by Scott, Lisa
“Sending a naked picture of yourself to Ron. That’s disgusting.”
Martina’s heart sank. “I wasn’t naked. I just had my shirt off.”
“Oh, just your shirt.” Laney rolled her eyes.
“How did everybody find out?”
“He told my brother. And someone spotted it on that website, Girls Get It On.”
Martina sank onto a bench in the locker room. Tears filled her eyes. “Why would he do that?” she’d whispered. “He said it was just for him.”
“Why did you send it at all? That is totally trampy,” Laney said. “I don’t think we should hang out anymore.” And she left the locker room.
Martina went to the nurse and called her mom to pick her up, saying she was sick. She certainly felt like she was going to throw up. But she didn’t tell her mom about the picture. She would’ve been devastated. Martina e-mailed the website, asking them to take the picture down, but they ignored her e-mails. In retrospect, she should’ve gotten a lawyer, but that would’ve meant telling her parents. The second half of her senior year was pure hell.
The picture was still on the site after all these years, but you really had to search to find it now that she’d been replaced by other clueless, gullible girls. But there she was at her class reunion with Brett standing in front of her, displaying one of the worst decisions of her life on his phone.
“Didn’t you know about this?” Brett asked, laughing as he held out the phone to Jackson.
“Let me see that,” Jackson said.
Martina’s hand flew to her throat. Jackson would definitely change his mind about her now. It was one thing to tell him about it. It was another thing to see it. But Jackson didn’t even look at the phone. He slammed it against the wall and handed it back to the Brett. “Bad reception. Couldn’t see a thing.”
Brett just stared at Jackson with his mouth hanging open. Jackson put his arm around Martina and guided her out the door. He handed his valet ticket to the driver waiting at the door. “We’ll be waiting down at the corner. Please bring my car there.” He quickly escorted her down the street, and the way his fingers curled around her arm kept her from falling apart.
When they stopped at the corner, she pressed her hand against her mouth, but a sob slipped out anyway. A tear slipped down her cheek, and Jackson swiped a finger across her skin, wiping it away. “I’m sorry they did that to you.”
“And I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m so embarrassed.” She looked up at the sky. “Why did I come tonight? What did I think was going to happen? I show up in a suit and glasses and everyone’s going to suddenly change their opinion about me?”
“I don’t know about everybody, but I did.”
She looked at him, confused.
“You are braver than I could’ve imagined.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “That wasn’t easy what you did. And they definitely have a different view of you now—proud, sensitive, strong.” He put his hands on his hips and sighed. “At work, I always thought you were uptight and too career focused. But you’ve just been protecting yourself.”
“You’re right. But I’m just realizing that I haven’t been happy living like this. This isn’t the real me, either.”
He lowered his voice. “And I know it’s not what you were going for, but that was sexy as hell.”
She couldn’t help but laugh.
He slid his arms around her waist. “I came here with you as a friend tonight. But now I’m hoping it can be more.”
Her heart felt like it was floating in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this. “You sure? I think I might have a scarlet letter tattooed on my forehead.”
He grinned. “Funny you should mention that. There’s something I want to show you. Something about me. That is, if you’d like more than friendship, too.”
She ran her fingers along the stubble starting to sprout along his jawline. “I do. It’s probably not the smartest thing since we work together, but I’m ready to stop caring what people think.”
“You know what? Me too.”
***
Jackson flipped on the lights to his friend’s tattoo studio.
“What is this place?” Martina asked.
“This is my dream. It’s my friend’s place. But I want to open a string of tattoo studios. It’s something I do part time. It’s something I keep a secret. But not anymore. I need to start working toward my dream.”
“You’re a tattoo artist?” Martina asked.
He rolled up his shirt and showed her the koi fish on his forearm. “I designed this one. Couldn’t ink it myself, but I like the artistry of it.”
Martina ran her fingers over the image. It was real easy for him to imagine those fingers wandering to other places. “Do you have more?” she asked.
“I’d have to take off my shirt to show you.” He didn’t want to take the liberty of stripping down if it was going to make her feel uncomfortable.
Martina smirked. “What’s your worry? I don’t see any cameras around.”
He laughed. “All right, then.” He stepped back and unbuttoned his shirt, keeping his eyes on hers. He’d never imagined the night would turn out like this: wanting more from Martina, sharing his secret with her. He let his shirt fall to the floor.
“How many are there?” she asked, walking closer to him.
“Six, counting the one on my back.” He turned around so she could see the dragon emblazoned across his shoulder blades. “I’ve also got tattoos on each ankle.”
Martina traced the snake that curled around his bicep. “It looks so real. Do they each have a special meaning?”
“Not really. Each one just sort of spoke to me at the time and I wanted to add it to the collection, I guess you could say.”
She walked around him, inspecting each one, tracing her fingers tips along the outlines of the designs.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think it’s incredible. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping up this conservative alter ego at work.”
“Neither can I.”
Then she laughed. “I’m one to talk.”
He slid his hand up her arm until it rested on her shoulder. “I’m glad I found out the truth. I’m excited about getting to know the real you.”
“Me, too.”
He looked her over. “So, what about you? Do you have any hidden tattoos?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“I could give you one. Right now, if you’d like,” he offered. He’d never inked a woman he’d been interested in before.
She took her time running her hands up his chest, around his neck. “I think I’d like to someday. But I’m still figuring out who I really am.”
He kissed her forehead and brought his lips to hers. “And I’m anxious to find out about you, too. But I won’t be able to see you at work anymore.”
“Why not?”
He picked up his shirt and slipped back into it. “I’m going to quit soon and start doing what I really want. It’ll be risky, but you’ve taught me some important things tonight.”
She couldn’t hold back her grin. “I wasted so much time. Pretending I was a flirt and then doing a complete one-eighty. It’s like my life has been frozen for a long time.”
“I’m ready to help you heat things up,” he offered. Then he smirked.
“Do you want to see the picture on the website? Get that out from between us?”
“It’s not between us. It’s in your past. And I can be patient. I want to discover all of you myself. In person, not in a stupid picture.”
She shivered in his arms. “Keep talking like that and you won’t have to wait long.” She slapped her hand over her mouth, then spread her fingers apart. “See, that’s something the old Marti would’ve said.”
He kissed her again. “Old Marti, new Martina. It’s going to be fun getting to know you.” He backed her up against a wall to continue that kiss.
***
It w
as three in the morning and Martina was doing her best to sneak into the apartment.
The light in the living room flicked on. “And where have you been, young lady?” Keri tapped her wrist like a watch was there. “Based on the time, I’m guessing it either went really well or really bad.”
Martina flopped onto the couch next to her. “It was both, actually. The reunion was horrible. People were exactly like I thought they’d be. But my date wasn’t what I expected at all.”
Keri rubbed her hands together. “Oooh, and that’s the good part I want to hear about. What happened?”
“Not what you think. But I like him. A lot. And he helped me realize something. I haven’t just stopped flirting with men. I stopped flirting with life. I tried so hard to stop being the class flirt that I wasn’t sure who to be next. And I haven’t been myself, that’s for sure.”
“Well done. So what happened with everyone from school?” Keri asked.
“Nightmare. They all avoided me and gossiped about me in the bathroom. Then they dragged the class favorites up in front of everyone and I snapped.”
“Snapped? This sounds promising,” Keri said.
“Don’t get too excited. I just told everyone I wasn’t who they thought and that the damn picture was a mistake—and that so was coming to the reunion.”
“Damn, I hope someone got your tirade on video. Was anyone taping?”
Martina smiled. “I don’t know, but Jackson smashed someone’s phone when they tried to show him the picture.”
“I knew I liked him. You’ve got a work romance brewing, girlfriend!”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Martina flipped open her laptop.
Keri groaned. “Oh good lord, are you checking your e-mail? I thought you were going to be the new and improved Martina.”
“I’m still going to be responsible about work. I was waiting to hear from a client. I’m going to let them know I’m not available until Monday. I need some more balance in my life.” Martina opened her e-mail account. She squinted at the screen. “What the hell?” There were several e-mail messages from Jefferson alumni. A few from former friends. Like Laney.
“Very cool what you did tonight,” she wrote. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time how sorry I was. Really. I wanted to talk to you tonight, but didn’t know what to say. Please come tomorrow night? A lot of people want to see you. Seriously. Laney.”
Martina laughed. “People are asking me to go to the reunion tomorrow.”
“They’re probably wondering if you’ll start a fight this time.” Keri’s eyes widened. “Would you? Would you punch some of those bitches who were mean to you? You should totally go.”
“You know what? I will.”
Keri pumped her fist in the air. “Get the girl fight on tape, please?”
“I’m not going to fight. I think there are other people who want to clear up a few things from the past. Plus, Jackson said he’d take me again if I wanted to go.”
“Get it on, girl!” Keri said.
“You have to promise never say that to me again,” Martina said, trying to sound mad.
Keri got up and walked toward her bedroom. “Wake me up when you get a sense of humor.”
“I will.” But for now, finding her self-respect was a good start. And finding Jackson was even better. She fiddled for her phone and sent him a text: “I thought it was going to be one of the worst nights of my life. Turned out to be one of the best.”
She was sitting there, holding the phone, remembering how good it felt to be in his arms, when her phone buzzed.
“Good,” he wrote back. “And it’s only going to get better from here.”
She kicked off her shoes and started thinking about what tattoo she might let Jackson put on her someday. Whatever it was, it was going right over her heart.
Crush
“Do I look okay?” Cathy Blake asked, turning around in front of the mirror. She’d spent hours shopping for the perfect dress and this was the fourth one she’d bought. It was too late to return it now. But she was pleased with how the pink silk fabric hugged her curves and showed off her legs.
“You look so good, even I’m admiring your butt,” Selena Jones said, swirling the wine in her glass as she sat on Cathy’s bed. “Seriously, people are going to have to sit down tonight because you’re going to sweep them off their feet.” She made a dramatic sweeping gesture with her arm, causing some of the wine to slosh out of the glass. “Your eyes glow in that. Like they aren’t blue enough to begin with. You look amazing. Entirely different from high school.” Selena pointed at her. “Be sure to wear a name tag ’cause people will be saying, ‘Who’s that girl?’”
Cathy put a hand on her hip. “So, I didn’t look amazing in high school?”
“You know what I mean.” Selena looked up at the ceiling. “This is how it must be for a husband whose wife says do I look fat in this?”
Cathy gasped. “I look fat?”
“No! You’re gorgeous. I just mean that you really blossomed after high school. Some girls in our class blossomed in middle school. I swear, Brandi Parkman’s parents got her a boob job the summer before eighth grade. She had her time in the sun. Now it’s your turn. Tonight is going to be your night. We purposely didn’t go yesterday just so you could be the center of attention tonight. Make the most of it.”
Cathy touched up her lipstick while the Pink CD she still had from high school played in the background. “Well, I don’t really care about everybody, I just hope Peter Schmidt notices.” She smacked her lips in the mirror.
Selena pretended to jerk back. “What? Who? Peter Schmidt? You liked him? I had no idea.”
Cathy sent a tube of lipstick sailing past Selena. It bounced off the bed onto the floor.
Selena laughed. “Sorry, for a moment there, I totally forgot we followed him home after the football game that day. And hid behind the bushes in his backyard and watched him eat dinner with his family.”
“He had lasagna with salad and garlic bread. He took three pieces.” Cathy smiled dreamily. “What an appetite he has.”
“Oh, and I just remembered the party you threw senior year just so he could come and that you ended up grounded for a month,” Selena continued.
Cathy sighed. “And he didn’t come.”
“But he’ll come tonight,” Selena said with a smirk. “Maybe a few times if you’re lucky.” This time, a hairbrush flew past her head. “Careful! You might hit me. You didn’t make the softball team, remember?”
“Well, I don’t think that will happen.”
“No, no softball team for you. You run fast but you throw like a girl,” Selena said.
Cathy ignored her. “I can’t just say hi and then sleep with him.”
“We’re talking about Peter Schmidt. And you—his number one stalker. I think sleeping with him is a very good probability.”
“I can’t even think about that right now.” Cathy sat on the bed next to Selena. “I’m still not sure what I’m going to say. Do I just tell him I lusted after him forever, or do I ask if he wrote the poem?”
Selena scrunched her nose. “Sorry, I still don’t think it was him. Peter Schmidt didn’t have to write poems to get girls. He didn’t have to do anything to get girls. They followed him everywhere. They presented themselves to him. Seriously, I heard Brandi had herself delivered in a box to him.”
Cathy stood up and started pacing the room. “I know it doesn’t sound like him. But he was walking down the hall right before I found it in my locker. And he looked back at me while I was reading the poem. Like he knew. And remember that time we kissed at the party after homecoming?” She stopped and pointed at Cathy. “That happened right before I got the poem.”
“But there wasn’t even any tongue, right? And he threw up in the bushes right after,” Selena reminded her. “So either it was a really bad kiss or he probably didn’t remember it.”
“But he wouldn’t have kissed me if he didn’t like me, right? And if it wasn’t him w
ho wrote the poem, who was it?” Cathy spritzed her perfume in the air, then stepped into the floral-scented mist. “It’s not like I had any stalkers in high school.”
“Don’t you think Peter would’ve said something about it?” Selena asked.
Cathy shrugged. “Maybe because it was so out of character for him he was flustered and didn’t say anything. Maybe he was embarrassed about puking.”
Selena set down her empty wine glass on Cathy’s bedside table, which was cluttered with hairclips and Post-it notes. “Doubtful. I don’t think Peter Schmidt has ever been embarrassed about anything. He farted in math once and three girls still chased him out of class telling him how funny he was.”
Cathy ignored her and looked up at the ceiling. “It was the nicest poem. Roses are red, your eyes are sparkling blue—”
Selena interrupted. “True love would be sweet, especially with you.” She shrugged. “It just seems like Peter Schmidt would’ve written something like, “Roses are red, my balls are blue, doggie style would be sweet, especially with two of you.”
Cathy gave Selena a playful push. “Shut up! He probably has a hidden romantic side. I’m sure it’s tortured him all these years to keep it locked away.”
“So, then ask him tonight. What do you have to lose?”
Cathy sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “You’re right. I have the poem in my purse. Maybe I’ll show it to him and see how he reacts.”
“Or maybe you could just say, ‘Peter, you can have sex with me right now if you want to.’ That’s what I would do,” Selena said.
“You would, wouldn’t you? I think I might try a slightly more subtle approach first.” Cathy grabbed her purse. “Ready? Let’s go before some other tramp gets him first.”
***
Danny Patel climbed aboard the yacht anchored at the pier. He was there a few minutes before the reunion started so there would be no chance he’d miss Cathy Blake. He’d had to get two people to cover for him at the hospital so he could get the time off from work. He’d flown all the way from Seattle on an eight-hundred-dollar ticket to be here for thirty-six hours. All because of her.
His friend Chance Carrington had promised to meet him here early, but so far, it was just Danny and some of the girls from student government who’d planned the event. They were all buzzing around Tripp McCall, the guy who’d bought the yacht to host the reunion. Danny thought he had done well for himself becoming a doctor, but Tripp had founded a multimillion-dollar company. Tough to compete with that, but he noticed Tripp holding hands with his old girlfriend, Chelsea, so he figured they were back together. Nice to have the class tycoon out of the way.