James: A College Girl Romance

by Sheila Grace

  “Ten, fourteen.”

  She tapped it in.

  “Any significance?” she asked distractedly as she searched my contacts.

  “It was my mother’s birthday.”

  She stopped and looked up at me.

  “Was?” she asked with barely any volume.

  “She died when I was thirteen.”

  When I looked over at her again, her eyes were full of tears.

  “Has anything good ever happened to you?” she murmured.

  You, I thought. We rode in silence until my phone vibrated.

  “What did Irving say?” I asked.

  She looked down.

  “He said Blake said to tell you you’re a bloody bastard … and I don’t really feel like saying the other word he called you.”

  I smiled.

  “Is he meeting us or not?”

  “Forty-five minutes, according to Matt, who I’m still pissed at, by the way.”

  I grinned and increased my speed. No sense in letting Blake beat me there.

  “Aww, lovely. Don’t be mad at Irving. He doesn’t do anything without my say so.”

  “That makes him your lackey,” Cass shot back.

  “That makes him well compensated. What’s your friend’s address?”

  She gave me the address before falling silent again. Within ten minutes I pulled up at an apartment complex a few miles from Cass’s new complex. It wasn’t as nice as the one I had set up for her, but in comparison to the shit hole Cass had been living in, it was the Ritz.

  “Vicki’s in unit two-twenty,” she said before getting out.

  I stepped out and opened the back door. As soon as I had swung her friend into my arms, Cass began leading the way into the interior of the complex. At her friend’s unit, Cass began knocking on the door. Two minutes later, a sour-faced girl in a neon pink tube top and white shorts answered the door. She gave Cass a nasty look before her eyes slid to me.

  “Looks like I shoulda gone out with you guys,” the roommate said as she eye-fucked me without a modicum of concern for her unconscious roommate.

  When she opened the door wider, I saw a lump of a guy sitting on the couch staring at the TV. Cass gestured down the hall, and I followed her until we reached a bedroom with a startling number of stuffed animals.

  “Vick has a thing for stuffed animals,” Cass said unnecessarily as I laid her friend on the double bed. “I’m going to get her something to drink.”

  I nodded and looked around the room. Such a stark difference from the room at Cass’s old apartment. Irving had sent me the pictures. No stuffed unicorns or pink teddy bears. It had looked like a sixty-year-old accountant had lived in her bedroom. When Cass came back a few minutes later with a sports drink and a small trash can, the blonde with the sour face was a few steps behind her.

  “You guys need anything?” she asked in a voice that was like nails on a chalkboard.

  Cass gave her a brief, disbelieving look as I shook my head.

  “I’m Amber, by the way,” she said, holding out her hand to me.

  I shook her hand and pulled back. I almost felt bad leaving Blake here with this man-eater, but considering I had given him some of his biggest contracts, he owed me.

  “You want anything to drink? I’ve got Red Bull and vodka, Jack and Diet Coke, Corona …”

  “That’s all right,” I smiled.

  When she finally left, Cass looked over at me and shook her head.

  “Speaking of females who would fuck you in a heartbeat,” she said under her breath.

  “Lovely? Did I ever say I had no standards at all?”

  She smirked before rushing over to help her friend sit up when the girl groaned.

  “Vick? You okay?”

  I smiled when I heard a knock at the front door of the apartment. Blake was early. Limey bastard. I reached the door just as the sour-faced girl swung it open. Her expression said it all. Jackpot. Blake’s expression was classic when he looked over her head at me. I struggled for a moment to remember the girl’s name.

  “Amber?” I said, which caused her to grin widely. “He’s with me.”

  When she reached up and traced her finger over Blake’s pec, I made a small effort to hide my grin.

  “Cass never told me she was hiding such good-looking friends,” she said coyly.

  I looked over at the loser on the couch and felt a fleeting moment of pity for him. On second thought, hooking up with this girl was on him. I gestured to Blake, and he began following to the friend’s bedroom.

  “That had better not be the reason I’m here, mate,” he snarled in a low tone.

  I walked into the bedroom and pointed at the drunken girl, who was currently bent over the trash can. Cass looked up with a wry expression. Then she saw Blake and laughed.

  “Do you owe James money or something?”

  “Is the redhead the reason I’m here? If so, I owe you, mate,” he whispered.

  I gritted my teeth.

  “Cass, this is Jasper Blake, personal protection expert. Blake, Cass is …” I stopped myself before I could say mine. “Cass’s friend is in need of assistance.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Jasper,” Cass said.

  I felt a flare of jealousy as he walked over, took her hand in his, and kissed it.

  “The pleasure is all mine.”

  “Cass’s friend Vicki needs someone to keep an eye on her,” I said, gesturing toward the blitzed girl.

  “Hold up, mate. You brought me here in the middle of the night to watch some bladdered girl? You must be bloody daft. This is going to cost you.”

  “When has payment ever been a problem, mate? And this bladdered girl, as you so genteelly referred to her, has a rather unpleasant ex-boyfriend who happens to be keenly familiar with a certain schedule-three controlled substance. Cass here doesn’t want to leave her alone.”

  Vicki sat up suddenly, and her biggest assets certainly didn’t escape Blake’s attention.

  “I just need you to get her through the night. Then it will be me who owes you.”

  “Anything for my old mate,” Blake said cheekily.

  It was good to know that a pair of awesome tits could improve his mood so drastically. I reached for Cass’s hand and began to pull her from the room as Blake followed us.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Cass asked.

  “Blake is the best,” I assured her before hanging back to have a word with him.

  “You want the bloke dropped in the desert with his willy hanging out?” Blake asked quietly.

  I shook my head.

  “But by all means, if he shows up here, you can make it clear to him that the girl is off limits.”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll make sure it’s sorted. What’s the story with the little redhead? Is she up for grabs when you’re done with her?”

  I stopped abruptly.

  “If you even have a less than pure thought about her, we’re done.”

  When he laughed, I grabbed him at the shoulder. He stared at me for several seconds and then smiled.

  “I’m not buying it, McDevitt. Since when have you cared one whit about a piece of—”

  “Since now.”

  He nodded slowly with an inscrutable expression, and I slapped him on the back before walking to the front door where Cass was waiting. I was going to have to watch my back with Blake, too. Vicki’s roommate was lurking, so clearly her date didn’t give a shit that she was openly trying to score with other guys right in front of him. Or maybe he knew she didn’t have a chance in hell. We walked outside, and when we reached the Tesla, I opened the door for Cass. When I got behind the wheel, I turned to her and smiled.

  “Your place or mine?”

  She frowned and shook her head.

  “This morning you were sure your father—or should I call him the lord of darkness—was out to get me. Now it’s all good?”

  My features hardened as I reached for my phone.

  “No, it’s not all goo
d.”

  I opened the picture of her from the club, which had been sent to me earlier by one of my father’s minions. Cass in pigtails and a naughty-schoolgirl outfit standing in front of my table. She became very still as she stared at the photograph of herself.

  “I received this after I left you at your apartment.”

  “Wh-why? Who would—”

  “My father. Leverage in case he needs it, or if he’s simply feeling vindictive.”

  She shook her head.

  “No,” she said with barely any volume.

  “So, whether I leave you alone or not, my father has already taken an interest in you. I imagine you don’t want that picture texted to your mother or future employers?”

  I started driving toward the house, and when I looked over at her, Cass was staring blankly out the windshield.

  “This can’t be happening,” she muttered. “I was only supposed to be at Fantasy Land for long enough to make the money for school, and then this was all supposed to be over. I was going to finish undergrad without debt and never think about that place again. Now some psychopath has pictures of me … and who knows what else?” She turned toward me, her eyes wide with fear. “Is he going to blackmail me? I mean, I don’t have anything except the money you gave me.”

  “He doesn’t want your money.”

  However, my father certainly wasn’t above blackmail, but I didn’t tell her that.

  “Then what does he want with me? It doesn’t make sense. I’m nobody to him. … I’m nobody to you.”

  Her words hung in the air as I pulled into the driveway.

  “You’re right.”

  I hated myself for confirming what she assumed to be the truth. But I was angry. At her. I had no right to be. I had no right to want her to think anything but the obvious, which was that she meant nothing to me.

  I stepped out of the car. When I walked around to her side and opened her door, she stared up at me with a mixture of anger—and disappointment? I held out my hand, and she hesitated before reaching out. I steadied her as she teetered in her heeled boots.

  “What do you care, then?” she asked softly without looking at me “Why do you care what your father does to me?”

  “Like my father, I care about winning. If he thinks he can use something against me, I’ll destroy him.”

  She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

  “And I thought my family was messed up.”

  I gestured toward the house and started walking. After I stepped inside, it took several seconds for her to join me.

  “So? What now?” she asked.

  “Now? A drink.”

  “You drink a lot,” she observed.

  “Everything is relative.”

  “A comeback for everything,” she added reproachfully as she walked over to the sofa. “You wanna tell me how you got the way you are?”

  “How long are you prepared to listen?” I laughed as I walked over to the liquor cabinet.

  I poured a finger of whisky and then joined her on the sofa, far enough away that I couldn’t reach out and touch her. She stared at me with a curious expression.

  “What? Not trying to get me into bed?” she asked dryly.

  “Not tonight.”

  My dick and I were definitely in disagreement about my latest tactic, but I knew how to play the long game. She eyed me doubtfully, but a moment later her posture relaxed just a fraction.

  “Tonight I’d like to hear more about you,” I added.

  “Really?”

  “Don’t seem so surprised.”

  “Remember the part about me meaning nothing to you?” she frowned. “Why do you need to know anything about me?”

  I sipped the whisky and angled myself toward her. What could I tell this girl? That I had spent the majority of my adult life avoiding both responsibility and human connection? That even those closest to me barely knew me? That I craved a closeness to her even when I couldn’t understand why?

  “Humor me,” I coaxed her. “Why did you come here of all places for school? Apart from getting away from your stepfather.””

  “Why do you say it like that? This is a really good public school!” she said defensively.

  “It is. It’s also a half hour from the nearest settlement that could be considered a city. Why not San Francisco? L.A.? San Diego? The East Coast?”

  She shrugged.

  “I don’t know. I wanted to get out of the house, but I had to stay in state for cheaper tuition. Plus, my mom didn’t want me going anywhere in the big city. I wanted to go to a good school, but I wasn’t going to get a scholarship to a private school. So—voila. I went here until I couldn’t afford to pay my rent and go to school.”

  “And why law school?”

  She exhaled.

  “Honestly? It was the first thing I ever mentioned that my mom actually got excited about when I told her. Now I’m almost twenty-four, and going to grad school just to make her happy seems stupid.”

  “Then do something you want to do.”

  She laughed.

  “Right!” she laughed. “Because doing something I want is going to pay the bills. God, you sound like that girl from my women’s lit class junior year who was majoring in Russian literature. Her dad was getting her a job as a project manager for his company straight out of school. If I don’t go to grad school to study something practical that ends up paying well … Well, I’ll end up working somewhere like Fantasy Land again because I can’t pay my bills. No thanks.” She stopped and looked around. “Do you have another bottle of that Bennett Cellars stuff?”

  I stood and walked over to retrieve one of the private-label bottles, which I uncorked. After pouring a generous glass, I walked back to Cass and handed it to her. She smelled the wine and smiled.

  “This is another reason I don’t want to be flat broke forever. Expensive wine is so much better than the cheap shit.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  I raised my glass, and she did the same.

  “What about your friend … Vicki?” I asked, very aware that for once in my life I wanted to hear a woman talk about herself.

  “We lived on the same floor freshman year. She had a normal boyfriend back then. Then we shared an apartment with a couple of other girls sophomore year. Now she’s the only friend I have left from my freshman class who hasn’t already graduated and gotten a real job somewhere else.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  She shrugged.

  “I guess I have three older sisters.”

  “You guess?”

  “My dad was way older than Mom. His other kids were from another marriage. I’ve never actually met them. They weren’t that much younger than my mom, and it sounded like they really didn’t like her and they resented me. What about you?”

  “Assorted stepsiblings, most likely several half siblings that I’ll never know about unless someone files a paternity suit against Papa McDevitt.”

  Cass coughed.

  “Oh my god! Can you stop calling him that? I think I might throw up.”

  I grinned.

  “I forget that most people aren’t quite so well acquainted with the Devil himself.”

  She looked at me curiously.

  “Do you—I mean, do you believe in all that? The Devil? God?”

  I smiled, finished my whisky, and set the glass on the table.

  “If I had believed in God and the Devil, I wouldn’t lead the life I do, would I? What do I believe? I believe in ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Live for now because it might be over soon. That, and don’t screw over the other guy too badly—because you might just come back as a cockroach. Papa—I mean my father—is absolutely coming back as a cockroach. Or, on the slim chance there is a Hell, my father has a one-way ticket. What about you? What do you believe?”

  “I don’t know. I remember sitting in church once when I was a little kid. I was only there because one of my friend’s went to church every Sunday with her pa
rents. So, I was sitting there, looking around for God in the church, and I couldn’t find anything. Plus, I was seriously freaked by the crucifix. Both my parents went to church as kids, but I guess not by the time they had me. I guess I’m just hoping there’s something after this life, because the thing that scares me the most is nothing.”

  She smiled crookedly and took another sip of wine as I contemplated the fact that this was the first time I had done this—just sat and talked with a woman without the end result involving a woman screaming, “Yes! Fuck me harder!” at the top of her lungs. There was something to be said for novelty. On the other hand, I hadn’t ruled out the possibility that my protracted celibacy was a precursor to the zombie apocalypse.

  “Afraid of nothing. That sounds like a good thing,” I said.

  Cass cocked her head to the side.

  “Funny how much your intent can change the meaning of something. I guess I should have said I’m afraid of nonexistence.”

  “Why, though? If you don’t exist, then you won’t be there to fear it.”

  She nodded.

  “Logically, yeah. I get it. But I like being here. I like experiencing things. It’s hard to imagine not having this. Life.”

  Her eyes were shining as bright green as I had ever seen. A single tear tracked down her cheek before she swiped at it. Then she shook her head.

  “Sorry. I sound silly. I’m just—”

  I was across the couch before she could finish. I took her face in my hands, tilted her head, and brushed her lips with mine. Gently. Slowly. When she gasped, I pulled back and released her. I stood and held out my hand. She stared up at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes still shining.

  “Tell me about your mother,” she said softly.

  Her request took me by surprise. I hadn’t spoken of my mother in nearly twenty years. I took a breath and tried to picture her in my mind.

  “She was very kind, always doing things for other people. I think she spent more time worrying about other people than she did about her own happiness. She had a great sense of humor, an impeccable sense of comedic timing. Not as much toward the end …”

  Cass shook her head.

  “How did she end up married to your father?”

  “One of the enduring mysteries of the universe,” I said as I stood and held out my hand. “Time for bed.”