Head Over Wheels (Steamy New Adult Romance) (15 page)

Confronting the bimbo seemed much easier. "And you're the old friend, Vanessa, correct?" Honey was no match for me.

Vanessa shot daggers at my breasts, while Elizabeth didn't even try to hide her suffering.

"Indigo ..." Even her clucking tongue sounded classy. "I detest when people use that tag to reference my son. His name is James."

"You're his mom?" She'd just told me she was, so why did I even ask? And I'd taken her for Vanessa's sister? She was an attractive blonde, well-preserved and dressed to the hilt, in a sophisticated way.

She lifted her chin. I took the action for a definitive, "Yes."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Ballou. I've heard some lovely things about you."

Her lips pruned."Hmm."

"That's some outfit. Is it real leather?" Vanessa hammered.

Recovered from shock, I sharpened my game. I'd be sly, but gracious to the bimbo. "I don't wear animals." I tucked up the corners of my mouth so tightly, I was sure I'd carved new dimples in my cheeks.

Vanessa's face drooped like a pair of stretched out pantyhose. Her cheeks grew pinker than the angora sweater she wore, and her fingers fumbled with the pearl choker that practically strangled her, as I would have loved to be doing with my bare hands. "Unusual costume. It's nice to see they're inventing new fabrics that can stretch endlessly without ripping." Vanessa smirked.

My eyes reached the floor. Vanessa's flats were the identical color of her outfit. Mrs. Ballou's heels looked croc. Real no doubt. Murderer ...

Facing Vanessa, I exclaimed, "I adore your pumps. Where did you find a store that carries that style in a men's large?" I'd ride her till she crumbled. "I just love your hair," I ran a finger along the air beside her ponytail, "it's so silky. Is that your real color?"

"Can I help you ladies?" Rebecca to the rescue. "Jewelia doesn't work here. She just stopped by." She gave me the brush off. "But I'd be happy to show you something. We've just added new items to our already stunning collection."

The two converged on the jewelry display like flighty birds, fitting themselves between me and the privacy jog in the wall.

"What are you shopping for, Jewelia?" Mother Ballou inquired, scrutinizing my fingers and wrists. I flipped my rose ring to the inside of my hand, because if either one of them insulted the tiny silver petals and gemstone buds, I'd have to defend my father's honor.

"Gold." My fingers made a beeline for my neck.

"Oh, a necklace. Let me see," said Vanessa, her hands reaching it almost as quick as mine.

Holy shit. I'd almost walked away wearing unpaid for AMA merchandise! And they'd press charges, no doubt, even if it was accidental.

"I don't think it's for me." I unclipped the rope and handed it back to Rebecca. "Maybe something in
Swarovski
?"

Rebecca shot me a prudent, "Really?" glance, then returned her attention to the two nags and what she must have thought would be a big commission.

Vanessa grabbed the price tag. "It's awfully plain, which is probably why it's so cheap. Perhaps a dangling diamond pendant would add some style." Her bony finger pointed to a tray of heavily guarded sparkling stones.

As we stood side by side, I managed a thorough assessment of their attire. Both wore sweaters and slim-fitting knee-length skirts. Where Vanessa wore pearls, Mrs. Ballou had tied a geometrically patterned scarf around her neck. Was she concealing a bit of crepe? From her smooth-skinned glow, highly unlikely.

My stomach twisted relentlessly. They seemed to share a lot in common. And then there was Indigo, the object of the three of us. Ouch. I questioned my sanity.

"I have to run, ladies. It was a pleasure meeting you." I focused on Indigo's mother, because if I had much more to do with Vanessa, I'd have ended up dragging her out into the alley bordering the building. I stuck my smile in front of Vanessa's face. "If you stop by cosmetics, Brittany will show you a terrific lip plumping gloss. Research has come up with astonishing formulas that work wonders, even on pencil thin lips."

"Is Brittany the one who decorated you?" Vanessa snapped.

Damn. She was quick.

"Laters." When I tossed my head, my hair didn't even move.

Our parting was strained, our goodbyes as phony as the leather I wore. As I walked away I felt my bagel aim for my throat, so I ducked into the ladies room. False alarm. Still, with a racing pulse, I needed a quick calm me down. I checked the time on my cell and pounded a button for Pete.

Me: Break time Need HELP

Pete: Sorry  Stuck @ accident scene

Me: Fuck

Pete: Kelly's 15 mins

Thank God for best friends. I punched the time clock and hoofed it down to the café. This was Manhattan. Not a face questioned my appearance. I'd had the presence of mind to grab a handful of toilet tissue to dab at my cheeks, and by the time I walked through the door, my eyes were dry.

I scanned the café, which at midday wasn't jammed as it was during breakfast. No crowds. No Pete. Damn. What next? Then I spotted Casey, flagging me from a corner table right beside the door.

"Hey, Casey."

"Are you okay?" His face held concern. He quickly stood and pulled out a chair. "Sit with me."

I flopped down across from him and stretched my aching legs, making sure my skirt covered every inch of thigh. "Where's Pete?"

"Right after you texted him, Peter called me. He sounded alarmed."

"Pete promised he'd never let me down ... And you came in his place when he couldn't." I felt a rush. Tears gathered. "I feel awful dragging you all the way down here, Casey. It wasn't necessary. I'll be fine. Why don't you get back to work before you're missed. I hope I didn't get you in trouble." My bottled thoughts poured out like my lid had popped.

"Don't worry. I'm a supervisor." He winked a nod. "So what's the emergency? Lover's quarrel? Work related?" He pushed forward the extra coffee resting beside him.

I shook off a
no
followed by a jerking
yes
. "Kind of both, maybe. Maybe not ..." I uncoiled my fingers. The moisture evaporated as my palms clamped around the cup.

"So what actually went down?" Casey's gaze was shrewd.

A fine silver chain wrapped his wrist, shooting sparks as he lifted his coffee. With pursed lips, he skimmed the cream from the top. Gosh, he reminded me so much of Pete.

"It was humiliating. Insulting. Degrading." I felt the flush rise.

"I'm still waiting ..." Reaching across the table, he scooped up one of my hands with both of his.

The dam broke. "These two women ... this guy's mother ... this girl ... I don't lack confidence, Casey, but I swear, these two ..."

His face filled with sympathy. "Does the fellow you're in love with know you're being harassed?"

"I doubt it. Vanessa operates undercover." Realizing Casey's inference, I gasped. "In love with him? How could I be in love with him? I just met him."

Casey nodded. "Love at first sight isn't only in theaters."

"You don't think so?" A lump formed in my throat. "It happened to you?"

He smiled.

"Pete?" Who couldn't fall in love with Pete.

"I was in a men's shop, standing behind a sale rack of shirts. These big hands on the other side of the rack seemed insistent upon sliding every hanger I placed my fingers around."

"Pete." I grinned.

Casey's face lit with the memory. "I had no idea who it was, or if he even knew what he was doing, but it was quite frustrating. We eventually started pulling and shoving the hangers back and forth until half the shirts were on the floor."

"Oh, no." I laughed.

"When I tried to snatch one particular shirt I'd been admiring, it wouldn't budge from the rack, because Peter's big hands refused to release it."

"It must have been a riot." Enjoying the warmth of his presence, I leaned forward with interest.

"It almost started one." He sipped his coffee then set his cup down. "So, I decided to be the bigger person and let go of the shirt, then strode around the corner to confront the perpetrator. After a few moments of staring, without a word, Peter threw the shirt at me and stomped off."

"And you knew it then?"

"I did." His hazel eyes glistened. "I bought the shirt, had it gift wrapped and held onto it, because I knew our paths would cross again."

"You did?" I knew I was gaping, but couldn't control my emotions, no less my face.

"Absolutely. And some three weeks later we ran into one another at a coffee shop. The rest is history."

"How sweet." The lump in my throat grew so large I could barely swallow.

"I guess that's kind of how I felt the first time I saw Indigo. Our eyes met and wow, I went reeling. I'm supposed to see him tomorrow ... but I just don't know if I should. I mean, how much fighting can you do for someone? Maybe it's more trouble than it's worth. I'm under too much pressure. I have a promising future ahead of me. I don't need this in my life right now."

A breath gushed through Casey's lips. "Sounds painful, and serious. Two bitches ganged up on you and now you're about to fall apart."

"It shows, huh. I can handle myself, but this was in work where I couldn't do a damned thing about it. How can people be so mean?" As I relayed the horror of the encounter, my lips trembled. "Why are people so cruel?"

"I wish I could answer that, hon." Casey's earthy eyes bore into mine. "Refusal to understand. In your case, more than likely envy." While he tilted his head, his lips stretched into a grim line. "I've been there, Jewel. On more than one occasion."

"I wanted to knock her teeth in."

"I have." He grinned. "Not everyone's accepting. We deserve better treatment, but unfortunately, that's the way of our species sometimes. But don't let anyone bully you. Gotta have a strong neck."

"Hold my head high." I smiled. He was compassionate, so much like Pete. I reached across the table, grasping both of his hands. "Thank you, Casey. You've made me feel so much better."

"I'm happy to help. Call me if you need me." He reached into a pocket and slid a business card across the table. "Right now, I have to get back to work."

I checked the clock on the wall. "Holy shit. Me too or I'll be out of a job."

I hugged him and together we exited, each jogging off in our own direction.

W
hen I noticed the flash, I was dolled up and pacing, my heels embossing dime-sized impressions into my plush bedroom carpet.

"Great timing, thunderstorm. And I spent an hour getting my hair to cooperate."

I kicked off my shoes and padded to the window where I watched a grid work of lightning electrify the distant sky.

"Why am I doing this?" I made sure my voice reached Emma's room. "I have no idea where we're going. If we're even going."

Crap. He's standing me up.
My heart sank.

I rummaged through my nightstand, then rearranged everything in my chest of drawers. It was nowhere.

"Emma! Have you seen my crystal studded hair clip?"

I'd tossed my cell on my bed an hour prior, and the ringer was maxed, so I'd hear it just about anywhere in the apartment. Not that I planned on leaving the phone unattended. Cradling it in my palm, I flounced into the living room.

"He's not texting ... or calling ..." I stared at the blank face of my phone. "You know. I'm gonna turn this thing off right now and get out of these clothes." I spun, ready to leave the room. "He's gonna flake. I feel it in my gut."

"He'll call." Emma twirled me around. "Jewel. You know what his schedule is like. He made a date with you. Will you chill?" She pulled up the top and sides of my hair, and strategically placed the clip so a thick knot sat on the crown of my head, unveiling my beaded hoop earrings.

My fingers checked her accuracy. "He's got one hell of a nerve thinking I'm gonna be sitting here waiting."

Emma took hold of my shoulders, giving me an affectionate shake. "Stop it, Jewel. You're flushing. Next you'll be breaking a sweat. Sit down and relax. Do you want to look like you've just finished ten sets of pushups when you meet up with him?"

"
If
we meet up. I look like a blimp in this dress."

"You look great."

"It's just as well we're not seeing each other tonight. Look at my stomach. I'm getting my period. Crap ... it's protruding like a bowling ball."

"You're beyond anyone's help." She shook her head.

I padded into my room to step back into my heels and do a last-minute check of my reflection, just in case.

"What was that?"

"It's the buzzer, Jewel." Emma annunciated slowly, as if speaking to a child.

"The buzzer? What the ... Who is it, Em?"

Without expectation, I thudded to the window. Pedestrians strolled beneath the flush of street lamps, but no one paused under the building's canvas canopy.

The only other thing I noticed, and not entirely unusual for the area, was the double parked vehicle, three floors below where I stood. Cars edged around it with ease, a few honking out of anger, because an inconsiderate moron had the nerve to block their path. It happened all the time. Around here, nerves ran rampant, and at that moment mine were so tight, with the help of a guitar pick, they could have plucked out jazz.

As I ran into the living room, Emma was in process of announcing, "It's Indigo ..." She looked as shocked as I felt. "Wow. He's here ..."

She didn't have to tell me who it was. I'd recognize that voice if I wore ear plugs in the middle of Grand Central Station during Black Friday rush hour.

Grinning like an idiot, I restrained a squeal, but managed to mouth an overzealous, "I'm nervous." I shook my hands out in front of me as if flicking off pins and needles, then hit the call button with the pad of my middle finger. "Hey."

"Hey. Come on down ... before I get towed away." His words reverberated through the speaker, followed by a faded chuckle. Simply hearing his voice made me shiver. I almost spaced.

"Indigo. Um, what a surprise. Be right there." My voice tunneled down on the heels of his.

After cutting our connection I whirled. "What the hell? He said he'd text me." I forced my facial muscles to relax so my foundation didn't settle in the creases Emma swore no one else could see.

Em, arms crossing her chest innocently, shrugged and bobbed her head. "It's nice when a guy's spontaneous."

I rolled my eyes, yanked up my top and pulled down the hem of the dress I wasn't sure had been the best choice. "Wish me luck."

She hugged me. "Depending upon the time, I may not be here when you get back. I'm going out with Billy." Her glowing face floated before me.

"Maybe we should have doubled."

"Don't be such a wuss. I've never seen you this way. He won't bite, Jewel. At least I hope not."

"Mmm. Might be nice." I giggled on the way out the door, but soon grew serious.
This is it. Oh my God, he's really here. How are you gonna act, girl? Like he's just another guy like Pete. That's it. Pretend he's Pete!

As soon as the elevator opened, I loosened my hips and swept into the lobby, making as dramatic an entrance as possible in heels that required precision balance. Back to me, Indigo stood gazing out the window, idly whistling something that sounded like a
Maroon 5
song.

"Hey," I called sweetly from a distance, so his first glance would capture the full view. "Here I am."
How ever did I make my voice sing like that? I'd have to remember so I could reproduce the awesome sound for Emma.

He spun around, all smiles and casual, fidgeting with his keychain. Then his hands dropped to his sides. His handsome features morphed, clouding as though he was struggling with a ten-second decoding of the shocking message his eyes had delivered to his brain. He swallowed hard, looking at me the same way he'd done in the park when I approached.

I should have worn flats. Walking with wobbly legs would have been easier then.

I straightened my smile and cozied up to him, my lips aimed at his cheek, but his mouth caught mine first. "You look beautiful," he said after his lips pressed and released mine.

"Thank you." I softened my voice, then took a step back, hugging the small handbag I carried beneath my arm tighter. "You didn't call. I wasn't sure where we were going. What to wear." I concealed the deep breath I required to continue speaking.

His lips puckered just enough to look adorable. "I guess I can't use the same excuse twice, huh?"

My head automatically tilted.

"I'm spontaneous?"

I cocked a brow and smirked, then smiled. "Once a charm, twice won't cut it. I'll let you slide this time, but three strikes and you're out."

His brows lifted dramatically. "I'll have to remember that."

No one had ever picked me up wearing a suit before, and for a silly moment I felt like I was on my way to a wedding. That was pushing it. A prom maybe. "You look amazing. Am I too dressed up? Down?" My lashes fluttered above my questioning eyes.

"You're perfect, especially for the place I have in mind." He reached out, placing his hands on my shoulders, with a half smile, deliberately assessing. "You couldn't look any more perfect if I'd dressed you myself." The look on his face sent a chill down my spine. Did his words have a double meaning? If I'd had to describe his response, it was like a wisp of feathery smoke drifting into an airy sky on a blustery day. And being near him so made my head swim.

Even with stilettos, we didn't stand eye to eye. I gazed up at him, murmuring, "Hello."

What? Oh my God. Did I actually double my greeting?
Grandma ... I'm sure you must have been through this ... help!

I cleared my throat, readying for his chuckle. But he remained silent while his eyes swept my face, roamed my cleavage.

With my index finger, I brought his chin up. "I'm glad you like my dress."

Pleasure danced in his eyes, then his face went soft, his expression anything but amused. "Not just your dress."

Holy shit. What was he trying to do to me?

I had a feeling our heated phone call was streaming through his head as well as mine. I could tell by the way his fingers gripped my waist, dropped to my hips. Securing my clutch bag beneath an arm, I ran my hands up the inside of his lapels, grazing the charcoal pinstriped fabric. It was silky smooth. I'd never felt anything so expensive other than garments in the clothing departments of AMA – and never on a breathing person. Not like the arrestingly alive, warm, muscular guy who was standing before me, heating in my palms, our lips threatening to meet once more.

Our eyes held for so long, it felt like the next day's sun should have already risen. He finally eased me away, gazing at me like an astronomer observing the birth of a new planet.

When a neighbor opened the heavy front door, passing traffic grew closer, the incessant honking of horns urgent. It was the first time my eyes left his since I entered the lobby.

"Impatient drivers. So annoying." One of my hands slipped from his jacket onto his soft mint colored shirt, also smooth and silky. I couldn't help but stroke the fabric; beneath it, I felt the warmth of his chest. My fingers stalled, pressed, attempting to trace the beat of his heart.

"Well, I'm kind of blocking half the road." Looking down at me, he smiled. His hands touched the part of my back bared by my dress, and after a delectable moment, he said, "We better go ... before I get a parking ticket."

His chuckle was faded, as through the intercom. I assumed it was his way of breaking the ice, which in my estimation, had already been cracked, chunked, crushed into a snow cone, and liquefied in one-hundred-ten degree body heat ... mine. Then his warm arm folded around my waist as he ushered me to the door, holding it open so I could pass through first. I imagined his eyes assessing me from behind, and took my time exiting.

I angled my head, watching the fall of his steps beside me. "Never worry about parking tickets. Pete would take care of them." I put my arm around him.

Did his body stiffen? Was he still not over Pete?

He led me to a silver Wrangler and pulled the door open. "Slide in," he said smoothly. "Careful you don't snag your dress on the molding." Like a gentleman, he waited beside me.

I made certain to guard my modesty as I climbed in, demurely folding my legs.

He closed the door after I settled, strode to the other side and hopped in, like I would have had I been wearing jeans.

He slid the key into the ignition, but before starting the engine, turned to me. "Hungry?"

"As a bear." I grinned, angling to watch him watch me.

"Do you like seafood?" His index finger traced the side of my face, lifting a wisp of hair from my temple.

Light from a street lamp fell across his profile. He was half shadow, half scrumptious male. Although distant sounds of traffic shattered the silence, I was lost in the moment, and it was only him and me, alone on the entire planet.

Nodding, I covered his hand with mine. "Mmm, yes, and I love this car. My parents have always driven Jeeps. But the big ones."

His fingers left mine to grip the wheel. I hated sharing his attention with the road, and imagined us in the back of a darkened limo, hidden behind a privacy shade, sharing more than the planet.

"I like this model because the top comes off. Great for summer nights." As he drove, he stole a glance at me. His voice was light, cheerful. He obviously liked his wheels. I was struck with a sudden image of him as a little boy, rolling a toy car back and forth on the floor. Boyish on top of hot, just what I needed.

"I bet it's great. The doors come off too, huh? How's that work out for you?"

He laughed, looked quickly at me and then back at the road. "Works out just fine. Not on a night like this, though." Stealing another glance, his eyes took in mine, then cut back to the road.

"Huh?"

"It's going to rain tonight."

"And this you know for certain? Because other than a few lightning strikes earlier this evening, the sky looks pretty clear to me." Gazing out the half open window, I watched the blur of neon signs we passed. I slid the window down further, protected my hair from the breeze, and stuck my face nearer the outside. "I don't smell it in the air either, and I have a good nose."

Driving into heavier traffic, he spoke without taking his eyes off the road. "Your nose is lovely, and rain has been forecasted since Monday. Which is why I decided to pick you up at your apartment."

I twisted in the seat to confront his profile. "So you didn't call all week because you knew it was going to rain tonight and that you'd be picking me up?"

"Is that a bad thing?" The side of his cheek crinkled with a grin I only saw part of until he shot another two-second glance my way. "You're not angry with me, are you?" I noticed his brows scrunch together.

"Well, no, but ...You have time to listen to the weather?"

"And news, and catch some sports. Does that surprise you?" His focus swung back to the road and the line of taillights before us.

"Um. I figured since you barely keep in touch ... I kind of thought it was because you're too busy."

"I screwed up again, huh? Guess I need practice." When he spoke, I felt a disturbing distance. Had he screwed up with her? And that's why she'd left him? What could he have done?