by Trisha Grace
Enjoy the following excerpt from Mr. Bad Influence:
Chapter One
6:45 a.m. Her stuff wouldn’t get here until seven, and that was fifteen minutes too long.
Kerri glanced at her reflection in the glass in front of her. Even through the reflection, she could see the dark rim under her eyes. She sighed and pressed the red button on the treadmill, one of the two treadmills available in the gym, then trotted along as the speed slowed. She had been on the machine for merely eleven minutes, but she didn’t have the energy.
She would prefer to be in bed, snuggling against her silky soft 1000-thread-count sheets.
She stepped back onto the dark gray carpet and cast a disgusted glance at the flattened fibers, wondering if the carpet was the reason behind the musky smell of the place. Wrinkling her nose, Kerri scanned the relatively small and empty gym. One guy stood in the limited space next to a row of weights, pumping a weight in his hand, while another was doing leg lifts on one of the ten machines available. Both guys were staring at their reflections in the mirror, watching themselves as their muscles bulged and relaxed.
This was the first time she’d set foot in this gym, the first time she had experienced such an exchange.
She’d been concerned when she received the instructions. After all, the gym was a public place where anyone could recognize her. What if someone followed her into the locker room and caught her red-handed? What would she do then?
The alternate option wasn’t viable either. She couldn’t have that stuff delivered to her place. Her neighbors might see something. Someone might start gossiping. And before she knew it, she might be all over the news and magazine covers for the wrong reason.
She dragged her feet toward the locker room. She couldn’t linger in the gym without working out. Those two guys would eventually stop pumping their muscles, and they might just notice Miss America’s Sweetheart, Kerri Adams, loitering around.
She would just spend the next fifteen minutes in the steam room—if there was one.
But when she was about to pass the dull gray lockers with peeling paint and go in search of the steam room, she noticed that the number lock on her locker had been turned the other way. The lock’s dial was now facing the locker instead of her. She glanced over her shoulders and walked around the room to make sure no one else was there before hastening to locker number 23.
She reached for the locker, and her fingers trembled as she adjusted the numbers on the small silver lock, turning them to line up 0023.
Both the locker and the code for the lock had been given in the instructions. She wasn’t sure why it had to be this particular locker, but she didn’t ask questions. People buying such stuff didn’t ask questions.
She gave a tug, and the lock opened.
Kerri froze when she thought she heard someone else in the room. Her hands were on her black gym bag, one on either end of the zip, and she didn’t dare to move or even breathe.
The room returned to silence, and she sighed when she realized the sound was from her dangling lock scraping along the metal locker. She would have laughed, but the desperation to make sure that she had received the stuff was overwhelming.
She unzipped her gym bag in one fast stroke, expecting to see the packets of white powder.
But there weren’t any.
The money she had placed on top was missing, but nothing took its place.
Frowning at her clothes, she pulled out the bag and reached into it. There you are. Underneath her clothes were the small squarish plastic packets, and she was immediately disgusted with herself for having such familiarity with them.
She grabbed her sunglasses, then zipped the bag and left the gym, keeping her head low and trying to be as discreet as possible. She slowed her pace when she realized how fast she was walking. Relax. No one can see what’s in the bag. But she felt as if everyone knew, as if the whole world’s eyes were on her.
Thoughts of appearing on the front page news with the headlines Miss America’s Sweetheart Arrested For Drug Possession After Her Three-Year Hiatus made her cringe.
Her parents would kill her, and how would she face Pastor Jay?
When nearing an elderly couple, Kerri looked down and away while her hand covered her face, pretending to adjust her sunglasses. She exhaled the breath she held only when she got into her rented car.
She tipped her chin toward her chest, allowing her dark brown hair to fall forward so she could hide her face behind the curtain of her hair. She scanned the immediate area and made sure there wasn’t anyone with a camera or even a cell phone in her vicinity. When she was satisfied that no paparazzi were hiding behind the trees or around the corners of buildings, she unzipped her bag and pulled out the plastic packets containing white powder.
She was so sick and tired of sneaking around, of hiding this secret from everyone she knew and loved.
But she couldn’t stop.
Lord, please let this be the last time I do this. She buried the packets under the clothes in her bag, then threw the bag under the passenger seat before starting the car and pulling away from the curb.
She had to hurry. She had to get home, put on some makeup to appear well rested, then head out to church.
Several gasps broke out as Nick walked behind Pastor Jay. Nick had put his cap back on and kept his head low, so he blamed Pastor Jay’s light blue T-shirt, the one underneath his brown jacket, for attracting the attention to them.
Most of the church’s congregation had already left, so Nick wasn’t all that worried about getting mobbed.
He kept his focus on his moving feet and continued walking as if he hadn’t heard anything. He followed Pastor Jay toward the door that led to the back of the building.
Nick exhaled heavily and pulled his cap off when they got to the stairwell. “Isn’t there another way to get downstairs?” He didn’t think having to walk all the way to the front of the church’s auditorium was a good way to stay out of sight.
“Nope.” Pastor Jay took off his jacket, revealing the tattoos on his arms, and threw the jacket over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here. The congregation is used to seeing famous people.” His finger weaved into his short dark brown hair, tugging upwards at the ends. “I like the pomade you recommended. I couldn’t find it anywhere, had to buy it online.”
“I told you to just take mine.”
Pastor Jay shrugged. “I’m not as rich as you are, but I can afford my own pomade.”
Nick shook his head. Pastor Jay had refused to accept anything from him. He even refused to allow him to pay for any of the meals whenever they were out.
“Hey, it isn’t that I don’t want your stuff. It’s just better this way.” Pastor Jay hooked his arm over Nick’s shoulder. “You always have people hanging around you because of your money. I can’t allow that kind of misunderstanding to happen between us.”
“I know you aren’t hankering after my money.”
Pastor Jay put him through too much pain. He was never afraid to confront him when he thought he was getting out of line, and he never shunned from telling him the cold, hard truth whenever he thought Nick needed it.
“I need to maintain the right to knock you on your head whenever necessary,” Pastor Jay said. “Tell you what. You can treat me to a good meal on my birthday. I’ll pick the place, and I’ll let you pay. Deal?”
He grinned. “I’ll think about it.”
Pastor Jay gave his head a light shove. “I may not even invite you to the dinner. You just need to come over and foot the bill.”
Nick laughed.
Once they exited the stairwell, Pastor Jay turned left, and Nick trailed behind Pastor Jay as they strolled down a small walkway with a room at the end of it.
“The VIP room!” Pastor Jay spread his arms wide, presenting the dark wooden door. “You’ll love it,” he said and laughed.
Nick didn’t understand what Pastor Jay was laughing about, but he pushed his black long-sleeved T-shirt above his el
bows, turned the door knob, and stepped into the room anyway.
Right by the door were rows of beige chairs stacked against a white wall, and the warm stuffy air was clear indication that the air-condition system didn’t cover this room. He cast a sardonic glance over his shoulder at Pastor Keith, who grinned back at him.
After taking another step, he stopped and stared at the familiar stranger on a beige chair. Her chair, along with four other empty chairs, was placed in front of three towering stacks of brown cardboard boxes that didn’t look all too stable.
Kerri’s long brown hair, the soft hair he used to run his fingers through, was tied back in a low ponytail, its end resting comfortably over the front of her right shoulder. Next to her was another stack of translucent rectangular plastic boxes. Though they were stacked almost three-quarter way to the ceiling, Nick wasn’t quite as worried about them for they appeared empty.
Nick didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.
Kerri flipped a page of her magazine as she looked up, then her hand stopped mid-air, along with the page she was turning.
They looked at each other, her large brown eyes gazing right at his, neither saying a word.
His leg twitched, and he took a step forward. Something about Kerri’s gaze always pulled him toward her. Three years apart did nothing to change that. “Hi,” he said, unwilling to let the silence drag on.
“Hey,” she said after a moment.
“I thought you left,” Pastor Jay said when he came into the storeroom. “Do you want me to stay and wait for your car to come around?”
Nick was about to answer no when he turned to Pastor Jay and realized the question had been directed toward Kerri. He turned back to Kerri and found that her focus had remained on him. A corner of his lips hooked into a smile, and he cocked his head toward Pastor Jay.
Only then did Kerri turn to Pastor Jay. She uncrossed her legs and closed the magazine on her lap before shaking her head. “No, we’ll be fine. Thanks.”
Pastor Jay nodded and left the storeroom after giving Nick a pat on his shoulder. Nick slotted his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Where’s your mom?”
“Still chatting, I assume.”
“I thought you always went home with her.”
“I moved out.”
“Really?” He didn’t think Kerri would ever do that. He pointed to the chairs next to hers. “May I?”
“Of course.”
Nick sat on the second chair from Kerri, leaving a seat between them. It felt strange to be seated so far from Kerri. Whenever they were together, she had always been next to him or in his arms. He crossed his arms, resisting the urge to reach over. A habit, perhaps. “It’s been a while.”
He hadn’t seen Kerri since their car accident. Her mother had transferred her to another hospital and kept the location under wraps. He’d tried calling Kerri, but her phone was always switched off. And he kept waiting for her to show up, but she didn’t.
Which reminded him—he was still disappointed with her for vanishing from his life without a word, just as his mom did after getting the big fat check from his first bestselling album.
“Welcome to the VIP room,” Kerri said with a small smile.
“And people thought being a star is always glamorous.”
“David will pull the car up outside and come in to get you. I’m sure he’ll come in to say hi before going to get your car.”
He nodded. Pastor Jay already told him about the server in charge of his car.
Silence took over again.
Nick had so much he wanted to ask and say to Kerri, and her gaze said the same, but neither seemed capable of speaking. He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking of. “So, how have you been?” he finally asked.
“Good. I came back from Thailand a couple of months ago, and I just wrapped up a movie.”
He was surprised the magazines were actually accurate. “Thailand? Another mission trip with the church.”
“The last—for now, at least.”
“You’ll have to start your movie promotion soon.”
She nodded. “And you’re coming out with a new album. Pastor Jay told me,” she added when he arched a brow.
It didn’t seem fair that she was able to keep tabs on him when he couldn’t do the same for her. “Yeah.” But he was the one who had messed up so badly. “Kerri, I’m sorry about … what happened. I shouldn’t have driven—”
“We both played a part in the accident.”
“I was the one driving,” he said.
“I was the one who grabbed your car key. You came after me because of that, so I’m sorry as well.”
He looked into her eyes; he missed doing that. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
“I got a rather bad gash on the side of my head.” She lifted her hand to her hair. “And broke a rib. Nothing as bad as what happened to you.”
“Just broke a few more ribs than you did.”
“And fractured your leg and broke your right arm,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry I just dropped out of your life.”
He looked at her, not saying a word.
“Pastor Jay and my parents …” She shook her head. “You were so important to me.” She paused, and her chest rose.
Were. That word stung him. It shouldn’t. He had moved on; they both had.
“I wasn’t sure if I could leave you behind if I were to see you again.”
So that was why Pastor Jay had showed up and told him that Kerri would no longer remain in contact with him. Pastor Jay had convinced him that if he cared about Kerri, he would leave her alone.
Nick loved Kerri, and the last thing he wanted was for things to be over between them. But Pastor Jay had made him see that they had grown toxic to each other. Without cocaine clouding his judgment, he was able to rationalize. His life was messed up, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—drag Kerri down with him.
That moment of lucidity dissipated soon after, and he became furious with Kerri for leaving without a word. He had hoped she would find a way to contact him. Despite telling Pastor Jay that he wouldn’t contact Kerri anymore, he had hoped to see and talk to her again—even if it was for one last time. And when she didn’t reach out to him, his hope turned into a childish stubbornness to get over her and cut her out of his life as completely as she did to him.
“I must’ve disappointed you. I should’ve said something instead of … especially since …”
Especially since you knew what happened with my mom.
Over the past three years, he had thought about this moment. He thought about what he would say and do. He would be cool and nonchalant. He would show her that she meant nothing to him, and he was perfectly fine without her. But now, he wasn’t sure where all his anger had gone, and he didn’t care.
“It’s okay.” He just wanted to make sure she was all right and he hadn’t caused any irreparable damage. “I hope you’re completely healed from your fracture and all.”
“Yeah. I’m absolutely fine. And you?”
He nodded, and they both took a deep breath and looked away from each other—the first time since they started their conversation.
She brushed her hand against her bare arm. “Is your—” “Where’s your—” They started and stopped at the same time, then laughed together.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“Nothing important.” She looked over at the door when she heard the three quick raps. “That’s me.”
“I’ll see you around,” he said, the words spilling out fast and furious. He almost cringed at how pathetic he sounded.
“Yeah.” She grabbed her black leather bag that was on the floor and stood. “Bye, Nick. It’s nice to see you again.”
Nick watched Kerri leave, his eyes following the soft sway of her hips in her skinny jeans. His gaze eased down her legs and smiled at the white canvas shoes. “I love your shoes.”
Kerri looked over her
shoulder and gave him a smile before closing the door behind her.
Three years. He hadn’t seen her for three years, but he could still tell she hadn’t changed her perfume. He could still smell it in the lingering air around him. He stood, tempted to rush over to the car and stop her from leaving. The few minutes spent with her after three years apart were too short.
The two of you aren’t good for each other. He groaned when Pastor Jay’s voice surfaced in his head, and he ran his hand through his hair. He needed a distraction.
Chapter Two
Kerri got into her silver SUV and looked back at the church. She paused for a moment, uncertain with what she was waiting for. Shaking her head, she gazed down at her shoes as she put the car key into the ignition.
Before, she had always insisted on wearing heels despite how they made her feet hurt. She was a celebrity, and image was everything. Nick had always tried to get her to wear something more comfortable, but she never allowed herself to do so.
Nick was a singer, and the spotlights were always on him as well. But he never cared too much about what he wore on normal off-stage days.
She turned to the passenger door when she heard the click of the door opening, and she frowned when the server who had retrieved her car got in and closed the door.
For the first time that day, she paid attention to the server. She stared at the unfamiliar face, at the short, curly black hair that was similar to David’s hair.
“Who are you?” Her eyes flickered toward the left of the server’s black polo shirt that had no print or logo—specifically her church’s logo. “What are you doing? Are you from the church?” How else did he get her car key? “Where’s David?”
David usually parked and retrieved the car for her, but she was so consumed with thoughts of Nick that she hadn’t noticed who led her to her car.
