“Not me. I hated school. College sounded like torture. Of course, now I’m stuck in a job that’s like torture so I guess I traded one for the other.”
“There has to be something you want to do that wouldn’t be torture. What is it?”
I knew I should interrupt their conversation, swing it in my favor, captivate the Target’s attention, but I kind of wanted to hear the answer.
Frankie’s cheeks turned pink. “I kind of like to bake.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. I should have known it involved sugar.
“Yum, what’s your favorite thing to make?”
“Cupcakes,” she replied. “But it’s just a hobby.”
“Have you ever been to the Iced Princess?” Rosalyn asked.
Frankie’s eyes lit up. “That is my favorite place ever.”
“What’s the Iced Princess?” I asked.
“This ultra-fabulous cupcakery about an hour or so away.”
Frankie nodded. “There’s nowhere else like it.”
The two ladies launched into some discussion about cupcakes and pink and I totally tuned out. I was about to change the subject when someone walked in front of the window by our table.
All the air in my lungs seemed to disappear.
It was the same girl from the other night. From the charity ball.
Long blond hair, willowy figure. She was alone, her hands stuffed into a royal-blue coat. As I watched, she stopped walking, directly in front of our window and pulled a beeping phone out of her pocket. She glanced at the screen and smiled—I knew that smile—and glanced up.
Our eyes connected.
Hers were green.
My body jerked like it had been shocked and my mouth went bone dry.
The woman turned away and started walking again. I craned my neck to watch her until she disappeared from sight.
“Charming, are you okay?” Frankie was looking at me with a funny look on her face.
I cleared my throat, glancing at her hand, which was resting on my forearm. The Target was watching me as well. “I’m fine. I thought I recognized that woman, but then I realized I was wrong.”
“Some people just have those faces,” the Target was saying. “You know the kind that everyone thinks they know.”
Frankie agreed with her and removed her hand from my arm. I kind of wished she’d left it there another moment. It made me feel grounded. That looked just like her.
It wasn’t. And I wasn’t going to do this. Not now. Not here. I finally had my chance to get in with the Target and I wasn’t going to let anything blow it for me.
The waiter came around and took out orders and then came back with drinks all around. After that I tried to keep the conversation about the Target, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to appear interested but also maybe learn something about her that could be useful.
Frankie kept butting her big mouth in to talk about shoes, celebrities, and TV shows.
“Speaking of clothes,” Rosalyn said, turning away from me to look directly at Frankie. “I loved the gown you were wearing at the ball. Where did you get it?”
“Oh, there is this great little vintage shop downtown. Not many people know about it.”
“We should go!” the Target exclaimed.
The two made plans to go shopping that weekend and I couldn’t help but feel like Frankie was trying to move in on my Target.
When Rosalyn got up to use the ladies room, I leaned in close. “Quit being nice,” I growled in her ear.
She made a face. “Not everyone has the disposition of a turd like you do.”
“When she comes back to the table, we’re going to tell her that I am not gay. You’re going to play the worried sister.”
“And if I don’t?” she challenged.
“I’m going to show up at your apartment every day at six a.m. and pound on your door.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Rosalyn slid back into the booth. “Hey, so what did I miss?”
We both looked up and smiled. “Actually, Frankie here had something she wanted to tell you.”
The Target turned to Frankie.
Just then the waiter appeared with our pizzas. Talk about the worst timing ever. He handed out the food and then picked up a pitcher of water to refill our glasses.
As he reached for my glass, someone bumped him from behind and about half the pitcher went pouring into my lap.
I jerked up immediately, brushing the ice and water off my pants. But it didn’t matter. They were soaked.
Frankie sat there and giggled while Rosalyn handed me her napkin, her lips twitching.
“Very funny,” I said, trying to control my temper and not verbally assault the waiter who stood there staring at me open mouthed.
“Oh, dude, I am so sorry. I must have slipped,” he said. Dude? What kind of talk was that for a waiter to use?
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, then excused myself and went to the men’s room where I would, oh, I don’t know, punch something.
As soon as I went into the bathroom, the door burst open behind me. I turned around to see the waiter drag the huge trashcan in front of the door.
What the hell?
“Ah, man you should have seen the look on your face!” he said.
“What?”
“Sorry about your pants,” he said, looking down at the huge stain that made it look like I peed myself. A laugh slipped from between his lips. “Dex would have loved to see that.”
Dex? How did he know about Dex?
“It’s me, man. Storm.”
“Storm?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I really needed to talk to you and I didn’t know how else to get your attention in the middle of the restaurant.”
“You have a body now?” I asked, trying to understand. “And why don’t you have a black ring around yourself?”
“I don’t have a body, so I borrowed this one.”
“You borrowed a body?”
“Yeah. It’s ah… something else I’m not supposed to be doing.”
So he was able to get into other people’s bodies and control them? That was really scary… but also really cool. “If you ever get in my body, I will kill you.”
He snorted. “Being in your body would hurt too much anyway. I have a feeling you take up every last inch of real estate you got inside there.”
“What?”
“It can get kind of crowded, you know? Two souls instead of one. The bigger the soul, the more painful it is.”
“Does it hurt now?”
“Not much. This guy’s not too bright.”
“You are so going to owe me for keeping all this to myself.”
“That’s why I’m here,” he explained. “I know you’re getting ready to tell your Target you aren’t gay. You shouldn’t do that.”
“What? Why?” Telling the Target I was gay was exactly what I needed to do.
“I’ve been watching her like you said. Turns out she just went through a bad breakup. I heard her telling her friend she didn’t want to date anyone.”
Great. Could this job get any worse?
“So if you stay gay, you won’t be a threat, you know? She won’t have to worry about you hitting on her all the time.”
“We could be friends?” I said, trying to work it out in my mind. I was so used to dating the Targets I never really tried to be their friend.
“Exactly. Her very gay, nonthreatening, and unavailable friend.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. I was already unenthusiastic about trying to romance her anyway. At least this way I would only have to pretend to like her as a friend.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked.
He made a face like he was uncomfortable and shifted. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He shifted again. “Oh, and I heard her making plans today for some fundraiser. The person who was helping her put it together bailed. You should offer to help.”
I liked it. “Okay, I will. Thanks, man.”
“Sure thing. Now I
gotta get out of here, drop this body. He’s starting to get annoyed.”
“Where are you going to do that?” I asked, still amazed he could take over someone’s body.
“Probably outside behind the building. If he doesn’t come back to refill your water anytime soon, it’s because he’s still waking up.”
“You mean that puts them to sleep?”
“Yeah, kind of. It wears off fast though.”
I glanced toward the door. I needed to get back out there. “I’ll talk to you later,” I said as he pushed the trashcan away from the door.
We both exited the bathroom, him going in one direction and me in the other. I wasn’t looking forward to sitting around with wet pants the rest of the night, but I couldn’t leave. I had too much to accomplish. My plans had changed. I was no longer going to try and date the Target. Instead, I was going to be the fun, gay friend who offers to help organize fundraisers.
This might actually work out better than I originally hoped.
Frankie and Rosalyn were laughing when I rejoined them at the table. “Ladies, sorry about that.”
“You look like you peed yourself,” Frankie said.
“My sister, the joker,” I said, trying to sound affectionate, and pulled on a strand of her hair. She looked at me like I lost my mind.
Maybe I had.
“So what did you want to tell me before?” the Target said.
For once I was thankful Frankie didn’t do what I told her to do.
I put my hand under the table on her thigh and squeezed. “Actually, I should be the one to tell you. After all, I was the one embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed about what?”
“My sister told me that she confided my secret to you.”
“Your secret?” she asked. A second ticked by and realization dawned in her eyes. “So it’s true. You’re gay?”
I squeezed Frankie’s thigh again just to be sure she got the message. I nodded. “Yes, it’s true. I don’t normally go around telling everyone, though. I know it can make some people uncomfortable.”
“Oh.” Understanding came into her eyes and she reached her hand across the table for the one that was lying next to my plate. “I assure you it doesn’t make me uncomfortable in the least. And for anyone that it does… who needs them anyway?”
I smiled and released Frankie’s thigh. I could feel her questioning gaze on my face, but I ignored her and focused on the Target. “I’m relieved to hear you say that. A guy can never have too many friends.”
She smiled. “Absolutely.”
Score.
After a few minutes of small talk, I mentioned I was looking for a few charities and fundraising organizations to get involved with to help me and my business get established in the community since I was fairly new in town.
What a surprise that the Target needed help with one she was planning.
Score again.
I was feeling quite pleased with myself when dinner came to an end. I was also feeling confident that this job might not be as hard as I originally thought.
On the way out of the restaurant, Frankie leaned in close and hissed, “What are you up to?”
I just smiled and continued on my merry way.
It was none of her damn business.
Chapter Fourteen
“Question – an expression of inquiry that invites or calls for a reply.”
Frankie
I went shopping with Rosalyn. She called me about a week after our pizza dinner and asked me to take her to that vintage store I told her about. I almost said no, but I hadn’t seen Charming either since that night; he was being quiet. Too quiet. I wanted to know what he was up to.
So I said yes and we went shopping. It was actually really fun. Until she started talking about Charming. Apparently, the reason he’d been leaving me alone was because he was devoting all his time to annoying her. Only she didn’t think he was annoying. She liked him. At one point she actually sighed and wished he wasn’t gay.
I actually threw up in my mouth when she said that.
But then she went on about how sweet and fun he was. About how he took her to the local ice arena to go ice-skating and then they went to a fondue restaurant for chocolate.
I had to act all happy and make noises about how fabulous my brother was. I could have spoken up and admitted to all my lies right then and made him look bad. But I would have made myself look bad too. I didn’t want to look bad to her; I liked her.
Ahhh, the tangled web I weaved.
But the worst part? The fact that he ate sugar. That’s right, he who said food was merely fuel. It made me so angry my stomach began to churn. But when I went into the fitting room and looked in the mirror, I saw it.
It was right there in my eyes.
I wasn’t angry about the stupid chocolate.
I was jealous.
And now here I was two hours after our shopping trip and I was still driving around trying to figure out why I had that look in my eye. How could I possibly be jealous about Rosalyn spending time with someone who literally wanted to kill her?
My mind was swirling; it felt like I was on the Internet with about twenty different tabs open and running all at once. And about seventeen of those tabs all had something to do with a positively hideous man with really striking green eyes.
Why, oh why were all the best-looking guys the ones who were the worst kind of trouble?
Frankie, I told myself, what you need to do is forget about him and go back to the original plan. Meet a doctor. A rich one who is average looking. Get married. Be spoiled.
Yep, that was my plan. Had been my plan since before I graduated high school and decided I would rather eat glass than go to college. My parents didn’t like that idea and I quickly became the world’s worst daughter. So I moved across the state to put my plan into action. Funny, I hadn’t thought about my plan much lately. And now that I was, those plans seemed… unappealing.
“Oh no,” I scolded myself and turned the Jeep in the opposite direction from home. “Don’t even go there.” This kind of thoughts called for a special kind of sugar. And I needed it before my brain joined sides with my body. The next thing I knew, I would be giggling like a vapid airhead and hanging on Charming’s every word.
Not. Going. To. Happen.
I turned the radio up too loud, hoping to drown out my thoughts, and drove to the Iced Princess. When I got there, the girl inside was just locking the doors and flipping over the closed sign. Figures I would be too late. At least I could still raid the vending machine.
I turned off the engine and sat there in the quiet, leaning my head back against the seat. I stared out through the windshield at the girl behind the counter. She was wiping everything down and taking all the days’ leftover cupcakes out of the display case in the front. I could tell she had the music turned up by the way she moved to the beat.
She looked happy. Like she didn’t have a care in the world and wasn’t in a very big hurry to get home. By the time my shift was over at the DMV, I wanted to run screaming from the building every day. It must be nice to be able to do something you love every day.
I sighed and leaned down to pull my wallet out of my bag, getting ready to raid the cupcake machine. When I sat back up and turned toward the window, there was someone standing there, watching me.
I screamed and my wallet flew out of my hands and onto the floor by my feet.
“Geeze!” I cried, putting my hands to my racing heart. “You about scared me to death!”
He smirked.
I rolled my eyes and popped open the door, hitting him with it. “What are you even doing here?” I said, ignoring his grunt of pain. “Are you stalking me now?”
“I’m not a stalker.”
“Right. Because that’s so much more offensive than your actual line of work.” I had to practically climb under my front seat to get my wallet. I swear it was trying to hide from him.
When I finally found it and pulled myself out, I nearly sl
ammed into him. In my attempt not to touch him, I stumbled backward and he reached out and caught my arm, steadying me.
I glanced up, my eyes connecting with his. They were slightly heavy lidded. “Oh my gosh!” I said, pulling my arm free. “You were totally checking out my ass.”
He smirked.
I suddenly felt like I was standing too close to a flame. Heat seared my skin. I made a rude noise and left him standing there while I headed across the parking lot toward the cupcake machine. Clearly my body was still malfunctioning where he was concerned. I would have thought the time I spent away from him would have helped. Judging from the way I felt right now, it hadn’t helped at all.
Unfortunately, he followed.
“What is that thing?” he asked when I stuck my card in the slot and pushed a button.
“It has cupcakes inside.”
“Why not just go into the bakery?”
“They’re closed,” I said. “I never make it here before they close,” I muttered.
The next thing I knew he was knocking on the glass door and the girl inside pulled it open. “I’m sorry, we’re already closed,” she said.
He gave her that megawatt smiled of his and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I see that. I know you’re probably busy cleaning up, but do you think we could come in just for a few minutes? I’ll pay double for whatever you have left over from the day and take it all off your hands.”
“That’s like fifty cupcakes,” the girl said.
He smiled again. “My sister here”—he motioned to me and I wanted to smack him—“had a really rough day.” He leaned in close to her and whispered, “Man troubles. I think fifty cupcakes should make her feel better.”
The girl’s eyes slid to me. “That’s your sister?” Then she looked back at him, eyeing his designer coat and good looks all over again. “You’re so sweet to do that for her.” And then she was holding open the door and we were being invited inside.
Really.
He just charmed his way inside my favorite cupcake shop.
Of course I went inside. I was getting free cupcakes out of this.
Before I knew it, we were sitting at the table by the window with two coffees and a huge pink box filled with cupcakes in front of us.
Dangerous Lovers Page 88