Looking Real Good

by C. Morgan

  “Kayla?” I breathed.

  Kayla Goodfellow, my sister’s long time best friend and the girl who’d grown up three apartment buildings down from us, grinned at me.

  “Lukas Holt,” she said, her dark brown eyes practically glittering as the coffee stain soaked into her shirt. “You’re all grown up.”

  I looked her over. I couldn’t help myself. Kayla had always been a short, wiry little kid. She’d been the kind of girl who wanted to keep up with the boys. She had the athletic ability to do so, but her legs had always been too short to keep up with me and my friends. She was still short as hell, but today, she wore a pair of black heels that gave her a few extra inches.

  Kayla shuffled into the conference room and began putting her things down on the table. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I had to come directly from a project and I didn’t have time to change. If I had, believe me. I’d have put more effort into what I was wearing.”

  Lisa stood up and hugged her best friend. “I think you look great.”

  I also thought she looked great, but I didn’t say a damn thing. She wore a pair of black skinny jeans with her heels and gray long sleeve. A black blazer was draped over the top of her purse, which she set on the floor as she took a seat across from my sister and me.

  “What was the project you were at?” Lisa asked.

  Kayla ran her fingers through her hair and shook it. A little bit of what I thought might have been dust puffed out of her locks. “My team and I were helping a family clean up and repair their property. If they hadn’t gotten it done, they were facing some serious fines but there was no way they could manage it on their own. I had to hang around and wait for the inspector to show up, and of course, he was late, so by default, so am I. Again, I’m sorry. I know it’s not a very professional impression.”

  Lisa waved off Kayla’s concern. “Don’t sweat it. We’re all practically family here. Right, Lukas?”

  I’d been unable to take my eyes off Kayla since she walked in. I felt suddenly embarrassed by my lack of control. “Let’s get started,” I said gruffly. “I have other appointments today.”

  I tried to pretend not to notice the way Kayla’s cheeks turned bright pink.

  Lisa shot me a dark look, but I ignored her.

  Chapter 4

  Kayla

  Lisa took a sip of water before continuing to explain to me how badly the press and the public had begun to see her brother.

  I listened intently, but it was impossible not to keep shooting looks at her standoffish older brother. He’d always been a serious guy, even when he was just a kid, but there was something about him now that made him intimidating, not just serious. He had an air about him. He was accomplished, successful, and obscenely wealthy. Even though he’d never been easygoing to begin with, he now seemed removed and unapproachable. Distant.

  But still dashingly handsome.

  Lukas Holt had dark blond hair that wasn’t long or short. He wore it slicked back, and the style was somehow careless and slick all at once, like he’d woken up and ran his fingers through it and it fell neatly into place. His eyes were blue and as sharp as his jawline. He was clean shaven and I could see the little scar on his chin that he’d gotten when he was a teenager after a fight in school.

  Lisa and I had walked home with him that afternoon and cleaned him up, hoping we’d do a good job before his mother got home. He hadn’t wanted her to know he’d been fighting. Of course, she saw right through all of us. As soon as she got home from work, she’d spotted the gash, scolded him for not calling her, and kicked me and Lisa out so she could clean him up properly.

  The scar was nothing but a pale shimmer of skin now.

  Lukas wore a perfectly fitted dark gray suit. Underneath was a crisp white shirt and a tie the same color as the suit. The suit accented his broad shoulders and tapered waist, and there was no concealing that he was fit as hell. The tall, lanky teenager I remembered was gone. He’d been replaced by a rippling god of a man and it was making it difficult for me to stay focused on the task at hand.

  “So, are you going to tell us or what?” Lisa asked.

  I blinked at her. Shit. What did she just say? Tell them about what?

  “Um,” I stammered, feeling and probably looking like a total ass. “I uh…”

  Lisa giggled. “I know you’re not used to big fancy conference rooms like this. Just forget about where we are. It’s just me and Lukas. No need to give a full-blown presentation. Just tell him about your non-profit.”

  “Oh, okay.” I could do that in my sleep. I licked my lips, cleared my throat, and sat up straight. “My non-profit is called Good Fellow’s.”

  “Very aptly named,” Lisa said pointedly to Lukas, who didn’t bat a lash at her comment.

  “Good Fellow’s focuses its work at the micro-level individuals that make up our neighborhood. We deal in real impact at the community level all over Seattle. Over the last two years, I’ve set up a network of organizations that communicate to let each other know their needs and resources, creating a spider web of sorts so that everyone has a support system. Not only does it make it easier to find and fill the needs of the people we’re trying to help, but it broadens our donations pool as well. We’ve seen an increase in donations over the last eighteen months since we got the network up and running, and in turn, the number of people we’ve been able to help has increased as well. I have some printouts with me if you want to take a look.” She paused to flip through the mess of paperwork she’d brought with her.

  “I don’t need to see numbers,” Lukas said evenly. “Lisa says if I team up with your non-profit, the public won’t see me as the devil anymore.”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “He’s being dramatic. I never said they saw you as the devil. I just said you’re falling out of favor and people kind of think you’re a selfish asshole. I presented it professionally, of course,” she added with a wink in my direction.

  I laughed nervously. “Well, there is no downside to allying with Good Fellow’s. We’re the team on the ground and we never turn down help. Having someone with your access to resources would be incredibly beneficial to us.”

  Lukas ran a finger along his chin and rubbed absently at the scar there. I tried my best not to stare at his jaw muscles as they flexed while he thought things over. “Where would we start?”

  Lisa took over. “I was thinking we start with a bang. Something to really get the ball rolling and announce to the city that you’re getting involved with charity.”

  “Something like what?” I asked.

  “A charity event,” Lisa said confidently. “Something big enough where the media will show up and Lukas will get a lot of press. With any luck, this will start turning things around in terms of public opinion and favor, and you’ll start to see the financial benefits of your software upgrades.”

  Lukas looked up at me. “Thoughts?”

  “I’m on board,” I said. “But if you really want to do this thing right, you should commit to a campaign that goes beyond a basic fundraiser.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” I added hurriedly. “We can always use the money, and a fundraiser of this proportion is sure to get us a pretty penny in donations, but this is what most wealthy people do. They dip their toe in, raise a bunch of money just by showing up and smiling at the cameras, and then they feel like they’ve done their part. No offense, but that’s not what we really need.”

  Lukas’s eyebrow was still arched. He turned to his sister.

  “Don’t look at me,” Lisa said. “I’m with her. It’s easy to show up for the short haul and smile for the media. But we need to go deeper. We need to make real change and we need to be able to track it. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

  Lukas sighed. “Fine. What do you suggest then, Kayla?”

  My name on his lips almost made me shiver. “We need to go a step further. I can help you learn and understand the plight of the people we’re trying to help. After that, yo
u might be able to see other means of assistance beyond just donations.”

  “I understand their plight already,” he said.

  “Well, sure, to a certain extent—”

  He cut me off. “To a certain extent? Have you forgotten how we grew up? We lived and breathed that plight. I have no interest in reliving that.”

  Lisa frowned at her brother. “Nobody is saying you don’t understand. But times are different, and so are people’s struggles. I think all Kayla is saying is that it might be useful to start at the ground floor.”

  Lukas prickled. “You’re the one who suggested this whole thing, Lisa. Maybe I should just leave you in charge. What do you think?”

  Lisa shot me an apologetic look. I glanced down at my hands and tried to be invisible. This was not the Lukas I remembered. He had a short fuse, and he was defensive. Were there struggles in his past I’d never even known about that made him like this?

  “I think you’re being rude,” Lisa said stiffly.

  I reached for my handbag. “I should go.”

  “No, stay,” Lisa said.

  “I’ll go,” Lukas said, getting smoothly to his feet. He tugged at the sleeves of his suit jacket and looked down at me, his posture stiff and proud. “It was nice seeing you, Kayla.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. “It was nice to see you, too.”

  Hell, I couldn’t tell if I was lying or not. Nice hardly seemed like the right word. Nothing about this felt nice. It felt tense and uncomfortable and I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been so out of my comfort zone.

  Lukas strode to the door and stepped out into the hall. I watched him through the glass wall until he disappeared around the corner, after which I let myself deflate like a popped balloon.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lisa said, reaching across the table toward me. “He’s not always like this. I don’t know what his deal is lately. I should’ve prepared you for—well, whatever this was.”

  “It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “From where I’m sitting, it feels like I do. He can be a total ass sometimes.”

  I shrugged and collected my papers. “Maybe I caught him on a bad day?”

  Lisa shook her head sadly. “I appreciate your optimism, but most days are like this now.”

  I didn’t ask any questions. None of this was my business and I doubted Lukas would appreciate me poking my nose into his affairs, trying to riddle out why he’d turned into such a Scrooge.

  If he wanted to work together, I’d still be open to it. I wasn’t one for turning down much-needed money and assistance, especially from someone as influential and powerful as Lukas Holt. But if he was going to string me along and be a jerk the whole time?

  Maybe I’d just have to find someone else to partner with.

  Lisa got to her feet and smoothed out her high-waisted skirt. “You’ve had a long day. How do you feel about happy hour? There’s a cute place around the block with killer Moscow Mules and chicken Thai bites.”

  I grinned. “You know I can never say no to Thai bites.”

  Chapter 5

  Lukas

  I loosened my tie as I strode to my car in the underground parking lot beneath my high rise office tower. Seeing Kayla had gotten to me more than I could have imagined possible and I couldn’t get far away fast enough. Lisa would be chomping on my heels if she spotted me in the office for blowing her friend off and getting pissy and I was in no mood to entertain that.

  So I hopped in my Lykan Hypersport and revved the engine. I hadn’t corrected my sister on her comment about my six cars worth two hundred and fifty thousand a piece when she took a jab at me. It hardly seemed right to point out that this bad boy had a price tag of three and a quarter million dollars.

  And she was worth every penny.

  I pulled out of the underground parking and sped through the historic district. I ignored the dirty looks from strangers on the street as I slid from fourth into fifth gear. The engine hummed and the steering wheel thrummed in my grasp. The power of the car dared me to open it up but I resisted. I wove through traffic, earned myself more than a handful of middle fingers, and sped out of the congested downtown core in favor of the long winding road along the Sound. A breeze blew in off the ocean that put white caps on the small waves and filled the air with salt. It was cold out but I cracked a window anyway. It rushed around in the car and filled my senses. Slowly, the heat that had tried to swallow me up in the conference room began to ebb away.

  Kayla Goodfellow had sure grown into herself.

  She was a beautiful young woman now. She’d done well for herself, too. She wasn’t sitting tall and proud in an office tower like mine but she was passionate about her work. It showed in her eyes when she spoke about it.

  And you shit all over her and stormed out like a child.

  I grimaced at the thought.

  I hadn’t meant to be rude to Kayla, but the conversation had called up memories I never wished to return to.

  There was a reason I hadn’t opened that box.

  But seeing her brought all those feelings of inferiority and anger right back to the surface, along with other feelings like lust and desire.

  I had no right feeling those things toward my sister’s best friend. Kayla was off limits.

  But damn, did she look good in those jeans.

  I cracked the windows a little more. Cold air hummed inside the car.

  Kayla had always been pretty back in high school, but at the time, I’d been too focused on teaching myself how to code to really notice. Besides, she wasn’t around often since Lisa and I never lived together. Sometimes, we’d all end up outside with the neighborhood kids. We’d play kick the can or other games before being called back inside by our mothers.

  Speaking of mothers, I realized that I’d been subconsciously driving toward my mother’s care home.

  I hated the term “care home.” What I hated more was the fact that my mother had to be in one. She wasn’t an elderly woman, not even close. She’d just celebrated her fifty-fourth birthday two months ago and she’d stayed with me for two nights to get out and have a bit of normalcy. I wasn’t sure which one of us had needed it more, her or me.

  It hadn’t gone how I’d hoped.

  Leading up to that weekend, I’d been optimistic that things would go smoothly. I’d even entertained the idea that if I could handle it and her condition remained steady that I might be able to take her out of the care-home facility and have her stay with me every second weekend or so. In an ideal world, she’d live with me full time, but my work demanded that I was in the office five days a week minimum. Every specialist I’d seen when my mother’s health started to decline told me I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the level of care she needed anyway—even if I stayed home full time.

  She needed the round-the-clock care the care home provided.

  My grip on the wheel tightened as I remembered the day my mother was in her car accident. It had been a cool crisp fall day like this. It had rained that morning and the roads were slick with oil. She’d been on her way to meet a friend for brunch. Cindy, who’d practically been an aunt to me growing up, had called me when my mother was twenty minutes late for their brunch date.

  It was unlike my mother to be late. She always used to tell me that there was nothing more disrespectful than showing up tardy. She used to get worked up when we were running behind leaving the house, whether it was for school, a dentist appointment, or Sunday breakfast a few blocks away with Lisa and her mother.

  So when Cindy told me my mother wasn’t there, I knew in my gut something was wrong.

  I’d called my mother’s cell phone seventeen times before I got a call from the UW Medical Center. They’d told me my mother had been in an accident and was in emergency surgery.

  Nothing had ever made me feel like that before. The nurse on the phone asked if I could come in and suggested I get someone to drive me. She told me where to go once I got to the hospital, but
everything after the words “emergency surgery” was lost on me. My brain went fuzzy, my ears filled with white noise, and a pit the size of my fist started to grow in my stomach.

  There was nobody to drive me.

  I’d gotten in my car and driven myself to the hospital. It was a miracle I didn’t get a speeding ticket on the way.

  My mother was in surgery for four hours, during which I sat outside the operation room, rooted to the same chair the entire time, terrified to leave in case something happened. In case she needed me. Lisa, who hadn’t heard about the accident until it was somehow leaked to the press, showed up during that final hour of surgery and sat with me.

  She’d been my rock that autumn afternoon. She held my hand, promised me that everything would be okay, and stayed there until the surgeon came out and told us the surgery had been a success. No words could explain the relief I felt as the surgeon led Lisa and me to my mother’s recovery room. She didn’t wake for a couple of days, but that was all strategy on the doctor’s part. My mother suffered a massive traumatic brain injury that day. I was warned that she might have memory loss when she woke and the doctors wouldn’t know the extent of the damage until that time.

  I stayed by my mother’s bedside and prayed to a god I wasn’t sure I believed in that she would know my face when she opened her eyes.

  Eighty-six hours after the surgery, I’d woken to my mother’s voice calling my name and asking for a cup of water.

  She’d remembered me.

  Her prognosis hadn’t been good, and recovery wasn’t easy. But my mother was a headstrong woman. She worked hard to rehabilitate herself. I brought her home with me to live in my mansion while she worked on her health. Professionals came by every day: physiotherapists, chiropractors, motor-function specialists, therapists, and her friends. Everyone served a role in her recovery, and I lived and breathed for my mother’s health for twenty-four months until she was independent again.

  Then one morning when I came down to make coffee, I’d startled my mother in the kitchen. She’d screamed bloody murder when she turned around and saw me smiling at her and wishing her good morning. She’d rushed to the other side of the kitchen to put the island between us like she thought I was going to hurt her.