Against the Rules

by M. E. Montgomery

  "Because most people don't hand over money without knowing what they're buying."

  "Buying indicates I get something in return. Are you offering me something?" His eyebrow quirked, and his eyes glittered, making me feel off kilter.

  "Din...dinner."

  "Sold."

  "Um, okay, then." Maybe he wasn't a prick after all. "We'd also appreciate if you'd consider a donation beyond the dinner, such as donating something for the silent auction. Or equally important, you could become a mentor at the center. You're very successful for someone your age, so I'm sure you'd be an excellent role model for one of the young men or women enrolled in the program. Your drive, your ambition, your success…any kid would look up to you. I mean, if you knew the background of some of these kids your heart would break..."

  "You're assuming I have a heart," he interrupted. "I told you I'm not a prince, and I'm not a role model for whoever these kids are. But I'll ask the head of my finances to forward a check for five thousand dollars. Will that be acceptable?"

  I wasn't sure why I felt so deflated despite his very generous offer. "Oh. Well, that would be wonderful, of course. It's very generous." I stood and extended my hand across his desk. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Carter. It was nice to see you again."

  "It's Jax." When I started to pull away, he held tight. "Tell me the truth, Grace. Did you know who I was at the wedding? Was the charm all part of a strategy to loosen me from my money?"

  It felt like his voice vibrated straight to my hand, distracting me from his implication. Then it hit me with full force.

  "I beg your pardon?" I jerked my arm away. Yet another person who sought to judge me without even knowing me. Of course, he didn't know my behavior with him at the wedding wasn't like me. But this, thinking I'd tried to flirt my way into his pockets, was beyond the pale.

  "Oh, I'd love to hear you begging, Grace. But a girl like you wouldn't know anything about that though, would you?"

  His statement was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. My Jax-buzz quickly died.

  I lurched to my feet. "Which is it, Mr. Carter?" I challenged, emphasizing the use of his formal name. "Am I the innocent girl who doesn't understand your sexual provocation, or am I the whore who tried to seduce you into a generous donation? You can't have me both ways. At least now I have my question answered about you."

  His eyebrows arched. "What answer is that?"

  "You're a jackass."

  Rather than the astonished reaction I was going for, he seemed amused. "'Jackass,' Ms. Hart? I'm surprised you'd use such a word."

  Gah, this man drove me nuts! "Why, because my dad's a pastor? You think that somehow makes me a saint or less human?"

  "Maybe. It definitely makes you out of bounds and off limits."

  I bored my gaze into his. "Ahh. We come to the crux of the matter. You're afraid of my daddy, aren't you? Afraid he'll call upon the Almighty to strike you with lightning?"

  Now he seemed insulted. He stood and moved to stand in front of me. "Are you calling me a coward?"

  "You tell me." I poked my finger in his chest. There was no yield in the flesh under the shirt. "You're the one who walked away as soon you saw who my dad is." I shrugged. "Maybe this is just a show, all sound and fury. Maybe all those rumors about big pockets making up for a small, well, you know, are true."

  Liar! There's nothing small about this man, and you know it!

  "You mean the size of my cock?" He grinned as he took in my pink cheeks. "I assure you, there is nothing small about mine. I'd love to show you sometime."

  "I'm not here to discuss the size of your... attributes, except how big of a contribution you're willing to make, Mr. Carter."

  "Attributes?" He laughed. "You can't say it, can you? I was right about you after all, wasn't I?"

  "You don't know anything about me, Mr. Carter. Of course, I can say it. I don't find this to be an appropriate conversation, that's all." Could I sound more prudish? Talk about living up to his preconceived notion!

  "Say it, Grace. Say 'cock,' and I'll write you an even bigger check for your charity."

  Oh, he's so smug! I pretended to think about his words. "How much?"

  He pulled a checkbook out of his desk and wrote a number on it and held it up for me to see.

  My jaw dropped; it was double the money. I eyed him suspiciously. "All this for one little word?"

  He smirked. "Trust me when I say the size of the word doesn't come close to measuring the size of the subject."

  My subconscious rubbed her hands gleefully; he was offering me a way to make him pay for his smart mouth—literally.

  "Mr. Carter, you're clearly trying to back me into a corner and embarrass me, but it won't work. I can say with confidence that we'll raise enough money without your contribution."

  "That might be, but we both know this would go a very long way toward helping."

  I rested one hand on my his tapped a finger against my mouth with the other. "You know, I think I was wrong. I don't think you're scared of my dad. I think you're scared of me. You don't know how to handle a real woman." I tilted my head and studied him. "Your loss, Mr. Carter. You remind me a lot of a rooster I once saw."

  "A rooster?"

  "Mmhmm. He strutted around, crowing about himself and thinking all the hens would come a’runnin when they saw him."

  His mouth quirked even as his eyes narrowed. "Which is it, Grace? A jackass or a rooster?"

  I grinned. "Definitely a rooster. The lazy kind at that."

  Once again, he looked at me with a curious expression.

  "Yep. You know, the one who wakes up in the morning and says, 'Cock a doodle don't.'"

  His jaw dropped. I snatched the check from his hand, and skipped to the door, pausing only a second to wave my fingers over my shoulder before flying down the hallway. My heart raced as I waited for him to chase me or send someone to stop me. But as I reached the elevator door, all I heard was a roar of laughter in the distance.

  7

  Grace

  Ever since I'd fled from Jax's office two days ago, I'd been a mess of nerves with some anger and disappointment thrown in for good measure. Needing a distraction, I called my sisters. If nothing else, I hoped Laurel would have some Hollywood drama to share to distract me from my own.

  Laurel had a leading role playing “Mandy” in the popular daytime soap opera, Hidden Passions. She was the youngest out of four of us, but by far had the most interesting life living out in Los Angeles. Our oldest sister, Faith, was married and embracing motherhood with her five-year-old son, Caleb. She was like a prettier, friendlier version of Martha Stewart. The second eldest, Angela, or Angie as we called her, was a trauma nurse whom we rarely saw due to her crazy schedule. The stress of the job had started to burn her out, so she was taking classes to become a physical therapist. I came third in the order. We older three were like a straight staircase, each about 20 months apart. Laurel had been a "surprise" three years after me.

  Once a month, my sisters and I tried to get together at one of our homes, with Laurel facetiming so she wasn’t left out. Sometimes we invited a friend or two, but tonight would just be us. I loved these times when we could kick back and not worry about how much we drank or what we said—our safe zone so to speak. We called them "Girls Night In," or "GNI." We went to a large church, so it was hard not to run into at least one person who knew us if we went out as a group. Most of them didn't worry about what we were up to, but others enjoyed trying to bring us down, never mind that they might be doing the same thing. Fair or not, we were held to a higher standard.

  GNI was based on a tradition that had been started by our mother when we were teenagers. With four girls, there was no shortage of drama. Our mom would gather us all around the kitchen table with a piece of cheesecake, a favorite of all of ours. We’d talk about what was going on at school, the latest boy, or anything else we wanted. It was a non-judgmental time, and under our mother’s strong guidance, we’d learned to voice our conc
erns and respectfully offer input, advice, or just a sympathetic ear. We didn’t tell her everything, and I’m sure she knew it. But we did learn we could trust each other which I think was her ultimate goal.

  The only difference now was we had added alcohol and were a lot raunchier. Each of us took turns hosting the event, and tonight was my turn. Unlike Faith, who always made her own cheesecake, I’d had to purchase mine. But I’d made a fantastic sangria and had a couple bottles of wine open and ready to pour.

  The doorbell rang. I glanced at the clock and saw it was exactly seven o’clock, which meant it was probably Faith. She was never early, never late. I always wondered if she came early and stood outside with a watch, or if she was just that good at timing everything.

  “Hey, Sis,” she greeted as she came inside, a basket covering some treat she had baked. As she gave me a peck on the cheek, I rested my hand on her arm, looking closely at her face.

  “You okay, honey?”

  Her nod seemed tired, and her smile was not as full as usual. It looks like I’m not the only one who needs my sisters tonight.

  Before I could close the door, Angie’s voice rang out, “I’m here! Wait for me.” She paid the Uber driver and ran to the door.

  The three of us filled our glasses and settled in to chow down on cheesecake and the brownies Faith had made while we chatted about nothing in particular.

  My computer started chiming. “Oh, that’s Laurel!”

  “Hey, girls!” Laurel greeted. We heard a small ‘pop’ as she opened a wine bottle. “Looks like y’all are way ahead of me. Let me get caught up. It’s been a long and crazy day here.” She sank back into what looked like the most comfortable couch ever.

  "So how are things on the home front? Mom? Dad?" Laurel asked after catching us up with some lively gossip and making us all laugh.

  I topped off my wine glass for the third time. It had definitely been the three-glass-kind of week.

  "Everything’s fine. They’re fine. You should come home for a visit sometime and see for yourself." I snuggled back against the couch pillows and threw a blanket over my legs. I took a sip of my wine, knowing ahead of time what her response would be.

  "It's not that easy. My schedule and—"

  "Quit making excuses” I scolded. “It's been two years, and we miss you, ya know.

  "Not just us,” Faith added. “Daddy misses you, too, even if he's too stubborn to tell you himself. Not that you didn’t inherit that same trait,” she added under her breath.

  “I heard that.”

  “Well, it’s true,” Angie said.

  And it was. Laurel hadn't returned home since her abrupt departure almost two years ago. I missed her like crazy. I never thought she’d stay away this long; none of us did. We’d always been so close, even with Daddy’s…zealous protective nature.

  Laurel stared at her wine as she swirled it around in her glass. "I'm thinking about it." She drained her glass.

  My drink went down the wrong pipe.

  Angie leaned over and pounded me on the back. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm sorry. I was just so surprised. I thought Laurel said she was coming back east."

  Laurel chuckled. "It won't be for a while. I can't get away from filming right now, but I'm hoping to work something out soon. I miss everyone. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about the idea. The BAGs will have a field day treating me like I'm one and the same as my character."

  She was right. Not only would there be plenty of crow to serve between her and our father, but it would make a delectable dish for the gossip feast the BAGs loved to feed on.

  "That just means they watch it." Faith laughed.

  I pointed my finger at the screen. “Besides, after what I did last summer, you're small potatoes on the drama scale. I gave them enough fodder to last a lifetime.”

  Angie one-armed hugged me. "You know that wasn't your fault, right?"

  "Doesn't matter. It still comes back to me.” I moved closer to the screen. “So, come home. You'll get to be the prodigal daughter."

  Laurel sighed. "Well, don't kill the fatted calf too soon. But it's...it's been a little crazy here, and I'm about due for a break."

  My sisterly Spidey sense kicked in once again. I'd gotten the distraction I wanted tonight, but now it was replaced with concern. "Are you okay, Laurel? You sound, I don't know, a little tired or something."

  She disappeared offscreen, and I heard some clinking and guessed it was her turn to refill her wine glass. "I'm fine. It was a long day on set. Mandy is causing trouble again, so the scenes have been more intense."

  "Is there ever a time she doesn't?"

  "Aw, Mandy's just misunderstood," Laurel snorted, defending her character who was the stereotype femme fatale. "So, what else is happening in your lives? Please tell me they’re not as dramatic as Mandy’s."

  “Well,” Angie said. “Ask Grace about the stranger she kissed.”

  "You let a stranger kiss you?" Laurel's laughter filled my ear through the phone. I brought all three of them up to speed.

  “I wish I thought I would have had your courage,” Faith said after hearing about the “cock” challenge. “I think I would have just run out of the office.”

  Laurel wiped tears from her eyes. "Wow, sis. That sounds like something Mandy would do, but not you."

  "It's not like he's a total stranger. He's Derek's cousin. Besides, Mandy wouldn’t have stopped with just a kiss."

  "True. But you must have channeled her when you weaseled the extra money from him. I'd have loved to have been a fly on the wall,” Angie exclaimed.

  My cell vibrated on the table. "Sorry girls. It might be work.” I didn't recognize the number, but I always answered in case it was a client. "Hello?"

  "Hello, Grace. This is—"

  I'd know that voice anywhere. "Jax!” I stumbled to my feet and walked to the edge of the room. “How'd you get my number?" How was it that even knowing what an ass he was, his voice still managed to rattle me?

  He chuckled. "I'm pleased you recognized my voice. As for your number, it wasn't hard. It was part of your appointment with my secretary."

  Angie and Faith had sat up straight and were clearly trying to hear the conversation. Laurel’s face was right up against the computer as if she could peer around its side to see more of the room.

  “Oh, of course.” I turned my back on my sisters. I cleared my throat and tried for my best professional tone. "What can I do for you, Mr. Carter? Actually, if you don't mind holding, I have company. I need to move to another room. It’s just my sisters so they’ll wait. Or I can call you back if you—"

  "Grace."

  "Yes?"

  "I can wait."

  I was glad he couldn't see how red my face turned. "Thanks. Hold on just a second, please." I tapped the button to mute the conversation. I whirled to face my sisters, covering my mouth. I began pacing the room as I exclaimed, "Holy crap! It's him! The hot ass from the wedding!"

  "I'll concede on the ass observation. But I'll keep in mind that you think I'm hot."

  Oh, no. I held the phone away and stared at it as if it had suddenly come alive.

  "Grace?" I heard his voice come through the receiver loud and clear.

  "Um, I hit the speaker button, didn't I?"

  Both of my guests fell to the floor, rolling in hysterics. I couldn’t see Laurel anymore, but I assumed she was following suit. I quickly turned the speaker off and held the phone to my ear.

  "That's a safe assumption," he answered wryly. "But I'm very intrigued to learn that you were talking about me."

  I groaned to myself. "I wouldn't read too much into that if I were you. I was telling them—"

  "What an ass I am. Yes, I heard.”

  I was pretty sure my apartment could be freezing cold and the heat from my face would keep it warm

  My siblings were all sitting upright now.

  “What’s going on?”

  “What’s he saying?”

  I waved
my hand like a crazy woman, trying to shush them.

  "Right. I hope you aren't expecting an apology, because after what you—"

  "Grace?"

  "What?" I snapped.

  “I happen to agree. I was an ass. I’m sorry.”

  I stood and walked to the table and topped off my wine. I was already a glass ahead of my usual evening quota, so what was one more? I walked through my kitchen and stepped out the double doors to a patio, so my sisters wouldn’t witness first hand any more of my humiliation. Hopefully, my face would cool down, too. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. "That’s very big of you, Mr. Carter.”

  There was a short pause.

  “If we’re still going to talk about my size, I think we should be on a first name basis, don’t you, Grace?”

  Lawd have mercy! I walked right into that one. Against my will, however, I found myself grinning.

  “Touché, Jax.”

  “Much better.”

  "So, Jax, what can I do for you?" I continued to emphasize his name.

  "You played me earlier today."

  "I didn't play you. I followed the rules. I just didn't play by your set of rules. There's a difference."

  He chuckled. "Well played. But you still can't deposit the check."

  My heart stalled. I dropped all humor to plead my case. "What? Why? Please don't do that, Jax. It's for such a worthy cause. Those kids need a place—"

  "Grace! Take a breath!"

  "Sorry. My mama always tells me my mouth runs away from me when I get nervous."

  I heard him chuckle. "I wonder why I make you nervous," he murmured.

  My cheeks relit, and for once, said mouth remained closed.

  "I'm not reneging on my promise for the money. I just wanted to inform you that you ran out the door before I could sign it."

  "Oh." Crap! "I don't suppose you could leave another check with your secretary? I could stop by and pick it up."

  "I'm leaving tomorrow morning and will be out of town for the rest of the week."

  "Oh. Well, how about your accounting department?"