March (Calendar Girl #3)

March: Calendar Girl

Book 3

By Audrey Carlan

Text copyright © 2015 Audrey Carlan

ISBN Electronic

ISBN-10:
0-9909143-7-2

ISBN-13:
978-0-9909143-7-2

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic format without expressed permission by the author.

Editing:
Red Quill Editing, LLC 

Editor - Ekaterina Sayanova

www.redquillingediting.net

Cover Design:
Tibbs Design

Graphics Designer - Valerie Tibbs

www.tibbsdesign.com 
 

D
EDICATION

Heather White

Mia is in Chicago because of you.

You too left the familiar and went on a journey.

This month’s book shows how amazing taking risks can be.

Sometimes they are life changing, life altering even.

More often than not, they are worth it.

You are beautiful and I adore your presence in my life.

BESOS my lovely.

C
HAPTER 1

The second my feet hit the ground level of the airport in Vegas, I was smashed between two bodies, one long and lengthy, the other petite and feisty. My nostrils were assaulted with the scent of mint gum and cherries as the two wiggly bodies bounced me up and down simultaneously screaming. The sound was an exact replica of the hyenas screeching in their cage at the zoo Alec and I had visited in Portland.

“God, I missed your face,” Gin said before laying a wet one right on my lips. Ah, there’s the mint gum. Then she was pushed out of the way, and my baby sister, Maddy, pulled me into her long arms. Cherries. Ever since she was a little girl, she’s always smelled like cherries. I didn’t want to know why. Like everything else, I accepted that it just was. That’s all that mattered. Maddy held me close, her much taller frame making my five foot eight size seem small. Even though I was the big sister, she still held the record for height in our small family at five foot eleven. At nineteen, she was a definite beauty, but hadn’t quite filled in like I had at her age.  She seemed to have an unbeatable metabolism that kept her rail thin. Lucky girl.

Maddy’s eyes filled with tears. I cupped both her cheeks. “Prettiest girl in all the world,” I said watching the tears fall. “But only when you smile…”

“You always say that.” Her lips tipped up, and I was graced with the smile I adored more than any other person’s.

“Because it’s true. And you are. Right Gin?”

Gin smacked her gum then locked her elbow with mine. “Yep. Now let’s blow this popsicle joint.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s popsicle
stand
, Gin.”

Ginelle stopped in the middle of the airport arrivals. “Whatever, ho, you know what I meant. Who died and made you Mr. Webster?”

I laughed hard, and it felt good. Great rather. Tension seeped out of my pores as if it could manifest physically, drop to the floor, and pool out onto the linoleum. God, it was good to be home.

The girls led me to Gin’s car. “Where’s Dad’s car, Mads?” I shoved my bag in the trunk then sat shotgun.

Maddy got into the backseat of Ginelle’s Honda and twirled a lock of hair. “Um…” She looked out the window, her eyes moving from point to point like she was trying to think of something to say.

My shoulders slumped. “What’s wrong with Dad’s car?”

“Nothing really.” She let out a long breath, kept twirling locks of her blonde hair, and curved her spine into the seat back. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to tell me.

“Tell her, Mads,” Gin pressed.

Maddy huffed and then sat up straight. She closed her eyes and opened them. Determination oozed in powerful bursts of color in those green depths. “The guys that messed up Dad, messed up his car, too.”

Fire swirled in my gut. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” Anger ripped down my spine and landed in my hands where I held them in two tight fists. If anyone came near me now they’d be toast.

“I just…”

“You just what? How are you getting to school?”

“The bus, mostly, and sometimes Ginelle.” Her gaze drifted over to my best friend. Gin smiled briefly. “And also Matt, the guy I was telling you about. He’s given me a ride a few times. Says he’ll help me out any way he can.” Her voice went tight.

“I’ll just bet he would. Mads, that’s not safe. You’re not close to the school, and you’re dead on your feet after all those classes. And what about when you stay late in the library?” I sucked in a giant breath and let it out angrily turning back in my chair. My fucking sister at risk. Doesn’t have the use of Dad’s car because Blaine and his fucking goons wrecked it. What else? What else could possibly happen?

Maddy’s hand landed on my shoulder warmly. “It’s fine, Mia. I’m okay. We make do with what we have, right?”

“Fuck no. We’re getting you a car tomorrow. I can’t believe all this time you haven’t had wheels.”  With a pointed finger I poked Gin in the arm. “And you. You should have told me what was going on.” With a deep sigh, I flicked the layers of hair off my face.

“You can’t afford that, Mia…”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t afford. You have been my responsibility for the last fifteen years. Just because you’re nineteen doesn’t mean I’m going to magically stop taking care of you.” I ground my teeth trying to rein in my control. “Jesus. Just thinking about you walking from the bus stop to home in
our neighborhood
gives me hives, Mads! Don’t do it again. Please, for me.” I gentled my tone. “I’ll get you a car tomorrow. I’ve made some extra cash on the last two clients.”

“Is that right?” Gin gave me a sidelong glance knowing what it took to get the extra payoff. “And how did you do that, sweetness? On your back?” She snickered.

That time I punched her arm…hard.

“Ouch! Bitch! That was totally uncalled for.”

“You calling me a whore, whore? Totally called for.” I narrowed my eyes and stared her down. Even though she was driving I knew she could feel the heat of my gaze.

“Fine. It was called for, but I’m going to make you look at the ugly bruise every chance I get.”

“Whatever. Can you take Mads and me to get her a car tomorrow?”

She nodded. “I took off the days you’re here.”

“Oh, that was sweet of you.”

“I can be sweet.” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“But you implied that I wasn’t usually sweet. I’ll have you know that I was with this guy last night, and he went on and on how about sweet my vag—“ I leaned over and clamped a hand around her mouth.

“Think you can share another time, hooker?” I gestured to Maddy in the back seat with my eyes.

“Oh whatever,” Maddy butted in. “Like I don’t know what she was talking about. You think I’m so innocent.”

I let go of Gin and turned around in a flash. “You mean you’re
not
innocent?” I’d have bet fifty whole dollars that my usually tanned skin went stark white in that moment.

Maddy crossed her arms over her chest then rolled her eyes. “I’m still a virgin. You know I’d tell you. Jeez. But I know what going down on a girl is. I’m not stupid.”

“Has that happened to you?” I held my breath not sure I wanted to know the truth.

She shook her head and bit her lip then looked out the window. “No, but sometimes it pisses me off that you act like I’m a child. I’m an adult, Sis. You need to accept that. And if I want to let a guy go down and kiss my hoo-hah, I totally will.”

“Kiss your hoo-hah?” Gin repeated. “You mean your pus—“ I pinched her leg before she could say something that would piss Maddy off further.

“Not a fuckin’ word.” I growled low for her benefit. Her eyes went wide, and she swatted my hand away.

“Mads, you know I’m here, right? If you want to talk about anything like that.” I reached over the back of the seat, and she grabbed my hand. “Even if I’m not in Vegas, you can always call me. Day or night. Okay?”

She leaned forward and put her forehead on my hand. “I missed you,” she whispered.

I squeezed her fingers back. “I missed you more.”

That got me her patented perfect smile. Man, the Lord smiled on me when he gave me Maddy as my baby sister. I couldn’t have picked a better one out myself.

“So, the convalescent home then?” Gin asked destroying the moment.

“Yeah. I need to see Pops.”

***

The convalescent home sat high on a hill overlooking a long stretch of dessert. It was weird. Like it was built to hold sick people and convalescing folks far away from Vegas proper so as to not taint the glimmer and glamour of the strip.

Unintentionally, my steps slowed as we walked the halls. The walls were painted a soft yellow. Desert mosaic art hung sporadically as we made our way down to the end of the corridor.

Maddy stopped at an open door. “He’s in there. Do you want to go in alone?”

“If you don’t mind?” She simply smiled softly. My sister was an old soul. The way she could read people emotionally had always been a gift. Not one I possessed, that’s for sure. Maybe if I’d had more of her personality type and those kind eyes, I, too, would be able to stay away from men that were no good for me. Probably why she was still a virgin. She could spot a bastard a mile away.

“Come on, Gin, let’s hit the cafeteria and see if Mrs. Hathaway has made any of her famous cookies.”

Ginelle’s eyes lit as if a sparkly diamond had just been presented to her. “We’re out.” She hooked Maddy’s arm, and they strode off on the search for goodies.

I took a deep breath and balled my shaking hands into fists.

I can do this. It’s Dad. Pops.

With measured steps, I entered the room, walked around the curtain that had been pulled for privacy, and found my dad. He looked like he was sleeping though I knew better. Tears blurred my vision as I got closer and took the chair next to his bed.

His hand lay by his side. I picked it up in both of mine, leaned forward and kissed the top of his hand. “Pops...” I said, though I could barely hear my own voice. Clearing my throat, I tried again. “Dad, it’s me, Mia. I’m here,” I whispered. Clutching his hand to my chest, I got as close to him as possible. He looked a million times better than he did when I found him after he’d been worked over by Blaine and his posse two months ago. The bruising around his face was gone. A couple of pencil thin pink lines slashed across his temple and the side of his face. Maybe they’d always be there; maybe they’d fade. Only time would tell.

The rest of him looked good. He’d lost a lot of weight. So much that he didn’t seem like my big cuddly Pops anymore, just a lifeless husk that once held a great man. At least he used to be before Mom left. I choked back the sobs, but the tears came pouring down anyway.

“Why did you have to get in so bad with Blaine? Why?” I rubbed my chin against his hand then leaned my face into his chest and let it all out. My anger at him for getting hurt, for borrowing so much, for gambling, for being a drunkard, and leaving me to be the one to clean it all up. Again. Like always.

“Dad, you’ve really done it this time. The things I’m doing for you…” I let the words fall off, not wanting to admit that I was an escort. Regardless of whether or not I slept with my clients, it still sounded bad. The word
escort
alone held a serious negative connotation.

“I’m doing everything I can. Protecting Maddy. Making sure she’s sticking with college. She’s doing really well. Even met a boy…you might need to wake up to kick his ass.” I stared at his face, hoping, praying he’d open his eyes. Nothing happened.

I grabbed a tissue from his bedside table, then blew and wiped my nose. “I’ve met some really great people over the last couple months. At first, I thought working for Aunt Millie was going to be a nightmare, but you know what, it’s actually been pretty nice. My first client was Weston Channing the third. Yes, the third. I gave him shit about it all the time.” I laughed and thought back to Wes and how we met. How the moment I saw him walk up those stairs on the beach that first day I knew I’d be swept away by his charm.

“Wes taught me how to surf. He also taught me that not all men are created equal.” Chuckling I sat back, rested my feet up on the edge of Dad’s bed and told him about my two favorite guys. How Wes made movies and came from a great family. Promised him if he woke up, I’d take him to see one of Wes’s movies and buy him a big tub of popcorn.

“And then there was Alec. He was a Frenchman, Pops. A real, honest to God, French guy. He called me
Jolie
. It means ‘pretty one’ in French. Gotta admit, I did like that.” I pushed a lock of hair back from my face and leaned my head back to stare at the ceiling. There were beach scenes printed in the tiles above Dad’s bed. I liked that. Made it easier to think that when he woke up, the first thing he’d see was the beach and not a blank white slate.