Flawed Perfection

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Flawed Perfection Page 4

by Cassandra L. Giovanni


  I’d never been this bold with him before, but with him looking at me like that I couldn’t help it.

  He looked down at me, his hand slipping from behind his neck to my hip, thumb skimming over the tattoo there. “I won’t be able to keep my friends from tripping over their tongues.”

  I wrapped the tie around my finger, trying to look coy as I met his gaze, his lips only inches from mine. “How’s your tongue doing?”

  “Wow! River, you look smoking!” Bobby’s voice boomed and broke us apart.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, eyes wide as he sauntered in, tripping over his feet.

  He hiccupped before answering, “Had to check on my little brother; make sure he was behaving around my bestie.”

  Bobby slung his arm over my bare shoulders, and I almost collapsed under his weight as I tried to push him away.

  “You’re drunk,” Adam said, his back facing away from us. He turned, and his eyes were cool as he looked at Bobby leaning against me.

  “So?” Bobby retorted.

  Adam was shaking with anger.

  “Sit,” I ordered, pushing Bobby down on the chair. “Wait here while Adam and I change.”

  Bobby’s head lolled on his shoulders. “Not together I hope.”

  I heard Adam’s dressing room door slam.

  “What the hell has gotten into you?” I hissed as I leaned down into Bobby’s face. His breath reeked of vodka, but I held firm in my anger.

  “I see the way he’s starting to look at you,” Bobby mumbled, leaning up against the wall.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t feel so well,” he said, ignoring my question, eyes wide.

  “How did you get here in the first place? Where were you?” I asked, still in his face.

  “I was across the street,” he began to answer, words slurring together; “I saw Adam’s car, and I knew you must be here.”

  “You drove here!” I found myself yelling.

  “So?”

  “So? So? I’m going to kill you Robert Thomas Beckerson! Kill you!” I screamed in his face.

  “River.” Adam came out of the dressing room and reached for me. “Leave it be. He’s going to lose his stomach any moment now.”

  I calmed as his hands found my bare shoulders.

  “I’m so fucking pissed at you, Bobby!” I growled down at him.

  Bobby shrugged. “Adam’s going to chew me a new one too, who gives a shit?”

  I looked over at Adam. His lips twitched as he looked down at his brother.

  “I’ll take jackass home. Can you drive my car back?” Adam asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll pay for our stuff and then head home,” I replied.

  Adam pulled out his debit card. “The bathing suit is on me, and don’t you dare buy that sweater vest for me! Got it?”

  I smirked at him, taking the card. “If you say so.”

  He leaned down, moving my hair out of my ear with his fingertips grazing my neck. My heart stopped before the blood rushed to my head as his breath washed over my neck.

  “The pin is 1022,” he whispered.

  “That’s my birthday,” I replied.

  He winked at me as he pulled his brother up and supported him, throwing the keys from his pocket at me.

  “No sweater vest!”

  “Okay, okay,” I replied as I shooed him with my hand.

  I stood there for a good minute as I ran over the events in my head. The one that stopped me in my tracks was the pin number—why had he chosen my birthday?

  Then I felt the warmth spreading in my limbs as I remembered his thumb gently tracing the tattoo on my hip. Was he about to kiss me when Bobby arrived?

  Bobby sure did have impeccable timing.

  Chapter 6

  I couldn’t sleep. I’d tossed and turned until six AM, and then decided it just wasn’t worth it anymore. My mind kept wandering to Adam and then to Bobby drunk off his ass.

  I’d seen Bobby drunk plenty of times, but the fact he actually got in his car and drove was driving me nuts. He was beginning to drive me nuts with his obsession over Adam and I’s relationship, too. I knew he was right; there was something changing in the way Adam and I interacted, but it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean Adam would act on it, and I knew I didn’t have the guts to.

  I pushed the thoughts out of my mind as I popped in the dance DVD and started punching the air, jumping up and down and swaying my hips. I’d just finished and plopped onto the couch with a bottle of water when a knock came at the door.

  “Come in,” I called over my shoulder.

  “Hey,” Adam said, sticking his head in the door before coming in. “Bobby’s been puking his brains out for a good hour now.”

  “Serves him right,” I muttered.

  Adam sat down beside me. “I’m really sorry about last night—we didn’t get to see that movie.”

  Just then a crack of thunder resounded through the building, and I found myself jumping into Adam’s arms.

  “Always were scared of loud noises, but I don’t remember you being afraid of lightning storms. I remember sitting out on the porch watching them together,” Adam said, his arms tight around my still sweaty waist.

  I shook my head as I pulled away from him. “It was the sudden noise. I’m not scared of lightning— I still love it.”

  “I’m not loving it right now. It looks like our beach volleyball game is going to get rained out.”

  “I bet Bobby hates it too; just what a hangover needs, a thunder storm,” I said, trying to look sympathetic.

  I ended up smirking instead.

  “I bet he is, probably crawling around the apartment calling for me to make it stop,” Adam replied.

  He put his arm over the back of the couch, and his fingertips grazed my bare shoulders.

  “Please don’t make me go back in there,” Adam begged. His brows hung over his eyes as he stuck his thin lower lip out.

  “I need to take a shower, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  He burst into a smile, and I tried to hide the deep breath it made me take.

  “Alright, I’m showering. You know where the remote and the food are, help yourself,” I said as I got up and headed to the bathroom.

  By the time I finished drying my hair I could hear Adam’s voice echoing through the apartment, and the smell of bacon wafted through the air.

  I came out wrapped in a towel and leaned on the kitchen island. Adam stood at the stove, spatula in hand, nodding his head as he sang.

  “I didn’t know you could sing,” I said, but his voice was so low now, I could barely hear it.

  He turned and kept singing to himself. Behind him I saw there wasn’t only bacon, but pancakes simmering in the pan.

  “You should come over here more often,” I commented as I stood, hands on hips.

  Adam’s voice slowly drifted off.

  “Go put some clothes on,” he ordered, pointing the spatula at my bedroom. “You’re becoming more of a tease every day.”

  “I didn’t think it was a tease unless it was something you wanted.” I found myself flirting back.

  Adam bit his lower lip before turning back to the pancakes. His voice cracked as he repeated, “Get some clothes on.”

  I narrowed my eyes at his back before turning to the bedroom to get dressed.

  When I returned he was just flipping the pancakes over.

  “Better?” I asked, hands on hips.

  “Much,” Adam said, looking over his shoulder at me in my jeans and band t-shirt. “Love that band.”

  “Too bad I’ve never seen them,” I said, taking a seat at one of the white plastic bar stools.

  “Poser,” he teased as he poured a glass of coffee, added sugar and creamer and handed it to me.

  I took a sip and closed my eyes as the creamy taste washed over my tongue. “It’s scary you know exactly how I take my coffee.”

  “It just shows I pay more attention than you thin
k,” Adam commented as he took a sip out of his own cup.

  “I can’t for the life of me understand how you know how I take my coffee.” I shook my head at him as I took another deep sip.

  He piled two plates with bacon and pancakes, balancing them as he grabbed the syrup from the fridge and came to sit next to me.

  “You love mangos, but they make your lips itch…your favorite drink is black cherry seltzer water. Your favorite wine is Kangaroo Moscato. If you could eat anything it would be fish and chips—a true New Englander. You hope fireflies are fairies that grant wishes, you’re scared of the dark, and,” Adam nodded down at my pancakes as I stared at him in shock; “You love your pancakes a little gooey in the middle, which is gross by the way.”

  I couldn’t hold his gaze anymore, and I found myself staring at his hand holding his fork mid-air.

  “You’re amazing, you know that?” I finally whispered.

  He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  There was that word, but did friends really act like this? I shook my head quickly to clear the thought.

  “Thank you for making me breakfast. It makes up for the lack of movie.” I chose to ignore the friend comment, and instead dug into my perfect pancakes— gooey in all the right places.

  “We can still do the movies. Today will be the perfect day, because I don’t want to be anywhere near puke-face and it’s raining. What do you think? Or is that spending too much time with me?”

  I took another sip of my coffee as if I had to think about it.

  “I’m up for it, but I’m not sure how much more you can take without getting sick of me,” I joked, but I knew I was self-conscious about it.

  “I spent every hour of every summer at your side growing up. I’ve missed you, River,” Adam answered, his hand finding my knee. “Sometimes being a grown-up sucks.”

  I put my chin on my shoulder and looked up at him through my eyelashes. “I’m quite enjoying it right now.”

  He tried to keep the smile off his lips, but couldn’t help the chuckle escaping him.

  “Me too, but we should probably leave soon before Bobby comes over here to have you babysit him,” Adam said through his last mouthful of bacon.

  “Good idea, he’s such a baby when he doesn’t feel well!” I replied, stuffing my last piece of bacon in my mouth and washing it down with the last of my coffee.

  “Real ladylike,” Adam joked as he picked up the plates and headed to the sink.

  I swallowed and stuck my tongue out at him.

  “I washed your new clothes,” I commented as I grabbed my purse, and he opened the door for me.

  “Really?”

  “I figured you’d wear them smelling like the department store—not the best impression for your first day of work. Plus, you don’t really know how to wash anything that isn’t a t-shirt and jeans.” I smirked over my shoulder as I hopped down the stairs.

  “This is true…you’re spoiling me. Do you really want to have to do my laundry for the rest of your life? Because I might get addicted to it,” Adam said as he held the door open for me.

  I took a deep breath as he smiled at me in the way that sent my skin tingling.

  “I don’t mind. It’s better than having to go shopping with you every week because you’ve destroyed everything washing it wrong.”

  “Good, then you’ve been nominated to do my laundry for the rest of our lives. You know that means you can never live more than a few feet away from me, right?”

  “As long as you make me breakfast every once in a while I can deal with it,” I answered, settling into his racing-style seats.

  Adam paused, his hand on the shift knob before saying, “I’ll make you breakfast for the rest of your life if you want it.”

  His eyes drifted up from the shifter to mine, and time seemed to freeze. My heart stopped beating, and all I could hear was his breathing and mine, in perfect rhythm with each other.

  “I might get fat,” I finally managed to say.

  Instantly I wanted to smack myself. I couldn’t have said something else? Something that would have been, I don’t know, as romantic as this whole thing felt? Instead I said I might get fat?

  Adam burst out laughing, the moment broken by the stupidity of my comment.

  “Not with how much you workout,” he said as he shifted the car into gear and drove out into the rain.

  Chapter 7

  When I graduated college, I’d been lucky. Under some act of God the internship I’d had during college turned permanent. The salary was a bit low for someone with a Bachelor’s Degree, but it paid the bills, and I wasn’t about to sit in my parent’s basement and sulk because I wasn’t making a 100K like I was promised. I wasn’t even making half of that. I stared at the computer screen, puzzled for a moment that I’d ever believed that crock of shit. I sat back—at least I had a job, and one I loved to boot.

  Life could be a lot worse.

  “What you working on in there?” Jesse, my boss, interrupted.

  I found myself looking over my shoulder at him as he entered my office. I had my desk facing the window and my back to the door because of the amount of people who always walked by and looked in. I could shut the door, but to the side of it was a wall of windows, so I could never escape from prying eyes unless I had my back facing the door. This way I also had a great view of the window. The only downside was I never knew when my boss was coming in, like now.

  I looked at the two computer screens; one displaying the company I was working on branding with signs, and the other displaying the photo editing software I was working in.

  “Just working on the ad campaign for Lovely Rags—that big high-end thrift shop we’re working with,” I explained as I pointed to the photographs.

  “Nice, did those come from Joe?” he asked, leaning closer to look at them.

  “Yeah,” I answered, trying to keep my mouth shut.

  The quality we were getting from our photographer had gone downhill substantially. I had bit my tongue because I didn’t feel it was my place, but I knew the core values of the company weren’t being met by this quality anymore. Our marketing firm had edged itself in the marketplace by not using stock photography and by creating custom advertisements that no one else could give clients, along with our quantified measurements of the results of the campaigns and other advice. The product Joe was delivering was lackluster at best, so the advertisements reflected that.

  Jesse shook his head as he came around to the front of my desk and took a seat.

  “I have a proposition for you,” he said as he tucked his chin in his hand.

  “Yes?”

  “Joe’s quality is…lacking lately, but the matter has been taken out of my hands. He was supposed to show for a photo shoot for Sincere—that huge client with the pricey salons—he didn’t show and neither did his models,” Jesse explained, leaning forward with a smile that didn’t match the situation.

  “I need those photographs today to get the advertisements designed for the grand opening in two weeks! I have to get the ads to the printer, the files to the website developers—and the canvas company for the giclée prints!” I threw my hands up and sunk into my chair.

  “Don’t panic.” He paused for effect, and I couldn’t help the widening of my eyes as I waited for him to continue, “I do have a solution.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Jesse put his hands on my desk, and the smile he gave me was full of teeth almost as white as his shirt.

  “I’ve got a credit card with your name on it begging for a camera to be purchased. I want you to be our photographer. Joe was overpriced anyways, and you deserve a raise. If all goes well—your name plate,” he explained, pushing it with his hand; “will change drastically, along with your paycheck.”

  I shook my head. “Huh? What?”

  “You—Lead Brand Expert and Photographer.”

  “Me?”

  Jesse stood and pulled a s
apphire credit card from his suit, placing it on my desk with a wink. “It’s got a two thousand dollar limit, get whatever you need.”

  I stared at the shimmering card for a moment before picking it up and running my hands over the raised numbers and below them, my name. This was too good to be true.

  I picked my phone with shaking hands and dialed the number of someone I knew could help me.

  “Hey, Bobby?”

  Chapter 8

  I stood outside the apartment, my lips in a deep frown as I crossed my arms and leaned back against the wall, wishing my stare could burn a hole in the door across the way.

  Bobby had blown me off. No one was home. I needed his help and he knew it, yet he was nowhere in sight, and I couldn’t get a hold of him.

  Adam came up the stairs, and I couldn’t help but be distracted by the way he looked as he loosened his tie. If I’d had my camera like I was supposed to, I would have snapped a shot. He was the perfect image of an A&F drool-pile-inducing model. My mind froze as his eyes slowly met mine, and a smile stretched across his face.

  “Hey, Riv, why the extremely pissed face?” he asked, stopping in front of me with his hands in his slack pockets.

  I was trying to remember why I was mad. When I did, I took a deep breath and jammed my finger at the air over his shoulder.

  “Your dumbass brother! I told him yesterday I needed his help; my job depended on it, and guess what? He’s nowhere to be found,” I explained, my voice low in its irritation. I held up my phone and waved it. “And apparently he lost his phone, too!”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and gave a heavy nod. “New girlfriend will do that to a guy.”

  “New girlfriend?” I repeated.

  Adam rolled his shoulders. “What was he supposed to help you with anyways?”

  I leaned my head back against the wall, and Adam moved closer to me, his hands reaching for my waist, but then going back into his pockets.

  His eyes left mine and went to his shoes.

  “My boss told me the photographer they hire for our advertisements, along with his models, had bailed on us. The quick fix was a credit card with my name on it and enough money to buy me a camera, and me finding a male model. Bobby was supposed to help me get a camera and be my model.”

 

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