KEEPING WICKED
Kathryn James
Keeping Wicked
Copyright © 2021 Kathryn L. James
Published by Kathryn L. James
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, in any form, or by any means includes but not limited to, electronic, mechanical, downloading, photocopying, or recording without the prior written consent of the author of this book. Except in the case of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Photography by Jacob Wackerhausen
Cover Design by Imagination UnCovered
Editing by Amy Briggs with Briggs Consulting LLC
Proofread by Sweetheart Author Services
Formatted by Abby Formatting & Content Editing & Web Design
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book is for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given to other people. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Dedication
To Mr. James, my biggest cheerleader. I love you.
Chapter 1
“Sold!” The announcers voice echoed inside the dressing room where I waited.
Warnings blared in my mind to run like hell, but instead, I took in a slow steady deep breath and forced myself to stay put.
I was number eight and next to grace the stage.
“The next beauty up for your bid is...”
“Shit, shit, shit!” I rolled glossy scarlet lipstick across my lips and quickly rubbed them together a few times.
As I stared in the mirror, a complete stranger stared back. It was the shocking image of the lost girl I’d long forgotten—myself.
A mixture of dread and excitement filled me, and vibes of exhilaration took me by surprise. It took me a few seconds to remember I was about to step completely out of my comfort zone.
“Carli is going to owe me so much more than a blueberry mojito,” I mumbled.
Best friend or not, I’d lost my ever-loving mind to have agreed to this shit.
Rising from the stool, I ran my hands down my hips along the borrowed black, sequined, shimmery beaded gown that hugged my hourglass curves. It fell to the floor with a slit running high up my thigh. The gorgeous gown fit as though it were tailored for me. Slowly I turned around and gazed at my image in the mirror. The classy bun had been the right choice to show off the backless cut of the gorgeous dress.
It had been four years since I’d worn glamor and glitz and at the time, I’d been a teenager attending prom. In no way did that night compare to the way I looked tonight. This was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever worn. It wasn’t because we couldn’t afford it. I could have had anything I wanted.
Except the one thing I wanted most—my father.
He would’ve given me the moon had I asked, but I’d only ever wanted him. Sure, he’d spoiled me with lavish gifts and made sure I’d been taken care of. Even recently, he tried to make up for all the years of broken promises.
Thankfully, I’d had Anita, who was more than a nanny. She was my world.
Loud music began playing and my heart tripped over its own beat. I slipped my feet inside a pair of strappy, sparkly, black heels. It was about to be my turn to fulfill my end of the agreement with Carli and do what best friends do—be there for one another. She couldn’t help that her crazy cat, Sasha caused her to lose her balance and produce a major break in her upper arm. My heart hurt that she had to be in the ER alone and she was most likely in a lot of pain.
I took a quick selfie and sent it to her, along with a message. She wouldn’t see it tonight, but when she did, I wished I could have been a fly on the wall to see her reaction. I loved that girl and owed her my life.
She and I became fast friends which was something I never did. I didn’t do friends, because every time I let myself get close to someone, Dad up and moved us to another state. She and I met in detention of all places during my senior year of high school. She had been performing inappropriate behaviors with some guy and I’d cut classes.
This time, I didn’t care if Dad gave me the same old moving excuse, “Leah, I have to do this for the boys. It’s where I need to be.” He could leave, but I was staying this time.
Since my birthday fell in the middle of “when the boys needed him”, it never failed, Anita and our gardener, Milton, had been the one to sing happy birthday. We’d have our own little party of three for my birthday. The last time I gave a shit was my sixteenth birthday. He’d promised he would be there. I’d waited, refusing to cut into the three-layer strawberry cake. At eleven-thirty that night I tossed it into the trash.
That was the last night I cried myself to sleep, and the first time I didn’t give a damn about the pity welling in Anita and Milton’s eyes.
Then came Preston, the boy who fucked me up.
He was my first love.
And the first to ever lay an evil hand on me.
I pointed a finger at my image in the mirror, “Not tonight. He doesn’t deserve to be in your thoughts. This is about Carli and the kids.”
When Carli had called, her words were slurred, clearly under the influence of pain medication. “You’ll be auctioned and you’ll go out on a date for charity. Please, Leah. Do this for the kids.”
“No.”
“Please, Leah. If you’d try, you might have a good time. And I know you want to help the kids get free meals, school supplies, new shoes, and backpacks.”
Hook, line, and sinker, she had me. I’d never let kids go hungry or without essential school items.
The dressing room door opened, and an elegant woman dressed to the nines in a gown made of gold sequins waltzed inside. Her radiant smile matched the brilliant glimmer of her dress and she was too bubbly and cheery for my taste.
“You’re up next!” She beamed.
“Oh, joy,” I said with a flat tone.
“Honey don’t be nervous. You look stunning in that dress. Armani?”
Most likely.
“I have no idea. Luckily, I wear the same size as my friend and bummed a dress from her closet.”
“Follow me. You’re the one standing in for Carli, right?”
“Yes.”
We walked down the long hallway and stopped when we reached the steps of the stage. A balding man wearing a black tux extended his arm to escort me. At least two-hundred people filled the dim room, most seated at round dinner tables covered in white linens. Arrangements made of white roses and flickering candles sat in the middle of each table. A few servers were passing out fluted glasses filled with champagne and small plates topped with rich desserts.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present the last beauty of the night.” A silver-haired man with a British accent gestured for me to ascend onto the shiny black platform.
My insides felt at war, and I tried to concentrate on the soft music and ignore the crowd as I let the gallant man escort me across the landing. The high slit reached the top of my thigh showcasing my creamy skin, and the six-inch heels made my petite legs look endless. I felt as though my heart were going to pound through my chest and I swallowed back nausea.
The room hushed as we walked from one end of the stage to the other and then stopped at the edge. The announcer wriggled his eyebrows in appreciation.
“Stop all that shameless flirting, Randy. People are eager to start bidding.” I drew my gaze to the front row where a gorgeous woman held up a fluted glass.
“Jealous, my darling, Willow? You know after forty-five years of marriage, you’re the most beautiful woman in the room,” he said into the mic and winked at her, making the crowd erupt in laughter.
“He’d rather sleep in the bed than on the couch,” her matching British accent called out as she giggled. The crowd began clapping and whistling, clearly enjoying the loving banter.
“Willow said for me to get on with the show, and we all know a happy wife makes a happy life, so let’s get started. My friends, do we have an opening bid of one-thousand for this gorgeous woman?” He gazed around the crowded room.
“One-thousand,” a deep voice called from somewhere deep inside the crowd.
“Dear man, her shoes cost more than that,” Willow called out.
Truth. Carli never wore cheap.
“Twelve-hundred,” another faceless masculine voice called from the left side of the room.
“Two-thousand,” the first countered.
“The highest bid tonight was twenty-five hundred. Are we going to take it all the way to the top one last time for a date with this spectacular beauty? Gentlemen, this is, after all, your last chance until next year to donate to this amazing charity event.”
“Three-thousand!” Bidder number two called out, stepping forward into the soft candle lit area. His eyes gleamed and dimples dotted his cheeks.
He didn’t seem so bad until he ran his eyes up and down my body in a sleazy way making me want to hurl.
Being raised around “the boys”, I knew how the X and Y chromosomes worked. Pure male and horny as hell all the time.
Carli, you’re going to owe me so much more than a couple of blueberry Mojito’s!
The announcer stood next to me, excitement dancing in his voice. “Mr. Everly, you’ve exceeded our top bid tonight. What a nice dinner companion this young lady will make.”
A photographer snapped a picture of me and then turned his lens on the man who beamed over his win.
“Ten-thousand,” a deep baritone voice called out, and I raised my eyebrows in shock.
Whispers filled the entire room as more than two hundred people tried to figure out who countered such a generous offer.
“Fifteen,” Sleazebag-dimples called out.
“Twenty.”
“Twenty-Five”
“Forty thousand.”
What in the ever-loving fuck?
“Who do we have in the back? Step forward, kind sir so we can see Everly’s competition.”
Heads turned, and I followed the direction of the crowd’s gaze. A nice-looking man wearing a black tux and a cocky smile sauntered forward with a cell phone glued to his ear.
“I’ll be damned.” The announcer whispered away from the mic, but I heard him loud and clear before he moved his mouth back in front of the microphone. “Dwayne Thompson. It’s always a pleasure.” He turned his attention toward the left. “The bid stands at forty-thousand and it’s your move Everly.”
The mysterious bidder shoved the phone inside his pocket and gave a confident stare at his opponent while everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath—including myself.
“Fifty grand,” Sleazebag deadpanned him.
“One-hundred thousand. Go ahead Everly, we can go at it all night. I’ve got nothing but time and money to spend.”
“I’m out, but Everly Enterprises would like to donate the bidding amount of fifty-thousand dollars to the charity proceeds.”
“Sold! For one-hundred thousand dollars! Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes the bidding for a record breaking Dinner with a Beauty, founded by my beautiful wife, Willow. What a night this has been! After the silent auction in the adjacent room, our accountants will be tallying up the proceeds and the final numbers will be posted in a few hours.”
The room erupted in clapping, whistles, and muffled voices whispering about the unexpected amount of money spent.
It felt great to be a part of something good. Something worthwhile making a difference in the lives of children. And for the first time in a long time, I felt as though the blood running through my veins hydrated my soul.
Mr. Money Bags stepped to the edge of the stage and flashed a soft amused smile. “The dinner arrangements will be made in the next few days, at your convenience, of course. I assume your contact information has already been given to the committee.”
“We... um...we don’t have to go out on an actual date. After all, it’s all for a good cause.”
“Next week. Carlisle and Vaughn’s. A driver will pick you up.” He flashed a smile and winked before walking away.
Chapter 2
Carli stretched out on her sofa sporting a neon pink cast. I rolled my eyes at her choice of pink pajamas with tiny panda bears printed on the fabric but fixed my attention on her perfect make-up and hair pulled up in a cute messy bun.
“You look much better than yesterday.” I smiled softly.
“You came by the hospital yesterday?” She furrowed her brows.
“Twice. They had you on a buffet of pain medication that had you talking about gum balls and a chipmunk named Andy.”
She and I both let out giggles. “Oh my God, I don’t remember any of that!”
“Why are you all dolled up?”
“Just felt like doing something with myself since I’ve been out of it.” She shrugged her shoulders in a failed attempt and her giddiness was shining through.
“You never wear make-up if you’re chilling out at home.”
“Can’t a girl try and look good after feeling like being run over by a train?”
I caught a whiff of her favorite scented perfume and it only confirmed something so much more was going on.
“Go ahead. Keep your secret.” I withdrew a white box with the signature lilac bow from the sack I had brought. “Thought you might want some carrot cake from Ms. Opal’s.”
“You know that’s my favorite! But first I want to know about the gala. One hundred thousand, Leah. No one has ever bid that high. Ever.”
“My lips are sealed until you tell me why you look like the kid with their hand in the cookie jar.”
“The gala, Leah. Tell me all about it.” She tossed one of the red couch pillows toward me.
“This has a man written all over it. Why are you holding back?” I wriggled my eyebrows up and down.
“Come on, Leah... the auction. I want details,” Carli pouted.
“Is he into pandas?” I pointed to the tiny print on her pajamas before heading to the kitchen to retrieve two plates.
“I hope so.” She bit her lower lip.
“Who is it?” I set two plates on the coffee table each with a slice of the best cake in the city of Dallas.
&n
bsp; “You know the shit you have to sign before having a procedure? Well, it’s enough to scare the living shit out of you... blood clots, respiratory distress, and then the motherload of them all, death. They used a fancy term, reduction of the humerus which means they are going to give you twilight drugs so they can tug on your arm until the bones line up. They couldn’t get my bones to line up correctly and the orthopedic surgeon took me into operating room so they could knock me out.”
“And?”
“I met a crazy-hot doctor with a nice ass and a panty-melting smile.”
“Isn’t there some sort of rules against doctors flirting with their patients?” I laughed because Carli wouldn’t give two shits about rules.
“Good thing he wasn’t my doctor. His waiting room is filled with Legos and motor skill toys enhancing hand-eye coordination. He’s a pediatrician, and seriously good-looking.”
“And he’s dropping by?”
“After he makes rounds. You’ll like him, Leah. He’s… different. I don’t know where this is going, but I’m excited to see.”
“What’s his name? How did you meet him?”
“Zane. He was in the ER to see a kid with suspected appendicitis. The unit secretary directed him to the wrong room which I think was fate. After all that scary as shit paperwork I was about to throw my guts up. It had me nervous as hell and he hung around until I got my shit together. He even offered to call my family who you know is in Bangladesh on a mission trip. Because I was all alone, he came by my room after evaluating his patients. We talked and he made me laugh. He dropped by a few more times and then gave me a ride home after I was discharged.”
“I called but the charge nurse said you had already been discharged. I figured your parents flew in.”
“Pfft, they don’t even know about it.”
“So, you remember him, but you don’t remember me coming by? Shows where I rank.” I winked playfully
“Hey, I couldn’t help they had given me meds. For the longest time he stood at the door while we talked. The next thing I knew he was sitting in the chair next to my bed and we were talking and laughing like we had known each other for years.”
Keeping Wicked (The Mitchell Brothers Book 3) Page 1