by Casey Hagen
Piper choked on her lemonade and sputtered, searching for a napkin.
“Wow, that was blunt,” Rachel returned.
“Blunt, do you recall the way you scoffed at my offered arm today on the lake? Seems like blunt is about the only language you understand,” Christina said.
“Well, in the spirit of being blunt…” she turned to Piper, “how long have you and Trevor really been dating?”
“We’ve been over this, Rachel.”
“Yes, we have. But I remembered something a little interesting. Trevor had his place completely renovated and then had a housewarming party. Three months ago. And you weren’t there. Kind of interesting.”
That wasn’t in the fucking binder.
Dammit all, she took on the challenge of being his girlfriend and even brought with her a virtually photographic memory. The least he could do was give her what she needed to memorize.
Three months ago, that would have been May. She’s a school teacher. May would be toward the end of the school year, but, but, but…shit she had nothing.
She couldn’t live with herself if she screwed Trevor up by tripping over something so stupid.
“Unfortunately, I missed a few social events at the end of the school year. The district decided to reorganize and we had several required meetings to get things in place.” Piper took another sip of her drink for her suddenly dry throat.
“Hmmm,” Rachel hummed. “You couldn’t spare a couple hours on a Saturday night to support, Trevor?”
Who the hell was she to question Piper’s dedication to Trevor? She had been relegated to one of Trevor’s many conquests, and Piper…Piper what? Piper wasn’t even a conquest. Mail order brides had more clout than Piper.
Wasn’t that just a kick in the ass?
“Teacher’s evenings are rarely their own. I have a career, I’m serious about it, and I was needed elsewhere. Trevor respects that.”
“Trevor has never even mentioned you,” Rachel said with a smirk.
“Why would he mention me to you? You were just a way for him to pass the time and it was a long time ago.”
Rachel stiffened up and her eyes narrowed to slits. “He’s never getting this promotion. He marched around Williams and Stensky for years banging everything with a pulse, everyone from executives to women in the mail room. He’s a vile, loathsome, man whore.”
“It’s hard being forgettable, but when it comes down to it, despite everything you do to call attention to yourself, he sees right through you. Davidson is a smart guy. I have a feeling he sees through you, too.”
“You bi—”
“What’s going on out here, ladies?” Trevor asked, stepping out onto the deck with Mike, Kent, and Davidson not far behind.
“Just a little ‘getting to know you’ session,” Piper said, leaning against the railing. She gave him a flirty grin.
Trevor stepped up and stopped with his feet on either side of hers, leaning in he supported himself by bracing his hands on either side of her, pinning her in. “And?”
“I think Christina, Deanne, and I have the potential for a wonderful friendship. They’re my kind of people.”
He nuzzled her neck and her eyes drifted shut. Tingles coursed through her sensitive skin. “Was Rachel a complete wench?” he whispered.
“She might be onto us. You had a housewarming. I wasn’t there. Apparently, she was.”
“Shit.”
“It’s okay, I covered. I had school meetings for reorganization.”
“Got it.” He pulled away, cupped her jaw, and kissed her.
Nothing flashy, just a soft, lingering kiss that had Piper’s toes curling in her flats.
She wound her arms around his neck and sunk her fingers into the back of his hair, going for more, so much more. She sought his tongue with her own, just an easy glide, only a taste.
She didn’t want to let this go. These moments where it was just the two of them against the world.
Except…she was still just a woman he created in a binder. Monday, she’d slip her three-ring tethers and step out from between the plastic cover and go back to Exclusively Piper with every hair in place and her stilettos firmly planted in the fashion world.
He dragged his lips away from her mouth and down her chin, finally landing on the underside of her jaw.
Was it really just yesterday morning she had stepped out like that? God, it seemed as though from the minute she’d laid eyes on Trevor, she’d been sucked into some alternate universe.
The sand in the hourglass of their time together languished by the second. In the here and now, she could act on the feelings she had carried for so long. She had a narrow window and she needed to focus on using it.
Not on capturing Trevor forever, but of getting her fill so when they parted ways, she might finally have a shot at dating a man without lying in bed in the wee hours, after said date, measuring his every quality against Trevor’s.
He brought his lips back to hers after leaving her a tingling, whimpering mess, and sunk his teeth into her lower lip bringing her right back to the present. Back to him.
“I’m getting quite used to kissing you, Trouble.”
She glanced around, worried that someone might overhear, but they had all drifted back inside and circled the kitchen island where Davidson had put out appetizers. “Is this your way of getting your fill before you let me go?”
“Maybe I won’t let you go.”
She didn’t dare go down that road. She couldn’t. She didn’t want the heartache. She had spent years pining for him and he never even knew. She didn’t want to slide back into being that lovesick girl. “Ahhh, trying to be charming so you can avoid the question. Predictable. But I see right through you.”
“And if I’m serious?”
She pushed him away and grabbed her lemonade, sucking down the half full glass. “You’re not, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Piper—”
“Hey, Trevor. Davidson wants you to fire up the grill,” Mike said from the doorway.
Trevor glanced to Mike, giving Piper a second to take a breath.
A lust fueled breath.
“Sure, I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m going to go see if they need any help,” Piper said.
“I won’t forget where we left off.”
“Of course not,” she said, ducking inside. She’d rather dodge barbs from Rachel where she knew what to expect than Trevor throwing heart wrenching lobs at her that had her wishing for a man she knew for a fact she couldn’t have.
She didn’t need a second dent in her heart.
***
They dined and settled into the living room when Davidson declared it was time for the Newlywed Game.
Trevor had been dreading this from the minute he heard about it. They were going to be asked questions, questions about real events and in this case, there was absolutely no way for them to prepare so they could have the right answers.
This might well be where his hopes of a partnership died for good.
Piper sat in an easy chair, her feet tucked up under her, a glass of wine in her hands, chatting away with Deanne and Kent. He didn’t focus on the words, they didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way she lit up with interest in everything they had to say. She cared about people. She didn’t make conversations about her. She knew how to mingle with just about everyone. Despite Rachel’s jibes, she had even managed small talk with her while they set the table.
She fit.
But did he? And how successful could he be tied down to one woman?
“Okay, folks. I’m going to ask the ladies to head out to the deck for a few minutes while I ask the men their five-point questions.”
Trevor downed what was left of his beer, cracked open another, and took a hefty swallow of that as well.
Mike caught his eye, his head tilted to the side.
Don’t ask, guy. You’ll find out soon enough.
Davidson handed them all a note card and Sharpies.
“Alright, guys, my wife took into consideration that some of you aren’t married so she stuck to questions you could all answer. First question: Where did you go on your first date?”
Trevor took a deep breath. Okay, he could do this. Piper would have to say prom, right? Really, that was their only date so it seemed like it would be the safe answer. Rachel might zero in on it, but it’s not like he or Piper had ever discussed where they first met, so it was okay that they’ve actually known each other for years.
He smiled, sat back in his chair feeling a whole lot better, and jotted down his answer: Piper’s Prom. They had this.
“Next question: What was your first impression of your partner?”
Uh oh.
Okay, his first impression of Piper…she had brains and talent…plus one hell of a smart mouth.
This one might be okay, too. After all, it’s a subjective thing. Nothing too harmful if their answers don’t match.
“Question three: What is your partner’s favorite ice cream?”
Shit.
He should know that. Women loved ice cream. It wasn’t his thing, but wasn’t that their go-to food every time they suffered heartbreak? At least it was according to the movies.
The thought of Piper soothing herself with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s flashed in his head. He frowned.
“Did you write down your answer, Trevor?” Davidson asked.
“Sorry, got lost in thought.”
Okay, women love chocolate so it had to be chocolate ice cream. Sweat broke out on his back. He could not live with himself if his career swirled right down the toilet over chocolate ice cream.
Christ, this sucked.
He wrote his answer and nodded at Davidson to continue.
“Question four: What’s your idea of the perfect weekend?”
Oh God. He might have actually registered the blood draining from his face. The answers no longer had anything to do with him, but more of what he thought Piper would say. He didn’t know shit about what Piper would say.
Why? Because he was a giant asshole who gave her a made-up history, which meant he had no clue if she would continue to manufacture stories or default to real life. Even if she stuck with real life, how the hell would she have any idea of what his perfect weekend was?
Dammit, he didn’t even know anymore. It used to be parties, beautiful women, and booze.
Now, anything involving Piper, even if it was a Saturday night in, curled up on the couch, watching some chick flick sounded better than the partying and loose women.
Ummm, would the real Trevor please stand up?
Whoever that man was. And what was he going to do with himself when this was over? He didn’t fit in his old life, he didn’t have a new life.
And after all the sheer panic, he’d probably have a heart condition and a brand spanking new low sodium diet.
Well, that was good. All those trips to the cardiologist would occupy his time.
Get a grip, asshole.
How nice of Davidson to give them extra time on this one so he could commence the nervous breakdown he so rightfully deserved.
Focus. The perfect weekend…
A getaway in a private inn tucked into the country with a soft, king-sized bed, and no cell phones.
Shit, that might actually work. If it didn’t, the fact that he’d described something romantic would win over the women. They would forget about their disastrous beginning.
Breathe, just fucking breathe, man.
“Okay, men, one more question. Call it a little bonus round.” He scanned the paper. “What did you get your partner for your first Christmas together?”
This would be a big one. Motherfucker, they were going to mangle the shit out of this whole deal with the way they were trying to dial up a history as if this was Wheel of Fortune and they depended upon the luck of the spin.
He looked down at his beer. His second beer. If he hurried maybe he could consume a couple more and feign inebriation.
Except Rachel would call bullshit. She’d seen him pound a fifth of Jack Daniels and then use the side rail of a yacht as a balance beam.
Because for a time, he’d been the king of all show-offs.
“Time’s up!”
Yup, times up. Death awaited him. His career teetered on the edge of the Empire SCartwright Building just waiting for a canary to disturb his balance by breaking wind, sending him plummeting over the edge to his death. What they scraped off of East 34th street could be packed in a Sucrets box.
God, he’d become a dramatic bitch.
He looked down at what he had jotted on the card.
Music box.
Ahh, yes, just call him Trevor “King of Dumbasses” Myers.
She was a fucking dancer. Now that he’d sealed his fate with the hasty scrawl of a Sharpie, he could think of at least three things to get a dancer: ballet tickets, any kind of ballerina jewelry, a dance scene depicted in watercolor or acrylic, ballet slipper Christmas ornament, you know, since it was motherfucking Christmas and all.
Christ, was it hot in here.
Davidson called the ladies back in. Piper dropped into the seat next to him. She smiled.
He tried to smile back, but judging by the odd look she gave him, he resembled a man trying to smile through poop cramps.
“Okay, ladies, we asked the men…” Davidson continued.
Trevor reached for Piper’s hand and wrapped it in his. He focused on the feel of her soft skin against his as Davidson went through all the couples and finally arrived at them.
“Piper, you’re up. Where did you go on your first date?”
She looked at him and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “To the movies?” she said.
“You don’t know for sure?” Rachel asked. The sip of wine she took hid the smirk on her face.
“Well, Trevor, what was your answer?”
None of your goddamned business man. How’s that for an answer?
Knowing he was only delaying the inevitable, he flipped his card. “Piper’s prom.”
Davidson gave him a puzzled look and then glanced between them. A flush rose up on Piper’s cheeks.
“Okay, then,” Davidson said.
Yeah, that about summed it up. He picked the one date that they actually had gone on and there was not a single reason on the planet that Trevor could think of to explain why Piper wouldn’t remember that Trevor took her to her very own PROM!
Did he scream that?
He scanned the room. It looked like he hadn’t, but several people seemed to be onto his bullshit. Kent, Mike, and Steve gave him pitying looks. He hadn’t ever seen that fierce a grin on Rachel’s face before. Christina and Deanne both sat with their mouths slightly open, glancing between Trevor and Piper.
“I guess later on, Piper and I will have a bit of a talk about what qualifies as a date,” Trevor said lamely.
Yeah, we’re imposters.
Next question addressed what they had first thought of their partner. At least that was more of an exploratory question than a your-ass-is-on-the-line question.
Of course, the question also had the capability to stir up trouble, but after screwing the pooch on the first, did it really matter anymore? He couldn’t keep his ass in a boat long enough to finish a race and now this.
Davidson asked Deanne to which she replied, “He thought I was already taken.”
Kent flipped his card: She was a snob.
Uh oh.
Deanne pinched his arm.
“You’re up again, Piper,” Davidson said. “What was Trevor’s first impression of you?”
This time she didn’t look at him. “That I was a smart ass.”
Trevor flipped his card: She had brains, talent, and a smart mouth.
“I’d say that’s close enough. Nice job!” Davidson said.
Trevor chugged what was left of his beer.
Yeah, thanks, Davidson, for throwing me a pity bone. Not that it will get me the job or anything.
He leapt up. “I need another beer.” And headed for the kitchen to grab one.
When he got back, they did the ice cream round. He’d gotten her favorite ice cream right, whoopdie shit. Chocolate wasn’t exactly rocket science.
No longer excited about this last question, or how romantic it made him look, he maintained an every-seven-second draw from his beer.
“And Piper, what is Trevor’s idea of the perfect weekend?”
“A weekend getaway with a big bed?”
Well, she kind of got it, but did it really matter at this point?
Nope.
He downed the last of his beer and flipped his card. “Country Inn, king-sized bed, no cell phones.”
Davidson gave him a narrow-eyed stare.
Trevor figured Davidson didn’t like his tone.
“I need to grab some air. If you’ll excuse me,” Trevor said and headed for the front door.
Chapter 8
Piper gave Trevor a few minutes to cool off. She contemplated trying to smooth over the events of the game, but considering the looks shot her way, especially from Rachel, she opted to keep her mouth shut.
She thought she could explain the prom thing. She could say they weren’t an item then, so she didn’t really consider it their first date. A weak attempt at best, and maybe they would let it slide, unless Rachel decided to ask a bunch of questions that Piper was unprepared to answer.
Everyone milled about the kitchen, cleaning up what was left of their drinks. Mike and Christina whispered to one another and then said goodnight to the group. Deanne followed Kent onto the deck with a lame attempt at a smile. Rachel swirled her wine in her hand and leveled a shrewd stare at Piper.
No one addressed Piper directly, whether that was because they had suspicions, or because of Trevor’s awkward exit, she had no idea.
“I’m going to go find Trevor,” Piper said.
She headed out the front door and scanned the immediate area. The moon illuminated the night with a white glow, and what the moon couldn’t do, the intricate placement of the outdoor lighting managed to. She checked the wide front porch in case he decided to sit in dark silence, but saw no sign of him.
She didn’t know if the game had really done damage, and even if it did, it was too late to do anything about it now. At least, if nothing else, they could breathe a sigh of relief that it was over.
