Layers Off (Layers Trilogy)

by Silks, Lacey

  Relying on something to take the edge off, I took a sip from a flute of champagne, hoping no one would notice, just as they hadn’t noticed the other two. The only thing that could take my dreaded past away was a sip or two. The great thing about mingling in groups this big was that they didn’t notice when I helped to ease my anxiety.

  “Thanks, Dad. We promise not to disappoint you and to grow the business the way you taught us.” Julian stood with his head held high, lifting his flute of champagne to toast. At twenty-one, while he could be partying with his friends, Julian always chose family and work. Standing beside each other in their custom-made silver suits, Julian’s a few shades darker than Tristan’s, they both looked like they were ready to pose for an elaborate spread in GQ magazine. I could never get enough of looking at the Cross brothers. My gaze drank in their broad shoulders and bulked leg muscles underneath the seamless suits. And when they turned around, I’d get a dose of tight behinds I could bounce coins off.

  “Don’t make it sound like I’m planning to move to Florida to join the Snowbirds, son. I’ll be here every day.” Mr. Cross laughed with that deep joyous passion he always had. If Mr. Cross had a belly, I imagined it would shake like Santa’s, but he was just as fit as his two sons. I’d heard he wanted Julian and Tristan to travel more, to forge relationships with other companies. With Tristan receiving his degree next year, Mr. Cross filled up his son’s schedules to the max.

  I stood by the windows. Sunset began to glisten over Hudson River, reflecting not only in the water but also off every window in Manhattan. It was like magic. Up here, looking over the city that never slept, the peace I saw out there seemed almost unnatural.

  A vibrant laugh drew my attention toward the center of the room.

  Emma, the youngest sibling, sat in Mr. Cross’s leather chair. The seven-year-old pushed off with her feet and swung around, over and over again. I finished my glass and set it aside, and then strolled to the desk and halted her spins.

  “Emma, you’re going to throw up.”

  “I don’t care,” she pouted, her lower lip pushing out and forward.

  “What’s the matter?” I crouched down beside her.

  “They get everything. All I want is a poodle, and they get to go undercover and do investigations. I don’t want a business, just a tiny little poodle.” She cupped her hands together, looking at them mesmerised as if the puppy was already there. “Is that too much to ask?”

  On the inside I tickled with laughter at how Emma looked behind Mr. Cross’s desk. It nearly swallowed her whole. Yet despite her reluctance now, I wouldn’t doubt if one day she was the one running Cross Enterprises.

  “It’s not too much, Emma. I would die to have a puppy too, any kind of a puppy.”

  “Then why don’t you buy one? You don’t have parents who can stop you...”

  Emma bit her lip.

  “It’s all right, honey. No, I don’t have parents to stop me from buying one, but I’d rather have a mom and a dad like you do than a puppy. Do you really want to pick up poop after a dog?”

  She giggled when I said poop.

  “I think I can get Julian and Tristan to do it for me.”

  I bet she could too. She had her brothers wrapped around her little finger.

  “Just remember, it’s a big responsibility.”

  “I’m responsible. I can get dressed by myself, tie my shoes, and unload the dishwasher. Ask my mama.” Then she leaned in closer. “I can even get past a cell phone password!”

  I wondered whether the brothers knew they were creating a future hacker.

  “I know you’re responsible. And one day, when you do get a puppy, I hope you’ll let me pet him or her a little bit.”

  “Of course I would. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Emma.” I hugged her.

  A low bark came from the front door, and everyone quieted. Emma shot off the chair and froze.

  “What was that?!” Her head whipped from her father, to her mother, and to each of her brothers.

  They all shrugged with a grin. Another bark sounded.

  Emma rushed between the crowd toward the front of the room, pushing everyone out of the way. And of course they parted for her, her puffy pink dress barely squishing through.

  “Emma!” Mrs. Cross tried to stop her, probably to calm her down, but it was too late. Emma was already standing in front of a box with a red bow on top, suitable for the unveiling of at least a car. Her name was spelled out in red letters on the front flap.

  She knocked on the box as if it was a front door, and the barking became constant, along with audible scratches against the decorative cardboard.

  “Get them out! Get them out for me. Julian! Tristan! I have puppies!” she squealed.

  The brothers rushed to her side and removed two Rottweiler puppies from the box. They each had a red bow tie on their neck, which shimmered over their velvety black coat.

  “Are they mine? Are they really mine?” She carried them both under her arms.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Cross laughed. “And I hope you’re ready to take them home, because it’s getting late.”

  “They’re not poodles, but I’m gonna love Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm.”

  I saw Mr. Cross squeeze his wife’s hand at the comment.

  “I think she likes them.” Tristan came to my side. I half expected him to wrap his arm around my waist, the way he had always done, but he didn’t. Was it because we were at his place of work? Were too many people looking?

  I watched Emma sit on the floor and burrow her face between the two dogs so they could lick it. She giggled and laughed. This was one of the happiest days I’d ever seen her.

  “Do you have a minute, K?”

  A shiver passed over my spine. “Sure,” I responded. “What’s up?”

  “In private.”

  I followed Tristan to a conference room beside his father’s office. He closed the door behind us, tucked his hands inside his pockets, and stepped from one foot to another before he asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” I half giggled, feeling a mellow sensation start to climb up my legs. “I had some champagne, sorry.”

  “K, this is my father’s business. You can’t sneak alcohol in.”

  “I didn’t sneak it in. It was on the table. Chill, T.”

  I felt a slight sway underneath me as I tried to sit down, and instead leaned against the conference table. Okay, so perhaps I’d had one sip too many.

  “Just like at the last party, where I saw you drink from a glass? What’s going on with you, K? You’re still underage.”

  For a moment, I wanted to tell him about my nightmares, what had happened at my previous school, the blood I’d dreamt of, and how much I missed my parents… but I didn’t.

  “So are you.”

  “I have only a few months to go, and I’m not drinking.”

  “Neither am I.” I burst out laughing. Thank goodness he didn’t know about the puff of weed I’d taken in the bathroom. I managed to keep my side business a secret since I’d switched schools. Now that my parents were gone, it was the only way I could hope to finance my future plans.

  “K, I’m trying to be serious, please.” Tristan grasped my upper arm and guided me to sit down. “This job is very important and very demanding. I don’t have time to fool around anymore.”

  My laugh was cut short. Tristan’s tone had changed. Not only was he distant, but in those few words I heard very clearly what he implied.

  “What are you saying?” I asked. I didn’t want to ask, as I was afraid I knew what was coming, but it slipped out on its own. Tristan had been distant the past few months. He’d been watching me too. Slipping outside for a puff was becoming more difficult, but how else did you relax? After the train accident, I’d been given a whole new identity and too many hours in a psychiatrist’s office.

  “Maybe we should take a break.” He turned away. Didn’t he even have the decency to look at me?

  “Tristan, I’m
sorry. It just hasn’t been easy.”

  “It’s never easy. Kendra, I’ll always be your friend, but I think it’s for the best if we give each other some space.”

  I don’t.

  But I couldn’t get the words out. Part of me wanted to yell after him as he strolled out the door. Another part didn’t. Deep down I knew Tristan had been right about the decision for us to break up, but it would take me another two years of an unhealthy relationship to realize that. It would take fights, restless nights, distant memories, and a knife for us to finally part ways.

  Julian’s house – present day

  “Hhm, are you talking about the evening my father transferred the business to me and Tristan?” A hint of anticipation trailed on Julian’s voice, as if he wanted to say more, but wasn’t too sure where to begin.

  It had cooled in the sunroom, and Julian flicked a switch on his remote to turn on the fireplace.

  I bit my lip and wiggled in my seat, feeling a rush of hormones from six years past hit me as my heart got stuck for a moment. “Yeah, that night.”

  Julian had certainly had a lot to drink at the party. I remembered watching him walk past the conference room in which Tristan had left me, with his head low and hands stuck in his pockets. I couldn’t understand why his mood had shifted from proud and excited ten minutes earlier when he saluted his father to downright desperate and confused. I shot off my chair and followed Julian into an office.

  “Ahh, yes, that was a special night, wasn’t it?” He said, interrupting my thoughts.

  Did he remember?

  “You know, I had a feeling my father wanted to start his retirement early.”

  No, he didn’t. We both knew his father’s intention wasn’t expected. The brothers had always thought they still had a few years to go before being thrown in feet first.

  “But the best surprise was after the announcement, in my office.” Julian’s low raspy tone quivered inside me. Air deflated from my lungs and I found it difficult to breathe, afraid that if I inhaled that I’d interrupt what he was about to say.

  “You looked miserable,” he whispered.

  I felt his gaze on the side of my face but couldn’t turn to face him.

  “I was, until I saw you.”

  My mouth just dropped open as the memories of that night flooded me all at once. My breasts swelled and my nipples tensed, as if they too wanted to remember what had happened between us. Julian sat beside me, warily staring, as if drinking in my reaction.

  “What if I told you I remembered everything that happened between us?” he finally said.

  He couldn’t! Could he?

  CHAPTER 7

  Cross Enterprises Headquarters, Manhattan – Six years earlier

  We sat on his brand new couch, watching the night fall. It was a while before I asked him what was wrong. Julian’s reply was so simple that I should have seen this coming for months.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, K. I mean, this is big. It’s a huge business and an important one, with lives at stake.”

  Yes, that was quite a bit of pressure on a twenty-one-year-old who was still planning to get his Masters degree.

  “Julian, if there’s anyone who can do it, you can,” I tried to convince him, knowing how weak the words of a seventeen-year-old must have sounded to him. I turned to him, saying, “You’re like the smartest guy I know.”

  He acknowledged me with a lopsided smile and fixed his gaze on me. For a moment I thought his sight lowered to my cleavage. My breasts had finally filled out and I felt myself take a deeper breath, pushing the twins up higher.

  “Thanks, K. And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

  The way he looked at me that moment, I felt like the world ceased to exist. I scooted my knees under my butt and turned to face him. Julian was so close, and he looked so damn sexy in that suit, I found it difficult to concentrate. The alcohol in my veins didn’t help either. But he needed me now, and as a friend, I couldn’t just leave him here on his own to ponder.

  “You need to relax, Julian. You’ve been working and studying so much. Boxing isn’t nearly enough to let go of the stress,” I said, my voice shaky and my heart pumping as if I were in the middle of a flood, about to drown.

  And instead of acknowledging his inner conflicts, Julian focused on me once again, turning my way. His arm rested on the back of the couch, supporting his head. At that moment, I knew this beautiful man beside me chose to see me for who I was.

  “What happened to you? Your eyes are sad.” He drew his finger along my eyebrow. The touch seared through me like a drug-filled bullet, exploding deep in my belly.

  How in the world could he tell? Here I was trying to lift his mood, but Julian still managed to see through me.

  “I think Tristan just broke up with me. I feel like such a fool, ya know?”

  “Really?” His brows rose. Julian reached to the side table and poured himself a scotch. That was such a manly thing to do. I mean, I didn’t know too many men his age that enjoyed the taste of an expensive alcohol. Most of them drank beer or straight-up shots. But when Julian took a sip, I could tell it was for the taste of it. The smell of his yummy breath hit me when he spoke. “When did this happen?”

  Why did he sound so excited about my news? This was devastating, yet it didn’t feel like it sitting here beside the older brother.

  “Just now. He thinks I’m drinking too much, and he needs to concentrate on a job. I don’t think I’m good enough. I want to be. I’d love to show him my plans for the club.” I wanted so badly to show someone, anyone, that I could survive – that I too could make something of myself.

  “Club?”

  I didn’t think Julian would listen, but he did. The conversations I had with Tristan, when serious, always revolved around Tristan’s work, which I didn’t mind. I’d learned so much from him. But it was nice to share my hopes and dreams with someone as well-educated as Julian, and to know he was actually listening.

  “Yeah, I want to open a club. Not now. After I finish college.”

  “Not a bakery or a restaurant?” he teased.

  “Please,” I rolled my eyes. “I know how to work and have fun.” I reached for the glass in his hand and took a sip. He didn’t pull back; instead, one of his eyebrows rose higher, intrigued.

  “I always knew you had a little bad streak in you, K.” His tone had changed to a raspy one. It did something funny to my body, and I squeezed my knees together. Feeling a swell of bravery, I slid my hand up along his bulky arm, wishing he could remove that suit so that I could feel the size of his arms in my hands.

  “What do you mean, bad?” I coerced.

  “I mean, you don’t take bullshit. You say what you mean, and you’re so strong.”

  Strong?

  “I don’t know many women who could go through what you have been through and adapt so well.”

  He really thought of me as a woman? Not a girl?

  I felt my breasts tighten at the thought, and I reached for his glass again. He handed it to me without hesitation and I took another swig. The scotch burned in my throat, but feeling it flow through me was liberating.

  “You’re trouble, K.” He took hold of the glass, grasping my hand around it and sipped with my hand underneath his, then let it go. I half expected him to take the drink away from me, but he didn’t, and I found that enthralling. Since the day I’d met him, I’d always known Julian had a streak of danger and excitement in him, yet I’d never seen him act on it. He controlled who he appeared to be in front of others, but he couldn’t hide it from me. Julian was locked inside that suit, and I wanted nothing more than to free him. Had he ever felt what true freedom was like? Without worries or responsibilities – like riding a bike downhill as a kid, pushing through the wind.

  “But you like trouble, don’t you?” I felt something funny brew inside me as I stood up and leaned in to help Julian remove his jacket.

  The surprise beamed from his eyes, but he didn’t re
sist.

  “More than you know.” There was that rusty sound from his throat again. He lowered the jacket to the side of the couch and loosened his tie.

  I sat back down beside him, a little bit closer, and took another sip. The alcohol cruised through my veins as if the sails of its boat were fully open.

  “So, if I showed you this” – I pulled out a joint from my purse – “would you freak out?”

  He regarded me for a moment and I wondered whether he’d take it away from me.

  “It helps me forget some stuff.” I shrugged. “Maybe it could help you?”

  “What stuff do you need to forget about?”

  “It’s dreams mostly. You know, the past. But I think it could help you relax a little,” I said.

  “There’s only one thing that could relax me now, K.”

  Julian’s voice was different, now. It held hunger and despair. I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but I didn’t get a chance. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, which really distracted me. The patches of darker curls on his taut skin captivated me. Julian reached for the weed, grinning from the side. “You got a lighter?”

  Julian’s house – present day

  There was no way Julian remembered everything from that night, was there? We were both so high – him forgetting about his new responsibilities, and me finally enjoying the company of a man I’d felt I belonged with since the beginning. He listened to everything I told him, he shared my excitement for my vision for Kissed, and then, for hours, we got lost in each other.

  I finally found the courage to ask him, turning to face him. “What exactly did you remember?”

  Flurries of snow danced to the wind outside. The fireplace flickered and my heart pounded like it had just gotten a shot of adrenaline through a needle jabbed right in my chest.