by Ashley Jade
They all stare at me wide-eyed like I've gone mad.
They're not wrong. I have and I am.
Asher starts to speak, but Landon cuts him off. “Kit has a point...sort of. I can't see your brother ditching his unborn child. There's no way he's gone for good.”
Asher tries to speak again, but this time, it's Breslin who interjects. “Preston isn't an upstanding citizen by any stretch, but he wouldn't abandon his kid. He'll definitely be back in town in time for the birth.”
Asher raises an eyebrow, appearing confused. “What the hell are the three of you smoking? It's not his baby.”
I look at Breslin and Landon who both seem as baffled as I am.
“It's not?” Breslin questions at the same time I say, “It's his baby. Trust me.”
Asher shakes his head. “No, it's not.”
Breslin's gaze ping-pongs between us. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I yell at the same time Asher says, “Positive.”
Breslin and Landon exchange a glance.
“That really clears things up,” Landon mumbles.
Breslin takes a sip of her drink and sighs. “Okay, obviously we need to get to the bottom of this.”
Landon nods. “Asher, you go first, why are you sure the baby isn't his?”
Asher leans back in his seat and opens his arms wide, looking at all of us. “Well, for starters, my brother gets more ass than a toilet seat. He was already having threesomes by the time I got my first hand job from Breslin.”
I ignore the strange ache in my chest as Breslin chokes on her drink and Landon pinches the bridge of his nose. “We have got to work on your explanation skills. What does any of that have to do with him not being the father?”
“Condoms,” Asher exclaims. “My brother doesn't have sex without them ever. Our father was super strict about us not knocking anyone up before we turned thirty. Preston always uses them, and I know he used them with Becca because he told me he did. He might have liked her at one point, but he knew better than to trust her.”
I roll my eyes. “Right, because condoms never tear or malfunction.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Condoms or not, your brother confirmed the baby was his while we were trapped in the elevator.”
Asher shrugs. “Well, then he lied to you for some reason. Probably because he didn't want you to freak when you figured out that Becca not only cheated on you with him but some random guy too while confined in a small space together.” He twirls a finger around his head. “Can't say I blame him, you are kind of crazy.”
I swear there must be something in the Holden DNA that is specifically designed to piss me off. “Or maybe he lied to you so you wouldn't give him shit about abandoning his kid before he left town, ever think of that?” I throw my hands up. “Oh wait, of course not...because condoms. Swear to God, people like you are the reason we have warning labels.”
“Enough, Kit,” Breslin grits through her teeth as Landon narrows his eyes at me.
Asher leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, my brother isn't exactly a saint, and I don't understand why he does half the shit he does most of the time, but he wouldn't do that. He was devastated when the paternity results came back and he found out the baby wasn't his. I don't think I've ever seen him so upset.”
“Paternity results?” I whisper, or at least I think I do. All I can hear is my pulse drumming in my ears as I replay the last part of our conversation in the elevator.
“And that right there is what you should have started with, Asher,” Landon says as I close my eyes.
It doesn't make any sense...at all. Why would he let me believe Becca's lie instead of telling me the truth? And why would he hook up with her again after she lied to him about being the father?
I take a step back as the realization hits me like a hot pan to the face.
The arrows only point to one direction. Preston did all that...to hurt me.
Worse than hurt me—he wanted to destroy me.
It's also why he kissed me. He wanted me to question my sexuality and have feelings for him. This way, my fall would be that much harder.
I trusted him.
I try to breathe past the tsunami of pain that floods my chest, but I can't. Becca's betrayal was an undertow. But Preston's is a riptide...and it's pulling me under.
I'm drowning, just like he wanted me to.
I need to get out of here.
I'm halfway down the hall when Breslin catches up to me. “Becca's even more of a bitch than I thought. I seriously want to kick her in her petri dish of a vagina for fucking with you.”
I brush off her words and keep walking. I can't be around her or anyone else...I don't want to. I want to push everyone away because I'm so tired of being hurt. I'm tired of being used. I'm tired of giving everyone my heart and watching them stomp on it.
I'm tired of never being good enough.
And I'm so tired of everyone I love leaving me in one form or another.
Maybe I should be the one to do it first this time.
Breslin doesn't need my friendship anymore. She's happy and in love with not one, but two people now. And considering college is almost over and we'll no longer be roommates, there's no reason for her to keep in touch.
Therefore, I'm cutting the cord before she does and sparing myself the torture of having her slowly unravel it.
“Kit,” she screams, and I turn and face her.
“What?”
She gapes at me. “What do you mean what? I'm trying to talk to you and make sure you're okay.”
I press a finger to my lips. “Sorry, I'm having trouble keeping up. A week ago you ripped me a new one for being okay and not dying when your boyfriend decided to attack the person holding us at gunpoint...and today you're worried about my well-being?”
Guilt sweeps over her face. “You know I didn't—”
“No, I don't know. And to tell you the truth, I'm not so sure I even care.” I jut my chin out before I deliver the very same words she said to me. The words I know will either piss her off or push her away. “Don't follow me when I turn around.”
I go to walk again, but her arms wrap around me, holding me in place. “I was beside myself. All I could think about was Landon and how much it would kill me to lose him. I was terrified and needed someone to blame because the person I wanted to was dead.” Her voice quivers and she tightens her grip. “But I was wrong and I'm sorry.”
My head hurts and whatever's left of my heart twists, but I wrench out of her hold anyway.
“I don't know what you want from me or why you're choosing to apologize now.” I leer at her. “Oh, wait, I get it. Now that Landon is fine, and you and your boyfriends have worked things out and you're all one big, happy orgy—everything in the world must be great again, huh? Well, news flash, B. The world doesn't revolve around you.”
There's no mistaking the offense on her face, and I want to take the words back the second they leave my mouth, but I refuse to.
“I have shit to do, see you around.”
She yanks my arm. “Jesus Christ, Kit. What else do I have to say or do to prove how sorry I am?”
I look her right in the eyes. “You can start by leaving me alone. For good.”
She blinks. “You can't be serious. You're my best friend.”
“Things change.”
Her face falls. “This isn't you, Kit.”
She's right...it isn't. This is the new Kit. The Kit who can walk right out those hospital doors, ignoring her best friend's pleas for her to come back.
Adrenaline courses through me, causing my body to shake as I run out to my car.
God, I'm so angry. So fucking angry at the both of them.
A choked sob tears from my throat. At him.
I'm sticking my key in the ignition when my phone rings and I see my Nanna Bishop's name flash across the screen.
I promptly hit the ignore button and peel out of the parking lot.
Because this is the Kit who no longe
r gives a fuck about anything or anyone.
The Kit who doesn't get hurt...ever. Because she no longer feels a damn thing.
Three years later...
Chapter 1
“The upcoming merger will not only increase revenue for this company, it will expand growth for both parties involved.” She licks her lips and smiles, and it's a good thing I'm sitting because I feel my knees go weak.
“I know some of you have reservations and I understand—big changes can be scary. However, I've put my blood, sweat, and tears into Pretty Kitties, so trust me when I tell you this is the best solution to save the company.”
Marge, the billing supervisor—if you can even call her that—rolls her eyes. “Oh please. This is the wrong move and you know it. I think I speak for everyone when I say that Pretty Kitties—a female sex toy company is classy and harmless. But joining forces with Porn Rub? What am I supposed to tell my kids? Sorry, gonna be home late tonight, I have to calculate the billable hours for some bimbo taking a dick up the ass.”
A few of my co-workers snicker and nod their heads in agreement.
I pick at my cuticles. “Sounds like someone's a little jealous they're not getting paid for the stick they have up their ass.”
Marge shoots me a dirty look. “Says the lesbian.”
I lean forward. “Was that supposed to be an insult?”
“Don't worry, Marge, it's not contagious,” Juan, my flamboyant and impeccably dressed friend from sales says and I give him a smile for coming to my defense.
“All right, enough.” My boss sharpens her gaze as she looks around the table at us. “I know this merger with Porn Rub isn't ideal for everyone. However, if the new direction isn't something you're interested in, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out. This is a business and there's a fuck-ton of money that can be made with this deal. And if you want Mama to feed you a piece of the pie—I suggest you pipe down and pay attention.”
It's all I can do not to stand up and give her a round of applause. Not only is she one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen—her take-charge attitude is such a turn on.
Stop it, Kit. I pinch my thigh under the table. She's your boss.
Your really hot boss.
A hot boss who kissed you while sharing a taxi after the company holiday party last month. And then pretended like it never happened the following Monday.
“Kit?” she questions, her voice rich like velvet.
I look up and suck in a breath. If Rihanna and Eva Mendez had a love child...it would look just like her.
I can feel everyone's stare on me as I clear my throat. “Yes?”
“Are you still with me?”
Hell yes. “Absolutely.”
She looks relieved. “Good. Because Porn Rub wants you to be the head of their social media department. They know you'll require some extra training, but if you do a good job, you'll make double what you do now. Sound good?”
I wasn't aware porn companies, even the most well-known, had social media departments, but I'm not about to turn this down. Not only because of the money but because Jess gave me a chance and hired me when no one else would.
Because I am a fuck up.
I shove that thought to the back burner before it can drag me down. I've worked hard to get my life back after my downward spiral, and I'm finally in a good place again. “I look forward to it.”
She bites her lip and my stomach dips. “Me too.” She holds my gaze for a fraction of a second before she reaches for a stack of envelopes and starts tossing them at us individually.
I'm about to ask what's in them but then Juan screams, “Vegas! This is better than a sale at Nordstrom.”
Everyone around me squeals and cheers, and sure enough; when I open my envelope; there's a plane ticket with my name on it.
My boss clears her throat, waiting for us to calm down before she speaks again. “Porn Rub, along with myself, have put together a little workshop. Given this is such a drastic change, we thought some training would be helpful.” Her eyes gleam. “And since we want this to be a fun experience for all involved, as well as a celebration, we figured Vegas would be just the place.” She waits for the excited chatter to die down again before she speaks. “Okay, that pretty much wraps up today's meeting. Finish out the rest of your day, enjoy your weekend, and I'll see you all in Vegas.”
With that, she dismisses us.
“Can't believe I'm going to work in porn,” Marge mutters as she gathers her things and walks out the door.
“Something tells me it won't be for long,” Juan murmurs before he leans over and whispers. “More pie for us, though, right?”
I grab my notepad and stand up. “Pie with a side of porn. America's favorite pastime.”
He gives me a strange look. “You know, for a girl who found out she was going to Vegas and getting a raise, you don't seem that excited.” He pokes my arm. “Is it all the peen you'll be seeing now? Because take it from me, honey. Dick is fantastic.”
I give him a look. “Let's agree to disagree on that. Unless of course, you don't mind me listing all the reasons why pussy is the next best thing to heaven.”
He turns his nose up. “Ugh, point taken. Lord knows I hear enough of that crap whenever I visit my parents.”
I reach for my coffee and toss my bag over my shoulder. “I feel your pain. My grandmother wasn't too accepting of my” —I make air quotes— “sickness, either. Being raised by her wasn't exactly a picnic.”
“Sounds like you're better off without her.”
I inwardly wince. “Yeah, I am. I mean, she's still alive and kicking, but we haven't spoken in years.” I wave a hand because I hate the sour note our conversation has taken. “Like you said, it's for the best.”
He tips his coffee cup at me. “Y—”
“Can you hang back a minute, Kit?” my boss calls out, cutting him off.
Juan must notice the blush creeping up my cheeks because he winks and whispers, “I want all the details. Minus the vagina monologues,” before he skedaddles out of the room.
I try to relax before I turn and face her. “What's up?”
“I didn't want to say it during the meeting, but PR wants you to spend a few weeks at their office in New York.”
“PR?” The moment the question leaves my mouth, I realize. “Right, Porn Rub. Duh.”
I seriously hate the way my brain turns to mush around her.
Given I turned twenty-four last month, you'd think I'd be mature enough to stop morphing into an imbecile around women I'm attracted to.
Then again, Asher, who recently turned twenty-five, has become notorious for twerking on the football field whenever his team scores a touchdown. So I guess age really is just a number and not an indicator of maturity.
My boss tilts her head and I realize she's waiting for me to respond. “A few weeks in New York won't be a problem.” I chew on my lip, debating my next words carefully. “Can I ask you a question?”
The fingers typing frantically across her phone come to a stop. “Of course.”
“I hope this doesn't come off rude. I'm not a judgmental sourpuss like Marge is, it's just—”
Her lips twitch. “You want to know how and why someone who owns a business encouraging women to embrace their sexual needs ends up merging with a porn company.”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Not that I have anything against porn, but there's no denying it's very one-sided as far as what particular sex the porn industry caters to. From a business standpoint, I don't understand how Pretty Kitties would benefit. If anything, we'd be losing clients.”
She points her pen at me. “You're 100% correct about it being one-sided. Which is exactly what Pretty Kitties, or rather, PR, is going to change. The company alone is worth millions, but the CEO—along with the executive assistant who oversees the main headquarters in New York—realized they could make even more money and possibly double their profits by opening a division which exclusively caters to women.”
�
�But Porn Rub earns most of their revenue by ads and content uploaded by users. They don't make the content themselves, so I don't understand how they can—”
“Right now they don't,” she interjects. “But there will be some changes shortly. Users will still have the same options on the site they always have, only now there will be videos produced by Porn Rub geared toward women. The videos will include products made by Pretty Kitties in addition to the popular uploaders showcasing our toys in their videos.”
I nod because, in theory, it makes sense, but I can't help wondering. “Do you think it will be successful?”
Her jaw sets and for a moment I think she's going to let me have it, but to my surprise, she looks down at her feet. “It has to be. Otherwise, I'm royally screwed.” When she lifts her head, I notice her eyes are glassy. “If I tell you something, can I trust you'll keep it to yourself?”
I've never seen her look so timid. “Of course.”
“I was a heartbeat away from filing for Chapter 11.”
My hand flies over my mouth, not in condemnation, but in shock. “I never would have guessed. I thought business was good?”
She wrings her hands. “It is. But when I started this company three years ago, I put everything I had into it, along with things I didn't...like money. I was young and optimistic, though, so I took out a huge loan and figured I could pay it all back once it took off. But, I found out the hard way that was a terrible thing to do, because I ended up having so much debt. I was barely hanging on, which was so frustrating because sales were triple what they had been, but it still wasn't enough to save the business. The way I saw it, I only had two options. One, beg my bank for another loan—which of course they immediately denied. Or, propose a business merger with one of the largest porn companies around and make them see they were missing out on major money by not including women in their demographic, and pray they were intrigued enough to contact me. I was driving to meet with the bankruptcy attorney when I got the phone call, and they set up a meeting. After I proposed my plan and showed them my data, I had to be upfront with them about my debt. To my astonishment, they were still willing to do business together, but only if I handed them 90% of my company and gave them full control to do whatever they wanted with it—including liquidate if it doesn't produce enough of a profit for them. Luckily, I was able to negotiate a deal to keep my staff of seventeen employees as well.”