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Authors: Shannon Dermott

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Assets (10 page)

BOOK: Assets
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“I can’t help it. I’m sexually attracted to you.”

This was true. I certainly was to him. “Is that all we have, sex?” I reiterated, not sure I was ready for the answer.

“No, I’ve had great sex before. But with you it’s different. I don’t know how to explain it,” he said thoughtfully, sounding deadly serious. It was the same for me. And what I wanted was to be curled in his lap and explore this topic. “That’s why I want to take you out. Say you’ll go out with me tomorrow.”

“Yes,” I said. Because if we could find something outside of just the great sex, I was sure he could eclipse the only person I ever loved before, Turner.

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

I’d just slipped my phone in my clutch and stepped back into the throng of people when Lizzy tugged my arm. “Hey, you ready to blow this joint?”

Nodding, I said, “Yep.”

“Okay, give me a minute to close out the show.”

Watching her stride right into the middle of the guests in the main gallery area, she snagged a glass of wine that waiters dressed in traditional black and white uniforms carried on trays. Spotting a waiter near me, I scooped up a glass myself. Lizzy wasn’t shy. She had no problems speaking in large crowds and showed her poise by thanking the guests for coming and for their patronage. Of course she didn’t say it like that. But after the toast, I took a long drink of the wine feeling like my life was changing. I had what I assumed was a boyfriend.

After the toast we escaped into Lizzy’s cramped office. She wasn’t the type of person who needed a big office to validate who she was. So there we were, the two of us changing in her tiny space, which was big enough for a desk and two chairs, one for her and one for a guest.  It felt like old times back in college with us giggling at the prospect of going out. We weren’t going to a club.  We were actually headed to Lizzy’s favorite bar and hangout. Although located not too far from her place, it wasn’t a pretentious yuppie bar. It was a little hole in the wall that had stood the test of time. People who frequented the place weren’t the residents of the area but more of those that worked in the area.

Not wanting to stand out amongst that crowd, we’d brought a change of clothes with us. Already dressed, Lizzy was a force to be reckoned with. She wore tight jeans with boots over top that came to her knees. To complete the look, she wore a scoop neck ‘look at my cleavage’ top. She left her blonde hair in the cascading waves she’d worn for the showing.

Me, I wore jeans, ankle boots and a turtle neck sweater in emerald green that made me think of Kalen. Even before he warned me, I hadn’t planned on going out that night to meet anyone. It was okay. Again, this was Lizzy’s night and she would shine.

When we walked into the bar, we were assaulted by all the smells and sounds right away. The bar lay ahead on the right, running the length of the wall. To the left was a pool table area. North of that was the tiny dance floor and a smattering of tables and chairs outlining the place. It was a Friday night. The place wasn’t that crowded. Most had probably gone to real clubs or more likely headed out of NYC towards home. However, it wasn’t empty either.

Since we’d arrived, I sat at the bar and sipped on my sole drink. Lizzy, however, was having a great time. She’d danced non-stop since we entered. Who could blame the guys who’d been caught by her infectious beauty and personality? Getting a break, she joined me. I eyed the door, longing for home, but wouldn’t tell her to stop. We hadn’t hung out in a while. I should have been more excited to be out on a girls’ night. But it was getting late and my bed was calling my name.

Grinning at me, Lizzy was facing the other end of the bar when a man who checked off every box on her fantasy man list walked in. My eyes must have widened, because she turned her head just when he took off his worn leather jacket. Hanging it on the coat rack up front, we got a solid view of the black tee he wore. More than that, he revealed muscled arms that had more art than Lizzy’s gallery. Lizzy turned back to me to mouth,
Holy Shit
, right before he looked our way. Coming around the bar to stand next to my best friend, he hailed the bartender. I was able to glance at the black jeans and boots he wore.

Smitten at first sight, Lizzy gave me a look that asked for my opinion. I nodded imperceptibly just before the regular bartender came over and Lizzy’s fantasy spoke.

“Beer,” was all he said. His voice was gruff and deep. I thought Lizzy would melt right there on the barstool. Smooth, Lizzy turned to him. He gave a quick look and said, “Ladies,” before taking his beer and heading over to the bar area.

The bartender laughed. He, too, was Lizzy’s type. But his longtime girlfriend, who was just as heavily tattooed as he was, worked the other half of the bar. Standing nearly as tall as her man and taller than Lizzy, she looked like she could kick both of our asses at the same time. So we didn’t flirt with him. “I see you girls like him.”

“You know his name?” Lizzy asked with no shame.

“Nope. I’ve heard some of the guys say Striker, but I’m not sure if they were just referring to his pool skills.” Before she could ask anything else, he was called over to fill more orders.

When I saw Lizzy toss her hair over her shoulder with determination in her face, I knew this guy had no chance at all. It didn’t take long for a different guy to come over and ask her to dance. She of course accepted and used that as a way to garner attention her way. Glances between her and him told me that he had, in fact, noticed her. But he made no move to go ask her to dance. Instead, he seemed serious about his pool game. Once I saw money exchanging hands, I knew that he was all business.

Lizzy must have noticed too. Because a few games later, when no one took him on, she stopped dancing and sashayed over. With the music and other noises, I wasn’t able to hear what they said. But it was easy to imagine since she took a cue stick from the available ones on the wall.

Trying not to all-out stare, I watched in horror when his head did a quick shake no and he strode off towards the door. Slipping on his jacket, he headed out of the bar, leaving my best friend stunned. The narrowing of her eyes indicted how pissed she was. Lizzy wasn’t used to rejection.

Once she caught my gaze, she straightened her features and headed over. “You ready to blow?”

Hell, I’d been ready to leave long ago. And because she didn’t bring him up, I didn’t either. No one liked rejection and I wasn’t the type to razz her about it. “Yeah,” I said.

After paying the tab, we headed out. And there he was on a tricked out Harley, smoking a cigarette. Lizzy, unperturbed, strode to the street to hail a cab, ignoring the Striker guy and the one he was speaking to. The guy standing next to the bike turned as we approached the curb several feet away.

“Hey, lovely lady,” the guy said, staring at Lizzy.

“Don’t bother with the princess,” Striker said.

“Why not?” the guy said. “I’d bow at the knee to get some of that.”

Lizzy gave the guy a coy smile. Striker revved his engine to life, and said in words that were heard over the noise. “A girl like her only wants to brag to her friends about slumming.” And he peeled off.

“Bastard,” Lizzy called after him, losing her cool.

“Hey, I don’t mind if you slum with me,” the guy said.

Rolling her eyes, she raised her hand, hailing us a cab to go home. I stood speechless. Unable to comprehend what had just happened, I was also at a loss about what I should say or not say to my best friend. What happened was so unprecedented. I opted not to say anything but knew I would be a sounding board if she needed me. Meantime, this whole episode had me longing for the comfort of Kalen’s arm.

 

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

 

The cab ride home was quiet. It was late, well past midnight, and Lizzy didn’t want to talk. She headed straight for our room despite my words of encouragement:
He’s an asshole. You deserve better.

And me, I went to sleep alone. Funny enough, the cold sheets kept me awake as I turned, hoping to find Kalen and instead finding empty space. When had he become such a fixture in my life? My fitful sleep was still filled with dreams of him—things like me standing on the green plains of the Highlands as my Scotsman in a kilt rode off into battle.  That darn romance novel I’d been reading had to be fueling my dreams. This only left me wanting more.

Morning wasn’t much better. I was alone because Lizzy had left for a date with Hans. He was taking her to a photo shoot and then they were headed off somewhere for a picnic. She told me not to expect her this evening, winking on her way out.

Because I had nothing better to do, I continued to work on my own time on the cash problems from work. I got through another five accounts, logging the miscellaneous wires in my spreadsheet while I did my laundry. I also caught up on e-mail, wrote a letter to my mother and planned what I’d be wearing for my date with Kalen. All in all, it was a productive Saturday, but it felt kind of sad. At twenty-three, I felt like I should be out doing more.

By seven, my stomach was all aflutter. Showered, I put on makeup, which for me probably took longer than it did for most. I didn’t wear it every day, but something about the mystery of that night spelled doing it up, including the dress I borrowed from Lizzy.

Cream chiffon with a draped front and a seamed waist, with a boat neckline, cut extremely short for Lizzy, it worked perfectly for me. The long bell sleeves wouldn’t keep me warm, but it would give the appearance that I was conscious of the season. But that wasn’t the draw of the dress. It was the silt in the back from to the neck to the waist that made it sexy but not slutty. This I paired with black boots that came almost to the knee with a stiletto heel and a simple onyx pendant necklace that nearly hit my belly button. Borrowed diamond stud earrings, and I was nearly ready. It was cold out, so I put on my long black wool coat when the doorman called up to let me know my ride had arrived.

Stopping before I passed the glass doorway at the entrance of my building, I was stunned to see what lay ahead of me. Kalen was a vision in dark pants, tieless in a crisp white shirt and dark jacket, with his dark hair neatly tousled on his head. His beautiful face was the crowning jewel, making all the rest unimportant. Still, as gorgeous as he was, it was the horse-drawn carriage he stood in front of that stunned me into a frozen position with the doorman waiting on me to open the door.

“Miss?” the doorman asked, wondering if I was going to change my mind.

Then Kalen grinned at me, and I could breathe again. This man made my heart stop just by being. Taking a step forward, the relieved doorman pushed open the door, letting the frigid air blow my wool coat open, giving Kalen a view of my dress. As I stepped towards him in the night, his slow perusal of me lit my body ablaze, taking the bite of the air out of my bones. Entranced by his gaze, I didn’t make a move to close my coat. I hoped I didn’t regret that later by catching a cold. But at that moment, his appreciation of me made it all worth it.

Pulling me into the warmth of his embrace, he said, “Lass, you steal my breath.”

Tilting my head back with his fingers entwined with mine, his mouth was so close yet too far. Leaning down, he gave me my heart’s desire and kissed me. His tongue parted the seam of my lips and dived in for the kill. My legs weakened by his perusal of my mouth. Releasing my hands, he caught me before I could fall. But not quite fast enough before my heart fell prey to him. It wasn’t love, but it was getting damn close.

Giving me a hand up, he said, “Your chariot awaits.”

Looking at him, I took in the white spindly wheels of the carriage. Our pure white steed was tethered to our ride for the evening. To say I was enchanted would be an understatement.

Taking his hand, I peered into his emerald eyes, which sparkled with mischief, and got in. It was chilly, but the evening was utterly romantic. The driver laid a heavy blanket over us. And Kalen held my hand underneath as we were swept away. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“I’ve never ridden in the park. I thought we could unless you don’t want to.”

“No, it sounds great. Actually, I haven’t either. It’s perfect.” Just like the man, I thought.

With his arm around my waist, he tugged me closer. The clear night, with this handsome man, I couldn’t think of a better beginning to a date. Laying my head on his shoulder, I asked, “So why haven’t you ridden in the park before?”

Looking down into my eyes, he said, “There has never been a woman I wanted to take this journey with.”

Smiling at him, I wondered at his meaning. The subtext was there, but did he mean it? “So, tell me about where you’re from?” I asked. With his accent, I assumed he wasn’t native to America, but you never knew.

“I was born here,” he began. And I was shocked by that. It must have shown on my face because he added, “My father met my mum on business in Scotland. After only a few weeks of dating, he asked her to marry him and go back to America. After protest and threats from her family, specifically her father, she still eloped and moved here.”

“Wow,” I said. There must be more to the story. His accent was proof of that.

His face tightened and it was clear he was thinking of times long since passed that weren’t good. I thought he was going to leave it at that, but he continued. “But things weren’t what they seemed. And after I was born, it only got worse. It got so bad, my mum left him with only the clothes she wore and headed back to Scotland with me. Things weren’t so good because she couldn’t go home. My grandfather isn’t a forgiving man.”

As much as I was curious about what he meant by things were bad, I didn’t want to explain my own. So I let it be and instead asked, “Does that mean you have dual citizenship?”

Nodding, he said, “Yes.”

“What brings you back here?” I asked, thinking that wasn’t so personal and an obvious question.

“My father’s business. When he died, he left it all to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not,” he said. Rubbing my arm, he became quiet. Not one to pester, I surveyed the sights of the park. It was dark and rather quiet. The path was clear. The night was too cold for most to be out, I guessed. We continued in silence.

Seeing the road ahead, I knew our ride would be over soon. “Do you mind if we walk the rest of the way?” It may have been crazy because it was so cold, but I wasn’t ready for it to end.

“No,” he said. Signaling the driver, he spoke to the guy, placing some cash in the guy’s palm. Stepping out, I held out a hand for me. Then the carriage drove off and out of the park. Keeping my hand in his, he said, “So tell me about where you’re from. Are you a native New Yorker?”

Shaking my head and loving being with him, I said, “Oh God no. I was born in a small-,” I paused trying to think of the right word, “community in Pennsylvania.”

“What was it like there?” he asked, prodding me to tell more about myself.

I wasn’t sure how to put my upbringing. “My family-,”

“Give me all your money,” a gruff voice said behind us.

We whirled around and Kalen shot out an arm, effectively pushing me behind him. A man stood just outside the light of the lamp that stood between us. However, there was enough to see that he was extremely thin and looked older by circumstances other than age. His skinny neck popped out of several layers of clothes that would fit a larger man than he. His oily looking hair was long and plastered to his head. His wiry hand wheeled a knife and it darted about as if we were moving but we were not. “Just give me a second to reach in my pocket for my wallet.”

“Whatever man. Just don’t try anything.”

Kalen moved slowly. His hand reached into the depths of his coat and came out tentatively during a tense moment where I and the homeless man wondered if he would produce something other than his wallet. Kalen stretched out his hand as the homeless guy reached for it. Kalen pulled back just a little. It was almost hard to notice. The homeless guy, who must have been drunk or high, just kept coming for it like a dog being led to water.

When the guy’s smell wafted up like a wall of skunk, I had to cover my mouth and nose so I didn’t gag. Then with lightning reflex moves, Kalen struck with his wallet-wielding hand. He shot his elbow up and jabbed the guy in the throat. The man immediately used his free hand to cup his undoubtedly throbbing Adam’s apple. But Kalen didn’t stop there. He used his other hand to strike the guy in the solar plexus, sending him crashing to the ground on his back. The knife skittered away from the hand that released it upon impact.

We stood for a second before I said, “Should I call the police?”

Oddly Kalen said, “No,” before opening his wallet and pulling out a large denomination bill and placed it in the guy’s hand. “Go get something to eat.”

The man gave Kalen the oddest expression, probably the same I had—wonder. The man moaned as he rolled and scrabbled to his feet. Scooping up the knife, he disappeared into the cover of shadows.

Kalen took my hand and we began to walk away towards the street. “Why did you just let him go?” I asked.

Turning to me, we stopped for a moment. Looking deep in my eyes, he said the most heartbreaking thing. “Because I know what it’s like to be hungry.”

 

 

BOOK: Assets
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