Slut (8 page)

“She’s going to yark, isn’t she?” I sighed.

“Probably. And she must’ve had a hard day to drink whiskey. She knows better.”

“I can hear you talkin’ about me—” she mumbled something “—
pendejo
.”

“Yeah, I guess she did,” I agreed.

“What did Gavin do?”

I didn’t answer him until after we put Rosa to bed and were back out in the living room. “He slept with me.”

“I take it there wasn’t much actual sleeping?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “She wanted me to.”

“To prove what?”

“That he’d pick her over strange pussy, I guess.” I bit my lip.

“Women are insane. I wish I liked cock more. Men, I understand.” He shook his head.

“Women and men aren’t all that different. I think that’s a lie they put in magazines and self-help books.”

“Then what’s the truth?”

“That a lot of us are fucked up. It’s not a man issue or a woman issue. It’s a pyramid of needs issue.”

He cringed. “That sounds like bubbling crock of psychobabble shite.”

“Just because it came out of the crock doesn’t make it any less true. Therapy helps a lot of people.”

“But not you?” He cocked his head to the side.

“No, I guess not me. I can speak the language. I’ve done the work. But I’m still a hot mess. Maybe even a bubbling crock of shite.” I adopted his terminology.

“So why did you do it? Sleep with him, I mean?”

“Because it felt good and I wanted to.”

“Here’s to that.” He grabbed Rosa’s tumbler and finished what was left.

“So what are you going to say to Claire?”

“You go for the throat just like she does, you know?” He leaned back on the couch and then forward again, almost like he settled in for a long tale. “I’m going to tell her I miss her. That I love her. That I want her to be happy. I’m going to hug Brant and thank him for sharing his woman with me, for letting us figure things out. For being the man she needs. And I’m going to hope like hell I can be their friend and I’m not going to regret anything that happened because I’m sure she’s right where she’s supposed to be.”

His words twisted my heart up like a rag and squeezed out all my feelings like dirty dishwater. “I guess I don’t have to stab your face after all.”

“I’ll let her stab my face if she wants to. I know I earned it. I know I was a bastard, asshole… whatever name you want to call me. I’ll still be that when it’s all said and done, but if Claire would just be my friend again, I could be right with it all.”

“Did you grow a conscience or something?” I realized how shitty that sounded. “I mean—”

“No, it’s okay. Something that Karlie told me last night really resonated with me.”

“Karlie’s a great sage?”

“In her own way.” Kieran smiled, flashing white, perfect teeth. “For as naïve as she is, she’s got some knowledge.”

“I bet she does now.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. “I like her as a person.”

“Did you give Fain his dance?”

“The big guy with the tattoo you were talking about? Yeah, he got his dance and then some.”

“Oh really?”

“You should call your boy-o. Ryan’s his name, innit?”

My eyes goggled. “I’m surprised he hasn’t called me.”

“Maybe his mouth is still full.”

If this kept up, my eyes were going to pop right out of my head and roll away. “At least last night worked out for someone.”

“It worked out for Karlie, too. I can promise you that.”

“Good. You know how you said you like her? Me too.”

“Does she remind you of yourself or something?” He laughed and held up his hands. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. There’s just an innocence about her that you seem to want to protect even though you bought her a… what was it Rosa called me, manwhore?”

“If a professional pops her cherry, it was guaranteed to be good. No awkward, sticky fumblings in the backseat of a Prius. And she’s not going to expect you to call her back.”

“Actually, she hired me for another job. I have to pick her up after I leave here.”

“Dare I ask what kind of job?”

“Sex. What else?”

“Who knew?” I grinned, strangely proud of her.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Who knew?”

There was something sad about the way he said it, but before I had a chance to poke it with a stick, he stood.

“Since Claire isn’t here, I’m going to go. You might want to put a trash can or something by the bed for Rosa. And never give her whiskey again.”

“Lesson learned.”

“Tell Claire I was here for her?”

I nodded and closed the door behind him, surprised that I didn’t think about taking him back to my room. I wouldn’t have, of course. That would’ve really hurt Claire. It was different with Rosa and Gavin. Rosa had practically demanded I do it.

But the part that stuck in my brain, that burned there was that I didn’t feel like I had to offer it because he was nice to me. I didn’t feel like I needed his approval or his validation.

I kind of liked it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I didn’t see Claire for the whole week. I imagined she was spending all of her time with Brant.

If I had a guy like that, I probably would too. Theirs was the stuffs that real life fairy tales were made out of. It almost hurt to watch.

Not because I didn’t want all good things for my friend. Of course I did. I wanted Claire to be happy, to be joyously and stupidly happy. She deserved it. But it was a double-edged sword because I wanted my own Brant. Someone who loved me so wholly, that maybe I could love myself too.

I was pretty sure that wasn’t how it worked. I’d have to love me first and with all the stuff in my head, in my life, that wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t really believe that kind of love was for me.

It was easier when I didn’t believe it was real. I’d seen it, though. I’d seen it begin as a tiny seed and I watched as it blossomed and bloomed into something too big to be contained by anything other than a human heart.

Rosa texted me a few times and I heard nothing from Gavin or Thornton.

Which was both a relief and an irritation.

On the other hand, my father texted me enough for everyone. Every day, it was some other little thing I needed to do to get ready for his party. He wanted me to check on the caterer. He wanted me to drive out to the house to let the decorator in. He wanted me to remember to pack casual—his version, not mine.

When I told him that I was bringing Rosa, he said to make sure any friends that I brought had the appropriate attire and if she didn’t to buy it for her.

Which would go over with Rosa like… like nothing. She’d feel like I was looking down on her. Or my father was, but he looked down on everyone. Me included.

I hacked the Chubbalicious website—Claire’s company, to get to Rosa’s wishlist. My father had invested enough to move Claire’s production from her room to a warehouse in the city to keep up with orders. But it was Claire who’d given me access to the site.

I figured if I just bought everything on her wish list, it would help Claire, buy Rosa something she wanted, and keep my father happy. Problems solved. I really liked that whole throwing money at things solution.

People were fond of saying that money couldn’t buy happiness, but it could buy a lot of options until you could find your happiness. I’d rather cry in a Mercedes with heated seats than an El Camino with no roof.

When Rosa showed up on Friday afternoon, I handed her a dress bag and a pre-packed suitcase.

“What’s this?”

“Don’t ask. A gift from my father. I told him I was bringing you and he said to make sure you were dressed appropriately.”

She arched a perfectly plucked brow. “Oh really? Like what I have isn’t good enough?”

“What
I
have isn’t good enough. It’s not just you. Don’t be offended.”

“I ought to do bad things to your father to show him just how good slumming can be.” Then she pinched her lips closed. “Shit. I didn’t… that was inappropriate. I’m sorry.”

The look of horror on her face tickled me for some reason. “Rosa, whatever happens, I guess we’re close now. I slept with your boyfriend. You’re going to…” I trailed off and wrinkled my nose. “Whatever. I’m just not going to call you mom.”

She laughed and hugged me. “I really love you, Bex.”

I froze. Claire hugged me a lot, but she wasn’t super expressive about our friendship, at least not verbally. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with this. So I hugged her back.

I realized I loved her too. She was my friend. She was loyal. She was steadfast. She cared about me. Not because of what she thought I could do for her or give her, she just liked me as a person.

“I love you, too.”

And it was okay that I loved her. It was okay that I loved Ryan. It was okay that I loved Claire. These people meant something to me.

Now, I felt extra shitty for sleeping with Gavin. I shouldn’t have. The fact that he tried to put the moves on me was enough to report back. I didn’t actually have to go through with it, but I did because I’m a horrible, selfish, needy bitch with daddy issues.

I sighed. At least I knew myself. I saw who I was.

Maybe, if I didn’t like it, I could change it.

Thornton’s words about who I was and who I wanted to be echoed back at me.

While I hugged her, I swallowed hard, pushing back the discomfort of apology and owning my actions. “I’m sorry I fucked Gavin.”

She laughed and pulled away, searching my face. “Why? Was he bad?”

I scrubbed my hand over my face. “No, I was. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t need to take it all the way. He wanted to. That’s all you needed to know. I didn’t need to drive the knife home.”

“Yes, you did. I asked you to. I mean, not that you should screw a guy just because I said so because that would be weird. But you know what I mean. I needed to know it and I don’t think it would have stuck in my head if you hadn’t. I might have kept making excuses for him or rationalizing.”

“I still feel horribly guilty.”

“You don’t have to. I won’t hold it against you. Especially since you put up with me after the Fireball. I’m so embarrassed.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Did you tell Claire that Kieran was here? That I slobbered on him?”

“No, and no. He asked me to tell her he stopped by, but I won’t tell her about the slobbering. Number one, it affects nothing. Tons of women slobber on him and two—”

She shook her head. “I’m awful. I’m probably as bad as April. I’ve always wondered what it would be like with Kieran. I’m just not ballsy enough to tell him. And even after all this with Claire…” she shrugged. “I kind of still want to.”

“You can do so much better than Gavin or Kieran. I was just thinking that night when we went to Karlie’s birthday party that you’re so confident and strong. I wished I was more like you.”

“Me?” She shook her head. “I adopted Claire’s standard operating procedure. But it was wild to realize that she didn’t even feel that way about herself. I never would’ve guessed. Although it’s been really something watching her come in to it.”

“Claire is kind of my hero.”

“Me too.”

“We can start a fan club. Be her drooling fangirls.”

“And we’ll make Kieran a perk of membership.” I laughed, but it hit me that maybe, somewhere, someone had said that about me. My first instinct was to think that maybe it was his own fault for putting himself out there like that, but wasn’t that exactly what I did myself?

I didn’t have time for all this self-deconstruction. I had to get to the lake house before my father’s head exploded or he cut off my credit. The latter worse than the former.

“We better get moving. I have to be there early.”

“So really, you think I could meet someone at this party?” She pursed her lips. “I lust after Kieran, but what I really want is a Brant.”

“Don’t we all?” I sighed. “But yeah, I’m sure. I’ll introduce you around.”

“I was just kidding about your father, you know.”

“Hey, that’s your business.”

How would I feel if Rosa had been serious? I realized I didn’t care. I wanted her to be happy. I got no real attention from the man already. She couldn’t take away what I didn’t have. I wasn’t a daddy’s girl. I used to wish I was, but nothing I ever did would be good enough for him. Nothing I ever could mold myself into would fit his parameters and mark me worthy of his time and affection.

I hated that the thought could still prick the back of my eyes and make me feel like I’d been punched in the face.

I wouldn’t cry. I didn’t have time to deal with it.

We loaded our stuff into the trunk and I headed out to the highway. We cranked the radio and sang along, unleashing the pent up tension from and emotion from earlier conversation.

I tried to ignore all the place my head tried to go and concentrate on the music and the road ahead of me.

We came to the turn off for the lake all too soon.

As soon as our house came into view, I saw my father was already there. Shit, he was going to be pissed. Although, he should’ve expected that I had classes until two. I skipped them, but he didn’t need to know that.

He opened my car door when I pulled through the circle drive and rolled to a stop. “Good of you to make it.”

“I had class.”

He raised a brow. “And your friend?”

Rosa opened her door and walked behind the car to introduce herself. “I’m Rosa.”

“Do you have a last name, Rosa?” I could smell the snob coming off of him.

“Do you have a first name? Or should I just call you Daddy?” She tossed the look of disdain right back at him.

Instead of irritating him, he laughed. “Why yes, I do. Sutter Foxworth.”

She took his hand and shook it, obviously a firm and forward grip. “Rosa Reyes.”

“Has Rebecca brought you to the lake house before?”

“No, this is the first time.”

“Then you’re in for a treat. How about a tour?” My father looked at me. “You have everything in order? The caterer is in the kitchen. I’ll send Reggie out for your bags.”

Rosa grinned at me.

“You two kids have fun.” It would twist Miranda’s tit when she found out he’d wandered off alone with one of his daughter’s friends and I couldn’t help but take a certain glee in that. Miranda was beautiful, but she was a bitch. And if she had her way, she’d marry my dad and cut me off. I couldn’t have my trust until I was thirty. So I was dependent on my daddy for everything.

My father cast me a dubious look, but I smiled and waved.

Once in the kitchen, I was relieved to see everything was coming together. No fires to put out, everyone was doing their job—we were all little cogs in my father’s machine.

As the guests started to arrive, I played the part of hostess. Smiling, nodding, and commenting on new pearls, or whatever tidbit of information I could remember about them.

Thornton arrived with his family and had another gift in tow. It was a small, blue box from Tiffany’s.

He handed it to me, but rather than seeing the self-assured smooth operator, there was a kind of pleading in his expression. I understood. His parents approved of us as a couple. If I declined his gift, he’d get no end of shit.

I kind of wished he’d brought roses again. I wanted him to give me that purple rose and this time, I might put it in my hair without stuffing the rest of them down the garbage disposal. Just to see how it felt.

After accepting the box with a practiced smile, I opened it. It was a lovely diamond and sapphire bangle in white gold. It was thin, delicate, and I loved it. It was something I’d have chosen for myself.

I pursed my lips, trying to keep from spewing all of this newfound emotion all over him.

“I told him he should’ve gotten the diamonds,” his mother, Elaine, hissed quietly.

“I love it. It’s so beautiful.” My hands were shaking.

“Allow me?” Thornton asked and pulled the bangle from its nest.

I nodded and he took my hand to slide the bangle over my hand up on to my wrist. It sparkled and glittered in the soft light from the paper lanterns.

I kissed his cheek, the touch of my lips to his skin causing all manner of uproar in my stomach. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he whispered in my ear.

“Are you sure?” Elaine still looked displeased.

“Very sure. It’s perfect.”

Her face melted back into a mask of a smile. “Good.”

His father nodded. “Is Sutter around?”

I smiled. “I do believe he’s giving a tour at the moment. When I see him, I’ll tell him you’re here.”

“I hope we have some time to talk this weekend, Rebecca. If my son can spare you.” Elaine nodded to Thornton.

“Can I steal you away from your duties?” Thornton offered me his arm and I took it.

I wanted to go and I knew my father would frown if I didn’t.

We wandered toward the boathouse and when we went inside, I decided to show him the loft. It was rather pretty.

“Hey, look up there.” I pointed. “Want to go up? We can watch some of the boats go by.”

“Sure.”

I climbed up the ladder, with him discreetly behind me. High enough to catch me if I fell, but not so low he could see up my dress. Not that I cared if he could or not. He’d already had that tour.

I’d spent hours playing in the loft of the boathouse when I was a kid. It even had a cute little deck. I think at one point, a caretaker might have lived up here. There was a little bathroom and kitchenette. I pulled one of the blankets off the shelf and spread it out on the plank wood floor.

We sat down in a companionable silence.

Dusk had started to fall and the lights around the lake were soft and sparkly, much like the bracelet on my wrist. I think that’s why I liked it so much. Fireflies winked and danced, and I thought it was the perfect summer evening.

“Thanks for earlier. If you really don’t like it—”

“No, I meant what I said. I love it.” I smiled. “It reminds me of here. Of when I was little and things were good. The lights on the lake…”