by MK Schiller
Lanie sighed. They’d had this argument since Cassie had shown up on her doorstep broke and homeless six months ago, claiming she needed a place to stay for a few weeks. Lanie tried to encourage her to live with their mother, who no doubt would love to have her favorite daughter under her roof. Cassie shunned the idea immediately, stating she was too old to live off her mother. Funny, she found nothing odd in living off her sister. Lanie contemplated kicking her out but found it difficult. She loved her sister unconditionally, despite all her nastiness. She knew Cassie loved her too, if not unconditionally, then unconventionally—something Lanie had accepted a long time ago.
“We’ve been over this. This is my room as long as I’m paying the rent.”
“I help out,” Cassie said with her signature pout. If the measly sum that was barely enough to pay the cable bill could be considered helping out, then Cassie was right. Still, she did pay something, and it wasn’t like she could afford much more working part-time at a makeup store. “It’s so unfair that Phillip kicked me out. Men have such double standards. It’s not like he wasn’t cheating.”
Lanie turned to her sister, shocked to hear such a ludicrous statement even from her. “Cassie, he was cheating with you on his wife. It’s not a valid argument.”
“That’s my point. He was cheating on her, and I cheated on him. You’d think he’d forgive me. Plus, I know he was still fucking her, so in a way he was cheating on me too.”
Lanie shrugged, knowing it was useless to argue. The girl’s sense of entitlement cast a wider net than most CEOs’ golden parachutes. Lanie’s mother had insisted her father give both sisters the same amount in a trust fund, although, if her mother really had it her way, Lanie would have received nothing. Lanie used her funds for college and law school. Cassie spent her money on luxurious clothes, extravagant parties, and expensive trips. By the time Lanie graduated Harvard Law School, Cassie was penniless.
She’d spent the last few years searching for something…or rather someone to replace that missing income. Phillip seemed like the perfect man. He was rich, handsome, and most importantly, married. Like all her other jobs, Cassie only had to work part-time. He put her up in a lavish Lake Shore Drive apartment and provided her with an expensive car and a trainer who came three times a week to help her stay in shape. Unfortunately, Phillip decided to drop in on one of their exercise sessions, and even though the trainer was providing an intense workout, it was in no way related to Pilates.
“And my point is that you need to remove your items from my closet tonight.”
Cassie rolled her eyes but didn’t reply. “How much does Brad make?”
At the sound of Brad’s name, Lanie felt another stab of guilt penetrate her gut. Not for Cassie this time, but for Brad. She’d given Brad casual hints about Cassie’s past, but it was obvious he was too preoccupied with her good looks to notice anything else. Lanie decided it was best to let Brad find out on his own. Any more meddling from her would be construed as malicious and manipulative. Plus, she owed her sister that loyalty, and Lanie had no reason to believe Cassie was cheating on him…yet. No, Lanie would do what she did best. She’d fade into the background and wait.
“I have no idea. The firm frowns on any salary discussions, not that I would ask him.”
“Just tell me what you make then. It has to be similar.”
Lanie sighed. “I can’t do that either.” Lanie caught her voice wavering as she thought about Brad. It was funny how different he and Kyle were. Brad was traditionally handsome, beautiful even, with golden locks, twinkling blue eyes, and a smile that could disarm the most hostile judge. It was no wonder that he too would most likely make partner before the crucial seventh year, the year the firm usually awarded those honors.
“I told you what I make,” Cassie said.
Lanie stifled her laugh. Her sister’s employer advertised their hourly pay scale in the store window. It wasn’t exactly privileged information.
Cassie stood and walked over to the dresser where Lanie’s laptop was set up. She gasped. Lanie winced, realizing she’d never logged out of the newspapers site.
“This is Kyle Manchester?” Cassie asked.
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never met him. He’s hot.”
“He’s very nice looking.”
“Too bad he’s Brad’s friend.”
Lanie turned to look at her sister, who was busy studying Kyle’s profile photos. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind working out with him,” Cassie said with a sly wink at Lanie.
“Brad is a very good man, Cassie.”
The smile slid off Cassie’s face, replaced by a glaring scowl. “Did I say he wasn’t?”
“It’s just that you keep bringing up other men.”
“I’m just talking. That’s what girls do, Lanie, not that you’d know.” Cassie studied Kyle’s picture again, clicking on the other links in his profile. “Besides, journalists don’t make as much as lawyers, do they?”
This was Cassie’s attempt at gaining some insight into Brad’s salary again. “There are more important things than money.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You make a ton.” Cassie acted as if Lanie had been handed her job. It was funny since they’d both had the same opportunities. In fact, Cassie had a better childhood in many ways. But her sister enjoyed the role of victim. It was one she was destined to play.
“Enough to support us,” Lanie replied quietly. The sarcasm of the statement was lost on Cassie, who was too busy sulking.
“You’re making me feel guilty, and I came in here to help you.” Cassie was like a grenade with a precarious loose clip—always ready to go off. Brad hadn’t seen this side yet because she was good at hiding her meanness when it served her, but it would come out eventually. Right now, Lanie needed to disengage the explosive before it detonated.
“If you really want to help me, can you do my hair?” Lanie asked with an apologetic smile.
Cassie strolled over to the vanity to place her dainty, perfectly manicured hand on Lanie’s shoulders. “I don’t have time, but I’m going to do you one better. I’ll give you some sisterly advice.”
Lanie sucked in a deep breath, mentally shielding herself from what was coming. No doubt, it would be the same guidance she’d heard her whole life from her mother and Cassie.
“You are a two.”
Lanie jerked her head in surprise. This was a new tactic. “A two?”
“Yes, a two on the looks scale.”
“So how would someone like me strive for a higher number?” Lanie knew where this was heading, but she was so used to it she treated it like a joke. It was too depressing to defend her physical appearance or get upset with Cassie. Her sister enjoyed those responses too much, so it just got easier to play along.
“That’s the issue, Lanie,” Cassie said as if Lanie were a small child incapable of understanding the mathematical difference between two and ten. “I see it every day at my job when women think a tube of lipstick or pressed powder will transform them. The bottom line is a two can become a three, maybe even a four, but a two will never be a ten.”
Lanie raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in a mock gesture of confusion. “And why is that?”
“Because tens are born, not made. I’m a ten, Brad’s a ten, and this Kyle Manchester is definitely a high ten, but you are not.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“I think you should cancel tonight, because if it’s one thing I’ve learned, a two will never catch a ten. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Lanie smiled with the fake sweetness she’d learned as a little girl, happy that Cassie’s advice had killed the last pangs of guilt and renewed her confidence in going through with the date. “Thanks for the advice. It’s really helped me make up my mind.”
Cassie mimicked Lanie’s smile, hugging her. “What are sisters for?”
Chapter Three
>
Kyle sat in a booth at Duggan’s waiting impatiently for Lanie Carmichael. The sooner she got here, the sooner this ordeal would be over. Kyle dreaded this meeting-slash-date, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, she was a fan, and the evening might consist of her gushing and complimenting him. That would be enjoyable at least, and then he’d head over to the fiery redhead’s place after. Sarah or Suzie or something. He’d hit the jackpot with her. She was a yoga instructor and super flexible. It was too bad he’d have to stop answering her texts soon. She was already looking at him with those “let’s nest” eyes. It was a shame since he’d only slept with her twice. He bet Lanie would look at him with those eyes on first sight.
He winced when he saw the tall, frumpy woman looking around the room. Please, don’t be Lanie Carmichael. A tall blonde in a miniskirt bumped her and headed his way. Thank God! Brad was a true friend, Kyle thought. The blonde returned his smile, but instead of taking a seat, she walked right past him. Kyle followed her path, enjoying the view but also mourning it. He turned back to see Tall Frumpy taking slow, steady steps toward him and smiling idiotically. She was dressed in an ill-fitting beige suit made up of so many layers Kyle wondered if he could even accurately guess her bra size. Probably an A or maybe B. She had on a navy coat in a man’s cut. Underneath the coat, there appeared to be a mock turtleneck, a vest, a blazer, and the most matronly skirt he’d ever seen, all in various shades of beige. Her heels even looked orthopedic if that was possible. She stood in front of him, holding out her hand like a panting puppy wanting to be petted.
“Hi, Kyle. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Lanie Carmichael.” She shook his hand firmly. Her hands were small, but she had a man’s grip for sure. She laid her navy coat and the huge purse that was the size of a small suitcase in the seat across from him. Then she shocked Kyle by sliding in next to him instead of opposite him. Yep, definitely stalker, Kyle thought miserably, downing his whiskey. Kyle stared at her in disbelief, but she just kept smiling like it was natural to sit next to him.
“What are you drinking?” he finally asked her.
“I think I’ll have a virgin piña colada.” Kyle cocked his eyebrow at her choice of drink. This woman was at least twenty-one…although she could have been fifty-one in that getup. Why was she ordering a virgin drink? Was she an alcoholic? Had Brad set him up with a frumpy, stalker lush?
As Kyle placed their drink order, he wondered if it was rude to ask her to order at the same time. The sooner they ate, the sooner he could test just how far back the flexible yoga instructor’s legs could go.
“So you work with Brad?” Kyle asked in a lame attempt at conversation.
“Yes. We’re both juniors at our firm. I’ll make partner this year. Brad probably will in two years.” Jesus, is that an insult to Brad? How could he describe this girl as shy? She was very full of herself.
“That’s great. So do you like it?” He didn’t know why, but her odd demeanor was interesting.
She adjusted the mop of curly auburn hair that threatened to spring free of the tight bun on top of her head. “I’m good at it. It’s what I’m meant to do.”
“Why? Do you like fighting for the little guy and getting justice?” Kyle asked somewhat mockingly.
Lanie took a long sip of her drink, followed by a deep breath. “No, it’s not my job to get justice for people. That’s what the courts do.”
“Then what’s your job?”
“Winning.”
“And do you win often, Lanie?”
She shrugged and gave him a crooked grin, which actually softened her harsh features. “More often than not. That’s why I’m on the fast track.” Damn, she had a high opinion of herself. Knocking her down a few pegs would be delivering his own brand of justice.
“Why do you win so much?”
“Preparation and hard work…but mostly, I’m a good observer.” Kyle bit his lip, trying to hold in his smirk. “It’s true. You have to know people to understand what they will or won’t accept. Most of my cases don’t even make it to court. I’m able to settle them with tactical negotiation.”
“So you know people?” Kyle asked, thinking it would be fun to make this girl falter a little.
“Most of the time, although some are easier to read than others.” The waitress came back to get their orders. Kyle ordered his usual burger, but he was shocked again when Lanie ordered the ribs. What kind of girl ordered the messiest menu item on the first date? It occurred to Kyle that all they had talked about was her. Was Brad was so in love with his new girlfriend that he lost his mind? In whose reality did this girl have a crush on him? She wasn’t just socially awkward. That was an understatement. What’s more, she was egotistical. Shy? That was an outright lie.
“Am I easy to read, Lanie?” he asked, hoping it would make her uncomfortable. She turned to him, smiling and adjusting her huge black-rimmed spectacles.
“You’re definitely on the easy end of the readability scale.”
“Please, don’t keep me in suspense. I would love a demonstration of your skills.”
“Look, I know this is a pity date. You don’t have to try so hard to make small talk.”
Kyle’s cynical grin disappeared as his jaw dropped at her blunt response. This was the weirdest date he’d ever had. It was even stranger than the psychic who’d insisted on feeling his aura. At least that ended in hot sex when he’d showed her right where his aura was. A sudden crazy thought occurred to him, and he glared at her. “Wait a minute. A pity date for whom?” With her haughty attitude, this girl might think she was doing him a favor.
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh, don’t be offended. It’s very evident that you’re taking me out in pity.”
“I’m glad your powers of observation are as astute as you claim, Lanie,” Kyle retorted without a care that he was insulting her.
“They are. For example, I knew you wouldn’t find me attractive. I’m mousy and manly at the same time.”
Damn…how many times would her candid statements stun him? Usually when girls made disparaging remarks about their looks, they expected Kyle to correct them with a reassuring “you’re gorgeous, baby” or “you have a great body.” But Lanie didn’t expect him to boost her self-esteem. She didn’t want it. Didn’t need it. Her matter-of-fact statement made her even more puzzling.
“How do you know that?”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, but I don’t think I looked at you with a scowl or anything.” She set the pace with her outspoken honesty, so he followed the path.
“Well, besides the obvious chasm between our looks, it’s your manner. You asked me out by text message. You didn’t pick me up at my house but had me meet you here”—she gestured around the room—“a sports bar, for God’s sake.” Their food came, and Lanie wasted no time digging in to her ribs.
“This is a restaurant. I think that is evident by the platter of meat before you,” Kyle said, nodding toward Lanie’s plate.
“It’s a restaurant with fifteen flat-screen TVs, each showing a different sport. They serve drinks on cardboard coasters featuring trivia. And the servers wear football jerseys and baseball hats. In my book, that’s a sports bar.”
“You’re crazy blunt. If you don’t like my choice, please feel free to leave.”
“I love it.”
“Well then, why are you so offended?”
“Who said I was offended? It’s just very obvious that you’re totally put off by me in every way.”
“Not every way. Your handshake is firm.”
She laughed at his remark, which Kyle had meant as insulting. “Funny.”
“Okay, observant one, I’m dying to know…why the hell did you agree to meet me if you knew I’d be turned off by you? It’s not the kind of impression you aim for on a date, in case you didn’t know. Brad told me you were a fan of mine.”
“Oh, I am. I enjoy your stories, but I didn’t want to meet you to impress you, sexually or otherwise. I sure as hell didn�
��t come here to flatter your inflated ego, if that’s what you were thinking,” she replied, taking intermittent breaks to lick the barbecue sauce from her fingers.
“Please enlighten me then. Why are you here?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re paying attention to me.”
“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”
“Talking and paying attention are two different things, but I suspect you know that. You have one eye on the football game, which the Bears are going to lose, by the way. And the other is on the leggy blonde in the white miniskirt at the bar.” It was true, but Kyle was so surprised by her accuracy that he didn’t even feel guilty about it.
“Well, it’s kind of hard to keep my eye on you when you’re sitting right next to me. And the Bears have a good shot here.”
“Oh, I’m not insulted. I sat next to you because I want to watch the game too. And the Bears are going to lose because they really need a field goal right now, but their kicker sustained an injury during the last game that he hasn’t recovered from.”
He found her knowledge of football slightly disconcerting. He wanted to dislike her, but it was difficult when they had something in common. She wiped her chin, removing the residue of sauce, and turned to Kyle. He didn’t meet her gaze for fear he couldn’t maintain the blank expression on his face. “I don’t mind that you’re distracted. I’m sure you have to multitask at your job too, but I do ask that you keep at least one of your eyes on me. So choose. Leggy blonde or football game.”
Kyle grinned, wondering if it was even possible to make this girl uncomfortable. He turned to give her his full attention. He was pleased to find he could stare at Lanie and still make out the blonde’s glorious backside from this position.
She followed his gaze. “Oh, so you chose the blonde? You must like sex more than sports.”
“Sex is a sport. And since you’re watching the game, you can tell me the score. I’m better at delegating than multitasking. So, Lanie Carmichael, if you’re not here to gush over me or seduce me, then why the hell are you here ruining my perfectly good view of a leggy blonde?” There, that ought to do it. Now she’ll cry, and it will be amusing in a way. To his amazement, she just smiled her crooked smile and dug into another rib.