Her Cherry

by Bloom, Penelope

  “Yeah, yeah. Pretty sure I can figure it out.”

  “Oh, and try to get people to fill out email cards if you can. If we get their emails, we can send them a coupon and hopefully get them to come back after all this.”

  He gave me a disgusted look. “Nobody likes giving their emails at the register.”

  “Just pretend you’re stealing it.”

  “Hm. Fair enough.”

  He walked off and leaned on the counter beside Ryan for about fifteen seconds before sending Ryan to help me. I kept thinking I’d hear some sort of commotion or trouble from the front, but all I saw was William schmoozing customers like he was some kind of customer service prodigy. He had everyone smiling, laughing, and batting their eyelashes at him, everyone from old men to young girls. If I wasn’t dripping sweat and feeling like I was thirty minutes from running out of stock on everything and having to close, I might’ve spared a thought to be jealous. Instead, I was just grateful that he was managing to be useful.

  As it turned out, our supplies lasted another hour. There was a never-ending line of customers, even after we put up a sign on the door apologizing and promising we’d be stocked up again tomorrow.

  When I finally locked the door, I felt like I'd just been through a war zone.

  “Well, Galleon Enterprises gets an A plus from me when it comes to marketing. Holy crap,” I said.

  William took a little bow. “Glad it worked.”

  Candace dusted her hands off. “That was fun. Maybe I should quit my job at Business Insights and come work for you. Who knows, I could be running the place in a few years.”

  I gave her a confused look. “Unless you’re planning on a hostile takeover, that’s not likely.”

  She shrugged. “Watch your back. Caesar never expected Brutus, did he?”

  "Et Tu, Candace?" I asked. "You'd need Ryan to overthrow me, and he's too loyal. I'm not scared."

  Ryan crossed his arms. “Scout’s honor and all that. Sorry Candace.”

  “You were a boy scout?” William asked. I could see he was barely holding back laughter.

  Ryan threw his hands up. “What is it with everyone and thinking you have to be a boy scout to say scout’s honor?”

  William stood with a sigh. "Well, kids. As fun as this has been, my brother must've called me fifteen times by now. He usually stops at fourteen if it's not important, so, I'd better head out and go to work on phase two of my marketing plan for The Bubbly Baker."

  “No!” Ryan and I shouted at the same time.

  “I was just fucking with you. I’ll see you tonight, though, Cherry. Wear what you wore last night.” He kissed his fingertips in a poor impression of an Italian. “Magnifico. Really. Oh, and I put the email cards on the right side of your register. Phone numbers are on the left.”

  “I didn’t tell you to ask for phone numbers.”

  “I didn’t ask for them. Oh, and we’re not doing the dinner thing at my place. It’s going to be a date, instead.”

  “William,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m flattered, really, but let’s just stick to the plan, okay?”

  He thought that over for a second, then nodded. “Sure. Stick to the plan it is. See you tonight.”

  I watched him go, wondering at why he had let it pass so easily. I also wondered why I was still fighting it. I guess part of me worried about starting any kind of relationship while my life was on the verge of collapsing financially. Even so, I wasn’t sure how long that would actually stop me from letting William push things further.

  I walked out of the bank with an empty feeling in my stomach. I’d been holding onto a glimmer of hope that they would approve me despite my credit, but of course, my loan request was denied. They didn’t even go through the pretense of acting like they needed to check the paperwork for a few hours and get back to me. The woman had flashed me a strained smile when she pulled up my record, spoken with her manager, and then promptly informed me that I wouldn’t be getting the loan. Simple as that.

  I stepped outside into the already darkening night. I had about an hour before I needed to be at William’s, and I was hoping I had time to steal a quick shower. I nearly bumped into a man just outside the bank. Bumping into someone on the street in New York City was hardly an event, so I apologized and tried to walk on.

  The man gripped my arm and turned me around.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “Long day, I didn’t mean to—”

  “You’re the one who has been sniffing around William Chamberson’s wallet. The one who owns a bakery,” the man sneered. He managed to inject about as much disapproval into the word “bakery” as was humanly possible. He looked to be about fifty, with an air of self-importance and snappy clothes. The woman behind him wore a designer dress, an expensive necklace, and a few pounds of makeup. I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive I’d never met either of them.

  “I’m not sniffing around anyone. And yes. I do own the bakery. A fact I’m proud of, actually. So if you don’t mind—”

  “We do mind.” The man sidestepped to stop me from walking past him.

  I was in the middle of the street in New York City with hundreds of people passing by every second, but I still felt threatened. I never forgot the story of the woman who had been stabbed in broad daylight right in front of a huge apartment complex. We learned about it in psychology class back in high school when our teacher wanted to teach us about the bystander effect. Something like fourteen people saw the stabbing and saw the woman lying on the street, bleeding out for hours, and not a single one of them called the police. Nobody called because everyone assumed someone else already had. The woman eventually died because her attacker came back to kill her three hours later. So yeah, I’d never quite felt safe in crowded places after that. Apparently human nature was to just assume somebody else would help. Actually, in today’s world, people would probably just whip out their cell phones and film it.

  “I have mace in my purse,” I said. It was true. I’d made sure I always had it once Nathan showed me what a creep he could be.

  “Congratulations,” the man said. “But I’m not here to assault you. I just need to be certain you get my message, loud and clear.”

  “And what message is that?”

  “To stay away from Mr. Chamberson. It would be mutually beneficial for everyone involved if you did.”

  I crossed my arms. I realized something then when I saw a flicker of familiarity in his face. “Mr. Chamberson? You’re talking about your son, aren’t you? You have his eyes.”

  The man shifted, uncomfortable for the first time. The woman tugged at his arm like she wanted them to retreat now that they had been recognized, but he yanked away from her touch. “I am. And you’re not good enough for my son. Plain and simple.”

  I clenched my teeth, wondering how good it would feel to slap his stupid face. “I must’ve missed the part where you knew me well enough to say something like that. And what, did you seriously just wait outside until I would leave work and follow me here? Maybe I should call the cops and tell them you’re stalking me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. We happened to be passing by. Simple coincidence, which there’s no law against. Besides, there’s nothing we need to know about you. Our son has already found a woman who fits him perfectly. He doesn’t need some hussie like you trying to steal him away from her.”

  I felt my mouth hanging open. I honestly couldn’t believe this conversation was happening. “As tempting as it is to sit here and have this pointless argument with you, I’m leaving. And you know what? I’m going to William’s apartment in less than an hour. We’re both going to enjoy ourselves, and there’s not a thing you can do about it. Have a great night.”

  I had taken two steps away from them when I heard Mr. Chamberson raise his voice over the hum of traffic. “I wonder what William will think of your financial troubles, then.”

  “What?” I asked, spinning. “If that is your attempt at blackmail, it’s a sad one. I’ve never—
" I was about to say never even thought about how William's money could solve my problems, but that wasn't exactly true. I wasn't blind to it. But I also didn't want a handout or an easy road. I wanted to find my own success in the world, and getting a check from William wouldn't have given me that. Even accepting his marketing offer had been stretching my principals, but I had to do something, and that was the one exception I’d been willing to make. “I’ve never asked William for money, nor do I plan to.”

  “Of course not. You’re too sly for that. You’ll wait until he’s more invested in you, won’t you? Maybe once talk about an engagement starts. I bet you’ll try to tell him he doesn’t need a prenup, too?”

  I shook my head. “Let me guess, William has no idea you two are out here having this conversation with me?”

  “It’s not important what William knows. We’re his parents, and we want what’s best for him. We know what’s best for him. And it’s not you. You are in over your head, little girl. Fuck with our son, and we’ll fuck with you. Simple as that.”

  He turned on his heel and strolled off, his wife trailing behind him.

  8

  William

  I dusted my hands and looked at the monstrosity I’d created for Gremlin in the middle of my apartment. It was basically a tower made of cardboard boxes, which I’d cut up to allow her to scamper from room to room. I used the scraps to build ramps so she could get up to the higher floors if she wanted, then I taped the whole thing together. It was a marvel of human engineering, and the little asshole was refusing to go inside.

  “Just try it,” I said.

  She sat on top of the couch with the pink bow in her hair the groomer had put there and looked at me like I was an idiot.

  I got on my hands and knees and stuck my head inside one of the openings. “See? You crawl in here, then you can go all the way to the top. It’ll be badass. Trust me.”

  Gremlin rested her head between her paws, still watching me, but not moving.

  I sighed. “Fine. I’ll just go buy a cat later. Maybe then you’ll wish you had been more cooperative, won’t you?”

  As usual, Gremlin didn't respond, so I walked off to check my phone. I realized I hadn't even given Hailey my personal number yet, but I kinda liked it that way. It was like an old-school romance. I had to actually show up at her shop to talk to her, which I enjoyed having an excuse to do. The only text I had was from Zoey Parker. I suppressed a groan of annoyance.

  Zoey (6:24 P.M): We should really talk. I found some things out about your little girlfriend you might want to know. Already passed it on to your parents. Trust me, she’s not who you think she is.

  I set the phone down, shaking my head. It was sad, really. Zoey had seemed okay at first, but it wasn’t long before I saw the crazy in her. She’d memorize the smallest details in conversation and know things I’d never even told her about myself—presumably from stalking me on social media or articles written about me. She felt more like a fan than a girlfriend, and she was the last woman I’d thought of as a girlfriend. After her, I moved to the zero commitment way of life, and hadn’t looked back. At least until I met my baker girl.

  Hailey showed up to my apartment right on time. She looked pissed off, and it was kind of a good look on her. Then again, I imagined just about anything would look good on her. Pissed off, happy, me…

  “Oh good,” I said. “You showered.”

  She reeled back a little. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m taking you to a party, and you’re playing the role of arm candy.”

  “Uhh, last time I remember, I told you we should keep it professional.”

  “We will. You’ll be professional arm candy. Only the finest. And I’ll only make a move if you give me the eyes.”

  Some of the anger drained from her face as she gave me half a smile. “Does being blindly persistent always work for you?”

  “Depends. Is that a yes?”

  She sighed. “Yes. Today was kind of a crazy day, and a party might actually be fun. Except I’m not exactly dressed for a party.”

  Gremlin perked her head up at the sound of Hailey’s voice. She was sitting on the couch, curled up on a blanket. I’d never admit it, but I was already bonding with the dog. We watched a rerun of Seinfeld together last night while I rubbed her belly.

  “I took care of the dress part.”

  She crossed her arms and eyed me, almost suspiciously. It looked like she was about to say something, but she licked her lips and shook her head. “Should I be scared?”

  “Only if you have a fear of looking like a sex goddess on steroids.” I left her standing by the elevator while I grabbed the box. I gave my personal assistant instructions a little over an hour ago to pick out the sluttiest and most expensive dress she could find, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on Hailey’s face.

  I opened the box and lifted it up by the shoulders. It was a loosely woven web of silky, cream-colored fabric with small diamonds at all the cross-sections. I tried so hard not to laugh as Hailey took it in with wide, panic-stricken eyes.

  “I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, but—”

  “I’m fucking with you,” I laughed. “I mean, obviously you’re going to put this dress on for me eventually, but we can worry about that later. The real dress for tonight's this way.”

  “What in God’s name is that?” she asked when she saw what I’d built Gremlin.

  “That would be the dog tower I lovingly built for my ungrateful pet.”

  “Dogs don’t use towers… You’re thinking of cats.”

  “Or maybe people just don’t build dogs towers and give them opportunities to have a little fun?”

  “Yeah,” laughed Hailey. “That must be it.”

  I gave Hailey my hand to help her out of the limo, but that was where my gentlemanly manner ended. My eyes drank in the bit of cleavage I could see and the smooth skin of her legs as she slid out of the car and stood beside me.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she gasped.

  “What, do you get seasick?”

  “No… I just thought parties on boats was something they made up for movies.”

  I grinned. “Rich people spend a lot of time and money thinking of dumb shit they can do, especially if it makes everyone else think they’re special.”

  “You say that like you’re not a ‘rich people.’”

  I shrugged. I slid my hand around her side and started leading her down the dock, where a few other well-dressed couples were trickling toward the biggest yacht in the harbor. “I wasn’t always rich. That puts me in a different category, as far as most rich people are concerned.”

  “What, like old money and new money?”

  “Yep. I had to get my hands dirty and work my way to a fortune, so I’m not part of their imaginary noble line.”

  “Don’t take offense to this, but I actually have a tough time picturing you working hard.”

  I laughed. “No offense taken. Believe it or not, I busted my ass just as much as my brother when we were coming up. Lately, I feel more like a caged lion. There’s no thrill in the chase anymore. Bruce is wired differently. He never cared about the chase or the thrill. He just enjoys the process. The details.”

  “Is that how Natasha is?”

  “Hah. No, not at all. Natasha is exactly what he needed, though. She draws chaos like a magnet. She has actually helped make Bruce more bearable, so she gets my vote of approval.”

  “And is that a Chamberson brotherly trait? Seeking out women who are their polar opposites?”

  “Hm… I don’t know if we’re polar opposites or not. I guess I’ll have to quiz you.”

  She smirked. “Quiz me?”

  We reached a long walkway that led up to the yacht, and Hailey clung a little closer to me once we passed over the water and started heading for the boat.

  “Let’s see,” I said, tapping my chin. “Do you think anybody actually believes q-tips are being purchased for something othe
r than cleaning your ears?”

  “What?”

  “Look at the box one day. They specifically tell you not to clean your ears with a q-tip. They are supposedly just for cleaning keyboards, removing makeup, or rubbing on baby faces—still haven’t figured that one out.”

  “I guess I’m a rebel then. I clean my ears with q-tips. And I like it.”

  She gave me a rebellious flicker of her eyes, and it might’ve been the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I cleared my throat, stashed that image in my brain, and nodded to the security guard who waved us inside the boat.

  The interior of the yacht was like a cruise ship on steroids. The walls were polished wood. The floors were marble. Men and women in tuxedos and dresses circulated with trays of free food and drinks, and there were easily hundreds of guests just where we could see in the lobby area. Two sets of stairs spiraled off toward the upper decks, which were a labyrinth of rooms, lounge spots, bars, a bowling alley, an indoor pool, and of course there was the upper deck pool.

  “Wow,” she said. “Is this yours?”

  “Nah. I’ve bought some dumb stuff, but never a yacht. The guy who owns it is a real-estate mogul. Owns an NFL team, that kind of thing.” I guided her off to the side of the room where we wouldn’t keep having to move out of the way of newly arriving guests.

  “And you’re friends?”

  "Well, strictly speaking, no. I'm actually only here because the security can't tell the difference between my brother and me."

  “Wait, what? We weren’t invited?”

  “Easy. It’s all good. Bruce and Natasha might have a little trouble getting here when they arrive, but it’s not like it’s some kind of blood feud. He didn’t say I couldn’t come. He just didn’t go out of his way to ask me to come. There’s a big difference.”

  She slid away from my arm, which I had been enjoying having around her back, and glared up at me like an adorable, angry little gnat. “What did you do to him?”