“Eight?” I press my lips together because I know I’ve got a lot of explaining to do.
Her gaze wanders for a moment as she squints over at the bartender himself.
“Steven?” She screeches it out in a fit of disbelief. “What have you done, Ally?” Tess clamps her hands to her hips as she sweeps the room with an interrogating gaze. “Oh, hon, Dell is going to kill you. And I mean that literally. You need to stop right this minute and send everybody back to Pretty Girls where they belong.”
“This isn’t a hostage situation, Tess. They’re here because the pay is better. Plus there’s no house fee.”
Her mouth drops to the floor, and for a moment I think she’s considering her options.
“Look, I’m warning you, Dell isn’t going to sit around with his thumb up his ass once he finds out what’s happening here.”
“Please don’t tell.” An image of her moronic boyfriend mowing Morgan down with his Camaro bounces through my mind. “Morgan is leaving soon. His mom’s wedding is next weekend. It’d be sacrilegious to slaughter him before then.”
“Relax, I’m not telling, Ally.” She rolls her eyes at the idea. “Dell’s got his ways of finding out on his own. Believe me, that man knows everything. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave town right along with your newfound boy toy.” She pulls me in gently by the neck and sighs. “Are we still on for Ruby’s birthday?”
“Of course.” I shake my head at her. “I’d never deny you that. You and Ruby are the only real family I have.” I hate to relegate Derek to the realm of distant other, but he sort of did that to himself when he harvested his own pharmaceuticals. Of course, Morgan feels like family too.
She leans in and presses a tender kiss just above my cheek.
“Be careful, okay?” Her blonde locks are swept to one side, hiding her eye in a sexy way. I wish to God Tess wasn’t chained to Dell like some kind of explosive device. Too bad she can’t see he’s ready to blow and take her with him. “I love you, sweetie.”
My heart thumps unnaturally when she says those words. I don’t believe Tess and I have ever said I love you to one another.
“I love you too, Tess.” I pull her in and offer a death grip of a hug. Something huge is about to happen in our lives, but I can’t pinpoint what. I just hope somehow we both get our happy endings.
Tess runs out of the club as if it were on fire, and I shudder thinking about her cryptic words. If Dell finds out, both Morgan and I will have a demon by the tail.
“Hey, bitch.” A female voice booms as she twists me around by the elbow. It’s Molly. Her lipstick is smeared, and her hair looks as if she’s been dancing on her head all night. “I heard you’ve been screwing around with my boyfriend.”
“And who would that be?” God, she’s tanked. Where’s Cruise when you need him?
A hard slap ignites over my cheek, and I feel the sting long after she’s distributed it.
I touch my fingers to my numb face. It feels raw as a steak—already swelling. Just past her shoulder I spot Blair. I think I know who lit Molly up like a stick of dynamite. Lighting the fuse is Blair’s favorite sport.
“What the hell?” Kendall appears and helps support Molly, to keep her from falling flat on her drunk ass.
“Looks like our favorite power bitch is up to her old tricks again.”
“Molly.” Cruise pops up, pissed as hell at his sister’s state of unsober being.
“Get her home,” Kendall snaps. “I’ll wait here with Ally.” A touch of an evil smile twitches on her lips.
Cruise doesn’t protest the idea and hauls Molly’s slaphappy ass right off the premises. I think I’ll tell Cal she’s no longer welcome. I’m pretty sure Cruise won’t fight me on it since she’s underage. Chalk another one up on the felony scoreboard.
“What has she done?” Kendall asks me, shaking with anger while glaring at Blair.
“What hasn’t she done? She tried to destroy you and Cruise, and now she’s after Morgan.”
“Poor under-laid Blair.” Kendall feigns pity. “I think maybe we should show her a good time instead.”
“Kendall.”
“Not like that.” She averts her gaze. “Follow me.”
Kendall is a woman on a mission, and judging by the way she’s stomping over to Blair, I’d bet a serious ass-kicking was about to start. Blair is going to require tons of pain meds and years of psychiatric treatment to recover from the surprise this evening is about to produce.
Kendall links her arm through Blair’s, and I do the same on the other side as we sweep her off toward the back.
“Okay, I get it, you’re pissed,” Blair says, shuffling her feet in the air because we’ve resorted to airlifting her to our final destination. I’m hoping an incinerator is involved. If I’m going to fry, it might as well be for something big and, in Blair’s case, totally worth it.
Kendall swings open the door to the Exotic Room and speeds us inside.
A red light strobes through the darkened environment, tinting the room and everyone in it a sultry shade of sin. I spot Rutger and Woody Bates—an appropriate pairing when you consider this very room is a magnet for assholes. Bates gives a slight wave as if he’s still got a chance. Creepy.
“Attention, everybody!” Kendall’s voice shrills high like a whistle, and the girls slow their movements to a crawl. “My friend here would like to strut her stuff, but she’s feeling a little shy, so I thought maybe you could help her out?”
Help her?
“What’s her name?” Cinnamon, one of the girls from the club, belts it out like a song.
“Blair.” Kendall is quick to divulge her victim’s name.
“Bodacious Blair,” I add, and the room lights up with laughter because, well, the irony is evident.
So that’s it? Kendall’s big revenge is making Blair swivel her hips in front of a couple dozen wasted men—maybe scoring some loose bills in the process? Unimpressive. I doubt this will shred the fiber of her rotten being. Most likely it’ll just breed the need to delve further into exhibitionism.
The girls break out in a choir of “Go, Blair, go Blair,” and it all sounds a little too cheerful, like this is some sorority event engineered to bolster her morale instead of ushering her into public humiliation as intended. Kendall obviously needs some assistance in this department so I gladly step in.
Kendall braces Blair by the shoulders, ready to launch her into the growing circle of bikini-clad dancers, and the only thing I can think to do is pants her. Only she’s not wearing any, so I opt for the next logical solution. I pull her dress off over her shoulders so fast that Blair is clear across the room before she notices it’s missing.
“Oh my God,” I gasp. Not only did Blair go commando, but she seems to be deficient in the boulder-holder department as well. Not that it matters much because honestly? What’s there to hold?
“Our work here is done,” Kendall hisses as she speeds us out of the Exotic Room and deep into the mix of bodies clear across the club.
We laugh our asses off for the next twenty minutes straight. It was a thing of beauty watching Blair flail and gyrate while trying to cover her bits and pieces, and I do mean bits.
But I have a feeling our little act of revenge is going to be reciprocated, sooner than later. Blair Lancaster doesn’t go down easy. Nor does she fight a fair fight. Boyfriends and doctoral degrees have been known to vanish under her wrath, but I say bring it. I’ll expect anything and everything. She’s out for a hell of a lot more than simply humiliating us. She’s out to snake our boyfriends from underneath us—at least one of them, and I’m betting that one is mine.
But one thing I know for sure: Morgan Jordan isn’t going anywhere.
Except of course to Oregon.
Saturday, I set off for my playdate with Ruby. I’m so grateful the Christies don’t mind me sp
ending time with her that I hug Janice, her mother, to death each time I see her.
The Christies live in Farmington, about a two-and-a-half-hour drive away. Nothing but country roads stretch out before me, like silver snakes that slither on for miles. I never seem to mind the drive because every minute brings me that much closer to seeing my sweet rose-faced cherub.
Ruby has an adoptive older sister named Merrill and a younger sister named Kayla. Janice asked if we could all hang out together because Ruby’s sisters were jealous she was getting her nails done, so of course I said yes. I opted for Morgan’s genius suggestion of a mani-pedi playdate along with my equally genius plan of sneaking in some ice cream and a movie.
Morgan. I can’t seem to get him off my mind, and with each passing mile my heart aches just a little bit more knowing I’m that much farther from him. Funny, the only one who’s ever elicited those feelings in me before was Ruby. It’s as if Morgan has managed to graft himself over my heart almost as firmly as my own flesh and blood. For a moment I fantasize that Ruby was ours, mine and Morgan’s—that she lived with us in married housing over at Garrison. Then in a viral assault on my emotions I remember that he’s leaving in less than two weeks and all of the good times, the club, the way he rocks that damn bed, will up and leave with him, right along with my heart.
I arrive at the oversized house with its proverbial white picket fence and stretch my limbs before heading toward the porch.
Ruby runs out at top speed, laughing and clapping her hands, happy to see me.
Her hair is entwined in an intricate French braid, and she’s sporting a touch of a summer tan. Her lips are a testament to her name.
“My beautiful girl.” I pick her up and offer a spin before planting a big wet kiss on her cheek. “Are you ready to get pretty-pretty?” That’s what she calls going to the salon, getting pretty-pretty.
She holds out her nails and waves them through the air as if they were already drying.
Janice comes out with the girls, and we pile in her minivan and head into town.
I always let Ruby pick her color first, and then I use it too. At least that way I can look down at my nails and know she’s wearing the same shade. Sometimes just looking at my hands is enough to make me want to cry. It’s a visceral pain, being away from her, but one I’ve learned to live with because each passing day brings me that much closer to seeing her again, then it all starts again on a loop. I steal glances at Ruby, who’s seated to my right with her hands extended for the manicurist to tend to. I try to memorize every bit for later but these warm fuzzy feelings rarely last until next time. I spend way too many nights crying myself to sleep because I desperately miss her. Speaking of crying myself to sleep, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing once Morgan goes back home. And, if Morgan did manage to knock up some girl back in Oregon, I doubt he’d want to make the move in this direction at any point in time. Not that we’ve even broached the topic of what to do when the new school year begins.
“You’re quiet,” Janice says as we soak our nails side by side. “How are things going?”
“Better than ever,” I blurt. Really? Are they? It seems like an odd thing to say after contemplating my relationship’s impending demise.
“Judging by that goofy grin that hasn’t left your face, I’m betting there’s a boy involved.” She tilts her head to the side as if chiding for me to agree. Janice is sweet and cute. She’s at least fifteen years my senior. She wears her hair in a blonde pixie and miraculously manages to keep her figure lean even though I’ve seen her pound the all-you-can-eat buffet at the Chinese restaurant more than half a dozen times.
“Okay,” I whisper. “So there might be a boy.” I bite down on the goofy grin threating to permanently etch itself onto my face.
“Well, don’t just sit there.” She bounces her leg off her knee. “Come on, dish.”
“His name is Morgan.” Just verbalizing his name—feeling it tumble from my lips—excites me in places that shouldn’t be excited in a nail salon. “He’s got this amazing jet-black hair and dimples you could curl up and nap in. And his smile, well, it lights up the night clear to the space station.”
“Whoa!” Janice breaks out in a spontaneous laugh that makes all three girls look up with their full attention. “You had me at dimples.” She lets her enthusiasm settle for a minute before prodding on. “So, where are things headed? Is this a summer romance or something that has the potential to last?”
I heave a giant sigh. “I wish I knew. He goes to school way out in Oregon. He’s just out for the summer for his mother’s wedding.” I give a sheepish grin. “I said the L word for the very first time.”
Her eyes widen with a smile all their own. “Okay—so, did he say it back?”
“Yes.” I can feel my cheeks turning ten shades of crimson.
“Look, Mommy!” Ruby calls and holds out her bright-pink fingers. It takes a minute for me to notice she’s looking at Janice, not me. Of course she is. I’m “Mama,” and I think it’s way nice of Janice to allow her to call me that. It’s amazing Janice doesn’t feel threatened or worried about letting me visit. Not that she should, but when we established this arrangement four years ago, under the guidance of her legal team, I had every worry filtering through my brain. Fear was my middle name. Still is. Ruby’s father blinks through my mind, and I push him away. Thank God he’s not Ruby’s “daddy,” her “dada,” or her anything. Janice married a good man. She knows how to pick ’em, unlike me—well, except for Morgan.
“Hey”—I turn to her—“I just thought of something.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re a sane person with a great track record in the relationship department, so you must know a thing or two about sifting the wheat from the douche. Would you mind meeting Morgan and telling me what you think?” I already know Morgan Jordan is no douchebag but, in a small way, I want Janice’s approval. Hell, I think I need it.
She blinks back in surprise.
“Oh, Ally”—her face crumbles just enough to worry me—“I’m no judge. If this guy makes you happy, then that’s good enough for me and it should be good enough for you too.”
“I suppose you’re right.” I just can’t afford another mistake. I’m damn lucky I’m not sitting in a prison cell somewhere. One wrong person—one wrong move—can equal a lethal combination and take freedom out of the equation when it comes to your future. I of all people should know.
“You’re still so afraid of what almost happened,” she says it sweetly. Her heart breaks for me. I can see it in her face. “Honey, you’re a different person now. You know deep down inside what makes someone a moral and upstanding citizen. And if that’s the type of man Morgan is, then, sweetie, you’ve already got it all. Of course, you’ll have to figure out the distance thing, but in college that’s no big deal. Angus and I went to schools on opposite coasts, and look at us, we turned out just fine. I promise you, if this is meant to be, ain’t nobody or no amount of land going to stop it from happening.” She gives a little wink.
God, I hope she’s right.
I glance over at Ruby and her porcelain-doll face, the piercing green eyes that make the summer grass jealous of their color, and my heart melts.
Lord knows I can’t afford to make another mistake in love.
“Tell you what.” Janice pulls me from my trance. “Ruby’s birthday is coming up—if he’s still in town, bring him by.”
“Really?” I wanted Janice to meet him, but for it to be on Ruby’s birthday seems like a dream. I’d love to have Morgan there to share that special day with me.
“Yes. That way I can meet this dark-haired god who stole your heart. I promise I won’t judge him. I just want to see those dimples for myself.”
“Fair enough.”
My hearts beats erratically.
Morgan is about to venture into the final frontier in my life—Ru
by.
This is going to be big.
And now, suddenly, Morgan Jordan feels a lot more like family than ever before.
Morgan
Garrison University is oversized and pretentious. It screams we engineer the future assholes of America.
I shake my head as I take in the sights. How the hell did Ally end up here anyway? Why the hell did Ally end up here? Everyone knows state schools are more fun. Not that I should talk. I don’t go to a state school, and come to think of it my own mother went to Garrison. And, of course, Kendall, who I’ve always admired for having her head screwed on straight, attends this wayward establishment and claims to like it.
The grounds are mostly empty with nothing but a stray bicycle here and there. A few skateboards whiz by as I make my way through campus. I didn’t want to tell Kendall what I was up to in fear she’d leak it to Ally and ruin the surprise.
The sun straddles high above as I race up the steps to the administration building and head inside. A blast of air-conditioning greets me as a modern amenity but the pale limestone floors make it feel as though I’ve just entered some seventeenth-century castle. I kind of like the idea because Ally is every bit a princess. Although, ironically in this fairy tale, Ally doesn’t need saving. She’s no damsel in distress. She’s a kick-ass, take ’em by the balls and ask questions later type, which is what attracted me to her in the first place. Plus she’s got a smart mouth, and I can appreciate a girl who can put me in my place once in a while.
A young girl, with a dark mop of a head, sits behind the only desk in sight so I make my way over, locked and loaded, with a million questions ready to blow.
“Excuse me?”
Someone Like You Page 19