Bet Me Something
By Aubrey Bondurant
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is for mature audiences only.
Cover by: coversbykaren.com
Text copyright © 2016 by Aubrey Bondurant
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CONNECT WITH AUBREY
CHAPTER ONE
My mother was my kryptonite. Literally draining my strength with her very presence and killing my decision making powers.
“I really dislike that we’re having this conversation while your very expensive graduation party is happening outside these office doors, McKenzie.”
You mean the party I didn’t ask for? Of course that internal retort wouldn’t dare make it past my lips. I’d never managed more than a passive-aggressive attempt—emphasis on the passive part—at rebuking my mother’s wishes. Instead I regressed to an eight year old whenever she used her disappointed tone. I loathed this girl: the one who couldn’t stand up as a twenty-two-year-old adult to voice her own opinions without being afraid of her mother’s reaction.
Ensuring my words were calm, I posed the question, “Could you please tell me why Mr. Higgins seems to think I’m attending Georgetown University this fall?”
Agitation was evident in her eyes. For a mom of three grown children, she could easily pass for ten years younger than her sixty-two due to regimented daily workouts and a healthy dose of Botox. Matter of fact, I was pretty sure she was frowning now, but her face didn’t move a muscle as she aimed a glare towards my father.
I guessed being golfing buddies with Mr. Higgins wasn’t earning him any favors at the moment. My father’s lean build towered over my mother’s slight one, providing an ironic image regarding who was actually in charge here.
She refocused on me, but I had no doubt my dad would receive some choice words later. “It’s bad enough that you told us you had an emergency to speak with us about, but this topic is definitely not urgent. This can be discussed tomorrow.”
Unbelievable. Considering I had every intention of staying on the West Coast and not going to a college in DC, this was an emergency. I took a deep breath, knowing I would need it and repeated the question. “Why would Mr. Higgins think I’m attending Georgetown?”
“You realize your party cost thousands of dollars, and there are over one hundred people outside.”
I prayed for patience. Actually I internally said a few choice four-letter words first. “I appreciate the effort, truly, but what I don’t understand is why anyone would think I’m going to school out here.” Although I might not be thrilled about business school in general, I’d been accepted to UCLA where I wanted to go.
She sighed, obviously running out of patience. “You wish to discuss it now. Fine. You’ve had your fun out in Los Angeles long enough. Quite frankly, the only reason you were allowed to go to UCLA undergraduate was because of your athletic scholarship. Now that it has ended and you’ve exercised your independence, the best place for you is back at home.”
“But—but—I’m accepted to UCLA business school.” Panic was starting to build.
“Not anymore you aren’t. You’re now enrolled at Georgetown.”
I loved my mother, but there were times I had to remind myself that she returned the sentiment. “Why didn’t you discuss this with me?”
My eyes flicked towards my father, who moved to the desk and poured himself a scotch. If only I could be so lucky as to have something to take the edge off this unfolding nightmare. My mother did that to people: drove them to drink. But while she was controlling, my father was the opposite: completely indifferent. The combination was slightly south of functional, but for whatever reason, they seemed to have stuck it out over the last twenty-three years.
“There’s nothing to discuss. You’re completely dependent on us to pay, not only for your rent, but also for school and living expenses. Therefore when we tell you to come home, that’s what you’re going to do.”
Awareness hit me that she wasn’t wrong. And it sucked. But as much as I was reeling with the very idea of moving home, the more pressing issue was that I’d lined up a dream internship for the summer in downtown LA, a job which started next week. Concluding I might not be able to argue the school situation successfully at the moment, I went for the short-term goal. “Can I at least stay for the summer?”
“I don’t see why that would be necessary.”
“Well, I was planning to tell you tomorrow. I have a great intern job—”
My father looked as though he was going to speak, but she cut him off. “Please tell me it has nothing to do with music. And is it even paid?”
Her words definitely touched a nerve as music had always been my true passion. She’d never been supportive of it, calling it a frivolous hobby ever since I’d learned to play the guitar my late grandfather had given to me the Christmas I turned ten. Then again, I’d not had the guts to do anything except play in my own room and sing to the mirror. But I was hoping to change that this summer with the chance of working for a top record producer in his studio. I’d be exposed to dozens of artists, not to mention receive an inside view of the business. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and, considering I’d beat out over a thousand other candidates, there was no way I was giving it up. The internship was unpaid, but luckily I had enough in savings to cover the summer’s rent, which meant I wasn’t technically lying.
“I’d be able to pay for my apartment.”
“What would you be doing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Thank God I was saved from having to come up with another clever half-truth by a knock at the door, which opened to reveal one of the caterers. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Lane, but we have an issue with the oven.”
With a huff, my mother glanced back and then hurried out the door, most likely to unleash her displeasure on an unsuspecting caterer.
Alone with my father, I turned towards him, hoping for an ally. “Dad. I want to stay in LA.”
He looked resigned. “Honey, I fought your mother on sending you out there in the first place, but I won’t win this one. At least not for now. Give it a few months, and things may change.”
What in the hell did he mean by that?
He put his hand on my shoulder, looking sympathetic. “Is this summer internship that important to you?”
“It really is.” Not only was I hoping it would open the door to some sort of career involving music, but now it also seemed critical in buying some time to figure out what else I could do with regard to grad school. If only he would stick up for me and what I wanted.
“Your mother may n
ot listen to me; however it might help if Brian weighed in, given that he’s the best one to talk her into anything. Now go out and try to enjoy the rest of your party.”
Hope flared for the first time since this entire conversation had started, and I set off from the home office with a purpose in mind. My dad was right in that my older brother Brian was the one person who might have some influence over my mother.
Even though he was technically my half-brother since we had different fathers, and he was eleven years my senior, we were closer than a lot of other siblings might be, and I loved him dearly. Brian always had an uncanny ability to read our mother and figure out the best way to manage her. But after our mandatory family pictures on the lawn earlier, he’d disappeared with his girlfriend, Sasha. I hadn’t seen either of them since. Perhaps they were enjoying a moment of privacy. I hated to interrupt, but desperate times called for frantic sisterly interruptions such as this. Taking out my phone, I fired off a quick text:
“SOS, need to talk about Mom.”
Wishing I was in sneakers instead of these three-inch heels, I tried not to appear too panicked in trying to locate Brian as I navigated through a house full of guests. It wasn’t like him to leave without saying goodbye, so I hoped he’d come find me soon or at least respond to my text. He would definitely know what to do; he was a fixer who nothing ever seemed to rattle. Yep, if I could find my brother, I might have a chance at working this all out by the time my head hit the pillow tonight.
My eyes scanned the lawn and when I saw Brian walking towards me, my relief was immediate. Then I noted the distress on his face. “What’s wrong?”
He attempted a half-hearted smile despite whatever was happening. “Nothing. Uh, Sasha had to leave to take care of a work crisis.”
He was lying. Something had happened and he obviously wasn’t going to tell me what. It wasn’t in his character to do so, and with it being my party, there was no way I’d get it out of him. Even though selfishly I could use his help with my predicament, I didn’t hesitate to tell him what he needed to hear. “You should go help her then.”
His face looked hopeful, speaking volumes about his true feelings. Then he shook his head. “This is your graduation party. Plus I got your text. What’s happening with Mom that you need my help?”
Putting my hand on his arm, I swallowed hard, willing myself not to say a word about my dilemma. He may not want to confide the real issue, but I wasn’t going to make him suffer along with me during the remainder of the party. “Nothing that’s a big deal and I’m bailing to go out with my friends as soon as I can, so please don’t feel like you need to stay a minute longer.”
Relief flooded his features. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
He kissed my forehead and then quickly flew out the front door towards his car.
I was screwed. Without my father’s support or Brian’s, I had nothing except the stark reality that I would have no choice but to succumb to my mother’s wishes. Even if I went back to LA intent on getting a paying job, I wouldn’t be able to work full time and also do the internship. Maybe I could moonlight as a waitress or bartender on the weekends, though even then, things were expensive.
Plastering a smile on my face, I wondered how I could pull off the last hour of my party and headed to the bar for some liquid reserve. But, unfortunately, Rebecca, my eldest brother Ben’s wife, had the keen ability of a predator to sense weakness in a herd—even from across the room. She came over to me with a drink in hand. I wasn’t often her target, but today evidently wasn’t done kicking my ass.
“When do you return to LA, Kenzie?”
I quirked a brow at her attempt at normal conversation but had no choice except to proceed in order to remain polite. “On Monday.”
“Ah, I bet you’re anxious to get packed up and moved back here.”
I sucked in a breath, realizing she’d also been privy to my mother’s plan. Just how many people had been told before I’d found out?
She sipped her drink, looking smug. “I wonder why is it that you wish to stay in LA anyhow. Could it be for the same person who had you moving out there in the first place? You know it’ll probably be a nice reprieve for him not to have to babysit you any longer.”
As often as I had envisioned a scenario where I could be cool and have amazing comebacks to her snide comments, it had yet to actually happen. Instead, I flushed at her implication that my reason for moving and staying in Los Angeles was because my long-time crush lived there.
“Why, hello, Colby. Were your ears burning?” Rebecca’s grin was diabolical. She’d clearly seen him come up behind me.
Shit. She’d completely set me up. Turning around slowly, I saw the object of my thoughts since age six, when I’d discovered how ‘dreamy’ the next-door neighbor boy was: Colby Singer. I felt the flush deepen. We’d cultivated a great friendship over the four years since I’d moved out to LA and for the most part, I was comfortable around him, but I certainly didn’t want him witnessing this exchange. Especially since it revolved around him.
His gaze narrowed, and he immediately dismissed Rebecca, focusing on me instead. “Everything okay?”
Standing over six feet tall, with the toned body of an athlete under his suit and a devastatingly handsome baby face, he definitely earned the appreciative looks women gave him. Unfortunately his nearness didn’t do anything for my verbal abilities however.
All it took was my hesitation for Rebecca to jump right in. “I was posing the question as to what or who in the world inspired her to move to LA, of all places, for school…” She let the obvious implication hang out there.
If he hadn’t heard her before, he definitely wasn’t going to miss her insinuation now. Was it possible to want to run out of a room, burst into tears and envision throat-punching someone all at the same time? Because all three scenarios were churning in my mind. Now more than anything, I wished so badly to appear cool and collected in front of Colby, but instead I proved myself zero for two when it came to confrontation amongst my family. So I did what I seemed to do best in their company: I completely shut down. Unfortunately, Colby was not only there to see it, but he also reinforced Rebecca’s babysitter comment by speaking up for me.
“She moved to LA because she received a full athletic scholarship. As if that wasn’t enough, she got the added bonus of being three thousand miles away from you, Rebecca.”
Not to be outdone, she fired back. “You’re awfully judgey for a man who’s probably slept his way through half the women in Southern California.”
His jaw ticked. “Even if that were true, I still wouldn’t find you remotely attractive enough to join the lucky masses.”
Rebecca turned pink; however before she could voice a comeback, Colby led me away from her.
“That was unpleasant, as usual. You all right?”
“Sure,” I lied, refusing to let the man about whom I’d fantasized for as long as I could remember see any more of my embarrassment.
He searched my face, turning me towards the bar. “I don’t believe you. Come on, let’s get you a drink, and you can tell me what’s wrong, Kenz.”
My stomach fluttered like it always did when he shortened my name to one syllable. Most of my friends and family used Kenzie or my given name of McKenzie, but Colby had always called me Kenz. Even knowing he probably never thought twice about using the nickname, it still made me feel special.
It was tempting to unload everything on him. Truth be told, he’d make a great sounding board. But the thought of coming across as a dependent child when I wanted him to see me as a grown woman kept me from doing so. As fate would have it, while I was contemplating what to tell him, we were interrupted by my mother, who I’d secretly hoped to avoid for the remainder of the party. She insisted that I rejoin the masses to do my duty.
“McKenzie, you need to ensure you say goodbye to the guests who are leaving—seeing as they all came for you.”
Mom-guilt royally sucked, especial
ly when I was so upset with her. But years of engrained etiquette kicked in, as I eyed my untouched drink with regret. “Talk to you later,” I mumbled without meeting Colby’s eyes. I knew my regression to a dutiful twelve-year-old daughter was not exactly winning me any seduction points.
My mother was all about protocol and manners, which meant that for the next hour I dutifully thanked and said goodbye to every guest present. It was somewhat awkward to be at my own party and hardly know anyone, but it made going through the motions while being completely numb easier to pull off. I’d have preferred a small get-together, like a barbeque with my actual friends and family, but as with everything, I hadn’t thought it worth the effort to fight my mother about the party plans. If I needed a reminder of why I preferred to stay across the country in Los Angeles, this was a prime one. Because not even at my own celebration had I been in control of the smallest detail, including the guest list. My one single act of defiance today had been to wear a dress my mother hadn’t picked out. Oh, yeah, I was a real rebel.
***
After all of the guests had departed, I snuck away to the one place I’d always had as an escape. The tree house that Colby’s father had built with him, Colby’s older brother, Josh, and Brian during one summer when they were kids. It perched on the border between our two houses. I hadn’t been up here in years and noticed right away that the wooden structure twenty feet up in the tree was showing its age. It didn’t matter. This was the last place anyone would look for me, which allowed me to be alone. Curling my knees up and hugging them close, I was unprepared for Colby’s voice, which startled me out of my silent misery.
“Hey, you.” He flashed his infamous PDG while he ascended the last step of the ladder. PDG was short for panty dropping grin and, good Lord, did he have one. Yes, indeed, when Colby Singer flashed his sexy smile, I swear every woman within a twenty-foot radius was ready to drop her panties.
I certainly wasn’t immune to his panty-melting charm. But, at the moment I was busy biting my lip to keep from crying. “Hey.”
His grin slipped into a concerned expression. “You going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Bet Me Something (Something Series Book 3) Page 1