I put my notifications on mute because I’m done being burdened by the asshole of my past. As I slide my phone into my purse, the vibrations indicate I have an incoming call. Seeing Amy’s goofy face appear on my screen, I smile and answer as I leave my room and head down to the hotel restaurant for some dinner.
“Hey you, checking to make sure I haven’t been kidnapped by aliens?” I laugh, knowing how worried she was for me to venture off into the city all by my lonesome.
“Ha, nah. In my opinion, I wouldn’t mind being kidnapped by aliens. Have you ever read an alien romance? It’s actually really fucking hot. Definitely beats the sex I’m having now.”
I jump in the empty elevator and press the down button. “Well I’ll send them your way if I run into any. I’m actually headed down to the bar for some dinner. I have my hire-me-before-anyone-else outfit on, so let’s see if I get any biters.” Amy, who works in a successful marketing firm as a Senior Marketing Consultant, swears that no matter what the discrimination act says, people always hire good-looking people. Dress well, point for you. Present yourself well, point for you. Show confidence, double points for you.
Amy told me the outfit, since she picked it out, screams “I’m hot and ready to kick some workforce ass.” She also told me my ass screams “single and ready to mingle.” She also reads way too many office romance novels. I told her I wasn’t here to meet anyone. I was done with men.
“Good. Did you put your hair up so your neckline shows? Men love women with sexy necklines.”
At that, I laugh. “I forgot, but I doubt I have a sexy neckline.”
“Kasey! I would do you any day of the week. Promise you.”
Looking at my reflection in the elevator mirror, I pick my hair up and twirl it. To me, my neck looks too thin. My face looks too pale and my lips too big. I was your normal-looking girl. Average height of five-foot-five, slender with straight chestnut hair. Depending on where the sun hits, my eyes are considered hazel, to some green. True color is still up for debate.
I grunt, dropping my hair. “Well, looks like I’m just going to have to count on people noticing my expensive cardstock resume paper and hope that screams ‘hire me, I’m dedicated and super broke.’”
I hear Amy sighing into the phone and I know where this is going. “Kasey, don’t start with me again. That asshole didn’t know what he had. You’re beautiful. He fucked you up mentally and you need to realize that you’re a good person. You’re smart. Funny. Clumsy as shit, but you’re one of the best people I know. Don’t let what he did to you ruin you. Don’t lose who you are, just because he wasn’t able to appreciate it.”
I hate when she lectures me. Because her words always sound so right and it sometimes makes me feel so small. Steven truly never saw me. He never appreciated me. And he never made me feel wanted or loved. And that truly has messed me up. Because I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what I did wrong. Why I wasn’t good enough. What was I lacking? And because of that, I cannot stop constantly feeling inadequate.
“Kasey, I’m serious. Get out of your head. One day somebody is going to come along and change the way you feel about love. And then hopefully that person goes and kicks your ex’s ass.”
I begin to giggle because I have dreamt about beating up Steven so many times myself that just the thought makes me feel a little bit better.
“Well me too. But this trip isn’t about finding love, Amy. It’s about finding a job so I can stop living in your spare bedroom and start living like a real grown up.”
I hear her gasp, appalled at my comment. “You said you enjoyed eating cereal for dinner every night!” she jokes, knowing I love cereal.
“I do. But it’s time I get my life together. I need to walk on my own two feet. And stop allowing you to spoon feed me Cinnamon Toast Crunch every night.”
And she knows it’s time.
It’s time I get back to my rules and lines and stop trying to live a life I wasn’t meant to live.
Another long sigh. “I get ya, girl. Go make me proud and land a job. Hey, how are the heels?”
I look down at my feet that are in shoes three inches too tall for me, begging to be ripped off. I have zero game in balancing; add in my clumsiness and I know these shoes are setting me up for disaster. “Well I haven’t broken anything, fallen into anything, or taken anything out, so for the time being, they’re good.”
The elevator door dings, indicating I’ve arrived onto the first floor. “I’ll make sure to call you tomorrow and let you—” I take one step out of the elevator and my heel slips on the marble floor, causing me to trip. My phone goes flying and I know I’m about to eat the floor. I close my eyes and brace for impact, but I never feel the cold flooring across my face.
“Whoa there.” A deep voice hums too close to my ear, while two very strong arms wrap around my waist. “I’m used to women throwing themselves at me, but this…” The man chuckles, trying to help me back on my feet.
That did not just happen.
Can this be any more humiliating? I knew with my clumsiness the heels were a bad idea. I avoid making eye contact with my savior, even though my thoughts are stuck on how rock solid he feels. It doesn’t go unnoticed that his cologne smells expensive, and delicious. All this talk with Amy about finding a man has my thoughts going to sex.
Jesus, Kasey.
Now I’m even more embarrassed that I’m thinking about sex while this stranger holds me. Ugh. I pull myself together and break from his hefty grip.
“I’m so sorry, these heels, they… they…” My tongue gets lodged in my throat at the sight before me. “You…”
No way.
What the hell is he doing here?
He looks different, but the same.
His hair is shorter. His skin looks like it just met the sun on a relaxing vacation. His suit probably cost more than what I have left in my bank account. Actually, I have nothing left in my bank account. And those eyes. Still calculating. Still dangerous.
“Well look at what the cat dragged in.” He offers me a smug grin, casually sliding his hands into his suit pants pockets. His smile is dangerous. And I know better. From the small number of conversations I’ve had with Steven, I know that Creed Monroe is nothing but trouble.
I take a step back, tossing my hair out of my face and adjusting my blouse. “I’m no one’s play toy. And that’s rude to insinuate,” I reply offensively to my ex-brother-in-law. I haven’t seen Creed in over a year. After our wedding, I only saw him once more at a family dinner his mother threw for a promotion Steven got. Creed showed up late, made a few pokes at his brother, and when they got into it, he took off. Another reminder he was trouble.
“Relax sis, it wasn’t meant to offend.”
“I’m not your sis anymore,” I spit back, straightening myself until my heel bends to the side and I stumble forward. “Dammit.” I groan as two strong hands wrap around me once again.
“Ahh, yes, that’s what I heard.” Creed steadies me back on my feet, and I smack his hands off me. “What happened anyway? Couldn’t keep old Steven happy? Or did you get bored with his money? Got tired of being the doctor’s trophy wife, possibly?”
Each accusation, so far from the truth. The tears instantly well up in my eyes. It’s one thing to be humiliated at the way Steven treated me, but to be accused of being the one to fail in the relationship straight-up hurts. Before I can control my anger, my words come flying from my lips.
“Actually, your cheating brother had an affair, if you can call it that, since he and his mistress had been together before we even married. So no, apparently it was him bored of me. And for the record, I never spent a dime of his money nor did I take any. So you and your whole family can go to hell for all I care.” I move out of his line of vision, ready to flee. I see my phone a few feet away and bend down to grab for it.
“Dammit,” I cry again, seeing the cracked screen. I don’t turn around when I hear Creed call my name and without taking another spill in these
stupid shoes, I hurry towards the restaurant.
The waitress puts another round of drinks on my table when Creed slides into the opposite side of the secluded booth I requested in the back of the restaurant. I didn’t want anyone seeing me while I cried and I certainly didn’t want to see a potential headhunter.
“What are you doing, get out of here,” I snap as I grab my new drink.
He ignores my request and turns to the waitress. “I’ll have a double scotch. And bring another one of whatever she’s having.” He dismisses the waitress and turns back to me.
“What did you mean, my brother cheated on you?”
What? Is he for real? “You’re kidding me right now, right?”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?” And he doesn’t. His normally rich blue eyes are darkened and his facial expression stone serious.
“Exactly what I just said. He cheated. Had been the entire time we were together. If you even call us that,” I state, taking a hefty sip of my vodka tonic. I told myself only one drink tonight for show but after my run-in with Creed, I need more than one to calm down.
Creed doesn’t respond to my confession. He simply stares, not taking his searing eyes off me. “What, shocked? Your saint of a brother did someone wrong? Well, surprise! He’s actually a total jerk.” I cynically laugh, taking another sip. Seems that comment gets a reaction. I watch as his eyes widen just a bit, shocked at my admission. “What? Didn’t you know?” I wait for him to answer, until he does. Then I’m the one shocked.
“No.”
“No? What did he tell you all when he came out and said he wasn’t married anymore?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “You wanted out. That you were unhappy and left him.”
My mouth is practically to the floor.
That lying son of a bitch.
I take my drink and drain the remainder of the liquid. The waitress shows up with Creed’s drink and my new round. I don’t even wait for her to place it on the table before snatching it out of her hands and pounding that one.
“Keep these coming. There’s a big tip in it for you,” I hear Creed tell the waitress and she’s off. He doesn’t say anything more to me. He sits there, assessing, while I make it to the bottom of my drink. Slamming it on the table, I inhale a deep breath, then exhale, hoping all the pain and anger leave with it.
“Why are you still sitting here? You got what you wanted. You can leave now.”
He takes a sip of his amber drink. “I’m not sure you want to be alone right now.”
How dare he act like he knows me. Knows what I want right now. I sit up straighter, feeling the alcohol. “You know nothing about me.”
He quickly leans over the table, startling me, causing my shoulders to hit the backside of the booth. “I can tell my brother hurt you.” His tone darkens, his eyes showing no more of his deep blue irises. His hand reaches out, covering mine, and I watch as his thumb begins to caress the side of mine.
“Wha… what are you doing?”
At my question, he brings his eyes to our connected hands. The realization of his actions has him pulling away, leaning back, and taking another large sip of his scotch. “I always wondered how he got someone like you. Beautiful, innocent. Too kind for the likes of my asshole brother.”
His caring words surprise me. The way Creed always looked at me, I assumed he didn’t like me. Thought his brother was too good for someone like me. “I thought you and your brother were close. He never mentioned us having problems?”
“Do you really want the answer to that?” he asks, and a part of me probably doesn’t.
“Yes, I do.”
“First off, my brother and I are very different. We’re cordial on a good day.”
I nod, intrigued at this information.
“And as for what he said about you two, he painted you as the spoiled, stereotypical gold-digger. Showed him no attention. Spent his money. Used him until you were sick of him and left. I don’t have to tell you that my mother never truly cared for you, so she ate it up. Gave him the referral for the divorce lawyer.”
I can’t seem to keep my jaw from hitting the table. I’m not upset anymore. I’m livid. “That lying son of a bitch,” I bite, my hands turning into fists. How could he do that to me? After everything. He couldn’t even leave me with my dignity, but to drag my name through the mud as well? He couldn’t take the blame for his own actions. “I can’t believe him.” I bow my head, shaking off the realization that he played me the entire time.
“He’s an asshole.”
I raise my head. “Damn right he’s an asshole.”
We stare at one another, and a strange thing happens. Creed Monroe smiles at me. It causes my cheeks to instantly flush. I force myself to break our eye contact and turn to the waitress who’s now setting another round of drinks on our table.
“I shouldn’t drink anymore. I have an important day tomorrow.” Knowing the three I’ve already had are three too many. “I actually should be going back to my room.” I begin to scoot out of the booth when Creed lifts his leg, setting his foot on my side of the seat to block my retreat.
“No.”
What? “Excuse me?”
“Stay. Have one more drink with me. Tell me why you’re in Atlanta.”
I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or the intense way he’s looking at me, but I go against my better judgment to hightail it back to my room and throw my shoulders back against the booth. “Okay. Maybe for a bit. I’m here for a job fair, actually. Since I’d rather be homeless than take a cent from your brother, my own bank account’s dwindled fast, and I need a job. I couldn’t find one in Spokane so I was referred to this job fair. Heard it’s the best on the East Coast.”
“Why do you need a job? You’re just a kid.”
That breaks any sort of fair grounds we were building between one another. My shoulders are off the booth and ready for another fight. “For your information, I’m twenty-four. Way past childhood. You certainly don’t look much older than I do.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” he laughs. “Still a lot younger than my thirty-two-year-old brother.”
Why does he have to even mention him?
“You said you didn’t take any of his money. Why? He certainly owed it to you.”
It’s my turn to shrug. “Because I wanted nothing from him. He made it perfectly clear I was nothing from the start. His money would have made no difference in the pain he caused me. I just wanted to move on. Plus, he can worry about his whore, Mary, spending it.”
Instantly, a feral look radiates in his eyes, unsettling me. His jaw clenches as if something I just said angered him. “What did you just say?” I wasn’t stuttering— “The name,” he demands, more sternly.
Geez. “Who, Mary? They can have each other. Why are you even asking me these questions? You’ve never been nice to me before or even shown interest, why start now? I’m not a part of your family anymore; there’s no requirement to befriend me.”
He brings his leg down, leaning forward so I have a clear view of his face. God, he certainly is attractive. That bad boy persona, all dressed up in an expensive suit. “Because I knew right from the start that you should never have married him. You were too good for him and he was going to ruin you. I was angry with you that you couldn’t see that.”
Whoa! Angry with me? Slow down, pal. “How so? You didn’t even know me.”
“I knew the look in your eyes at your wedding that shined with love, but uncertainty. Let me guess. You wanted the big beautiful wedding, but he talked you out of it?”
I’m ashamed to answer, so I don’t. He takes my silence for agreement, so he continues.
“How about at our bullshit family dinner? He didn’t even say one word to you. Did he ever talk to you? Appreciate you? Or was it always about him?”
I’m not wanting to have this conversation anymore. “I think we’re done here.” Forcing myself not to show how upset he’s making me. Steven barely ever talked to me. And if he did, h
e was doing twelve other things and hardly ever responded to the actual question I asked. He didn’t praise me when I finished school, thank me for managing the house or dinners, or ever notice how hard I tried to keep him interested in me. Mainly because he was never looking.
“He never saw you, did he?”
“Stop,” I plead.
“Did he give you what you needed in the bedroom?”
“I said stop.”
“I want to know. Did he not show you just how beautiful you were in bed? Did he fuck you like you should be fucked? Did he—”
“STOP!” I scream, drawing attention to our table. I’m suddenly flushed and my heart is beating out of my chest. How dare he talk so openly about my sex life with his brother. Intimate parts of my relationship that he has no business questioning.
“He didn’t, did he?”
I want to raise my hand and smack him until all the shame and anger disappear. “Your brother barely touched me. Is that what you want to hear? He didn’t see me at all. And when he did, it was meaningless sex probably just to shut me up. I was inexperienced. Who would want to come home to that when you had something better at work. He didn’t want me or anything I had to offer. Does that answer appease you?”
“No. It makes me want to rip my brother’s throat out.”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you even here with me?”
“Because I think you want revenge… and I think I can help get that for you.”
“Oh I do? And how would you be the one to help me get revenge?”
“By sleeping with me.”
I gasp loud enough for aliens on Mars to hear. “What did you just say?”
“What would be more of a kick to the balls than sleeping with your ex’s brother?”
“You want to have sex with me. In order to help me get revenge?”
“I would be willing to take one for the team.” He smiles as if it would be less taking one for the team, and more of a pleasant reward.
“You’re crazy,” I tell him, picking up my fresh drink and taking a sip. Maybe I have drunk way too much and this is all in my head.
Creed leans forward once again and replies, “Crazy I might be, but this is a chance to win. Beat him at his own game. And maybe have some fun while you’re at it. I’ve been told I’m dynamite in bed.” He ends on a wink.
Creed's Expectations Page 2