by Mia Kayla
I suppressed a laugh. This woman had pegged me all wrong on so many levels.
***
KENDY
The bass of the music thumped in the background as the heat index of the room increased. More and more people had entered the bar, making an already crowded area now overly packed.
I ran my finger along the top of my drink and glanced back at Brian. He probably thought I was on the prowl for a sugar daddy, so I needed to set him straight. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re dead wrong. I’m not a gold digger.”
He looked at me with feigned disbelief, which pissed me off even more because it couldn’t have been further from the truth.
“A gold digger is looking for a man to support her, because she doesn’t work,” I argued. “I’m an educated college graduate. Bachelors of Science in nursing. That’s right, BS, baby. Straight A’s to boot.” I tucked an escaping strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m not looking for a man to support me. I’m looking for a man to give me what I deserve, and Tiffany’s is it.”
He held up his hands in self-defense. “I never called you a gold digger.”
“Well, you thought it, and I’m just setting you straight.” I uncrossed and crossed my legs, and Brian’s eyes flashed. I wondered if he saw I wasn’t wearing any panties. I pulled at my skirt, making sure he didn’t get another glimpse if he did see.
And maybe I’d had one too many drinks, or maybe it was my honest nature, but I ended up telling him anyway. “Yes, it’s true I like to go commando. Why try to play games if I know what I want? And who knows? It might be his lucky night.” If I could only get his damn attention.
“You want to practice first before you go on your date with him?” A small smirk played on his lips.
I laughed. There was no seriousness in his tone when he said it. “I’ve had much practice in the sex department, and if you think my shit is loose, I guarantee you it’s tight as a knot down there.” I pointed my fingers between my legs. “I do kegels regularly. Actually, right now as we speak.” From the look on his face, he had no clue what kegels were. “Forget it,” I said, shaking my head.
“It looks like you need to step up your game sooner than later.” Brian nodded in Dr. Klein’s direction.
I bit back the disgust forming at the back of my throat as his hands moved to the blonde’s ass and his tongue darted into her mouth.
I narrowed my eyes and sighed, hiding my emotions. “She’s got nothing on me. She’s way too fake. Hers boobs are bought, hard, and stored in a plastic bag. Mine are au naturel. Here, cop a feel.” I angled my boobs toward Brian.
His eyes widened, and he let out a low laugh, but then his face turned serious. He lifted an eyebrow as though he’d heard me incorrectly. A second later, his face broke out in a boyish grin. I could tell he thought I was kidding when I was being dead serious.
“Feel my tits.” I angled the ladies toward him. “I know they look fake, but feel them. This is the problem with good boys.” I reached for his hand and pressed them on my breast. “Touch them, squeeze them, feel them. I’m giving you full reign, so you know I’m not lying.”
He bit his lip as if touching me pained him then he cupped my breast and flicked his thumb over my nipple. It stood at attention, fully erect. My pussy clenched at the contact, and I shifted in my seat as wetness dampened my skirt. Briefly, I closed my eyes at the sensation, and my breath hitched as he teased my nipple with his fingertips.
When he angled closer, I opened my eyes, aware of his proximity. “I can tell they’re real. Real . . . nice,” he said softly, giving me goose bumps. There was huskiness in his voice, making me think that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words. Maybe Brian was a real bad boy in bed.
***
BRIAN
I pulled back and shifted on the stool, hard as a rock. There was a mid-western cuteness to her overall appearance, but her honesty and her foul mouth made her jump on the hot scale from pepper hot to volcano hot. She was sweet innocence with a dirty mouth, a walking contradiction. God, was she damn sexy.
But as she continued to watch Stiff, annoyance prickled my skin. Maybe it was protectiveness, but I had no idea what she saw in the guy who had his hands all over some other girl.
Her eyebrows scrunched together, and all I wanted to do was smooth out the ridges with my fingers. To my utter happy glee, I watched Stiff stroll to the door and leave with the blonde. But then I saw the look on Kendy’s face.
I had a sudden urge to make her forget about him, to make her laugh again as she had been earlier.
“He’s leaving with her, and he hasn’t even had a chance to look at my outfit.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The very chest I’d been touching a moment ago.
I couldn’t help but laugh silently. I should’ve felt bad that her purpose of the night was walking out the door with another woman, but her reaction amused me. More than that, I knew she deserved better than that loser.
“Hey, if it helps, I think your outfit is hot, and not to mention . . . you look absolutely beautiful tonight,” I said, trying to break her mood.
It was the truth. She had been so focused on Stiff that she hadn’t noticed she had the attention of most men in our vicinity. Stiff was the minority.
I garnered a small smile, but her eyes moved to the door and she frowned again, jutting out her lip even further.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. “Let’s go, pretty girl. I’m taking you for a late night snack. You don’t want to waste a good outfit, and I don’t want you to think your night was all for nothing.”
She peered up at me through her sad blue eyes and hesitated. Her look alone tightened my chest.
Knowing I had to see that smile again, I tucked an escaping strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and gave her a grin. “This is what good boys do; we take damsels in distress to dinner. And I figure, since the man you’re going to marry just walked out with that blonde, you’re in distress.”
She sighed heavily, but linked her arm through mine. “I want some wine with my food because, just so you know . . . there is going to be a lot of whining tonight.”
I pulled her hand tighter around my bicep. “Sounds good. Let me say goodbye to Trey and we’ll get you that wine,” I said, leading us out the door. “Wine makes everything better.”
***
KENDY
We walked into the first grease pit we saw. Greektown Gyros in neon pink letters was written on the auburn awning. My stomach grumbled, even though I’d had dinner before I hit the club.
A waitress led us to a table for two in the back and, as soon as we sat down, I plucked the menu stuck between the wall and the napkin holder. It was printed on the back of a brown bag. Real classy.
I scanned my choices of beverages. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m about to get really wasted.” I was already tipsy, but I planned to drink even more to forget my ruined night.
He chuckled and eyed me over his menu. “Not at all. Shit, it’s the weekend. I might join you.”
The waitress wrote down our order. I got a Miller Lite, and so did Brian. Thankfully, she was quick to hop on it and bring us our bottles.
I chugged that baby down like it was water and slammed it against the table, causing the salt and pepper shakers to teeter back and forth.
Brian smirked. “Slow down. We haven’t even eaten yet.” He reached over and placed his hand on top of mine. Warmth spread through our connection, and I grudgingly pulled away.
I jutted out my chin, the image of Dr. Klein leaving with little Miss Blondie playing in my mind, dampening my mood. “I don’t understand. He’s all prim and proper at work. I know he has to be, but then he goes out and takes the first chick he meets home?”
“How do you know he just met her?” He reached for his bottle and took a big gulp.
“Well, he just left with that . . . that girl.” Good comeback.
“But he walked in with her. How do you know that’s not hi
s girlfriend?”
I widened my eyes at him. “Because I stalk him relentlessly, and not once has a girl called him at work. No one visits him, and everyone who has worked with him for a while has never, ever, ever mentioned a girlfriend.” I reached for the little bit of beer I had left, watching the copper-colored liquid swish against the glass. Placing the bottle under my lips, I closed my eyes and tipped it all the way back. Then, I placed the empty bottle on the table. “I don’t understand him. I’m cute, right?”
He studied me, messing with the fork in his hand.
When I didn’t get a response, I threw him my big puppy dog face.
“Of course, you’re cute, Kendy.” He laughed.
“You’re very convincing.” I rolled my eyes. “Then what’s his problem? I’ve tried everything, all the tricks in my Kendy dating book, and nothing. I didn’t even have a chance to show him my hot-to-trot outfit. Today was my chance, but he blew it out of that club faster than a marathon runner. It didn’t help that my wingman called in sick on me . . . but still.”
I picked up the fork on the table and, in an unladylike fashion, pounded it against the fake wood, causing the water glasses to shake. “Quick, change the subject.” I didn’t want to think about how this Saturday night turned into a total waste of time.
“Good. I don’t want to hear any more about Dr. Stick-up-his-ass or whatever you call him,” he replied, the pinched expression leaving his face.
“Stick-up-his-ass?” I asked, laughing.
“Yeah, I’d say that nickname is appropriate.”
A waiter brought our gyros, breaking our conversation. I watched his eyes drift to my cleavage before placing the food in front of us, and I pulled up my halter-top, a little self-conscious now that we were in a fully lit diner.
“What is it about this guy?” Brian tilted his head, a tinge of concern in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how did he get so lucky to win your attention?”
Lucky?
He thought Dr. Klein was the lucky one? I couldn’t help but soften, a small smile built at his thoughtfulness.
“You’re sweet.” A flush crept up my cheeks as the story only a few people knew wanted to roll out of my mouth. “Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you something?”
“Promise,” he said, but I knew just looking at his big boyish smile that he’d fail.
“Forget it.” I reached for my gyro and took a big bite. Some of the cucumber sauce missed my mouth and slipped down my chin. Picking up my napkin, I dabbed at my face to wipe it off.
“No. Promise.” He raised up his hand as if swearing on the Bible. “And when a Boy Scout swears, he means it.”
I studied his face, which turned serious, giving me the courage to continue. “So . . .” I swallowed the food down, looked toward the plate of French fries next to my gyro, and noted the pita overflowing with onions. “I believe in astrology, the alignment of the stars, fortune telling, and all that jazz.”
His mouth twitched, and I debated stopping, but he motioned with his hands for me to continue. “Go on.”
“I’m a Pisces and—practically everything they say about Pisces is true.” I peered up at him through my lashes. “We’re generous and emotional souls. Kind. Compassionate. I think that’s why my calling truly was to become a nurse.” I picked up my fork and poked it through the meat, which had fallen out of my sandwich. “Well, one summer when I was in high school, Beth and I went to track down this popular psychic in Leon, a couple towns south of our hometown.”
I noted that he hadn’t touched his food. He seemed engrossed in our conversation, which urged me to continue. “Beth didn’t want to get her cards read, but I kind of coerced her to come with me. There was something I needed to ask the psychic.”
I reclined against the chair as I recalled the day. I’d specifically gone to find Evangeline because I’d heard of her and needed to know things—things for my mama, for our family, and mostly for myself. She’d been known to be exceptional with fortune telling.
That hot summer day, one I remembered so vividly, Evangeline told me about my father and foretold my future.
Brian didn’t need to know the specific details, and I didn’t know him well enough to share, but I did tell him one piece of information she’d foretold that day. “She predicted everything about Dr. Hot Pants, and that’s how I know he’s the one.” I nodded once, confirming the prediction.
Brian rubbed at his eyebrow. His lip quivered as if he was holding in laughter. When he composed himself, he turned in my direction, but I could already feel myself warming with irritation. I hardly knew this guy, and I didn’t appreciate him thinking my life was some sort of joke.
“Never mind.” I stuffed my mouth with a couple of fries and started to chew.
“No, go on. I find this interesting. Just because I don’t believe in fortune tellers or astrology doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not true.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled, my mouth full of food.
“Enlighten me, please,” he said sweetly. “I want to know what she said.” His face turned serious again, his eyes no longer amused.
When had I ever cared what other people thought of me anyway?
I dropped my fork, ducked my head toward him, and continued, “This girl was good. No crystal ball or anything. She only read our palms and had Tarot Cards. She predicted I would move to a big city.” His lip twitched again, but I just ignored it. “She predicted I’d major in something that would help people, and that my mama would remarry. She’s not remarried just yet, but I don’t doubt that her relationship with Hank is headed in that direction.” I angled closer to whisper my next revelation. “And she predicted I would marry my soul mate, Dr. Klein. She said, ‘He’ll be the one that makes you smile every day for the rest of your life. Give you the happily-ever-after you deserve.’ As silly as it sounds, I believe her.”
“What did she say exactly?” he asked, seeming truly interested as he leaned in farther. “Did she say, ‘I predict you are going to marry a doctor, his name is Dr. Klein, and he works at New York Cornell Hospital’?”
“Of course not.” I frowned at him. “I mean, when she said I’d move out of Bowlesville to a big city, she didn’t say New York.”
He rested his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers together. “Well, then how do you know she meant him?”
“Because she said I’d really meet my soul mate at work. And she saw papers and moons in my future. She was vague and precise all at once.” I shook my head, knowing that I made no sense. But I’d been there, and I knew with such clarity she’d seen my future. ”She specifically said that I’d marry the man who’d give me the moon,” I whispered.
His face broke out into a sudden smile. “Oh, yeah?”
I could feel my mouth turning up to match his smile. “Yeah, and on my very first day of work, I was already attracted to him. I mean, look at his fine ass. Even being the alpha male that you are, you have to appreciate a fine specimen when you see it.”
“So he reached up in the sky and grabbed the moon and handed it to you, and that’s how you know?” He started to laugh, which made me want to hit him in the face.
“Of course not, dummy. A couple days after I started working, I was looking for something to take notes on when we were at the nurses’ station, and Dr. Klein handed me a kid’s notepad to take notes and on it . . .” I felt my eyes widening, like I was admitting a conspiracy. “Get this . . .” I gazed left and then right. “On the right upper hand corner of the notebook was a moon. A paper notebook. I didn’t understand her prediction until that moment.”
Brian grinned and nodded with understanding then coughed to cover his laugh, eventually breaking into full-blown, uncontrollable laughter. The sound of it rippled through the diner and had everyone turning in our direction.
I narrowed my eyes at him, thoroughly annoyed. “It’s called a sign. Ever heard of it? Look it up in the dictionary.”
He
continued to laugh, holding his stomach as my body temperature rose, the heat reaching the tips of my ears. I’d had enough. I pushed my chair back and stood to leave. I didn’t have to sit here and take this—him laughing at my life, thinking I was some sort of joke. I reached in my purse, grabbed a twenty, and threw it on the table.
Brian instantly calmed down and grabbed my hand. “Hey, where are you going?”
I ripped my hand from his grasp. “Home. Jerk!” I stomped out of the restaurant, never looking back. When the warm summer air hit my skin, sweat beads formed against my forehead.
I hated him for making me feel embarrassed about this. Evangeline’s predictions had come true in succession. Her prophecies were the only hope I had in my own future. It’s the thread that kept me together. I lived with the comfort of knowing how my life would play out.
Swallowing down my emotions, I raised my hand to hail a cab, but the stupid cab traveled past me. I dropped my head and closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe how awful this night had been. Sarah had fallen sick and ditched me. I had wasted all my effort to gain Dr. Klein’s attention but instead he’d left the bar with another girl. The last straw was Brian mocking me.
My lip quivered, followed by tiny tears prickling my eyes, and I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling small and insignificant. After a second, I lifted my head to search for another cab.
I hated that all I wanted to do was go back to my normal town of boring Bowlesville. I’d give anything at this moment to watch movies with my mama and sit in the kitchen, drinking the hot cocoa that she made me every night. I’d thought I wanted the big city lights, but not anymore. I wanted my old life back. I should’ve stayed at that hospital and continued helping old people pee.
As I waited for another damn cab, the first tear fell down my cheek, and I angrily swiped it away. I’d never felt so alone.
Who was I kidding? I wasn’t this big bad girl moving to the big city. I was one big wannabe fake.
FIVE
BRIAN
Well, shit.
I felt like a total douche. I was a douche. She’d told me not to laugh, and that was exactly what I’d done, but I couldn’t help it. Her total belief in what the psychic had said was ridiculous. Sure, I didn’t believe in shit like that, but still, I didn’t have to be rude.