Beautiful Oblivion (16 page)

“I told him it was fine.” A wicked grin plays on her lips. “After all, he explained that he and Joanna go way back, that they’re just
friends
.”

“Body shots with friends?” Brylee is unimpressed. “You should’ve told him that Joanna is friendly with a
lot
of people—that she practically invented the fine art of skiing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I squint into Bry, partially because I know I’m about to get schooled.

“You know.” She averts her eyes at my stupidity. Brylee has long since been kind enough to spell things out for me. “It’s when a girl helps out two guys at the same time with their—”

“Stop.” I slam my hands up over my ears and repeat the words,
skiing is a wholesome sport
, over and over, until my heart stops palpitating from her wayward verbal assault. That’s the thing with Bry, not only does she call it like she sees it, but she sees far too much for me to ever care to know.

“It is fine.” Kennedy smirks. “Because right after I told him that, I had Charlie slit his tires.”

“That’s the sister I know and love.” I’d offer her a high five, but judging by her NASCAR driving skills, all fingers are required on deck.

Kennedy takes a sharp turn as we head toward the chi-chi day spa Beverly likes to frequent.

“I hate cheaters,” she laments as she screeches into the valet parking queue, nearly taking out the attendant.

Brylee pops her head between the two of us and openly glares at me with her eyes jetting out like hardboiled eggs. “I hate cheaters, too.”

“Would you stop?” I balk at her. “I’m not a cheater. And don’t do that thing with your eyes. It’s freaky.”

Brylee raises a penciled brow at me. “Nobody said you were.”

I’m
not
a cheater. But if I’m not, why do I feel sick to my stomach when I think of Ace and Warren taking up the same breathing space?

Maybe I should break things off with Warren—just to be clear. I guess that’s me admitting we’re sort of together.

I hate it when Kennedy and Brylee turn out to be right.

The Lux Spa in Collingsworth is a modern day architectural marvel. The facility, itself, is enshrined in jasper and gold thus garnering Beverly’s seal of approval for its fusion of precious stones and alloys. The entire place holds the heavenly scent of lavender and the memory of fresh ocean breezes. There’s even a seventeen-foot statue of Michelangelo’s David in the foyer that we traditionally pause to worship because his anatomy is so stunningly vulgar.

Brylee looks up wide-eyed and amazed. “His dick is as long as my forearm.” She says it as a fact.

“My new boyfriend.” Kennedy declares while she steps underneath him and snaps a selfie.

“So”—Brylee hooks her elbow with mine as we make our way to the check in—“what happened after dark? Are you holding back the dirty deets?”

“Nothing,” I’m quick to say as we store our purses and shoes into our lockers and exchange our clothes for plush, white robes. “He was a perfect gentleman.” The memory of his tongue smoothing over mine for hours sends me into a private heat wave. “We kissed.” I stop short of adding it was no big deal because every part of me knows full well it was a very
big
deal—as big as David’s man hammer, but I choose not to drag Kennedy’s new boyfriend into the picture.

Ace and those things we did last night come rushing back to me. It felt comfortable, familiar—we were Reese and Ace just like old times with some tonsil hockey thrown into the mix. My face heats up ten degrees. I may have accidently told him that I loved him, and he confessed that I was his special someone. Only, it sounds better than it was because we were both talking out of context.

“You
kissed
?” Kennedy flashes her boobs to get a rise out of me, and I avert my eyes at her sophomoric efforts. The truth is I’ve seen her boobs more than I’ve seen mine. Kennedy likes to resort to flashing when she’s fresh out of ways to offend me. “Did he whip it out and let you hold it?”

“I’m ignoring that. And, by the way, your nipples are like twelve times the size they’re supposed to be.” There. Maybe if I give her a nipple complex, she’ll lay off on the bazooka assault for a while. I shake out my hair as we head into the salon. “Like I said, Ace is a gentleman.” We take seats next to one another as an attendant wheels over a footbath to each of us. “Oh, this feels good,” I groan as my feet slip into the warm, soapy water.

“Is that what you said to him?” Kennedy snickers into Brylee.

“Laugh all you want girls, but I got the real deal in Ace.”

“More like the real
limited time
deal.” Kennedy holds my gaze a moment too long.

“Are you cruising for a bruising?” I’m only half teasing. I’m not above going street on her ass right here in the princess lounge.

“Calm down. I’m just saying you can change that. Once summer wraps up, tell him you’d like an extension on your contract. If you play your cards right and
blow
him away, then he’ll practically beg to keep you around.”

I mull it over a second, giving her a pass on the BJ innuendo. Anyway, checking Kennedy on the corruption that comes from her mouth is pretty much useless. There are no bounds to Kennedy’s crudeness.

“File an extension huh?” I look over at my raunchy stepsister. “Way to make my love life sound like an unpleasant IRS transaction.”

“Nevertheless”—Kennedy rolls her head over her neck—“make sure you’re good in bed. That way he’ll come back for more.”

Brylee moans in agreement. “I bet Joanna Knickerbocker is brilliant in bed.” She shakes her head in disgust. “I bet she swallows.”

Kennedy jolts to an upright position as if Brylee just spewed some serious insanity around the room. “You
spit
?”

“You
swallow
?” Brylee matches her tone for tone.

“Would you both knock it off?” I hiss. “You’re causing a spermtacular scene. If you don’t keep it down, they’ll ejaculate us right out of here.”

Kennedy rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s either
or
sister. If I were you, I’d make up my mind right now where your lingual loyalties lie.” She glances up at the ceiling a moment. “And no matter what—make sure you kiss him after. That’s the test of a real man.”

Brylee groans at the visual, and I let out a breath. Because sometimes, there’s just nothing left to say.

Kennedy’s phone goes off, and her affect brightens. “Well, looky here.” She wags it in my face a moment. “A text from Warren McCarthy.
Bring Reese by the office around five. I have a killer surprise. Don’t tell her
.” Kennedy annunciates each word before punching something into her cell and hitting send.

“What did you say?” The words speed out of me in a panic. She’s all over the place today no thanks to Keith and his insatiable urge for body shots.

“I told him I’d have you there with bells on.” She gleams a black smile, and my heart sinks. “That I wouldn’t say a word.”

“Perfect.” I’m plotting my revenge already. I sense a tragic separation in the works for her favorite pair of Prada shoes. It wouldn’t be the first right-footed heel I’ve used as a paperweight.

Brylee bubbles out a laugh as the attendants start in on our pedicures. “Looks like someone has a date with her ‘boyfriend’ tonight.”

“I guess tonight’s the night, then.” I swallow hard then glare at Kennedy for ruining a simple bodily function for me.

Spit or swallow. I shake my head. I don’t know what I’ll do when I get to that point with Ace. But I do know what I’m doing with Warren tonight, and it doesn’t even remotely involve procreation or any of its liquid facets.

“Prepare to comfort him, girls,” I purr. “Tomorrow morning, Warren McCarthy is going to have a serious case of the break-up blues.”

Then, maybe, Ace and I can take things to a deeper level. Maybe Ace will give me that relationship extension sooner than I think.

I sink into my seat and try to relax as the attendant scrubs my feet like she’s sloughing Warren, himself, off my body.

I push all thoughts of Warren McCarthy and our “date” right out of my mind. Instead, I think of Ace and lose myself with the only pressing decision I want to have at the moment, and that just so happens to involve my gag reflex.

After hours of primping and pampering and having our hair and makeup done to the hilt, we reconvene in Kennedy’s Range Rover and prepare for the long drive home.

Kennedy leans into the rearview mirror and makes a face. “On a scale of Mother Teresa to transvestite, what do you think?”

“Oh, hon”—Brylee gives a guttural laugh—“just mentioning yourself in the same breath as Mother Teresa is an unforgivable sin.”

“You would know,” she counters. “Anyway it doesn’t matter. Unlike Reese here, I won’t have two men vying for my affection tonight.”

Ace runs through my mind, our secret hideaway in the woods—Gavin’s boathouse—chocolate. This summer is rife with delicious secrets. I can hardly wait to see him tonight. Maybe I should do something amazing for him? Take him somewhere and show
him
a good time.

Kennedy drives for a few minutes before pulling into a parking spot and not until I look out the window do I realize what she’s up to.

“Shit,” I mutter, staring at the tall office building of Westfield and McCarthy. It sits nestled in a hub of skyscrapers in downtown Collingsworth. The gilded sign with my family’s surname right next to Warren’s sits prominent on the outside, and just the sight inspires a roll of nausea to push through me. I forgot all about my breakup date with Warren. I spot Dad’s black sedan gleaming in the early evening light, and, for whatever it’s worth, it adds a safety measure.

“Let’s get this over with,” Brylee huffs as she gets out of the car. You’d think she were the one responsible for twisting Warren’s balls off in the next few hours the way she exemplified exactly how I felt.

I glare over at Kennedy a moment. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“You’ll
thank
me later.”

As if.

We get out and head into the air-conditioned building where Daddy waits to greet us down in the reception area.

Odd.

“Hey, hey, the gang’s all here.” He pulls all three of us into an embrace, and I take in his spiced cologne. Dad has always been kind to Bry. Brylee feels every bit as much family as Kennedy if not more. “Rumor has it one of you lucky ladies has something special waiting for her on the rooftop. Shall we?” He teases just as the elevator opens, and we hop inside.

“The roof?” I shoot a quick look to Kennedy and Brylee. What the hell could be happening on a rooftop? Could Warren be threatening a swan dive off a twenty-four story office building? Not likely. Plus, I doubt my father would be grinning like a goof at the thought, also we’re lacking an entire emergency response squad, so there’s that. Whatever the hell it is, this isn’t going to end well. Rooftops and breakups never go hand in hand.

“Promise me something.” Daddy pulls me in by the shoulders. “You’ll have the time of your life tonight?”

“Oh, I will,” I assert. Just as soon as I get back home and finish off the evening with Ace. Although technically I plan on gifting Ace the time of his life. In about an hour, I hope to have no memory of this rooftop experience. Besides, I suddenly have a severe craving for heady kisses and chocolate, and they both involve Ace.

The doors whoosh open, and an obnoxious pelting sound thumps through my skull.

Dad escorts us out, and to my fucking horror, I spot Warren standing fifty feet in front of a helicopter that looks as if it’s ready to whisk us away at a moment’s notice.

“Oh, no.” I grip onto the nearest hand, which happens to belong to Kennedy.

“Oh,
yes!
” My father proudly chides.

Warren comes over in his neat three-piece suit, his hair slicked back with a heavy polish. His strong, tangy cologne permeates the area before he does. He pulls me into a hard embrace and lands a wet, sloppy kiss on the side of my cheek.

“You ready to be whisked away on a magical mystery date?” He barks out a laugh as if it wasn’t a question at all.