Piper: The Casanova Club #1

by Ali Parker

  “I’ve got your back. But you should consider what you’re going to tell your parents. Maybe plant a seed when you see them for breakfast that you might be gone for awhile. No matter what way you look at this, you’re going to be dropping a bomb on them.”

  “Yeah,” I said, frowning. “They’re not going to like it.”

  “Don’t tell them about the twelve dudes you’re going to date. Make something up.”

  “Something like what?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Janie said, tugging the curtain aside again. Her blonde hair was matted to her cheeks, and water clung to her lashes. “Tell them you have an opportunity to study overseas with school.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “I know. That’s why I said it. Now get the hell out of here so I can dry off.”

  * * *

  When I got to my parents house, they were just setting the food out on the kitchen table. All of my mother’s Christmas decor was out, and the house was cozy and warm and welcoming. It smelled like mulled spices and coffee and bacon.

  I took my usual seat at the kitchen table across from Phillip, who was already plucking pieces of crispy bacon from where they sat on a plate in the middle of the table. Then he buttered his pancakes and drowned them in maple syrup.

  “Real maple syrup?” I asked, nodding at the bottle my brother had just set down. “What’s the occasion?” Maple syrup was expensive, and my parents tended to avoid purchases like that. So I was surprised to see it on their table.

  My father tucked his chair in and draped his napkin over his knee. “We thought it was fitting for a bit of a celebration. Our customers are coming back, kiddo. A bit of indulgence is allowed now that the tables are turning”

  “It was one day, Dad,” I said cautiously. “I know you’re optimistic, but we should still be practical, too. This could just be because of the holidays.”

  “Hush now,” my dad said, and then he gave my mother a warm smile. “I have a good feeling about this. All of our hard work is going to pay off. We’re going to make ends meet.”

  I swallowed and watched my father cut into his stack of pancakes. As I watched my family eat, I wondered if Janie was making any progress with Jackson Lee. He was my last chance at saving my family from absolute destruction. If they lost the restaurant, they would lose everything. For all I knew, their house might even be at stake. I had no clue what their current financial situation was. I just knew it was bad.

  “Um, guys? I have to talk to you about something.” I ran my hands up and down my thighs. My mouth was suddenly dry, and I was really nervous. I didn’t want to let them down, but I needed to do this. For them. For us.

  “What’s going on, sweetheart?” my mother asked as she sipped her coffee.

  I looked from her to my father. Then I chose neutral territory and met my brother’s eyes across the table. “I might have a chance to travel for school next year. Two semesters abroad. Maybe three. It’s an opportunity that only comes up once, and I… if I get it, I think I want to go.”

  My father put down his knife and fork. My mother froze with her coffee mug pressed to her lips. Phillip merely blinked at me. Then his eyes darted to my father, who had rested his elbows on the table and was staring at me with a cool, unreadable expression.

  “Piper, you’re twenty-one,” he said.

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  He shook his head. “Absolutely not. How can I protect my daughter when she’s on another continent?”

  “You don’t have to protect me, Dad. I can take care of myself. This is school, not just me gallivanting off to another country to run away from my responsibilities.” Little did he know, I’d be spending every month with a new man in an effort to make enough money to keep his and my mother’s head above water. And Phillip’s.

  “No. That’s final, Piper. No.”

  “You won’t even entertain a conversation?” I asked. My chest was starting to itch. I was getting angry.

  How dare he smother me like this after everything I’d done? I’d been busting my ass trying to help with the restaurant while maintaining my high GPA and still working other jobs like the school cafeteria, bookstore, library, and tutoring.

  My father continued shaking his head as he picked up his cutlery. “No. I won’t hear another word of it. Your place is here.”

  “Maybe we should talk about it,” my mother chimed in. She looked a little bit hopeful and offered me a small smile. “Piper is responsible. She doesn’t make reckless choices. And you and I have talked about how we wish she could get away from the restaurant for a while and see where her life takes her.”

  “I won’t have my only daughter that far away from me when she is still a child.”

  “I’m not a child!” I said. My voice was louder than I wanted it to be. I clenched my jaw and stood up. The legs of my chair squealed on the checkered tile floor. “I’m sorry, Dad, but I mean it. I’m not a child. You have to let me make some choices for myself.”

  “Sit down, Piper,” my dad said heavily.

  “No.”

  “Sit. Down.”

  “No!” I cried. The room was silent. I swallowed and looked apologetic around at them all. “I’m sorry. I need to go. I can’t believe you won’t even give me a chance.”

  I stormed out. My mother called after me, but I didn’t turn around. I plucked my jacket from the hook by the front door and marched outside into the cold. It bit into my skin, and I buried my chin into the collar of my jacket as I walked down the street to catch the bus.

  I rode it to campus where I had to work in the library sorting books for an hour. I pocketed the usual fifty bucks when I was done. Then I spent two hours tutoring. After that, I made my way to the cafeteria, put on a white but stained old apron, and took my place behind the serving counter.

  As I scooped pasta and salad onto plates, I ran over the argument with my father in my mind. I felt betrayed. After everything I had done for the family, he still didn’t trust me enough to let me leave. The fact that I was lying to him might have been what was making me feel especially bad. He didn’t want me getting into trouble. It scared the hell out of him.

  And here I was, lying to him in an effort to get myself away from my family long enough to date twelve billionaires in the hopes of walking away at the end of the year with a fat pocket of cash. Maybe he had reason to say no. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was still a child who needed protection.

  No, I thought sharply, shaking my head as I slapped a heavy spoonful of pasta onto someone’s plate. I passed it back to them, and they hurried off down the line to pay for their food.

  I was no child. I was a grown-ass woman. I juggled half a dozen responsibilities like a pro. I didn’t know a single person who worked half as hard as I did and saw such little profits from their efforts.

  All my money and energy went into Piper’s Paradise. And the very last thing that place was to me was a paradise.

  I loved it because my parents loved it. I wanted to save it for them, not for me.

  Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I did something for me.

  Someone handed me their plate. I scooped more pasta out and passed it back. Their finger grazed my wrist and a familiar voice asked, “Piper, are you all right?”

  I peered through the glass partition separating me from those collecting their food. On the other side stood a white-haired man; my biology professor, Mr. Smithe.

  “Hi, Professor,” I said. “Would you like more pasta? I can get a bit more for you, and it’ll stay between us.”

  Mr. Smithe chuckled and shook his head. “I’m all right. This is plenty. I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been a bit distant lately. Is everything all right?”

  “Oh. Yes of course. I’m just a bit… flustered with exams and all that.”

  “I understand.” He nodded slowly. “Well, now may not be the appropriate time to tell you this, but some good news might alleviate the pressure you’re feeling. I’m going to nominat
e you for our scholarship in Academics next year, Miss James. And I believe I might not be the only one doing so.”

  My mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”

  He gave a hearty chuckle and nodded as he moved down the line. “Dead serious. If I don’t see you before Christmas break, have a great holiday. Looking forward to seeing you next semester.”

  Sunshine shone out of my ass for the rest of the afternoon. I’d finally caught a break.

  Of course, I might not be able to take advantage of the scholarship if I was out of country, being courted by some rich pompous asshole with a private jet and the worst case of narcissism in the United States.

  I pushed that thought aside. I could deal with that when the time came. Maybe the scholarship was flexible, and I could push it to the next year.

  When I finished my shift in the cafeteria, I called Janie. I couldn’t stand to wait any longer. She answered right before the call went to voicemail. “Hey, Piper. Sorry. I can’t talk right now. Busy.”

  “Can you just tell me if you’ve heard anything? I’m going crazy over here.”

  There was a delay. Silence filled the phone. My heart skipped.

  “Janie?”

  “Fine. Hold on. Let me just close my door.”

  I waited for Janie to close her office door. When I heard the click, I asked, “So? What’s the verdict?”

  “You’re in, Piper.”

  Those words felt like someone had just ripped the floor out from under me. “What?”

  “You’re in. I have a time slot for you tomorrow at three. Then, after that, you have a seat at dinner. Everyone will be there. You, the other women, and the twelve men.”

  “Wait. What?”

  Janie giggled. “I know it’s a lot. But it’s what you wanted. It is still what you want, right?”

  I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.

  “Piper?”

  “Oh. Yes! Yes, of course it is!”

  “Good. I’ll let you know all the details later tonight when I get home.”

  I covered my mouth with one hand. Was this really happening? How was this possible? What sort of idiot did Jackson Lee have to be to let me into this elite club? “Do I have a special name?”

  “A special name?” Janie asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Piper sounds pretty mundane. Shouldn’t I have a rich girl name?”

  “Give me five examples of rich girl names right now,” Janie said dryly.

  I pursed my lips. “Veronica, Vivian, Victoria—”

  “Give me one that doesn’t start with a ‘V’.”

  “Clarice, Genevieve, Penelope… should I keep going?”

  “No. Please don’t. You don’t need a special name. You’re Piper.”

  “How did you pull this off, Janie?”

  Janie laughed lightly. “I lied. I told Jackson your photo got lost in the mix somewhere, and you’d been part of it the whole time. He brought your picture in, and what do you know? You’re in the final ten.”

  “Shit.”

  “Shit?”

  “Yeah. The good shit. This is happening. This is really happening.”

  Janie giggled. “Yeah, it is. But I have to go, Piper. Don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay? It’s important that it stays secret. We can talk more about it tonight.”

  “Okay. Hey, Janie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. Seriously. This is huge.”

  Janie was quiet for a couple of seconds. Maybe she was getting as emotional as I was. Then she took a deep breath. “You’re welcome. You deserve this, Piper. It’s been a long time coming.”

  Chapter 12

  Aaron

  The snow crunched beneath his boots. Every step echoed in his ears and reminded him of one solitary fact: the distance between them was increasing.

  He was bad for her, and he knew it. Jane deserved more than him. She deserved more than a man with a shady past and the temperament of a rabid dog.

  She was everything that he was not. Soft lines and gentle curves and sweet words. She was comfort and kindness and love where he was darkness, anger, and spite. She loved him for some reason unbeknownst to him, and he loved her for loving him.

  He tried to tell himself that was all it was.

  Misguided love. Love because she must be the only soul pure enough to find any semblance of good in him.

  But enough was enough. He’d let her put too much on the line for him already, and he was dragging her into his mess. He was tied up with bad people. The sort of people who would hurt her just to hurt him. She was his weakness. If they got to her, it would all be over. She would die. And so would he.

  And there was no sense in that.

  So, he continued walking. The tree line loomed up ahead, and soon, he was standing in their shadows, peering up at the swaying tips of the pines as the wind picked up and the sun dipped behind the rolling hills miles behind him.

  She would miss him. But she would move on, too. In time, she would forget him. And she would be something he could hold on to when the night became too dark and the weight of the world too heavy upon his shoulders.

  She would be his guiding light until the day he died.

  And he was okay with that.

  * * *

  After I typed the final period at the end of the sentence, I pushed my chair away from my desk and hung my head back to look up at the ceiling.

  My agent was going to hate how the book ended. She was going to hate it so much she might wring my neck for trying such a stupid stunt in the first place. I could hear Marcy’s shrill, angry voice already.

  “You realize the point of a romance is that they end up together, right, Aaron?”

  “Why on earth did I read so many pages to find out he walked out on her the night before their wedding?”

  “Rewrite the last four chapters.”

  “This doesn’t sell romance novels, Aaron. They need to end up together.”

  But I was getting tired of the books with happy endings. I was tired of the pretty bow at the end and the unrealistic conclusions. I wanted something raw. Something real. Something someone could hold in their hands and feel in their hearts as the world crumbled for the characters they’d fallen in love with.

  I wanted it to resonate with them.

  Marcy would just have to suck it up and deal with it. I wasn’t budging. It was going to be printed with that ending. I didn’t care how hard I had to fight for it. Hell, I’d take a commission cut to make it happen.

  People needed to read real love stories.

  I rubbed at my eyes and dragged my hands down my face. The stubble on my cheeks tickled my palms. I’d have to shave soon.

  Or not.

  A quick glance at my clock had me internally groaning. I had to head back to the Casanova Club out in the city. I was spending the weekend there to avoid the two-hour commute each way to and from my home outside the city.

  I packed up my laptop and went up to my bedroom to grab the bag I’d already packed. I made sure everything was off and locked up before heading out to my car and making my way out to the city.

  It was a longer drive than usual, due to construction.

  It gave me time to ponder the weekend I had in store. I knew I’d be spending a good chunk of my time with men who made my teeth itch. Easton’s bad attitude had worn on me after the first two hours I was in the same room with him. I came to dislike Cooper just as much over the past few weeks. All of them were such alpha males, and I couldn’t help but think their heads were full of sawdust.

  There were some exceptions, of course, but none of us really wanted to be friends. At least, that was the impression I got. We were all each other’s competition in the end, and a room of men like those of the Casanova Club were top-notch competitors.

  It was easy for me to feel out of place during all our meetings. I was a writer and an introvert. I had imposter syndrome over being an author. Trying to sell myself as a billionaire worthy of such an e
lite club was harder than it looked, and I was still astounded that they’d even let me in.

  Maybe there were rules that stated there needed to be a nerdy underdog or something. If there was, I fit the bill. Sure, I was a bestselling author, and yes, I was well traveled, but I was not an athlete or a man with power and influence.

  I told stories for a living.

  What the hell would a girl find sexy about that?

  It didn’t matter. What mattered was that my love life wasn’t working. I’d done the online dating scene—a treacherous disaster—and I’d even allowed my parents to set me up on a couple blind dates. I was a nerd, after all.

  I trusted my mom and dad to have my back when it came to that sort of thing. I learned my lesson, though. Mom wanted a good Christian girl, and Dad wanted a girl who could cook and bake and tend house.

  I didn’t want any of those things.

  I didn’t know what I wanted. All I knew was I hadn’t found her yet.

  New York loomed up ahead of me through the windshield. The late morning sun had taken all the frost off the rooftops and streets by the time I plunged into the city and headed north toward the club.

  My parents hadn’t been thrilled when I told them I no longer wanted them scouting the field for me and setting me up with women who wanted to start popping kids out within the next year. I told them I could handle it myself.

  That was three years ago.

  My mom was on my case on a weekly basis about my situation. That was what she liked to call it.

  “Aaron? Do you have time to come over for coffee tomorrow morning? I’d like to talk to you about your situation.”

  She had long since given up trying to put any effort into concealing her disappointment. Her son was thirty-six, single as hell, and had no prospects. Besides his list of bestselling books, of course.

  I pulled my car into the underground lot beneath the Club and parked. I got out and made my way back up to street level where I walked a block down the street to a little hole in the wall cafe I’d discovered a couple of months ago. They had the best cup of coffee in the city and pretty decent bagels, too. I ordered both and sat at one of the tables by the window.