe laughs out loud and says, “He’s right, Pea.”
“Joe,” I sigh out his name. “As a business owner, you should stay out of it.” Then I whisper, “You need their money.”
“Not for long, Pea, not for long.” He shakes his head as he walks toward the back.
I turn and look at Vincent, who starts to say something.
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
I watch the women grab their purses and all but run out the door.
“My God.” He shakes his head as he reaches out, grabbing my face. “I was worried your balls were bigger than mine.”
I can’t help laughing. “They are.”
He kisses my forehead and inhales as he whispers, “I do care about the girls.”
I push against his chest. “Don’t do that to me again.”
He looks down. “Do what?”
“Push me away.”
He scowls. “I didn’t.”
“But you did. I’m trying here, and you keep throwing up warning signs.”
Again, he presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
Chapter 13
F**kin Perfect
Vincent
In the truck, which only took a momentary stare down between us before her curvy ass sat in the passenger seat, I look over at her.
“You and I need to get some shit straight.”
She starts to say something, but I hold my hand up, stopping her.
“I’m not good at this. You aren’t much better.”
I wait for an argument, a sarcastic response. I don’t get it. I get a nod.
Thank God.
“I’m not going anywhere. I made a decision based on something fucked up in my chest.”
She bites her bottom lip, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m dedicating two years. This works—”
“This meaning what?” she asks.
“The business, you and me—all of it,” I clarify.
“You’re assuming I’m not going back to New York, and that I want to ‘put in two years,’ as well?” She uses air quotes.
“For fuck’s sake, Paige, no games. You want me. Clearly, you fucking want me—”
She reaches out and playfully smacks me in the chest.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You think you’re God’s gift to women, don’t you?”
“Never had a single woman look at me without fondness or desire; your Babička included.”
To that, she looks out the passenger window and smirks, thinking I don’t see her. I do.
“Also, because of how I look, I’ve been able to be choosy. I fuck what I want and—”
She turns and glares at me. It’s hot. I like it, but I know it can get out of hand, so I clarify.
“I choose you. I bought a fucking company to show good faith.”
“So, this is all business, is it?”
I shrug. “You got me in a position I didn’t think I’d be in. So, if you and I can’t come up with a plan for us, then yes, it’s one hundred percent business. We do, then we’re most definitely going to mix business with pleasure.”
She shakes her head at me with a smirk on her face. Her face is art, beautiful fucking art.
“I’m not fucking around about this. You so much as look in Warren or anyone else’s direction, and I will sell the whole thing off.”
“Oh, my God, Vincent,” she gasps.
“Tell me I’m an asshole. I don’t care. That’s how this is gonna work.”
Get pissed, lady. I fucking want you to so badly.
“Then the same goes for you,” she demands.
“Done.”
“It’s that easy, is it?”
“
The way I see it, relationships, personal and business, fail because people don’t have three things.” I hold up one finger. “Honesty.” I hold up a second. “Loyalty.” Then I hold up a third. “Respect.”
I watch her eyes narrow, but not in anger; in thought.
“I’ve already given you those. Give them to me and we’re golden.”
“What about attraction? That’s pretty important.”
I nod. “We’re obviously already attracted to one another. And Paige, you’re gonna have to get over that I’m not like one of your exes. I’m not intimidated by your looks. I know damn well I’m equally as attractive as you.”
She blushes and looks down at her phone. “We’re already late. We should go.”
I hold out my hand. “Do we have a deal?”
She closes her eyes and slowly nods once. “Yes.”
“Good. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier on your family if they see you trust me.” I thrust my hand out farther. “Your word and a handshake—I want both.”
She reaches out slowly, cautiously, and I take her hand and shake it. And no, I don’t let go.
She’s quiet. I get it. She’s had hours, not days or weeks, to wrap her mind around this.
I have.
“Vincent?”
I squeeze her hand. “Paige?”
“How do you know where you’re going?”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye as I pull down her road. “Really?”
She shrugs.
“What?” I half-laugh, knowing she’s smart, inquisitive, and this question is leading to something.
“I know nothing about you, aside from what I’ve seen over the past nine years.”
I pull into the paved driveway of her family’s ranch-style home that has gray wood siding with an attached garage. The yard is landscaped beautifully. It has a nice beach feel. The pictures actually did it no justice.
I put the vehicle in park and turn to give her my attention. “What would you like to know?” I ask, knowing full well what she wants to know. I wanted to tell her earlier, but then she started throwing up down the side of my boat.
“Who did that to you?” Her eyes narrow, then she adds, “And why?”
“Several people, and because I fought back.”
Immediately, tears spring to her eyes.
“Paige, I don’t think you walking into your family’s home in tears will make me any more marketable to them.”
She sits back and pulls her phone out of those ridiculous overalls and starts sending a text.
“What are you doing?”
“Telling Pace that tonight’s not a good night for dinner.”
I take the phone from her. “If I have two years to win them over, we’re going to need all the time we have.”
“What?” She laughs.
“I’m on my best fucking behavior, lady. It won’t last. Soon, they’ll see the me you saw for over nine years—the real me.”
She smiles sadly. “I like this you better.”
“It’s the same me; you’ll see. Your views are just now tainted by my tongue and cock.” I wink then jump out of the truck before she has a chance to continue. At her side, I open the door and hold out my hand, “You ready?”
She is.
As we walk up the sidewalk, I look beside me to see Paige is staring at our hands.
“Make you uncomfortable?” I squeeze her hand.
“Bringing a boy home?” she jokes.
“Right. How many guys have you lived with?” I ask, trying to rein in the bitterness that thought brings, for no fucking reason other than I hate any motherfucker who’s had her.
“Lived with?” She scratches her head as if she’s thinking about it.
When it takes too long, I can’t hold back. “Four. The answer’s four.”
“Seven, actually.” She shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
“Seven?”
“You’re jealous.” She smiles then shrugs. “I should ask how many women you’ve shacked up with.”
“That’s easy. None.” I know at thirty-two—her age—and twenty-eight—my age—people have a past, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
When we stop at the door, she pokes me in the chest. “You’ve lived with three.”
The front door opens when I am about to tell her that was work then demand to know who the other three were.
“You’re late,” Pace says. “Dinner’s ready, and if you don’t get in here and eat, Babička is likely to fall asleep in her potatoes.”
As we are walking in, she whispers, “That’s one of the three you missed while digging around in my past.”
I realize now the other three she’s shacked up with—her term, not mine—are her brother, father, and her grandfather who lived with them while she was growing up.
I take in the surroundings as we walk in. I could blame it on occupational hazard, but it isn’t. I want to know what’s important to her, aside from her family’s business, that she was willing to do whatever she could to save.
“Come on in,” her mother says, smiling.
Entering the kitchen, I immediately see Babička, and she sees me.
“Stephan, come sit.”
I’m already aware of how fond Paige is of her, and from what I’ve experienced in the short time since I met her, I’m going to like her, too. Even if she hasn’t got a fucking clue who I am.
I let go of Paige’s hand and walk over to sit beside her. As soon as I sit, she grips my knee, which shocks me.
I immediately look at Paige, who is biting her lower lip to stop from laughing. She obviously saw what just happened.
When Babička begins smoothing her fingers up and down my kneecap, I look over at her, and she grins.
I hear Pace laugh as he walks behind me, carrying two large bowls that he sets down on the table.
I reach under the table and hold Babička’s hand to stop her caresses. She sighs and rests her head on my arm.
Paige walks over and takes one of the large, ceramic bowls, carrying it back behind me and Babička. When she’s next to her, she scoops out some of the contents of what I now know is a pot roast and puts it on the plate in front of Babička.
“Oh, I’m not quite that hungry,” Babička tells her as she hands me the bowl.
I set it on the table, unwilling to release Babička’s hand, fearing where it may lead. Then I scoop some of the contents out and onto my plate before setting the wooden spoon back in it. I start to pick it up to pass it to Pace when he takes it.
“You’ve got your hands full enough; I have this.”
“Just five bites, Babička, okay?” Paige holds up the spoon for her to eat, and she does. After each bite, Paige stops and uses the cloth napkin to dab the corner of her lips as Babička eats slowly. I see Pace scooping some of the roast onto his mother’s plate as she looks at him with adoration in her eyes.
There isn’t a whole lot of conversation around the table, so I concentrate on Paige feeding her grandmother. This is another side of Paige Arnesen; a sweeter, kinder, gentler side. I like it.
After Babička’s fourth bite, she rests her head against my arm again, and I feel the weight of her head becoming heavier.
Paige sighs. “She’s asleep.”
“You won’t have to fight to get her to bed tonight, Pea,” Pace says, pushing back from the table to stand. “I’ll get her.” Pace picks his grandmother up out of the chair beside me then begins to walk out of the kitchen, Paige following.
I see their mother watching them, tears filling her sad eyes, but none spill. She looks away and at me, smiling sadly. Then she looks at my plate then up at me, shocked.
I eat quickly, realizing I haven’t touched my food. I don’t want to offend the woman. I was too preoccupied watching her daughter.
“Would you like more?”
“It was delicious, but I’m full. Thank you, Mrs. Arnesen.”
She nods then slowly stands.
I see her hand shake as s
he begins to clear the table and stand up to start helping her, grabbing Paige’s empty plate.
“Should I make her a plate?”
Her mother smiles and nods. “That’s very thoughtful, Vincent.”
After making her plate, I take the two ceramic bowls and stack the empty plates on them before carrying them to the sink. Paige’s mother slowly walks around, collecting the silverware.
I scrape the plates into the garbage as she walks over to the sink and starts rinsing the utensils.
We both look up at the sound of Pace’s laugh.
“Well, that’s certainly great news. I’ll be there within thirty minutes.” He pauses, a phone held to his ear. “As a matter of fact, the new owner is here.” He chuckles. “It’s a long story, Dad.” He pauses and listens. “Of course.” He hangs up, smiling at his mother. “Dad can come home.”
“What? I thought … they said a couple more days.” She smiles as tears roll down her cheeks.
“Should we let him stay?” Pace jokes.
“No, of course not.” She laughs. “Let me get my things. Let’s go get him.”
“Mom, I was thinking maybe I’d take him.” He points at me.
“Why would you do that?” she asks.
“Because I think Dad may have a few things to say to him.”
“No,” Paige says as she walks into the kitchen. “I’ll talk to Dad.”
“Paige, I’d like to,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “It’ll be best if I do.”
“It’s not about what’s best. It’s about what’s right.” I look at Pace. “You ready?”
He nods.
“I’m going,” Paige insists.
I look at her, trying to keep my calm, though she can clearly see I’m not. “Paige—”
“I’m going.”
“Why don’t you all go?” her mom steps in.
“Someone needs to stay here,” Paige tells her.
“I’m perfectly capable of being alone, Paige.”
“And I’m perfectly capable of—”
“Paige, a minute?” I walk out of the kitchen and to the front door where I wait for her.
When she comes out, she stands in front of me, arms crossed over her tits, pushing them together and causing them to spill a little out of her tank top. She snaps her fingers in front of my eyes, and I look up.