Real Deal

by Piper Rayne

  Flash.

  My eyes blink a few times and then Polly’s phone is in my face.

  “Our first meeting,” she’s practically bouncing up and down on the chair like an overexcited toddler who got to skip dinner and move straight to the ice cream.

  My hands leave the shell and I wipe them on the napkin that rests on my lap as I take the phone from her. It’s us. Well, her smiling face but me on the other hand, I have one of my eyes closed and my lips are pressed in a tight line. I look like an asshole in the picture, but that’s not what bothers me.

  What has me wanting to make like a banana and split is the fact that there are stickers or some shit over our faces. On the bottom of the picture it says, ‘Just Married’ with a bouquet of flowers. She’s got some veil on top of her head and I have a bow tie.

  “We can show this on the big day to prove that we knew immediately where this was leading,” she whispers in my ear.

  My hand moves for my Rusty Nail, finding the glass empty except for a few waterlogged drops mixed in with the ice cubes. I grab Dane’s beer and he tilts his head but asks no questions.

  He should be lucky I’m still here. If this was his date and she was about to post some picture of them getting married, he’d have jumped off the balcony and into the Pacific never to be heard from again.

  I cough, and chug down the rest of his beer, saying nothing and making a mental note to find a way to return the favor back to Dane. My revenge will be sweet.

  9

  Caterina

  I unbutton my shorts and strip down to take a shower after the long day at camp. One thing about being outside all day is the amount of dirt embedded into your skin when you leave. My mom thought I was crazy when I told her I was going to be a camp counselor for the summer.

  “Oh, Cat, you’ll be outside all day. If you want to be around kids why don’t you be a nanny?”

  A nanny.

  So, I could transport kids to tennis, swim, horseback riding and any other extracurricular activity? No thanks. If that were the case, I’d be the nanny for my older sister, Tahlia.

  No, I wanted to come to the camp to teach kids about art. To watch them fall in love with exploring your feelings and emotions with crayons, paint and whatever their little imaginations can conjure up. I saw it as a way to pay back my mentor, Mrs. Quinton. Surely, one summer spent without progressing my career isn’t horrible. The studios will still be there this fall, looking for new talent.

  I turn the shower on, but I catch sight of some string on the tiled bathroom floor.

  The bracelet.

  Lily’s bracelet.

  After we got home from camp, Charlie went to the Happy Daze to work her shift and Ava’s been baking up a storm in the kitchen. I immediately went where I always go.

  The balcony outside my room where my easel and canvases are. As the sun fell from the sky and disappeared behind the edge of the ocean, my hands frantically tried to capture the magic in that moment.

  I was never a sunset or sunrise type of girl. My pieces are usually more abstract and up for interpretation, but there’s something about Climax Cove. I haven’t been able to stop painting the town and the landscapes since I arrived.

  With my view from my small corner balcony, I see the friendly people and small children running along the edge of the water fountain in the middle of town, the boats that come in for daily shipments, and the tourists who park their boats in the marina and stay for a few days. The fisherman with their waterlogged pants and gruff beards are a daily occurrence as they step on dry land after a day spent at sea, catching the best seafood this side of the Pacific. It’s all been an inspiration of new material that I can’t seem to get my fill of.

  I’m a little fearful that coming to Climax Cove ruined me. I’ve done nothing but hotel art for the past two weeks. And hotel art isn’t going to sell in New York. My edge is disappearing to be replaced by a dime a dozen starving artist pieces. Not good for an up-and-coming artist.

  I pick up the bracelet and weave it through my fingers remembering how Lily would run her little fingertips along it and check periodically to make sure it was there. It’s obvious that the few frayed strands of yarn and beads are something she holds dear.

  Without thinking much about it, I turn off the water, step into my shorts and camp t-shirt once again. Checking my cell phone, I find it’s just before eight. My fingers move across my screen, googling the name Marcus Kent and Climax Cove, but nothing comes up.

  Maybe Lily can go without the bracelet for one night. I mean, it’s only a bracelet, right? A bracelet I noticed her touch several times throughout the day whenever she seemed shy or uncomfortable.

  My teeth clench and my jaw tightens. Damn it to hell. Why does it have to be Marcus Kent’s daughter?

  Screw him, I can face his smug know-it-all hot as fuck face. After all, he thinks I don’t remember him and that case of instant amnesia I gave myself has worked swimmingly so far.

  I open the bathroom door and the steam from my hot shower follows me into the hallway. The aroma of something sweet grows in intensity the closer I get to the kitchen. Once I enter, I smile, watching Ava bent over the oven, taking out a tray of cupcakes. There are bowls and spatulas, flour, sugar, eggs and butter on every surface of the counter and you’d think Pillsbury just invaded our house.

  Her finger presses one of the cupcakes and a giddiness rings from her throat before she pulls them out completely.

  “So delicious,” she says to herself and with the tray in her hand, she turns from the oven and looks up. “Fuck!” she screams, dropping the tray. It lands half on the counter, starts to slide and then slips off and onto the floor.

  “I’m so sorry, Ava!” I run over to help her.

  She’s already picking them up and placing them back in the tray. “You scared the shit out of me. Do you enjoy sneaking up on people?” she asks, her voice a little bitter.

  I pick up the cupcakes and place them in the pan. I’m sure they are fine to eat. I mean Ava is a germaphobe to the max and she probably Mr. Clean’d the entire kitchen before she even started baking.

  “I was just going to ask you something,” I say, embarrassed that when I ask the question, she’ll know who I was talking about earlier today.

  She puts the tray on the counter, away from the other cupcakes she’s already baked.

  “What?” she asks, obviously frustrated.

  “Never mind. Do you want me to help you make more?” I offer.

  She tosses the potholder onto the counter, rounds the island and sits down on a stool. “No. I’m not sure why I even do a whole recipe. I mean no one eats them.” She almost seems down. I wonder why. Usually Ava is the happiest roomie of the bunch.

  “I’ll eat them,” I walk over to take one. “What kind are they?”

  “Don’t eat the ones from the floor. And you have to wait until I frost them.” She stands from the stool and moves back behind the counter. “They’re cookies and cream.”

  I spot the pieces of Oreos in the white cake batter. “Yum,” I say, unwrapping the cupcake I picked up.

  Ava takes it from my hands and throws it in the trash.

  “Um?”

  “I told you, no to the ones that fell.”

  “It was less than ten seconds.”

  “That is the stupidest rule ever.” She shakes her head. “I’ll frost these and then you can have a cupcake.”

  I shrug, knowing my hips don’t necessarily need another sweet. If Ava keeps spending all her free time in the kitchen, I’ll be heading to New York three sizes bigger.

  “What did you need?” she asks and I tilt my head not remembering what we were talking about.

  “Oh, I need to know where someone lives, but I don’t want to hear anything about it.” I pin her with a warning glare.

  She laughs, moving to her teal Kitchen Aid mixer. “Okay.”

  Her back is turned to me and the mixer is going, so I step closer. “I need Marcus Kent’s address.”
r />   The spatula keeps scraping the sides as the mixer goes through her frosting and she doesn’t answer me.

  “Ava?” I question and she turns my way.

  “Marcus Kent,” I say his name again.

  A slow smirk slinks across her lips. “I’m sorry who?” She acts like she can’t hear me over the mixer, which is bullshit.

  “Marcus Kent,” I say a little louder.

  Her smirk turns into a full smile. “Is this the dad who was giving you grief?” she asks.

  I blow out a breath. She’s never going to let this go.

  “Maybe.”

  “And now you want to go to his house?” She turns down the speed of the mixer and walks over to a cabinet on the other side of the kitchen.

  “That bracelet we found is his daughter’s.”

  She nods nice and slow, pulling out a plastic bag in the shape of a triangle.

  “And that’s the only reason? I mean, you are going there at close to nine o’clock at night.”

  I say nothing, jut my hip out and wait for her to grant me her undivided attention.

  She peers up from placing the frosting tip in the bag and cracks up laughing. Bent over, she hits the counter a few times, obviously finding herself funny.

  She’s the only one in this room who does.

  “Okay, okay. Man, you are no fun. I do know who he is. He was building a new house when I was here a few summers back. It’s on Greyfalls Hill. If you go through downtown, it’s like the fourth streetlight. He’s the only house on the Hill, so it should be easy to find.” She smiles overly sweetly as though she didn’t drill me. “Don’t go getting lost and find yourself in say…his bedroom accidentally.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m going to drop it off and I’ll be back for those cupcakes in fifteen minutes tops.”

  “Well, he looks like a man that probably rocks some serious groin cleavage. Like I said before, anything can happen when there’s groin cleavage involved.”

  “Groin cleavage?” I question.

  She looks at me over her shoulder. “You know that V thing we were talking about before. Take it from me, groin cleavage can make you do some pretty stupid shit.” Her back is turned to me once again as she scoops the frosting into the bag.

  “I’ve never heard it called that before.” I chuckle.

  She shrugs. “Meh. Got it from some jerkoff who landed me in bed once. I just remembered it. What can I say? He used the power of his groin cleavage against me.” She gives a wry laugh.

  I grab my keys and walk over to the screen door. “Nothing to worry about here. I’m impervious to the power of groin cleavage and sex packs.”

  “Sex packs?” she turns and asks me.

  “Yeah, you know like a six pack or an eight pack. They’ve been known to have the same effect as groin cleavage.” I wink and then head out the screen door.

  “I’m going to use that lingo,” Ava calls out after me.

  The night is warm and the few lightening bugs flitting around makes the feeling of summer that much more prevalent.

  The town is empty at this time of the night. A few lingering couples walking in the marina, but all the families must have retired for the night.

  As I’m stopped at the red light outside Breakers, one of the only places that make this town look like it entertains living people this time of night, I spot it. The truck. The gray pickup truck that belongs to Marcus. It looks freshly washed, and there isn’t any lumber coming off the back like there usually is. If I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t guess it belonged to a man that does physical labor every day.

  My eyes are so transfixed on the truck, that I don’t notice a couple approaching it at first. My heart skips a beat when he comes into view under the street light he’s parked near. I can’t get a good look at the woman he’s with, but Marcus’ hands are stuffed in his pockets like they seem to be a lot. He’s wearing a pair of slacks and a button-down that doesn’t scream small town father of a five-year-old who likes to spend his nights watching CSI. I made that last part up. Not that I’ve given any thought to what Marcus might do with his evenings when he’s alone.

  The slacks mold to his ass, his shirt fits snug around his broad shoulders, tapering into his taut waist, his hair is gelled and perfectly placed. His look screams city man, single, rich, and promises nights filled with satisfied screams and multiple orgasms.

  A horn honks behind me and I snap to attention, glancing in my rearview mirror. It’s another sports car with classic rock blaring from it. I press the gas immediately, not slowing down until I’m through downtown.

  This is a good thing, I tell myself. I can drop the bracelet off and get the hell out of here . He isn’t home, so maybe there’s a babysitter, or I can leave it by the door.

  A minute or so passes after I turn onto Greyfalls Hill before a lighted house comes into view. It’s gorgeous, dark, and more contemporary than I was expecting. I park in front of the garage, and light pours from every window.

  Grabbing the bracelet, I hop out of the car, knowing I have limited time before Marcus returns. If I’m lucky, he’s going to drive his date home. Oh, God. What if he planned to bring her home to…

  My hand moves up and massages the knife-like feeling in my heart as I bound up the cement steps and press the doorbell. Lily comes into view from the side window. She’s barreling down the hall in her nightgown, her hair wet.

  Another girl, a teenager follows behind, telling her not to open the door.

  “Miss Cat!” Lily screams, jumping up and down as the girl struggles with the lock.

  I glance behind me, swearing I heard something, but we’re high in the hills of this town surrounded by forest so I’m sure there’s a bunch of furry animals nearby. Fingers crossed they’re of the fuzzy cute variety.

  The teenager opens the door and Lily squeezes between her and the door until she’s on the porch with me.

  “Hi, Miss Cat,” she says with a huge smile on her face.

  I glance from Lily to the girl. “Sorry, I’m Lily’s camp counselor, Caterina.” I give the young girl a wave.

  “I’m Ashley, the babysitter,” she smiles and stays in the doorframe, letting Lily stay out on the porch with me.

  “I found something when I was cleaning up in the cabin,” I say.

  Her clear blue eyes light up. “Today was so fun! Are we doing more crafts tomorrow?” The excitement is reverberating from Lily and I’m wondering if it’s ridiculous that I drove up here to return her bracelet. She’s obviously fine without it.

  “We’ll see. Listen, I stopped by because I have your bracelet.” I open my hand to reveal the worn piece of string.

  Lily’s shoulders fall. “I almost forgot,” she says, her voice as small as a mouse. Her finger runs over the heart beads and she looks up at me. “Thank you.”

  I smile. “I’m glad I made the trip.”

  Ashley steps out and looks over Lily’s shoulder. Her eyes widen and she nods.

  “Thank you.” Her voice is one of relief.

  “Sure.” I pat Lily’s wet hair and those eyes just like her dad’s stare up at me like I’m her very own fairy godmother.

  “Can Miss Cat come in?” Lily asks and turns her attention to Ashley.

  “Lily you’re already up way past your bedtime.”

  I need to get out of here before Marcus returns so I wouldn’t be staying even if I was welcome. “I have to get back home, but I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I step back, waving my hand, but Lily runs into me, her small arms wrapping around my legs. I pat her back and she only grips me tighter.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs and then steps back, turns around and skips into the house. “Bye, Miss Cat.”

  “Thanks again,” Ashley says. “That was going to be an issue when I tried to put her to bed.”

  “You’re welcome.” The door shuts and I turn around and take the steps two at a time to try and make my escape.

  My hand is on my door handle and I’m breathing a s
igh of relief that I was able to get Lily her bracelet without seeing Marcus when the garage door opens. I close my eyes, hoping to hell, Lily or Ashley opened it from the inside, but headlights light up the driveway and I slowly turn to find his grey truck pulling up the driveway.

  Seriously, can’t I catch one break when it comes to this asshole?

  10

  Marcus

  Am I delusional? Because the red sports car in my driveway looks an awful lot like Cat’s. And then I see the woman herself as if my imagination conjured her up for my viewing pleasure.

  My gaze remains on her as I pass by, pulling my truck into the garage. She’s a mix of cute and sexy in her jean shorts and tight t-shirt, her short hair pulled back in a small ponytail. But it’s her eyes that intrigue me, filled with fear and a touch of indignation. All because I’m here presumably. What does she expect? I live here.

  I climb out of my truck and approach her and her sweet scent floats on the warm summer breeze to greet me. My dick twitches in my pants and I’m half thankful it’s still alive and well after an evening with Polly. I was beginning to worry it had shriveled up and died in an act of self-preservation.

  “Hey,” I say, approaching her.

  She stuffs her hands in her back pockets, effectively pushing her tits out to me. I can’t help but glance down and she immediately removes her hands and clasps them in front of her.

  “I had Lily’s bracelet, so I returned it to her.” Her gaze never fully reaches mine, which is different than any other time we’ve spoken.

  “Thank you. She sleeps with it. It’s like her security blanket,” I say and she smiles.

  “I thought it might be important to her.” She shifts her weight and chews the inside of her lip as if she’s uncomfortable talking to me.

  “How did you know?” I can’t help but wonder how she’s noticed my daughter’s obsession with a bracelet that was made years prior in such a short time.

  Her fidgeting stops and she finally meets my gaze and something sparks in her eyes. “I’m her counselor. I would hope I’d notice when a girl touches a bracelet every time she’s worried or nervous. That’s my job.”