by J. A. Little
“I saw. I’m glad you survived.” He looks past me and groans. “What?” I turn, following his gaze to see his father coming right for us.
“Kayla, it’s wonderful to see you again,” he says, kissing my cheek.
“Thank you, Mr. Wyatt,” I reply softly. The man intimidates me. He has a presence about him that demands respect.
“It’s Joe, please. You make me feel old, calling me Mr. Wyatt.”
“I used to call Dean ’Mr. Wyatt,’“ I laugh.
He chuckles, his eyes flickering over to his son. “Dean.”
“Dad.”
“Your mother’s been looking for you.”
“Imagine that.”
Joe frowns, but is distracted when his wife comes up behind him.
“Kayla, you look lovely,” Maria greets, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. “It’s about time my son found himself a proper date.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dean’s jaw tighten. I squeeze his hand firmly and feel him squeeze back.
“Well, you know me, Mom. I’m all about being proper.”
She sighs and turns her attention back to me. “Are you having a good time?”
“I am. I’m a little bit out of my league, though, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, hush. You’re doing just fine. I know my children don’t enjoy these events as much as I do.” She raises her glass of wine and takes a sip. “However, they are the faces of Wyatt House now and, as such, must occasionally sacrifice their time to appease the financiers.”
I nod. I don’t know a lot about business, but I understand people wanting to see what happens with their money. I can feel Dean growing increasingly irritated beside me and decide to divert.
“Well, he’s been a perfect gentleman and an exceptional escort, so I can’t complain,” I say. Maria smiles at me. I look toward the door and see my opportunity. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I see Jose De Jesus over there and I’d like to ask him a question.”
“By all means,” Joe nods. “Dean, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with you for a minute.”
I hesitate. I was trying to rescue him, and now it looks like I’m abandoning him.
“I’ll come find you,” he says, looking me in the eyes before letting go of my hand.
“Okay.” I glance back once to see Joe standing with his hand on Dean’s shoulder. I still don’t know what to make of Dean’s parents. I know he’s had issues with them in the past, but I can’t criticize. My family’s completely dysfunctional.
While my intention was to ask Jose about Warren, I don’t actually need to because the man himself is standing out in the foyer, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around a glass of what appears to be scotch.
“Wow, War,” I whistle. “You are smokin’.”
His eyes light up when he sees me. “I know. Giorgio Armani is a fucking genius. But you, Kay. You are the most gorgeous creature in this room.” He lifts my chin and kisses me gently on the lips.
“Don’t let your date hear you say that,” I warn. “Your ego may not get stroked tonight.” Warren laughs loudly. “Where is she anyway?”
“Powder room. She has got tetas y un culo like you wouldn’t believe. I couldn’t keep my hands off them.”
“Which would be why you’re just getting here now even though you left about an hour and a half before me?”
“Mmmm. Mami is really good at stroking my ego.” Warren waggles his eyebrows.
“Jesus, Warren,” I laugh, shaking my head.
I see a woman walking toward us, and all I can think is kapow! She has to be almost six feet tall and is wearing four-inch heels, making her about three inches taller than Warren. He wasn’t kidding—her breasts and her booty are…wow. She has long raven hair, big brown eyes with eyelashes that must be fake, and lips that look like they’ve been sucking on—oh.
“Julieta, this is my best friend, Kayla.”
“Olá,” she greets, reaching out a slender arm. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I smile at her heavy accent. She says something to Warren and he answers. It sounds a little like Spanish, but I know it’s not.
“What was that?”
“Portuguese. She asked if I’ve ever slept with you.”
“Oh. And what did you tell her?”
“I told her yes.”
I lift my eyebrows and Warren laughs. “What? I’ve slept with you plenty of times.” After a few seconds of my silence he shakes his head. “I told her you were saving yourself for that lovely piece of man walking this way.”
I turn around quickly to see Dean striding confidently toward us.
“Hi,” he says, his hand finding a place on my hip.
“Hi. Look who I found.”
Dean nods. “You must be Warren.”
“I must be,” Warren says smoothly.
Dean reaches out a hand and Warren grips it tightly. “It’s nice to meet you officially.”
“Yes, it is.” Warren smirks. “This is Julieta. Julieta, Dean Wyatt.”
Julieta says something else. All I understand is “Wyatt.” Warren nods at her. Julieta greets Dean in a similar way as she did me, although this time more sexually. I raise my eyebrows, but I’m not threatened. Dean’s polite, but he doesn’t return the vibe.
“I think I owe you a drink,” Dean says to Warren. He doesn’t seem bothered at all that Warren is totally checking him out.
“Not that I’m complaining, but for what?”
Dean doesn’t answer, but he must make a gesture behind my back, because Warren responds. “Sí. My pleasure. Another time, though, yes? My father appears to be requesting our presence.”
I see Warren’s dad and mom across the room and wave. His mom kisses her hand and waves back.
“Give them my love. I’ll stop by and see them later.”
“Of course, mi amor. For my sake, don’t be good tonight,” he says quietly in my ear. I swat him as he walks away laughing.
“Wow,” Dean gapes, watching them go. Julieta’s culo is swaying from side to side like a metronome. It’s kind of hypnotic.
“Yeah.”
“Those shoes are hot,” he deadpans.
“Shut up!” I squeal, slapping him so hard on the chest that he has to grab onto me to keep from falling backward. There’s no way he was looking at her feet. Although…he does seem to have a thing for shoes.
“Come on,” he laughs. “Emily’s by the bar. I’ll take you to her. Aiden and I have something to do.”
Dean escorts me to the other side of the foyer and points out his sister-in-law.
“Oh my God, Emily. I’m so happy to see you,” I say, leaning into her shoulder.
“I saw you with the in-laws and considered rescuing you, but I was afraid Maria would rope me into something.”
I laugh. “She was fine. They both were very nice.”
“Good. I was just kidding. I figured they would be. They like you. You’re okay, though, right?” she asks, getting serious for a minute.
I nod. “Yeah. I don’t know about Dean, though.”
“He’ll be fine. These things put him on guard. There are people here that don’t like the position he holds.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re idiots. They can do no wrong, but God forbid anyone else makes a mistake. Maria tries to pretend nothing happened. She wants Dean to behave like one of these muppets—prancing around and yapping happily about money and success. You’d think after almost fourteen years, she’d get over it and accept that he’s never going to be what she considers normal.”
I look around, needing to change the subject. I don’t know Joe and Maria well enough to comment. I don’t know what it’s like to be a parent, much less a parent who’s been through what they have.
“This is really amazing.”
Emily goes with the flow. “Yeah, you should see the Christmas ball, though. It’s held at the country estate that belonged to Joe’s parents. It’s technically Joe’s now, but we all use it as a vacation ho
me and holiday retreat. Granddad Wyatt still lives there, too, but he doesn’t socialize much since the Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Maria has it decorated to the nines. That event’s not too bad.”
I hum and nod my head. Emily continues.
“Honestly, though, the best part about these things is that Aiden and I get to stay in a swanky hotel or guest room, make love all night long, and sleep naked without having to worry about the kids walking in on us.”
I laugh at her candidness, but I’m curious about the “not too bad” comment. “Why don’t you like the events?” I ask curiously.
“It’s not that I don’t like them. It’s really nice to step out every once in awhile and just be with my husband, but we are not like these people. The majority of them aren’t here out of the kindness of their hearts. They’re here because it’s a tax deduction, and it looks good on their social resume.” Emily takes a huge gulp of her wine. “Don’t get me wrong, there are a few generous people here who would donate with or without this spectacle, but the majority of them just like to dress up and look fancy.” Emily has always been open with me, but she is entirely uncensored at the moment. It’s funny. “Like that one over there,” she says pointing at a redhead across the room. “That is Madison Badeau. She is wife number six to Mr. Raphael Badeau, the old coot she’s hanging on to. He’s seventy-three. She’s twenty-eight. That dress she’s wearing cost about seven grand. The shoes? Another two grand. She’s probably got over one hundred thousand dollars worth of jewels dripping down her fake tits. It’s ridiculous.”
My amazement at the cost is outweighed by only one thing.
“Gross. He’s forty-five years older than her. You think she has sex with him?”
Emily laughs loudly, nearly spitting out her wine. “It’s men like him who fund Viagra research, Kayla. Of course she’s doing him.”
I know the look on my face can’t be pretty. I’m thoroughly disgusted.
“Do I even want to know what my wife said to make you look like that?” Aiden asks as he approaches with Dean.
“Madison Badeau,” Emily says innocently. Dean groans. Emily and Aiden laugh.
“What?” I ask, confused by their reaction.
“Mrs. Badeau has been known to proposition my brother on more than one occasion.” Aiden grins.
“She grabbed my dick under the table last Christmas.” Dean scowls. “Her husband was a foot away, and she started stroking me like I was a Persian cat.”
Emily catches my eye and winks. “She’s sitting next to you again tonight, sweetie.”
“Who makes these fucking seating charts?” Dean gripes.
It was much funnier when they were speaking in past tense. I’m his date tonight, and I don’t want anyone else touching him.
“Apparently Mrs. Badeau requested to sit with you,” Aiden sighs. “Said she and her husband like to hear the nitty gritty about where their money goes.”
“Their?” Emily scoffs. “What has she done to earn a single—never mind.”
“Why the fuck can’t she sit next to you?” Dean asks.
“Because she knows I’ll rip those silicone implants right out of her chest if she even thinks about touching my husband,” Emily growls.
Aiden laughs and takes the glass of wine from his wife. “Come with me, sugar. I want to show you something. We’ll see you guys at dinner.”
As they walk away, I feel Dean’s hand slip underneath the fabric at the back of my dress, his fingers caressing my hip.
“Kayla?” he whispers, his voice low.
“Hmm?” I ask, my mind going blank from the feel of his breath on my neck.
“What is this?”
“What is w—oh.” My mouth forms a small o at the realization of what he’s talking about.
“Yeah. Oh.”
“Does it show?”
“No, it doesn’t show. I can feel the ink.” Fingertips stroke my skin, and I feel warm lips against the shell of my ear. He’s making me nervous—and excited. My heart is racing, my breathing uncontrolled. I’m about to implode. “All this time and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“You didn’t ask,” I say weakly. His hand trails from my hip up my side, close to my breast.
“Soon you’re going to show me exactly what you’ve been hiding.”
If I’d been questioning where this relationship was going, I’m confident I know now. My whole body is trembling with intense desire. He knows it, too. He keeps pushing the boundaries, skimming areas beneath my dress. He’s seducing me. I’m both thrilled and scared by the idea.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I blurt out, dashing away before I can embarrass myself by launching at him in the middle of the room. Or maybe I embarrassed myself anyway by leaving so abruptly.
After washing my hands and fixing my makeup, I take a deep breath and make my way back to the bar. I halt abruptly when I see Dean being approached by the redhead.
“Hello, handsome,” she says, her voice dripping with lust. Dean startles but plays it off and forces a smile. I step back, hiding behind a fabric barrier covering wires for the audio system. I’m pretty sure they can’t see me, but I can see them and hear every word.
“Hello, Mrs. Badeau. How are you this evening?” he asks in a tight voice. He’s obviously uncomfortable, but either she doesn’t realize, or she doesn’t care.
“Better now that I’m here with you.” She places her perfectly manicured hand on his arm. “And how many times do I have to ask you to call me Madison? We know each other well enough by now.”
I feel tightness in my chest. I’m jealous. I don’t want to be, but I am. Dean glances in my direction, but I can’t tell if he sees me. His attention is drawn back to Madison when she grabs his bowtie, straightening it—even though it was already perfectly straight.
“Raphael has a meeting in New York tomorrow. He’s taking a red-eye, so I’ll be staying in the hotel tonight. Alone.” She bites her lip. Her obvious attempt at being coy makes me want to throw up. “Will you be staying here tonight, too?”
Dean shifts backward. Every muscle in his body is telling this woman he’s not interested, but she’s clueless.
“I suppose that’s up to Kayla, my date.”
“Your date?” she scoffs. “Ah, yes. I’ve heard the talk, but I haven’t seen her yet. She’s a social worker, right?”
Dean nods. “That she is.”
“Oh, that makes more sense. I mean, Wyatt House is a charitable program—might as well extend that to the dregs. I so hope the rest of us don’t make her uncomfortable. She must feel so out of place.”
Did she just call me “the dregs”? I have to bite my thumbnail to keep from running over there and bashing in those perfect porcelain teeth.
“Poor thing,” Madison coos. “Must be an exhausting job, dealing with all those damaged children.”
I’ve had just about enough of her diatribe. I step out from behind the wall. Dean’s eyes find me immediately. He smirks, reaching out a hand. I curl into him as he slips his arm around my waist.
“It’s definitely an exhausting job,” I butt in, “but I love it.”
Madison startles before glaring at me. Dean runs his nose up and down my neck, unnecessarily reassuring me that he had no intention of falling for her bullshit.
“And it’s the parents who are damaged, not the children.”
“I didn’t realize anyone was listening to our private conversation.” Her words hold venom, but she looks a little shaken up now that she’s realized I’m not some frumpy old matron.
“Yes, well, I was searching for my date. Oh, look, I found him.”
Madison lets out a false, nasal laugh. “That is so funny. You must be—”
“Kayla, the social worker,” I affirm.
“Nice.” She wrinkles up her nose as if I’m offending her. She has no idea just how offensive I can be when I really try. “So, how did you two meet?”
“Kayla has a couple of kids placed at Wyatt House,” Dean says openl
y.
“Really?” she sneers. “You guys would make such a lovely couple. It’s a shame that getting into a relationship would be a conflict of interest.” Her eyes dart between us, probably attempting to read our expressions, but I’m an expert at hiding my feelings and I doubt Dean is giving her anything either. “My husband’s been on the Board of Directors for decades. I think he was there even before Joe.” She smirks.
“Decades?” I fake a gasp. “Wow, you look fantastic. I never would have guessed.”
“What?”
Dean’s grip tightens on my waist. He knows I’m about to be a total bitch.
“I just thought—I mean…decades. You don’t look a day over thirty-five.”
Dean coughs. He does a pretty good job of hiding his laugh, but I can hear it. Madison’s jaw drops.
“I—”
“Sweetheart, there you are.” The guy Emily pointed out as Mr. Badeau approaches his still-gaping wife. With stock in Viagra, he’s probably pretty used to seeing her with her mouth wide open like that. “Are you feeling all right? You look a little pale.”
Dean presses his mouth against my head. “You are so bad,” he snickers quietly. I turn my head so that our lips are practically touching.
“I, uh, I’m fine,” Madison Badeau recovers. “You know Dean.” Our attention is drawn back to the odd couple in front of us.
“I do. Young Mr. Wyatt, you look like you’ve been behaving yourself.” I can feel the condescension radiating off the old man.
“I try,” Dean says flatly. “We missed you at the last board meeting.”
“Yes. Madison was celebrating her birthday, and I decided to fly her to Paris for the week as a gift.”
“What a wonderful birthday present.” I smile sweetly. “I was just commenting on how fantastic Mrs. Badeau looks.” I glance at Madison, who’s scowling at me. If she could shoot death rays from her eyeballs, I would be nothing but a pile of ash right now. Mr. Badeau doesn’t seem to notice.
“Darling, this is, uh… I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name,” Madison sneers.
“Mr. Badeau, Kayla Brooks,” Dean introduces. Mr. Badeau takes my hand, kissing it and leering at me like he’s Rico Suave. It’s a little creepy.