Wilde About Alec

by Cate Faircloth

  “I was not implying that. I only meant that all of our students, scholarship or full scholarship or nothing at all, have invested in this institution to learn, and classroom interruptions make that very difficult.”

  I lean back again and cross my legs in my overly tight skirt. Not because I don’t know my size, but because Puerto Rican thighs don’t make clothing very easy to fit in the right way.

  “I understand. And Damien and I will have a long discussion about this, and I will make sure that he doesn’t do anything like this again.” I glance at him with a pointed look. He grins, and his little dimple that makes me give him whatever he wants shines through.

  I met the kid when I was fifteen, so much older than him with parents who just… weren’t parents. Since I was sixteen, I’ve brought him up myself, and that was that. He’s a heartbreaker, a rule breaker, and the only light of my life. I’m pretty sure he could burn the school down, and I would laugh with him.

  “I would hope not. He has received twelve write-ups and six detentions, and it is only the second term of his freshman year.” Donna shuffles papers on her desk, her wiry fingers swallowed in obnoxious rings.

  “I understand. As I said, we will be having a long talk about this. If that’s all, I’m due in court in an hour.” I glance at my watch for dramatic effect.

  “Oh, did something happen?” Donna asks with a tone that makes me want to flipe en on her.

  “No, I’m an entertainment lawyer. I need to get my client out of a DUI so that she can go on tour next week. Do you want tickets?” I stand, and Damien nudges me as he does. I have very good patience, but he can easily tell when it is running thin.

  “No, thank you. Damien, you know where to report?”

  He scoffs and grabs his bag. I give him another hard look, and he relents. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for your time.” He grins, and I even see Donna falter a little bit. No one can resist his dimple and flashy eyes. I’m surprised there aren’t a bunch of females knocking down the door to our house.

  I rush out of the mahogany office into the even bigger hardwood and mahogany colored hallway. The whole school is a milky brown, rich, money color. I hate it. But it’s the best thing for him. It will be easier for him to get into school even if he isn’t that smart. I got the best grades, was number one in my class, but because I went to school in the projects of downtown LA, it didn’t mean shit to anyone. This… this fancy institute for K-12 education, nationally awarded and recognized with a name that gets people in closed doors, will make life easy for Damien.

  “So, how mad are you?” Damien walks backward in front of me as I clank in my heels down the echoing hall. I guess everyone is in class.

  “I don’t know. I’m late. And symbolism is a tough subject. But you can’t just interrupt the class.”

  “The teacher called on me!” He stretches his hands in defense with a laugh. I can’t help but laugh in response as I pick up the pace.

  The courthouse is thirty minutes away, and I need to be there early. Hell, my client may not even show up. Pop stars are the worst flight risk known to man, second to serial murderers with a passport… maybe. Brentwood is a little far from my office but closer to the courthouse. Still, our morning commute from the only place I could afford could be better.

  “Okay. Then respectfully decline the question. Say ‘sustained’ and be done with it.”

  I smirk, and it makes him smile too. I wish he would stop getting into trouble. I wish I didn’t have to get dragged down here every time he did. But I’m not his parent. I may be his guardian who keeps his life together, but at the end of the day, I’m just the big sister. The much older big sister who finds it hard to find the lines sometimes.

  “All right. Next time. So, who is in trouble?”

  “You.”

  He makes a face.

  I sigh. “You know the girl with the top-ten hit last year? With the bizarre stage act everyone went crazy over.”

  “Maybe. She’s cute?”

  “She practically bought her body, but sure.”

  He smirks. “Then I know who that is. Give her my number.”

  “She’s twenty.”

  “I could pass for twenty.”

  “That would also pass for illegal.”

  I spin around the corner and check my watch again. This school is way too damn big.

  “But… you’re doing all the chores for a month. I’m kicking back and relaxing since you decided to get in trouble again. And now I have to pick you up later after detention,” I add.

  “Relax, I’ll get a ride from Jude.”

  “Oh, he’s in trouble again, too?”

  “He lives in detention… but pretty much.”

  Jude has been his best friend since grade school. They kind of have a little storybook thing going on. Jude is extremely rich. I mean when he’s at our place, he always makes a note to point out that it’s the size of their pool house… guest room. But over the years, he has become less stuck up, and I’ve seen just how good of friends they are. So, I tolerate him. Even when he asks for grass-fed turkey instead of ‘whatever you’ve got, mami.’

  “Okay. So, you come home right after. Come home right after school every day for two weeks.”

  “Ditto.”

  Another turn gets me to the wide front entrance, and I stop to turn and face him.

  “I mean it, Damien. Don’t get in trouble again. If you lose your scholarship, you’ll have to go to public school. Then you’ll grow up bitter and annoyed like me.” I step closer to him—even in my heels, he has one inch on me. In one summer, he’s grown to six feet tall with a deep voice and questionable textures on his boxers. Maybe he isn’t my little brother anymore, but he’ll always be my baby brother.

  “That wouldn’t be so bad, though, the angry Puerto Rican thing is better on women. Fits the stereotype.” He flicks my nose which he knows I hate, but I still manage to smile through it.

  I absently fix a stray hair on him. The plain uniform of khaki pants and white dress shirt with green tie has grown with him since I got him in the school his seventh-grade year, but it still looks good on him. A little man who just needs to stop growing up for a second.

  “Right. Look, I have to go, just be good.”

  “Uh huh. You, too.”

  I can see him laughing even though I’ve already walked away. I practically run to my parking spot and crank up the air conditioning to cool down. It isn’t that it’s hot but that my clothes and certain body type heat up very easily—no space between the thighs, definitely no space between the bust, and because I’m not keen on cutting tacos out of my diet, a little extra around the middle. I tell myself most thirty-year-olds look this way, maybe they had children first but still, most.

  Mainstream music keeps me company on the drive to the courthouse, and when my client’s song comes up, I almost laugh at the irony. It amazes me how these rich and famous people so easily mess shit up for themselves. Polly Wright is lucky to be with such a good agency, and with a killer lawyer like me. Her stage name is known anywhere, but I refuse to say it out loud, even in the hearing when I get her out with a slap on the wrist and nothing more than a fine instead of probation and an even bigger fine.

  I don’t get more than a thank you, but I don’t really mind. It isn’t my job to be friends with them. I took up entertainment law because I knew it would be good for family life. I don’t have a family, I mean Damien life. I don’t want to miss anything, and I want good money, and this does it. In the many years after law school, I danced around enough internships to pay bills and let me figure out what I really wanted to do. Entertainment law won me over after an interview with the senior partner of the law division at the talent firm, Strike Management. I don’t know who all is represented, but I’ve been in court enough to know that almost every genre is in-house. Thinking about what could be waiting for me at my desk is enough to distract me and get lost in the vast parking garage of the building.

  “Great.” I circle aro
und and look, but don’t remember where I parked.

  “Are you lost?”

  The voice is too clean to be a creep, too deep and charming. I turn and find the origin of it coming down the wide expanse of the parking garage. I can’t make out much other than him being tall, wearing jeans and a Henley like he invented them himself.

  “Depends…” I clear my throat and clutch my purse over my shoulder as he gets closer.

  I wonder about stuff like this sometimes and wonder if people actually have movie moments like these. When he gets close enough for me to dive into his smooth gray eyes, I see every inch of his perfectly crafted face even under the unflattering garage lighting—a chiseled, heart-shaped jaw around his full lips curved up into a smile. An unwavering nose between his brow ridge and a strong stature complete his ‘I’ll have you thinking of me all night’ look.

  “On?” His grin widens into a full smirk and creates a dimple suited for nothing other than licking. It must really have been a long time since I’ve had sex because I’m not usually this sexual of a being.

  “Um… nothing.”

  “So, you are lost? You didn’t bring your ticket with you?” He comes closer so that my personal space is officially invaded, but I don’t care.

  “I was in a hurry, but that’s…” He leans in, and I almost lose my footing. Almost. “Neither here nor there.”

  He chuckles a deep rumble I feel despite a passing car.

  “Are you in a hurry now?” He makes a show of looking me over, and I wish I wore my nicer clothes today and not my court clothes. I can’t look too flashy for the judge, so my plain black skirt and dark blue blouse do the trick. But if it were an office day, I would look just as flashy as everyone else. When everything gets paid, and Damien has what he needs, clothes are the only thing I let myself indulge in.

  “No, just need to find my car.” I chew the inside of my lip and shift on my feet, looking around, but my eyes still come right back to the beautiful man in front of me.

  I mean handsome doesn’t even cover it. Sexy, maybe. Handsome… eh. This man is what we hoped to get from the fantasies we wished would come true—his muscles peeking through his shirt, his clavicle raised, and skin a nice tan, don’t look down—yep, pants perfectly filled out too.

  “May I?”

  I make a face when his hand goes right toward my chest but keep from saying anything when I realize he is just reaching for my keys. I’m cursed with an ample chest that doesn’t hide in any type of shirt. But he is looking at me that way, and I’m not stupid enough to ignore or deny it.

  “Sure.” I hand over my Jeep keys and watch him curiously, mostly at how perfect his hands are if I have a thing for hands… maybe I do. They’re perfect, his knuckles dent so that tells me he uses his hands a lot, maybe for work. His forearms are exposed in the way he rolled his sleeves up specked with hair and road-map veins that only distract me.

  He presses the lock button twice, and we both look off to the left where we hear it.

  “I never thought to try that.” I take the key back, and the flicker of something I feel is short-lived.

  “It’s better than letting the alarm go off,” he answers. “Can I walk you to your car?”

  I lick my lips with a quick thought. If he was a creep, I think he would have tried something by now. “Yes. Thank you, um…” I trail off, not knowing his name.

  “Brant Wilde.” He holds his hand out with a smug grin, and I simply shake it in response.

  “Cora Arnold.”

  His brows raise in question for a second, he gets this look I can’t place for a hot second, and then it’s gone. His permanent grin is back, and he releases my hand which suddenly goes cold. In fact, as he slides next to me and walks me to my car, at an ample distance away, I still feel that heat on my left side. Who is this stranger? I wonder to myself and concentrate on not tripping.

  “So, you committed the crime or what?” he asks.

  “Oh yeah. My fifth violation.” I giggle.

  “Let me guess—”

  “Don’t hurt yourself.” I stop him. “I’m a lawyer.”

  I look up to see him raise his brow. “Who can’t find her car? Nice.”

  I scowl but can’t hold back my smile as I shake my head. I don’t think to ask him what he’s doing in a courthouse as I don’t want to disappoint myself too soon. He’s too pretty. He can at least live as a perfect person in my mind because it’s doubtful anything should come of this. I can read his type easily. I read people in the courtroom all the time and during legal meetings, so I know what I’m up against. And this man, Brant… he screams heartbreaker. It’s so evident that I know with every step I shouldn’t be walking with him, but I am.

  When I finally spot the tail end of my car, I walk a little faster, but his long legs carry him in stride easily.

  “This is me. Thank you.” I walk in between my car and the plain sedan next to it.

  He follows and traps me between them.

  “I didn’t take you for this type of ride.” He inspects the black exterior of my car. I only got the Wrangler because it resembles the G-wagon I’m dying to drive one day. But I still like driving on top of everyone else and such.

  “Oh really?” I unlock the door and start the engine up with the key and toss my purse on the passenger side.

  He doesn’t move to leave, and I look up at him again. His eyes are intense, biting deep down into a part of me that doesn’t know how to look away.

  “Yeah. But I accept that I was wrong.”

  “Oh, you do?” I laugh and roll my eyes.

  Brant smirked and steps even closer to me. Personal space gone again, my senses are invaded by his strong scent I can’t place for anything. I’ve been around so many colognes in my line of work, but not this—a strong tone of masculine embers that almost make me dizzy.

  “Right on. How about I take you to dinner tonight? If you don’t lose your car between now and seven o clock.”

  I almost gape but smile back instead. I’m not going to get into thinking I’m out of his league. I know I’m beautiful, people don’t take me seriously because of how beautiful they say or think I am before I can even prove myself. So he may just want to get in my pants, call it a conquest, and be done with it, but I can’t honestly say I’m not thinking of doing the same.

  “A date?”

  “Yeah, a date. But I’ll let you meet me there so that you can storm out at any time, no Dutch shit either.”

  A complimentary meal. A sexy man… it isn’t rocket science.

  “Okay then.” I rest my hand on my hip as I cock my head to the side and watch his smile light up his face.

  “Phone, please.” He holds out that fantastic hand, and I hold his gaze as I blindly get my phone from my purse.

  His contact is put in, and a text comes in a few seconds later.

  “Meet me there at seven. It was really nice to meet you, Cora.” His eyes blaze over my body, and I’m keyed up all over again at that and the way my name rolls of his tongue like a new hit single.

  “You, too.” I glance down at the text. “This looks like a home address.” I say, as he backs away with his smug grin.

  “What, that’s a deal breaker?”

  I swallow and loosen my grin. He isn’t wrong… and I think for a comeback, but he is already gone.

  He isn’t wrong at all.

  End of sneak peek – Wilde About Brant – The Brothers Wilde Series Book Two. Available on Amazon August 31, 2018!

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  Acknowledgments

 
; I would personally like to thank all my new readers for taking a chance on me. I hope you enjoy this book and the series following. To the team at Prism Heart Press, I can’t thank everyone enough for the chance to share my words with the world, here’s to many more books together.

  About the Author

  I have been a romantic all my life enjoying books, movies, television, and anything that brings happiness into the world. Though I love reading and avoiding daily responsibilities, I am also an undergraduate at the University of Iowa, a flagship university for writing and creative freedom. I love connecting with all my readers and sharing the stories that dance around in my head.