Karma

by Charity Ferrell

  I huffed, reaching the top step. “You didn’t do a very good job at hiding it.”

  Her pale lips formed a tight smile. “Neither did my husband,” she replied coldly. She veered to the left, moving out of our way and allowing us entry into her home. Asher was right, she was loaded; John was a wealthy man, but there was no way he could’ve afforded a place like that. His wife was paying the bill while he was out playing with girls half her age, and I sensed she wasn’t very happy with that.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked. If my dad found out I let this happen under my watch, he’d have my ass.

  She threw her arms out, motioning for us to sit down on a plush, white sofa that looked like it had never been touched before. The room was filled with pictures of John and Edith with their children. I knew from doing my research he had three kids who were in their twenties and one still in her teens. It sucked he was risking his entire family for part-time flings with women who only used him.

  “Would you like some tea?” she asked, and I noticed a hint of an English accent. We both declined and she nodded her head, realizing we weren’t there for small talk. “My husband needed to be exposed for what he is: a no-good, cheating bastard. I couldn’t be the one to do it, so I convinced one of his brainless mistresses to do my dirty work,” she said, proud of herself for pulling it off.

  “You do realize we can tell him you’re the one who paid her?” I asked, raising a brow.

  She gave me an obnoxious laugh. “Oh, please, my dear, be my guest. I’d love for that cowardly bastard to know it was me. That is, if he ever decided to come home and face his wife and family.”

  “If you don’t care about him knowing, why did you pay someone else to do it?” Gabby asked, moving closer to my side.

  Edith looked entirely too eager to explain herself. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from John; I couldn’t care less if the spineless bastard knows it was me. I needed to hide my participation from the public. I will not be made out to be some scorned woman who goes and cries to the public about her unfaithful husband.”

  “Yet, that’s exactly what you did,” I fired back.

  Her face scrunched up and wrinkles formed around her eyes. “I’m not going to let them know I have it out for him. That’s not good for my family’s name, and I’m prepared to fight anyone who makes such accusations. And by the way, Mr. Douglas,” I arched an eyebrow at her knowledge. She’d done her research. She knew exactly who I was. “Your family may be wealthy, but they’re nothing compared to the money and power my family have.” I nodded my head at her threat, choosing to keep my mouth shut. She was the last person I needed to be going up against; she held my fate in her hands. “My lawyers have begun drawing up our divorce papers. Now that his affair is public knowledge, our infidelity clause is void. That son of a bitch won’t get a dime of my money. Not even a penny.”

  I leaned forward, closer into her space and rested my elbows on my knees. “So, there’s no way you’d stay by his side and support him through these false claims?” I asked, hopeful. “Don’t you want that White House bid? You’d make a stunning first lady.” I hoped I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.

  “Absolutely not,” she snarled her face serious. There was no convincing her otherwise.

  I was fucked. My career had made it a few good weeks before blowing up into a big fucked up, love affair disaster.

  Gabby fell into my passenger seat and dabbed some gloss onto her lips. “I think I like her, Edith Gentry,” she said, imitating her proper, English accent.

  “I’m sure you do because she reminds you of yourself,” I replied, debating whether or not to tell my dad about Edith or attempt to fix it on my own.

  She fixed her eyes on me and sucked in her cheeks. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m far from being a scorned woman.”

  I started my car and rested my hand on her thigh. “Babe, her strength and stubbornness is all you,” I explained. Gabby would’ve fired back the same way as Edith if she found out a guy was playing games with her heart. I hoped to God she wouldn’t see me as doing the same thing as John. I’d convinced myself plenty of times that my situation was different from theirs. She was the only girl I wanted in my bed. I wasn’t touching any other girls that weren’t her; not even Eva. I just hoped she’d see it my way, too, when everything was going to come back and bite me in the ass.

  “That better be a compliment, mister,” she said, her eyes pointed at me.

  I smiled and drove through the wide driveway as the gate opened. “That’s definitely a compliment, babe. Now, what time do you want me to pick you up tonight?”

  She slumped down into her seat, her curly hair blowing in the wind from my window being half-down. “For what? Please tell me we don’t have to work again.”

  “You won our bet. I owe you dinner.” I couldn’t believe I was celebrating her being right and me being fucked. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”

  She sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest. “Not tonight, I’m exhausted. I didn’t get my full amount of sleep, considering this rude person came into my room and threatened me with water.”

  I braked at a red light and peered over at her. “Come on, we won’t be out late. I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll go to dinner, and I promise I’ll have you back before your bedtime.” After our shitty day, I needed to have a better night with her.

  The door swung open, and an unhappy, shirtless Asher brooded in the doorway. “You stole my dinner date, asshole,” he grumbled. “You better bring me something back.”

  I chuckled. "Like a doggy bag?"

  "Ha ha, screw you." He let me in and glanced up the staircase before glaring at me. "What the hell are you trying to do with her, man?"

  His question surprised me. I liked my cousin, but we weren't that close. "Nothing," I lied. I had no idea what was going on with Gabby, but I knew it sure as hell wasn’t ‘nothing’. Something about her kept making me want to be near her all the time, even when I knew it was a bad-fucking idea.

  His voice was strained when he fired back. "She's been through a lot, and she's a good girl. She's not one of your sluts who don't give a shit they're having a fling with a guy who’s getting married. I didn't have the heart to tell her about your fiancée, but you need to. There are plenty of other chicks out there; go find one of them to be your side hoe, not her."

  I held up my hand to stop him. I didn't need him reminding me Gabby could hate me after she found out and ruin my entire night. "We're just going to dinner. That's it. Nothing more." I was definitely making it a date, but he didn't need to know that.

  "Remember what I said," he warned, looking directly in my eyes. He liked her; I fucking knew it. Asher was a good guy, a guy who deserved to have Gabby. I wasn't. I knew I was getting married, but I was a selfish bastard. I didn't want the nice, deserving guy to have her. I wanted to have her. And like all selfish bastards do, I was going to do everything in my fucking power to get just what I wanted.

  Our stare-down ended as heels hitting the stairs echoed through the room, and our eyes moved up to find Gabby strutting down the steps. My heartbeat quickened as my eyes feasted on the tight, crimson colored dress that hugged every curve of her hourglass body and high, strappy heels covering her manicured feet. I licked my lips; my eyes moving to her auburn hair falling down against her cleavage in loose curls and was held back from her flawless face with a sparkly headband. I winced at an elbow ramming into my side. “Change your fucking thoughts,” Asher demanded.

  "Fuck you.” He was checking her out just as much as I was.

  She hit the bottom stair, and I held out my hand to her. "You ready to go?"

  "I'm starving," she answered, grabbing my hand to help her down the stairs and giving me a shy smile. She grabbed her bag from the couch, and her attention went to Asher. "You sure you don't want to come with us?" What the hell? She'd just invited him to chaperone our date? Technically, she didn't know it was a date, but I sure as hell wasn't pla
nning on sharing her.

  Asher shook his head, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as he kissed the top of her hair. "I'm good, babe." Thank God, I was prepared to break his legs if he tried to be the third wheel. "But don't be too late. We've got those True Blood episodes we need to catch up on."

  Her face lit up. "Don’t worry; I'll be home shortly to see my future hubby, Eric." Who the fuck was Eric? And why the fuck was I becoming so damn jealous?

  He looked down at her and shook his head. "I don't get what you see in him."

  Gabby smacked his arm, and I shifted from one foot to the other, watching their banter. "Oh, really? I don't get what you see in Sookie. She's like the ultimate slut fang-banger."

  "She's a fairy! Who the hell doesn't like fairies?"

  "Fang-banger?" I asked, breaking into their conversation.

  "It's a True Blood thing," Gabby answered, like they were in some secret club. She pulled out of Asher’s hold and kissed him on the cheek before joining me at the door.

  I'd wanted to keep it low-key with her for dinner. On most occasions when I'd go out, it would end up turning into a damn social event. Everyone either knew my dad or me and wanted to stop and talk. I didn't want that to happen with Gabby. I wanted no interruptions while I was with her, so I brought her to my favorite Mexican restaurant. It was a hole in the wall, but I loved everything about the place.

  "You look gorgeous," I complimented, sliding into the old, worn-out booth across from her.

  "Thanks," she responded. "And thanks for dinner. I've never been here before." She glanced around the room, taking in the decor. The stucco walls were lined with sombreros along with black-and-white photos. The bar in the front corner of the room was packed with people drinking margaritas and chatting amongst each other.

  "Best Mexican food around Atlanta." I grabbed a chip and scooped up some salsa before plopping it into my mouth. "And you're welcome, even though you earned it."

  She leaned in and grabbed a chip. "I'm actually surprised. I pretty much suck at this job."

  I shook my head. "You don't suck at it."

  She swallowed. "Be honest." Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. There was a fuck of a lot more shit I needed to be honest with her about.

  "You don't suck, but you're not the best. Sound better?"

  "Eh, that works. I can't be perfect at everything," she joked, popping another chip into her mouth. Our waiter brought us our food, and I inhaled the spicy scent of the fajitas sitting in front of me. My mouth watered as I dug in. "So, why don't you have a boyfriend?" I asked, taking a huge bite.

  "I'm cursed," she answered matter-of-factly, no bullshit.

  I stared at her, waiting for the punch line but got nothing. She was serious. "You're joking, right?" I asked.

  She pointed her fork at me and swung it back and forth. "Nope, I'm cursed. Any time I’ve ever attempted to have an actual relationship, it's gone to complete hell. I mean, not even lasting longer than a few weeks before something's went wrong."

  I reached over and snagged a bite of her enchilada with my fork. "You just got out of high school; I'm pretty sure that's not out of the ordinary."

  She set her fork down. "You know how they say karma always comes back to bite you in the ass, or what goes around comes around?"

  I nodded my head. "Did you kill someone or something?" I asked, curiously.

  She shook her head. "No, my mom had an affair and broke up a perfectly happy marriage. Now, you'd think good old lady karma would lash out on the person who did it, but she didn't. It's done nothing but give her complete happiness, and I’m happy for her. It just sucks that she decided to torture me instead."

  I crumpled my napkin in my hand and looked at her glowing cheeks taking another bite of her food. "Where in the hell did you get this theory?"

  "I read about it. Plus, it's well known. When you mess with karma, it can mess with you or other people around you."

  "Karma is an old myth that people like to use when someone pisses them off."

  She used her hand, swatting away a few flyaway hairs from her face. "I'd be careful talking that way about karma. That bitch is ruthless."

  "Baby, I'll repeat, you're only eighteen. People don't find love that young. They fall in lust."

  "You're right, but a lot of people think they find love. They have their happy, sappy puppy love, but not me. My life was fine before my mom decided to marry Kenneth. I had a boyfriend at my old school, and we were happy."

  I rubbed my chin, my attention stuck on her. "So what happened?"

  "We moved here, and he broke up with me. He said he couldn't do the whole long-distance-relationship thing."

  I nodded. "That's pretty understandable."

  She reached for her drink and flipped the straw with her tongue. "It's only forty minutes away.” She tapped her finger against her temple. “Karma got into his head."

  "Or he became a horny teenage boy," I fired back, attempting to talk some sense into her.

  She frowned. "Freshman year, I dated a kid for like a month, and he cheated on me with a girl he met at summer camp. Sophomore year, a senior asked me to prom. I went, but it turns out it was just some stupid ploy to get me to sleep with him so he could win a bet. He even slipped me some date-rape drug or something," she revealed. "But luckily, Cora and Lane were there for me. Also during sophomore year-"

  My fork slammed down against the plate, and my eyes saw red. "Who the fuck was that?" I demanded angrily, cutting her off.

  She flicked her hand up in the air. "That's not important."

  My lips curled. "The fuck it isn’t. Who the fuck was it?"

  "Jimmy King," she breathed out. "So, anyways, sophomore year, I also went to a homecoming dance with Dirk but wouldn't put out. So he decided to tell everyone in the locker room, and Keegan Montgomery, my friend Daisy's boyfriend, punched his face in for it. Then guys didn’t want to date me because they all thought I didn't put out. Which I normally don't," she said, her voice trailing off.

  I didn't catch on to everything she said because I was still trying to wrap my mind around what she had just revealed. "Jimmy King date-raped you for a bet?" I interrupted. I didn't give a shit about her failed relationships anymore. All I cared about was someone had tried to hurt her and take what belonged to me. Jimmy King was a few years younger than I was, but he was also my friend. Well, he used to be, but I doubted we would be any longer when I beat the shit out of him after hearing this.

  “He wanted to date-rape me. Big difference. Nothing happened.”

  "That is not a big difference. Why the fuck didn't you tell anyone?" I suddenly lost my appetite.

  "We did. He got suspended and put on probation."

  "That's it?" Why hadn't I heard about that? I was sure his parents probably paid someone to bury that shit. Shit, I wouldn't doubt if they’d hired Douglas PR.

  "Nothing happened. There are too many girls out there who actually get raped. It was ridiculous to get all bent out of shape about it. Plus, Jimmy felt bad about it. He was a dumb teenage boy who was getting peer-pressured. I think he actually wanted to get caught because he made it so obvious.”

  "He could've done it to other girls." I moved my neck around to get rid of the sudden stiffness.

  "No, I overheard him talking to his friends. It was just one stupid bet."

  I needed to get my mind on something else before I jumped out of the booth and hunted Jimmy down. "Why did you leave in the middle of the night?" She flinched at my question, and I knew I’d caught her off guard.

  "You sure know how to keep a conversation light," she laughed. "I'm not really sure. I guess I just kind of freaked out. I wanted to get away from the impending morning awkwardness I've heard horror stories about. Plus, could you have imagined what would've happened if we got caught? You seriously would've been shunned from your family."

  "That's not true."

  "Your family hates me."

  "They don't hate you." She gave me a look. "Okay, a few people in
my family dislike your mother, not you. It may seem like they take it out on you at times. I don't think it's right, and I've never felt that way about you." Talking about my family wasn’t the direction I was going for. "You know, you shocked the hell out of me that night when you came into my room."

  A soft pink lit up her cheeks. "I shocked the hell out of myself. That was so not planned."

  I smiled. "I'm glad you did."

  She snorted. "Of course, you are. You got laid."

  I took a drink of water. "True, but you gave me something special. You let me be the first person to have you."

  "Okay, Romeo, I was being reckless and just ready to get it over with," she replied, suddenly looking embarrassed.

  I reached over and grabbed her hand in mine. "You shouldn't have just wanted to get that over with." I was glad she did it with me, but I still wasn't too happy she had ’just wanted to get it over with.’ Was I just some random guy she picked out from a line-up?

  She looked down at our hands and looked back at me, her eyes shuttering. "What was going through your mind that night?"

  "First, I was confused as hell; I thought my drunk ass was imagining you. Then you attacked me-"

  Her hand left mine and she pointed at me. "Hold it right there, buddy, I didn't attack you."

  I grinned. "You attacked me."

  "I kissed you!"

  "More like ravished me. You had my clothes off before I even realized what the fuck was going on."

  She covered her face. "Sorry, I get stupid when I drink. I was having a bad night. All of my friends had gone on vacation for the holiday, but my mom forced me to go to that damn party. I was unhappy, lonely and drinking. Not a good combination." She looked down and began to pick at her food.

  I reached across the table again and brought her face up to look at me. "You don't have to apologize to me. You gave me something special; something you’d been holding onto for years. I should be thanking you, so thank you." I bowed my head down to her.