By Degrees (22 page)

No one answers her.
 
We’re almost to the door.

The girl on her other side says, “That’s probably his new girlfriend.
 
What happened to Jelly, Tarin?
 
What happened to Jelly?
 
Are you broken up now?”

The blonde smacks her friend on the back hard. “Shut up, Lindsay!
 
Jelly Dumbshit Summers is
not
his girlfriend and neither is this skank!”

“Watch who you’re calling a skank,” says Scott.

“Get out of my way, twig,” she says to him, stepping forward to shove him away.

He stands his ground, moving sideways to block her attempts to get closer.
 
He’s rewarded with a slap to the side of his head as she keeps trying to move forward. “Back off, Posey or whatever your name is,” he warns, trying to trap her hands and keep her from girl slapping him anymore.
 
“Tarin doesn’t want you to come that close.”

“Shut up!” she spits out at him, yanking her hands away from him. “You don’t know what Tarin wants.
 
I’m his biggest fan.
 
Tell him, Tarin!
 
Tell him!
 
You want me here, right?”

I stare at Tarin, a warning in my eyes.
 
He looks down at me and for a split-second, I can tell he’s warring with himself.
 
The angel and the demon on his shoulders are in a wrestling match.

But then the devil takes him and he opens his mouth.
 
“Yeah, she’s my biggest fan.
 
Nice seeing you, Posey, but I don’t have time to hang out.
 
I have to go talk to some lawyers.”

Posey nearly passes out with the attention. She faces her girlfriends, flicking her curls around her face.
 
“Oh my god, see?
 
See?!
 
I told you he loves me.”
 
She goes back to idolizing Tarin.
 
“Tarin!
 
I can go with you in there if you want!
 
I can go with you and sit with you or whatever!
 
I’ll do whatever you want!”

I have ceased to exist as anything but an obstacle to be smashed through for this nutty chick.
 
Right now if Tarin were to tell her to scratch my eyeballs out, she’d do it without blinking.
 
It’s scary to see someone so caught up in the moment and this obsessed.
 
Reality has completely disappeared for her, and Tarin is doing nothing but making it worse.
 
The worst part is, he knows it.
 
He’s having fun making her do this to herself, and it makes me sick.

Elbowing him in the ribs, I force him to detach his arm from my waist.

“Ow, what’d you do that for?” he asks, slightly amused.

“Shut up and get in the building.”

His good mood begins to fade.
 
“I’ll go.
 
Just give me a minute.”

The bastard is enjoying this whole thing, how poor Posey is losing her mind over him and how I’m standing here being annoyed at both of them.
 
He’s playing with us like we’re pawns in a stupid chess game.

It’s in this moment that I begin to really dislike Tarin as a person, and that’s never happened before with any of my clients.
 
As I look at his twisted smile, I start to wonder why I even agreed to take this job.

Maybe he sees the shift of my thoughts in my expression, but something causes him to lose that smile.
 
“What?” he asks me, like he’s completely innocent and clueless.

“Just get inside,” I say, leaving him out there to deal with his mess.
 
I feel a little guilty about abandoning Ricky and Scott there too, but I know if I stay, I’ll say or do things that will end this job.
 
And as much as I’m disgusted by Tarin right now, it doesn’t mean he is no longer worth saving.
 
He’s just not going to be one of those clients I become friends with and stay in touch with, like Jack.
 
No, definitely not.
He’ll be the first one of the six that I normalize and then leave behind.
 
Forever
.
 
The fact that he might be beyond saving barely enters my mind, and as soon as it does, I throw the thought out like garbage.
 
I will not accept defeat.

Chapter Twenty

I TAKE THE ELEVATOR UP to an office on the twelfth floor.
 
The view of downtown is spectacular, making me wonder what the rent is for a place like this.
 
Probably more than I make in a month.
 
Everything is ultra-modern, down to the hard black leather couch with chrome legs that sits in the corner of the reception area with two matching, equally uncomfortable-looking armchairs.

Mostly women are coming and going out of the reception area, and all of them are dressed in tight-fitting, tailored suits.
 
I’m so glad I’m not working in a place like this all the time like they are.
 
I may have to deal with egotistical dumbnuts sometimes, but at least I’m not cooped up in a gilded cage.

“May I help you?” asks the young girl at the desk.
 
She has her dark brown hair up in a sophisticated chignon, and she’s wearing chic, librarian-like, black-rimmed glasses.

“I’m here to see Nick Galanos.
 
We have an appointment.
 
My name is Scarlett Barnes.”

She smiles.
 
“Yes, he’s expecting you.
 
Please have a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here.”
 
She picks up her phone handset and presses some buttons as I turn away.

I wander over to a rack of booklets. The one at eye-level mentions estate planning.
 
Just from the literature available and the office space alone, I can tell this is a big firm that positions itself to handle all the legal needs of its wealthy clients.
 
It’s a one-stop shop where the rich and famous can happily unload buckets of their hard-earned cash for estate planning, contract negotiation, divorce, and criminal defense.

“Ms. Barnes?”

I turn around to face the male voice coming from behind me.
 
I’m a little shocked at first by what I find there, having had no idea that I’d be meeting with a Greek god today.
 
I should have known by his name.
 
Nick Galanos.
 
The Greek god of sexy.
 
God of handsome.
 
God of thrumming pulses…

He holds out his hand and smiles.
 
I catch a glimpse of perfectly manicured fingernails and cuticles as it comes towards me.
 
Of course his teeth are perfectly straight and white.
 
Veneers.
 
Don’t be too impressed.
 
Relax
.
 
His hair is thick and wavy, maybe a little longer than most lawyers would wear; but of course, he tends to the legal needs of celebrities, so a little bit of bolder fashion goes a long way.
 
His suit is classic in style, tailored to make the most of his broad shoulders and trim waist.
 
As his hands stretches forward to take mine, his jacket slides up a little and diamond-encrusted cufflinks twinkle under the fluorescent lights.
 
He is the total package.
 
I’m willing to bet he’s either gay or a total prick to women.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, meaning it with every ounce of my being.
 
His refinement is a perfect balm for my nerves right now, regardless of the fact that he’s not dating material in my mind.
 
Rowdy lunatic fans and Tarin’s careless treatment of both them and me has me ragged.
 
Holding Nick’s smooth palm in mine, I feel as though I’m getting ready to have a spa day.
 
A hot oil massage followed by a warm relaxing jacuzzi spell, and then perhaps a pedicure…

My euphoric fantasy is rudely yanked away moments after the elevator doors open.
 
High pitched and breathy giggles rake against my eardrums, making me cringe.
 
I don’t want to turn around because I know the nightmare that awaits.

Nick’s hand slides away from mine, reluctantly perhaps.
 
He looks at me thoughtfully for a couple seconds before turning to face the ruckus at the elevator.

“Tarin.
 
Nice to see you.”
 
He walks over and holds out his hand first to Tarin, then to Ricky and Scott, and finally to Posey.

My heart drops into my stomach as I take in the scene.
 
I feel physically ill. Tarin has his arm looped over the young girl’s shoulders, and she’s having what looks like happiness seizures as she clings to him with both arms.
 
He’s in a fan straightjacket.
 
My expression goes murderous, and Scott sees it.
 
He rolls his eyes in commiseration.

“What’s up, Nick?”
 
Tarin detaches an arm from Posey’s arm-clamps and shakes his lawyer’s hand.

“Not much, not much.
 
Keeping busy.
 
How about you?”

Tarin shrugs.
 
“You know me.
 
Busy having fun.”
 
He looks down at the cling-on stuck to his side, and she bursts into more giggles.
 
It’s positively nauseating.

“Is she going to wait out here or …”
 
Nick’s meaning is clear, and anyone with a brain would answer
yes
to his question.

“Nah, she’s with us.”
 
Tarin looks down at her once more and squeezes her closer. Then he looks up at me with a smug smile.

There’s nothing I want more right now than to walk over and slap his expression right off his stupid face.
 
I make a mental note to give him a good sock in the kisser when we’re in the ring next time.
 
I’m so going to make him eat a knuckle sandwich.
 
That thought, that delicious little promise to myself, is the only thing keeping me sane right now.

Scott gets a slightly panicked expression on his face as he watches me make my way over.
 
I go slowly, keeping my eyes on Tarin’s until I’m standing right in front of him and his leech.
 
We’re just two feet apart.
 
Then I look directly at Posey, using the sweetest voice I’m capable of conjuring at this point.

“I’m sorry, Posey, but you’re not invited to this meeting.
 
You can wait downstairs where Tarin will be happy to say goodbye to you.”
 
My voice goes harsh.
 
“But just so we’re clear … you’re not going to be hanging out with Tarin, going to meetings with Tarin, partying with Tarin, or having sex with Tarin, okay?
 
None of that is going to happen.
 
Not now, not ever.
 
Just get it out of your mind and move on.”

Her nostrils flare and her lips thin.
 
“Who the hell are you, his mother?”

“If that makes it easier for you, sure.
 
I’m his mother.”

“She ain’t my mother,” says Tarin.
 
He’s probably glaring at me, but I don’t even spare him a glance.
 
I have zero respect for him right now.
 
He’s just a project to me, something that is broken that must be fixed.
 
This game he’s playing with this stupid girl is wrong on so many levels I don’t even want to think about it.
 
She just needs to be gone so I don’t hurt him or her.

“Ricky, please escort her out of the building,” I say calmly.

Nick places his hand gently on my upper arm to get my attention.
 
“Would you like me to call security?”

I nod and his hand disappears.
 
He whispers to the receptionist and then I hear the phone coming off the hook.

Posey detaches herself from Tarin’s side and reaches up with jerky motions to adjust her hair, obviously uncomfortable but still determined to see this mess through.

“Tarin invited me up here, which means Tarin
wants
me here, so you can just get the hell out of my way because nobody and nothing is going to stop me from being with him.”
 
She looks at Tarin, and seeing no argument coming from him, becomes even bolder.
 
“You’re just jealous because he doesn’t go for sloppy skanks like you, and you struck out.
 
But it’s not my problem that you shop at Goodwill and don’t appreciate him like I do, so I advise you to just get out of the way before you get trampled.”

She reaches out to push me aside, and I grab her wrist.

That’s all I need to do to stop the foolishness.
 
This girl is obviously no fighter.
 
She cringes with the pain.
 
Gripping it tightly, I step closer.
 
“Don’t be stupid, Posey.
 
Touch me again and I’ll bust open that plastic nose of yours and make you so ugly your own friends won’t claim you.”

She tries to yank her hand away, looking desperately at Tarin.
 
“Tell her, Tarin!
 
Ow!
 
She’s hurting me.
 
Tell her!”

Tarin has the decency to look embarrassed.
 
“Aw, man, come on, Scarlett.
 
Let her go. We were just playing around.”

I throw her hand down and away from me while I stare at him.
 
“Was it fun?”

“What?” he asks stupidly, pretending he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

Coward.
 
I deliver up every ounce of disappointment I have in him with my expression.
 
He has the decency to look slightly ill.