The Holly Hearth Romantic Comedy Collection

by K B Cinder

  “Shall we?” he asked, extending an arm that I ignored. “A driver is waiting outside.”

  I nodded, taking another nervous glance around. “I’ll get my own ride back, though. As I said — I have plans later.”

  Hopefully, that lie would be my saving grace. My only plans involved running over sales reports and answering emails.

  “Yes, but now you have plans with me,” he teased with a waggle of his brows.

  The ride across town was awkward, as expected, the two of us sitting on opposite ends of a Rolls-Royce Phantom. I kept the center console down and my purse on top for good measure, maintaining precious space between us as we traveled through stop-and-go traffic.

  I ignored his disgusting commentary, from complimenting my legs to wondering aloud how exactly Sage and I had sex with our size differences.

  Not that it was any of his business, but at one time, we did manage it. Me being five-foot and him towering above made it tricky, though it didn’t really require a Ph. D. in sex to figure it out.

  The Akagi brothers’ new restaurant was worth the uncomfortable drive, however, the sleek, contemporary building one of the sexiest I’d ever visited.

  Upon entering, we were escorted to a private dining area, traveling down a dark hall that only celebrities and the super rich were likely to ever see. I forced Trey to lead the way, refusing his arm yet again, the thought of touching him revolting.

  So far, the cold-shoulder approach seemed to be working, and he had yet to hint about making my life miserable again. Hopefully, it was the start of him turning over a new leaf.

  We turned the corner to pass a handful of leather-wrapped booths, a few occupied by stars I recognized from the tabloids lining grocery checkouts. To be honest, I wasn’t that impressed, their celebrity polish rubbed away to reveal tarnished figures who left cocaine in plain sight, not even trying to hide the white lines as we walked by.

  As we entered the rear room, we came to rest at a massive stone table, each end occupied by an Akagi brother, both men impeccably dressed in tuxedos. The sides were flanked with more famous faces: a troubled child star, a runway model, a singer with a notorious klepto side. It was a mix of the red carpet and Hollywood’s underbelly with bowls of white powder doubling as centerpieces.

  “Nice of you to join us!” Eiji cracked, the eldest brother smiling wide at the two of us as he palmed a tumbler of amber liquid.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Trey breathed, happily flopping in a seat a server pulled out for me. “She can’t keep her hands off of me.”

  The table rolled with haughty laughs, and I knew my face had to be blazing red. “Keep telling yourself that, Trey,” I muttered, the jab stirring up more hoots of appreciation.

  I slipped into an open chair beside Eiji and a blonde I vaguely recognized from a primetime singing competition, though I almost screamed when she turned to greet me, her pupils the size of dinner plates in her ice blue eyes.

  “Howdy!”

  My heart physically ached for the feeble starlet, her once rosy cheeks now sunken and hollow. It was as if Tinsel Town had sucked the life right out of her.

  “Hi.” I hung my bag over the back of my chair and balled my fists in my lap to keep them from shaking.

  “Oh, you are Miss Karine!” Aito exclaimed, the younger Akagi brother studying me over a spoon that held a dab of white — a spoon he promptly snorted from as if it were nothing.

  Holy shit.

  These people didn’t know me, and they were blatantly doing coke. Not only that, they were doing it in public.

  I skimmed the table, my heart hammering in my chest once I saw that everyone had crazy eyes, each person’s pupils bigger than the last’s. It definitely wasn’t the business meeting I’d had in mind.

  “Sexy little thing, huh?” Trey laughed, dipping a pinky in the silver bowl before him and taking a quick sniff. “Told you she was special.”

  I couldn’t respond, paralyzed with a mixture of fear and shock. All I could think about was the room flooding with cops, like an episode of Law & Order on steroids, and my business going up in smoke. Everything I worked so hard for could be gone in a flash.

  “So, you’re looking for $100k?” Eiji asked, adjusting one of his cufflinks with a bored expression. “That’s it?”

  I blinked, glancing around to see if he was talking to someone else before turning back to him. “Excuse me? Me?”

  We hadn’t talked about money at the cocktail event. I’d showed them photos, discussed future plans, and that was that. I had no idea where he’d gotten that figure from.

  “For the new line?” he pushed, looking at me like I was the dumbest woman on Earth.

  I’d earned that title, truthfully. Sage warned me not to accept a drink from Trey, and I willingly got in a car with the dude instead. I deserved every shocker and nose candy surprise thrown my way. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, right?

  “Oh, uh…” I stammered, looking to Trey, who was doing another bump of the white stuff. “I’m sorry; did you talk to Trey about a specific project?”

  Ideal setting or not, I needed to put my game face on. Everything in that room was temporary, but the funding could be a long-term deal. One that got me far away from begging for coin from seedy investors like them.

  “Oh, Trey told me all about you and Kinx, sweets,” Eiji laughed, his fingers toying with his sleeve. “He said you’ll do anything for funding.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, not liking the do anything line one bit, but Trey cut me off, his eyes fixed on me. “She’s a hell of a woman, Eij. Real eager to please, too. When she’s not being feisty, that is.”

  I cast my eyes to the younger brother, Aito, finding the same blazing eyes, the three men honed in on me like drones ready to fire.

  Oh, shit.

  My stomach was in knots as it dawned on me that I’d willing walked into the pits of Hell. It was far too easy for Trey, really. He exploited my weakness, and I took the bait.

  “I’m not sure what Trey told you, but I’m looking for a serious investor who’s interested in my product — not me personally. I’m happily engaged.”

  “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Trey mused, reaching a hand toward me across the table. “Besides, don’t you care about your business? With the three of us behind you, Kinx will be unstoppable.”

  He was out of his fucking mind. Like, off his rocker running down the road buck-naked, out of his mind.

  I leaned back in my chair, studying the table of white-nosed freaks, their eyes bugged out of their skulls like the pug I had as a kid. And here I thought my parents were just fucking with me when they showed me drug PSAs as a teenager.

  “So, this is a thing at the top? I thought the whole sex-for-money scenario was for back-alley bargain jobs — not real businesses.”

  “Please. You work in the sex industry, baby.” Trey rolled his eyes, not bothering to continue his little act any further. He didn’t have to. I fell for it with eyes wide open. “I told you: supply and demand. You need a supply of cash. We, as investors, have a demand.”

  I scooted my seat back, rising to my feet, those around the table looking on in shock.

  “And I told you,” I began, grabbing my purse to swing it over my shoulder. “No,” I snarled, pointing at Aito. Then to Eiji, “No.” And finally, Trey. “Fuck no.”

  8

  I didn’t speak Japanese, but I was pretty sure that Eiji and Aito called me roughly ninety-percent of its cuss words as I stormed out.

  I fled the filthy money den before any of their hooks caught, relying on principles and anger as fuel. I stormed past the booths, a C-lister or two looking on in confusion, likely not expecting dinner and a show.

  I didn’t bother to turn my head and confirm, but Trey was following me, his heeled dress shoes echoing mine. For his sake, I prayed he wouldn’t touch me.

  Obviously, his guardian angel didn’t relay that message, because the moment we stepped outside, his fingers gripped my wr
ist painfully and his nails bit into the flesh.

  “What is wrong with you?” he demanded, yanking me to face him. “That was your shot, and you blew it!”

  “You tried to sell me like cattle!” I screeched, tugging to free myself as he clawed at me like a wildcat.

  He all but bared his teeth at me in a rage. “Hey, hey! I didn’t try to sell anything! You want money! Do you really think that doesn’t come at a price?”

  “Of course it comes at a price, you idiot! But that price is a cut of profits — not sex!”

  I struggled against his hold, suddenly frenzied as his grip remained firm. I was barely one-hundred pounds and a blip in comparison.

  That’s why he lured me offsite. Sage couldn’t come to my rescue. The thought washed over me like an ice bucket of terror.

  He pulled me close with a flick of the wrist, the slight action sending me toppling toward him. “Listen — you’re going to march your pretty little ass back in there and apologize! Not everyone gets to go to dinner with the Akagi brothers, you dumb bitch!”

  The bite of his nails was brutal, and I could already see the red welts forming on my skin as I looked down rather than face the snarling monster head on.

  I twisted my arm to no avail, trapped like a rat. “Let go of me!”

  He gripped me tighter with a laugh, his lemon cologne as sour as its wearer. “Do as I say or you can kiss Kinx goodbye. At this rate, you better go in there on your knees and suck their souls out.”

  “Eat shit!” I ground out.

  The only thing I was kissing goodbye was being treated like a piece of meat. He needed to be exposed. I wouldn’t let another person fall victim to him.

  Wrong answer.

  He shoved me sideways against a pillar, the concrete striking my cheek brutally. His hand remained locked around my wrist, twisting my arm against my back as he shoved me forward. “What was that, bitch?”

  Tears stung, but I wouldn’t let them fall. I retreated to my happy place as he loomed over me, people looking on and not doing squat to save me. I was helpless, and the only defense I had was remaining strong. I wouldn’t let him break me.

  I thought of Kinx.

  Of how amazing the day had been.

  Of Spike.

  Spike.

  As soon as he crossed my mind, I slipped my free hand into my bag, Trey too focused on pushing me harder against the pillar to notice. My fingers fumbled awkwardly, bypassing my phone and compact for my saving grace. I gripped it with everything I had, ensuring my one shot to freedom would count.

  Then, with every shred of strength I had combined with sheer, blood-curdling rage — I swung.

  Twelve inches of synthetic polymer penis met Trey’s jaw in a vicious uppercut, the suddenness not giving him a chance to react. The distinct slap of rubber ricocheted through the covered patio, still echoing as Trey fell to the sidewalk in a heap, out cold from the single blow.

  Holy hell.

  I fell with him, his grip still locked on my wrist. But with him unconscious, all I had to do was bend the fingers away to freedom.

  Still down, I looked between the fallen man and my wrist, the marks from his nails angry and bloodied. They stung like something fierce but didn’t hold a candle to the throbbing in my face, the pillar doing a number on me.

  All I could smell was metal, the heavy citrus scent of Trey gone in an instant. Something more than my wrist was bleeding, but I wasn’t sure what.

  As my eyes cast upward again, a man walked toward me with his hand outstretched, the only bystander not aiming a smartphone my way. His was pressed to his ear, and I swore he was saying something about an ambulance. I couldn’t make out the words, my entire body humming.

  Was it shock? Adrenaline?

  Was it normal to feel like this after a fight? I hadn’t had many scraps in my day, other than chasing my little sisters away from my makeup once in a while.

  Whatever it was, I didn’t like it at all.

  I glanced back at Trey, finding him motionless.

  Fuck.

  Did I kill him?

  The next hour was a blur of flashing lights and faces, cops and medics descending on the restaurant.

  I didn’t stick around to see if Trey suffered death by dildo, a pair of medics whisking me away for treatment. A police officer rode in the back of the ambulance with me, his sun-weathered hand holding mine as a paramedic rinsed the cuts on my wrist, the cleanup burning more than the initial injury.

  Somehow, I doubted just the chemicals they used would be enough. I’d need a bleach bath to feel better after being that close to Trey.

  The cop reminded me of Papa, and that kicked off the first round of tears. He would be so disappointed when he heard that I put myself in harm’s way. I had been foolish, throwing myself into a viper’s den. It was a wonder I hadn’t suffered a worse fate.

  The second round came when a fresh group of police officers strolled into my emergency room cubby with grim faces.

  I did kill him.

  He caused three stitches beneath my left eye and a few abrasions. I took his life in return.

  I lost it, any walls of strength I’d built about the situation crumbling. It was worse than losing Kinx or my reputation. It was murder. Well, an accident. Was accidental murder a thing?

  “I didn’t mean to do it!” I cried, my eyes skating between faces as they came toward me, likely readying to cuff me to the bed or throw me in the back of a squad car. I hid my hands under the scratchy blanket as they approached, cherishing the last seconds of freedom and comfort.

  I wouldn’t do well in prison. I was pathetically small and made sex toys for a living. I would be Big Beverly’s dream girl. The whole cellblock would make me whittle dildos out of soap for eternity. I’d end up in isolation for the contraband and never get out on parole.

  “We came for a statement,” a shorter cop said, his face softer than the others’. His name tag said Dorito, and I knew this chip of a man would hear me out. Doritos were my go-to comfort food, after all.

  “It was an accident,” I sniffled, brushing away tears. “I just wanted him to let me go. He was hurting me.”

  “We know,” Dorito acknowledged, nodding as he pressed a pen to the clipboard in his hands. “He won’t hurt you anymore, ma’am.”

  My heart ached at the finality of his words. I didn’t want to kill the guy. I only wanted to leave.

  “He wouldn’t let me go,” I squeaked, accepting a tissue another officer handed me. “He tricked me. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I should have stayed at the hotel.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Dorito assured, resting a comforting hand on mine. “We’ve seen the video.”

  “The video?” I echoed, my heart hammering in my chest.

  Jesus Christ, they caught it on tape? I’d be all over those crazy caught-on-camera shows until the end of time.

  People would make memes out of me. I’d suffer the same fate as Overly Attached Girlfriend or Scumbag Steve. People wouldn’t care that I killed a man. All that mattered was that I happened to do it with a 12-inch dick.

  But that also meant there was proof of my innocence. Hallelujah.

  “Bystanders caught the whole thing on tape. Mr. Well-Hung is being checked out now, but he’ll be booked for assault as soon as he’s cleared.”

  I snapped my head up, relief flooding through me. “You mean he’s not dead?”

  Dorito laughed, a smile cutting through the tough-guy exterior. “Nope. Alive and kicking. He’s got a hell of a bruise forming, though.”

  “I bet…” I trailed, flexing my right hand as I did. I dared to smile at the news, satisfied with my victory now that I knew Trey wasn’t on his way to a pine box six feet underground. “I hit him with everything I had.”

  “It shows. His face has an interesting… mark.” Dorito kept a straight face, but the rest of the officers erupted into laughter.

  “Oh, God…” I let my face fall into my hands, a new round of worry washing over m
e. There was no way news of me knocking Trey fuckin’ Well-Hung out with a dildo would go unnoticed. Not with videos and his inevitable epic mugshot floating around.

  “It’s trending,” Dorito said with a smirk. “I believe the tag is #dickslap. I can’t wait to see what internet challenges spawn out of it.”

  We recapped the night in painstaking detail while I slowly died inside, starting with the seemingly friendly invitation and ending with Trey facedown on the ground.

  I spilled the beans about everything. The coke. The Akagi brothers. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to get lumped in that mess if they did a raid.

  All I wanted was an investor. I’d received anything but that in the end. Embarrassment. Notoriety. A likely scar. If anything, I’d ended up destroying my career.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day to me,” I muttered through fresh tears, knowing my time at the convention was over as Dorito tucked his clipboard under his arm after the last question.

  I couldn’t show my face again after taking down Trey. He was a big-time draw. His fans would want blood. I didn’t want to give more than I’d already spilled.

  Yet again, a Vegas trip was a bust. Kinx was right where it started, if not worse off. I was the proud owner of a tainted brand and had no plan-B to work with.

  “Do you have someone we can call to pick you up?” Dorito asked, his face drawn in concern.

  I shook my head. “I’m here for a convention. The friends I came with are at a show tonight.”

  I wouldn’t interrupt the couple’s night at Cirque du Soleil with my nonsense. Especially not on the eve of their engagement.

  I got myself into the mess. I had to get myself out.

  “I’ll take an Uber back to the hotel.”

  Once there, I’d lock myself in my room with a bottle of wine until it was time to tempt fate in a deathcopter.

  Ah, the things I did for my best friend.

  Dorito didn’t budge, his arms crossing like a displeased father. “You don’t have anyone you can call? It’s in your best interest to have an escort.”