The Do-Over

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The Do-Over Page 12

by MK Schiller


  * * * *

  The next morning, Kyle awoke alone in the bed. He immediately felt cold without Lanie’s presence in his arms. She came out of the bathroom a minute later, freshly showered and dressed for work. She sat on the edge of the bed and tousled his hair, which Kyle thought was a good sign.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he said sleepily.

  “Hi, there. Coffee’s ready.”

  “How do you feel, Lanie?”

  She looked down sheepishly. “I’m fine. Thanks for taking care of me. I don’t think I’ll drink like that again.”

  He nodded. “Probably a wise idea. It’s all right to have a few drinks. It’s not a great idea to drink like a sailor on shore leave, which is what you were doing. You really are an all-or-nothing kind of girl, huh?”

  “I understand the difference, Kyle. I was just emotional and thought maybe it would dull the sting.”

  Kyle was immediately contrite. After all, he was the one who’d caused the sting in the first place. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, but I have to know. Did we have sex last night?”

  Kyle sat straight up in the bed, shaking his head wildly. “No, we didn’t.”

  She relaxed her shoulders and sighed. “Oh, that’s a relief.”

  Kyle did his best to hide his disappointment. “Why? Because you changed your mind?”

  She gave him a huge smile. “No, silly, because it would be a shame if I couldn’t remember my first time.” This time Kyle sighed, releasing the anxiety that had been building. “And I would be very disappointed in you.”

  “Because I would have taken advantage of you when you were drunk?”

  “No, because it would mean you weren’t memorable,” she said and giggled.

  “Oh, you’re a smart-ass.” He grabbed her by the waist and rolled her onto the bed with him. She protested but giggled louder.

  He laid her down and kissed her. The roses, lemons, and oranges were accompanied by a hint of mint this morning, and it was driving him wild.

  “Stop, Kyle. I have to get to work.”

  He pushed himself up, unable to conceal his huge grin but hoping he was concealing the other part of him that was getting larger. “Lanie, I was thinking. You deserve a special night for this. It only happens once. Will you give me another do-over?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, how about if I take you out to a nice dinner tonight? We can dress up and then go back to my place. It’s Friday. You can spend the night, and we won’t be disturbed.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “We can pretend we’re a real couple, in a relationship.”

  “Kyle, isn’t that what we’re doing?”

  He leaned his head against her neck. “Yeah, you’re right, but I mean to each other. I want to give you a great night. A memorable one. Will you let me?”

  “I would like that,” Lanie said.

  “It’s a date then.” Kyle fought against the little voice in his head, the subconscious, annoying one that said, You’re only fooling yourself.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kyle walked nervously to Lanie’s door that night. His desire to make her first experience pleasant was causing him to question his own abilities, which he normally took for granted. He knew he was a very good lover, but he could be rough at times. It worked for him because the girls he associated with liked that. Lanie was different, and he would have to tone down his own needs, which would be difficult considering what she did to him.

  He’d also had the Cassie-gate experience last night. He had thought hard about telling Brad or Lanie. Lanie had said Cassie would cheat on Brad eventually, but she wouldn’t tell Brad. She wouldn’t manipulate. Kyle thought of telling Brad, but if he ended things with Cassie, would Brad finally notice Lanie? That was the last thing Kyle wanted. He was enjoying the time he spent with Lanie. It wasn’t all sexual. He liked her genuine personality and sense of humor. In the end, Kyle decided to remain silent, justifying it by telling himself it wasn’t his place to tell. It was Brad’s own fault he was so imperceptive about the malicious girl he was dating.

  Cassie answered, giving him what could only be described as a warning look. She sat down on Brad’s lap at the dining table and regarded Kyle cautiously.

  “Lanie’s still getting ready,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “So where are you kids off to tonight?” Brad asked.

  “We’re going to the Marksman.” Kyle smirked at Cassie’s surprised gasp.

  “How did you get reservations? I thought the hotel and restaurant were booked solid for a month,” Cassie remarked with clear jealousy.

  “I called in a favor.” Kyle had called the food critic at the paper, who had given them a glowing review, the reason the new hotel was experiencing such an influx of bookings.

  “Nice going, Manchester. Now I’m going to have to compete,” Brad said and kissed Cassie on the cheek. It did nothing to alleviate her pout. Oh, yes, Brad had chosen as high maintenance as he could get.

  Lanie came out then, and Kyle could no longer concentrate on Brad and Cassie’s little drama. She looked beautiful in a shimmery black sleeveless dress. The top covered her chest completely but revealed her slim arms and voluptuous curves. Kyle swallowed hard, noticing the sexy high heels she wore that perfectly capped her long stems.

  “Wow, Lanie, you look great,” Brad said. Kyle was irked that Brad was the first to compliment her, but he was having a hard time finding his voice. She was drop-dead gorgeous, and he wondered how he’d been so mistaken about her obvious beauty.

  “Thanks, Brad,” she replied but kept her gold-colored eyes on Kyle.

  Cassie had another reaction. She actually chortled. “Lanie, you can’t wear those shoes.” She ran to the closet and came out with the black sensible shoes Lanie usually wore. “Wear these. You’re so clumsy that you’re just asking to slip and fall.”

  Kyle walked past Cassie to help Lanie with her coat. “Your concern is duly noted, but I have no intention of letting her fall.” Kyle put Lanie’s overnight bag on his shoulder and guided her out the door with his hand on the small of her back before Cassie could say anything else.

  The Marksman Hotel restaurant was extravagant with Murano glass chandeliers, waiters in white gloves, and many gleaming silver candelabra. It was reminiscent of another era, perhaps one when Lanie’s innocence and grace would be welcomed. She had a natural, delicate beauty that was rare in today’s age.

  “Kyle, this is lovely,” Lanie said, staring at the impressive surroundings.

  “You’re lovely.” She blushed and took a sip of water from the crystal goblet.

  “Do you want champagne tonight? One or two glasses might relax you.”

  She shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  He signaled for the waiter and ordered a bottle. “Don’t start drinking like a sailor again, or I’ll have to cut you off.”

  “Aye-aye, sir,” Lanie said, saluting him.

  “You look gorgeous, Lanie.”

  “Oh? I don’t look like I’m wearing a burka tonight?”

  “Definitely not.” He lifted his water goblet to toast her.

  “The woman at the next table is making eyes at you,” Lanie said, whispering conspiratorially.

  “Really? What does she make them out of? Cloth? Paper?”

  “Very funny. She’s really quite beautiful,” Lanie replied, pursing her lips and clutching the stem of her glass so hard that it shook in her hands. Is Lanie jealous? Welcome to my world, sister. “I’m already with the most beautiful woman here,” he said and meant it.

  Lanie looked down. “You don’t have to lay it on so thick, you know. I’m going to sleep with you.”

  “I haven’t laid anything on you…yet.” He could tell she didn’t believe him, so as usual he made a joke. Lanie was such an enigma, a strong pushover, vocal but shy, self-assured and self-deprecating.

  The waiter came with the champagne glasses. “I’ll have the veal Oscar and the lad
y will have the salmon salad.” Kyle never ordered for his dates, but he wanted to see Lanie’s reaction. Would the pushover in her let him get away with it?

  “The lady will most certainly not,” she replied haughtily. “I’ll have the seared duck with chutney reduction.”

  The waiter glanced at Kyle nervously. Kyle nodded at him. “I stand corrected.”

  When he left, Lanie turned to Kyle, her brows knit together in irritation. “Why did you order for me?”

  “Why didn’t you let me?”

  “Because it’s rude and pretentious, and I know what I want.”

  “I was wondering what you would do.”

  “You’re testing me? Why?” She looked hurt, but Kyle could see something else in her rigid body language—anger, an emotion that just made her more beautiful in Kyle’s opinion. Unfortunately, it was always aimed at him.

  “I was wondering if you would let me push you around like everyone else,” he replied before taking a sip from his champagne.

  “Don’t presume to know me. I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re trying to figure me out. You’re judging me! I don’t want your judgment, and most of all…I don’t need your pity.”

  “I don’t pity you, Lanie.”

  “That’s exactly what you’re doing. I see it in your eyes. It’s more prevalent every time we’re together. I’m not a pushover, but please enlighten me on your theory. Tell me, Freud. Since you have such keen analytical skills, give me an example.”

  “You have to admit that you allow people to treat you…well, snidely.”

  “Snidely? Are you seriously using that word? Like who, Kyle? And don’t tell me my sister because that one’s too easy.”

  “Calm down. Just forget about it.” Kyle desperately wished he had kept his mouth shut. The last thing he had envisioned was a fight.

  “I am calm, but I won’t back down. You need to back up. Back up your thesis, mister. I need supporting evidence here.”

  “Fine. Your assistant, for one.”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s kind of rude to you.”

  “There’s no ‘kind of’ about it. She is rude. Know what else? Mr. White, the managing partner in my firm, is her father. I didn’t get to pick my assistant. If you think her comments bother me, rest assured they don’t. If they bother you, then you need to get over it. We have a deal. I tolerate her and she does a minimal amount of work for me. And you know why that is, Kyle Manchester?”

  Kyle swallowed audibly. Lanie was really worked up. “Why?”

  “Because I know how to play the game.”

  They were quiet for a moment until their food came. Lanie cut up her duck in precise, tiny pieces, like she was projecting her rage on it. Kyle felt sorry for the duck. “Lanie, I didn’t mean to—“

  “To what, Kyle? To defend me? To judge me? I’m not some playground kid who’s being bullied. You don’t need to protect me. I’m a smart, independent woman who understands how the game is played,” she said, waving her fork around dramatically.

  “I know you’re smart.”

  “Give me another example.”

  “I don’t want to do this.”

  “You started it. We’re going to finish it.”

  “Fine. That woman with the whole party thing at your office.”

  Lanie laughed cynically. “Magda? You think Magda is pushing me around? She’s like that to every woman in the office. Maybe you’d see that if you got your head out of your ass. It’s because she’s insecure. You know why? Because she’s Mr. Whitlow’s mistress. Her job is to plan parties and golf outings, which she does very well when she’s not spreading gossip or her legs. Got it?”

  Kyle adjusted his tie, wondering if the temperature had risen in the restaurant. “Maybe you shouldn’t have any more to drink, sweetheart.”

  “I’ve hardly had any. You know why I have the Hayes case? It’s not something they give an associate like me, but I have it. Know why?”

  “Because you know how to play the game?”

  She nodded, but her face didn’t soften.

  “Now let’s talk about the five-hundred-pound gorilla in the room,” she said, continuing to wave her fork wildly.

  “Lanie—“

  “No, I’m not done. Let’s talk about my sister. You think I don’t know my sister doesn’t treat me well? I know that.”

  “Then why do you tolerate it?”

  “Because she’s my family, and she needs me. Look, you’re lucky. Your sister is nice. Mine is not. You don’t get to choose your family.”

  “You can choose to associate with them or not. You’re an adult.”

  “I don’t work that way, Kyle. I will never abandon her.” She stared at him, shaking her head. “If you think you’re doing some charity work with me…something altruistic by taking pity on poor little Lanie, get over it now, mister—” Her fork flew right out of her hand, past Kyle’s shoulder. She sat there for a second staring disbelievingly at her empty hand. Then she narrowed her eyes at Kyle and snatched the fork out of his hand and used it.

  “That’s my fork, Lanie.”

  “Fork you, Kyle,” she said and took a bite of her duck, chewing it with deliberate slowness.

  “Fork yourself, Lanie,” he replied, irritated by her rant.

  She got quiet for a minute, swallowed, and then said barely above a whisper, “I tried, but it didn’t work. That’s why I have you.”

  He stared at her in disbelief and then burst into laughter. She joined him. Soon they were both laughing like loons and drawing more attention from nearby tables. He leaned into the table, taking her hand. “I want to fork the hell out of you, baby. Trust me, it’s completely selfish, and there’s nothing altruistic about it.”

  “Keep it that way,” she said, rewarding him with a sexy smile.

  Lanie never ceased to surprise him. Her feistiness was unexpected, but a complete turn-on. Oh yeah, it’s going to be a forking fabulous night, Kyle thought.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lanie stared at the breathtaking city view from his balcony. Like him, his home was very masculine but comfortable too. The soft-gray walls were punctuated by wooden bookshelves housing classic novels from Dickens to Vonnegut. She noted he had a copy of the Kama Sutra as well. Black-and-white photos of the city hung in a neat line on the long wall. A sumptuous chenille sofa stretched out in front of a plasma television. Her favorite thing was the view though. There was a small grill on the balcony and a potted plant that had seen better days.

  He came behind her and kissed her shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

  “Your apartment is nice. It’s different than what I thought it would be.”

  “What were you thinking?” he asked, putting his arms around her to bring her back against his chest.

  “I don’t know…fuzzy handcuffs, leopard prints, posters of girls posing in their bikinis on sports cars.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, that would make sense…if I were sixteen and living in the seventies.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I bet the girls like it.”

  He spun her around. “A few girls have been in here, but no one has spent the night. You’re special that way.”

  “Well, I’ve never invited anyone in here,” she said, gesturing to her lower half, “so you’re special too.” Kyle laughed and pulled her toward him, embracing her tightly.

  “Yes, I am,” he said. “Do you like the view?”

  “It’s spectacular.”

  “It is now that you’re here.” She yelped in surprise when he picked her up in a fireman’s carry and took her to the bedroom. He carried her with ease, striding confidently.

  He put her down next to the bed, looking at her with hooded eyes. “You’re still sure?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but can we add one more rule?”

  “Of course. It’s an open-ended contract.”

  She sighed. “We’re friends now, and I really valu
e that. I don’t want to jeopardize it by…um, fucking it up…literally. Know what I mean?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I know exactly what you mean, and I agree we can’t fuck this up.” He pressed against her, trailing kisses down her neck. “I need to add a rule too. You know how I said you can think about Brad when you’re with me?”

  “Yes, I recall that.” She was a little breathless. Kyle’s heated breath against her ear made her damp.

  “Please don’t. It’s majorly screwing with my head.”

  She was shocked by his request, especially since the things he did to her made it very difficult to think at all. She gently pushed him away from her, blinking rapidly at him. “I’ve never done that. When I’m with you, I don’t think of anyone but you.”

  A goofy grin spread on his face. “Not even Johnny Castle?”

  “Nope. Do you think of Julia Roberts?”

  “I only think about Lanie Carmichael and what I want to do with her…and to her.” He leaned in and unzipped her dress. She cursed her body for tensing, knowing he felt it. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Can you turn off the lights?”

  “If it makes you more comfortable, I will, but I’d rather not. Your body’s beautiful, Lanie. I want to look at it.”

  She shrugged and looked down. “I guess you’ve seen the worst anyway.”

  He tilted her chin so she was looking at his utterly perplexed expression. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged off her dress. “You took off my robe that night.”

  Then he figured it out. “Are you talking about this, sweetheart?” he said, tracing her scar, and her flesh quivered at his touch.

 

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