Rebel: Enemies-To-Lovers (The Firehouse Book 1)

by Anna Joung

  “That would be...fun but no, of any male, I’m sure you have models.”

  I relax and shove back the flippant retorts I had ready to counteract his flirting. “Uh… sure, I’ve got a few.” As if I could afford any, but he doesn’t need to know that. “What do you need the painting for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “It’s a gift for a friend.”

  “Uh huh.” Even if he’s lying and he wants it for some weird fetish or something, I couldn’t care less. He’s offering me a job. “You’re serious about this?”

  “Of course.” He reaches into his breast pocket and whips out a business card.

  I stare at the card and I feel my eyes bulge a little, but I still try to play it cool. Bancroft Industries. Bancroft. As in the richest family in Chicago. Holy shit. I’ve seen the older Bancroft plenty of times in magazines and newspapers, so this must be his son. What are the chances I’d run into a Bancroft here? Shouldn’t he be somewhere much nicer having caviar and champagne for breakfast? At the least, I thought he’d have an entire army of bodyguards surrounding him.

  “What do you charge?”

  I’m speechless because learning who this man is, I really can’t imagine why he would even stop to talk to me. And because I can’t believe a job would just fall into my lap. Oh, my God―literally. The big guy upstairs really heard my little prayer earlier. I glance up.

  Now, I’d like a million dollars.

  Nothing happens. I shrug and swallow my laugh. It was worth a try.

  “I guess it would depend on the size of the portrait you want. “

  “Big. Money isn’t an issue.” Van smirks. “Think about it and give me a call. We can discuss the details then.”

  I gape at him. Not that I’m not grateful, but what is this guy’s angle? “Why are you doing this? I mean, helping me out. You’re giving a complete stranger a job.”

  He straightens his tie. “What can I say, you caught my attention. Why not take this opportunity, Summer?”

  My brows elevate. This guy is a piece of work. What, am I supposed to fall into bed with him because he offered me a job...that I really, really need? Okay, I’m kinda desperate here, so I’m going to let him think he has a shot. I muster up a smile I hope is flirtatious enough.

  “I will take the opportunity. Thank you, Mr. Bancroft.”

  “Van, please.” He’s gazing at me with a hint of satisfaction. I can just bet he thinks he’s got my ass in the bag or in his bed, rather.

  “Van. I’ll get back to you before this evening.” I palm the business card as if it’s a precious gift.

  “Great. I’ll be waiting for your call.” He gets up. “Enjoy the rest of your morning, Summer.”

  The wink he gives me is so corny, but hell, he just gave me a job. He can wink at me creepily as much as he wants. I stare at the door, Van saunters through in awe. I really just got a birthday miracle. Happy birthday to me.

  Summer

  “Thank you, Mr. Bancroft. I’m free to start as soon as possible.”

  He asks me if next week will work for me and I nod enthusiastically, forgetting that he can’t see me.

  “Three days is perfect.” It’ll give me time to find a studio to rent. With the down payment he’s offering to give, I don’t have to bring a nude model into my parents’ house. That would have been beyond awkward. I can barely contain my excitement. This is the biggest project I’ve had since...ever. “I’ll talk to you later, Mr. Bancroft.”

  “Come on, Summer,” he hums. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Van? I think we’re beyond the formalities.”

  My brows dip. Since I’ve only met the man today, I don’t see how we’d be past formalities but, I’ll call him whatever he wants me to. He’s paying me big.

  “Okay, okay. Van, we’ll keep in touch.”

  “That’s more like it. Bye, Summer.”

  I hang up the phone and practically float to my friend’s green satin coach.

  Brooke glances up from her laptop to study me with a smirk. “You look like you just got off the phone with your crush.”

  “I turned twenty-seven today. I can’t have a crush.”

  “A lover then?” Big sea-green eyes filled with hope, are fixed on me.

  Rolling my eyes, I sit up. “If I had a lover, I think my best friend would have heard about him before now.”

  She grins. “True. So, who is this Mr. Bancroft? A potential lover?”

  “Stop saying lover.”

  “Well, I’m hoping if I say it enough, you’ll actually get one.”

  I glare daggers at her. So what if my dry spell has been going on for years? I have more pressing concerns than sex. “How about we leave my sex life out of the narrative?”

  “You need to get some―”

  “Brooke, focus. I have big news.’’

  “Sorry.” She slides off her glasses and puts her laptop down. “You’ve got my full attention.”

  “Okay, so I’m sitting in our favorite cafe, job hunting and wallowing in self-pity―”

  “What a sad picture,” Brooke interjects.

  “So effing sad,” I agree with a sigh. “Anyway, this guy who's been staring me down just walks up to my table.”

  “Oh, my God, like a stalkerish type or a hot you’d totally do him type?”

  I tap my chin. Would I do Van Bancroft? “The latter,” I decide. “Although, he’s too much of a pretty boy to have my panties instantly dropping. You know what I mean?”

  Brooke lifts a blonde brow. “Uh huh.”

  “But he’s cute. Anyway, I have no idea who this guy is, and he’s all, don't you know who I am?”

  “Ugh, he sounds full of himself.”

  I snort. “I suppose when you’re a Bancroft and your family runs this side of the country, you’re allowed to be full of yourself.”

  “Holy crap. A Bancroft. He’s loaded.”

  “Loaded enough to pay me six grand for a painting!” I squeal.

  Brooke’s eyes bulge. “That much for your first project? That’s… incredible!” She joins me with even louder squealing, clapping her hands, and bouncing up and down.

  I laugh at the picture she makes. One would think she got the job and not me. That’s why we’ve been so tight since junior high. She’s my biggest supporter―more so than my own family, which is beyond sad.

  “And get this.” I’m smiling so hard, my face is starting to hurt. “If he likes my work, he’ll recommend me to his rich friends. I’m in big business, baby!”

  Brooke is the first to sober up from our dose of excitement. “Wait, you don’t do nudes.”

  “I didn’t do nudes. For six grand, I’ll stand on my head, fully naked, and paint a nude with my toes if I have to.”

  Brooke’s giggles fill her small living room. “Please don’t do that.”

  “I’m just saying, I needed this so I’ll do whatever I have to do to get the job done.” I release a long sigh. “I finally feel like my dream of living as an artist, is attainable.”

  “And this rich guy has no ulterior motive? He just decided to be generous to the general population today?”

  That pulls me up short, and for a second my hope and excitement momentarily deflate. “Well, I’m sure there’s an ulterior motive, namely, getting into my pants. As for anything else,” I shrug, “I don’t know. I thought he’d ask me out over our phone call, but he hasn’t.”

  “Oh no,” Brooke moans. “I just killed the vibe didn’t I?”

  “Well, you make a valid point. The whole thing with Van is… weird. I mean, who goes through that much trouble just to pick up a woman?”

  “Rich guys,” Brooke shrugs. “Being filthy rich tends to up a few peoples’ eccentricities a few notches.”

  I snicker. She isn’t wrong. “Maybe he’ll ask me out soon. He’s just playing it cool for now.” I pause as the shadow of doubt creeps in. “But why would he be interested in me?” He is who he is, one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, and I’m just
… average me.

  “Because you’re sexy as hell,” she scoffs.

  I shrug, and Brooke heaves a sigh. “You know what, we’re not going to try to solve the mystery of your new job and the rich guy. Let’s just celebrate the victory and your birthday. You don’t need to be stressed on your special day.”

  “I had to move back in with my parents. I’ve been stressed for months.”

  “Which is why you need a few drinks in you. We’re going out.”

  I groan. “Can we not?”

  “We’re hitting a bar.”

  “How about a bottle of wine here, just you and me?” I know no amount of coaxing will get her to back down. She’s like a dog with a bone when she gets an idea.

  “No way. We’re going to this bar I’ve been hearing about. The Firehouse Pub.”

  “It sounds dangerous.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  The twinkle in Brooke’s eyes makes me shake my head. I know that look. It’s her I need to ogle hot guys because I’ve been in a monogamous relationship for a too long look. “Why do you even have a boyfriend?” I ask, sending her the most disgusted look I can muster.

  “Because I’m madly in love. That doesn’t mean I can’t look at other...prospects. It’s perfectly innocent.”

  “Right.”

  “Plus, we need to find you a man, honey.”

  “As a feminist, I’m appalled that you would think I need one.”

  “Who said anything about needing one? I’m talking about one night of fun.”

  I roll my eyes as she shimmies her boobs and wiggles her eyebrows.

  “I’m good, thanks. I’m not in the headspace for anything involving a man and fun right now. I have my career to focus on...you know, the one that has been stagnant since I graduated.”

  “Where did I go wrong?” Brooke sighs. “Damn it, Summer, we’re going out and you’re going to have a little fun. What’s happened to you? You’ve turned into a homebody prude.”

  “I believe I’ve always been that so nothing new here.”

  “It’s your birthday for crying out loud. Just humor me, will you?”

  A staredown ensues. A silent war of wills. Brooke is way more stubborn than I am, so I know I won’t hear the end of it. Relenting, I throw my hands up in defeat. “If I say yes, will you promise to retire your obsession with my vagina?”

  “I don’t have an obsse―”

  “You’ve been trying to get a man between my legs for the last four years.”

  “Only because I care.” She shrugs. “Fine, I’ll put aside my obsession with your vagina… for now.”

  Her wicked smirk makes me snicker. Damn her, I can never say no to this girl. “Alright, let’s go to the Firehouse or whatever.”

  She squeals and claps her hands with pure glee. “Girls' night!”

  “Yeah,” I grumble, nowhere near as excited as she is.

  Rebel

  The Firehouse Pub is in full swing tonight. It’s appropriately named because as I look around, I see mostly firefighters, a majority of them from my station. There are plenty of other civil service workers scattered around the place. It's the place for all of us to relax after rough shifts or to just hang out with our friends. For me, it’s also a prime hunting ground. The ladies that come through on a nightly basis never say no to men in uniforms.

  “Look at you, it’s like you’re in the jungle hunting fresh meat.”

  I glance up, surprised that my thoughts have been verbalized by someone else. Bane, my best friend shakes his head with disapproval. “You know, Bane, since you’ve been on your soulful journey of redemption, you've become a real pain in the ass.”

  “You’d do well to follow my example.”

  “Nah, I like women and sex. I’ll keep both in my life, thanks.”

  “It isn’t just about women and sex, it’s about―”

  “Becoming your best self,” I finish. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it a million times.” Grabbing my beer, I chug it down until the bottle is empty. “Since I know that I have no better self to achieve, I might as well continue with my assholish ways.”

  Bane’s sigh resonates with disappointment, and I smile at him. I’m about to get up to order another drink when two women walk in. My eyes immediately zoom in on the redhead and my dick instantly stands at attention. Her curves are mouth-watering. Her hourglass figure transforms her modest dress into something insanely sexy. Immediately my mind goes to a dimly lit room with a California king covered with silk sheets and our naked bodies intertwined on top of it. Yeah, she looks like the silk sheets type. I can tell she’s a classy girl… and totally not my type.

  I’ve got a serious problem. One I’ve had for the last six months. I developed a thing for redheads because of one elusive ginger. I saw her a few times and developed this fascination with her― probably an unhealthy one. She became my fantasy woman because she represented everything I knew I’d never have. I blew my chance of getting to know her and I never saw her again. I never mentioned Ginger― that’s what I call her― to anyone, not even Bane. I’ve had to force myself to stop thinking about the mystery woman and move on. Still, Ginger has continued to haunt my dreams.

  I force my attention away from the new arrival to scope out other prospects. There are plenty of delicious fruits ripe for the picking tonight. Like the leggy blonde with the tight ass sauntering to the bar or the brunette with the incredible rack who’s been giving me the eye since I got here. Her naughty smile is a clear invitation back to her place for a wild night.

  Yet, I can’t stop my eyes from straying back to the redhead. She’s making her way toward my table with her friend. The closer she gets, the more I ignore the alarm bells going off in my head. She’s probably looking for Prince Charming. I’m more like Mr. Charming’s evil twin.

  I can be charming as fuck but my only agenda is to charm panties off, take what I want, and make my escape in the wee hours of the morning. There’s an innocence radiating from the woman that should turn me off. Instead, I’m turned way on. If anyone is going to corrupt her, it should be me because I’ll make sure she enjoys every second of the process.

  The mystery woman walks right past me, and I inhale her light flowering scent. Intoxicating. Our eyes clash for a second and I gasp. Ginger? It can’t be her. There’s no way I’d be lucky enough to have the woman I never thought I’d see again walk right into the Firehouse Pub. Even if it isn’t her, I’m hooked on the new arrival just because she reminds me of Ginger.

  Forget my usual type. My type for tonight is sophisticated with an aura of innocence, brown eyes, and a body that’s just pure sin covered by a schoolmarm outfit.

  “Come on, Summer, we’re hitting the bar,” I hear her friend say. My eyes go wide. During my time obsessing over Ginger, I’d learned her name. Summer. It has to be her. My Summer.

  “We could at least find a table first. You know, one in a corner way in the back.”

  My lips lift slightly. It sounds like Summer doesn’t want to be here tonight. And I see the perfect opportunity to introduce myself. Finally, I get to talk to the woman who has been the object of my fascination. I don’t believe in fate, but seeing Summer again is crazy. Maybe if I sleep with her, I’ll get her out of my system. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what I need. I’ll see that she isn’t the perfect woman I’ve created in my fantasies and finally be able to move on. She doesn’t even have to know that I’ve seen her before. I’ll just be a guy she met in a bar.

  “We have to make your birthday memorable, girl. The best way to do that is to start with alcohol.”

  “Is it really the best way though?” Summer sighs. “I can think of other better ways that don’t involve a crowded bar.”

  My ears perk up. It’s Mystery woman―Summer’s birthday. I turn to watch the two advance to the bar, my eyes glued to her ass. It’s settled. I’m going to make sure that Summer enjoys the hell out of her birthday. It’s my duty as a civil servant.

  “Leave that one alone, man.”
>
  My eyes swing to Bane, who’s scowling at me. “What?”

  Bane takes a swig from his bottle. “The woman that you’re eye-fucking is not your type.”

  “Fuck you, Bane. You don’t know my type.”

  He chuckles and points to the brunette who's still staring in my direction. “She’s your type. She looks like she won’t give a shit when you disappear in the morning.”

  I glare at him, hating that he’s right. I should leave the redhead alone but, damn it, I can’t help myself. “As if you’re a fucking saint, Bane. I remember you being more of a manwhore than me not too long ago ”

  His nostrils flare and color highlights his cheeks. I expect him to tell me to go to hell, but all he does is shrug. “Touché asshole. You’re totally right. I was you, if not worse, not too long ago. I’ll reserve judgment.”

  “Is that another point on your checklist of becoming less of a dick? Not judging?”

  “Something like that,” he grumbles. “You know, I hate you sometimes.”

  Grinning, because I know he doesn’t mean it, I get up and make my way to the bar. Redhead has her back turned and there’s some idiot whispering in her ear. Leaning casually against the bar, I drawl, “Happy birthday, Summer. Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

  Wide eyes, brimming with confusion meet mine. “Uh…” A slight smile lifts her lips as confusion turns to amusement. “No, I haven’t…”

  The man that was chatting her up looks at me and immediately bows out. “Oh, sorry, man.”

  I watch him walk away, satisfied.

  “I didn’t need rescuing but thanks anyway…”

  “Rebel.”

  “Rebel. For real?”

  She smiles and my attention is immediately drawn to her lushly curved lips. I can’t help but picture them wrapped around my dick. I don’t mean to be such a perv, but Summer’s strange mix of sexual allure and innocence is beyond potent. I wonder if she even realizes? Staring at her, I figure that she probably doesn’t. There’s nothing hotter than a woman who’s sexy as sin but isn’t aware of it.