by KB Winters
Miles smiled and held up his empty glass in a silent toast. “Likewise, Penny.”
My mother dragged me away and when I glanced back, he was gone.
Chapter Three
Miles
“Okay, hold up, I’m getting lost here,” my best friend, Lucas Sprigg said, stopping my rambling.
“Understandable, considering the amount of bullshit there is to wade through,” I replied. “In a nutshell, either I get married by the end of next year and receive my trust in a lump sum or else I will be forfeiting my trust fund as well as my inheritance in the event of my parents’ deaths. Although, at this point, I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen. After all they wouldn’t want to miss out on the joy of tormenting me.”
Lucas sighed over the phone, and I could picture the strained look on his face. We’ve been friends long enough that I didn’t have to be sitting beside him to imagine his reaction. “So what are you going to do?”
I stalked back across my hotel room. I needed to leave for the airport in a few hours, but after a sleepless night, decided to call Lucas to keep me from going crazy while I waited for my ride. “I don’t know yet. I’ve been wrestling with whether or not I should re-up my contract or go ahead and move into the reserves. That’s a big enough debate. I don’t need this added on top of it.”
“I hear you man. With everything going on up here I have the same battle. Granted I have another year left to think about it. What would you do if you got out now?”
“Well, you know I’ve been fixing bikes on the side. I figure with my connections and the work I’ve already done—it wouldn’t be too hard to use that as a springboard into starting my own garage.” It was an idea that I’d been toying with for several months but hadn’t fully made up my mind on whether or not it would be my next move. It was always easier to wait and see how things shook out. “To be honest with you, if I don’t get my promotion that would probably be my sign or whatever you want to call it that it’s my time to go.”
It sounded like a terrible thing to say. The Army had saved my life in more ways than it had risked it over the years. It had given me a drive and purpose that kept my nose clean and out of trouble. Well, at least for the most part. Trouble still managed to catch up to me every now and again, but it was never nearly as bad as it had been in my teen years.
“Sounds like a solid plan to me,” Lucas replied. “I think having your own garage would be awesome and it would give you something super stable to fall back on once you’re ready to retire. Whether that’s now or in another four years.”
I smiled at my friend’s approval. Lucas and my other best friend, Colton “Hawk” Hawkins, were both extremely supportive and although they occasionally bowed down from my dare devil challenges, they never put limitations on what I could do and always had my back, even if I was being a dumbass.
“Maybe so, but if I go that route there is one thing I need first.”
“Loads and loads of cash,” Lucas supplied, seeing the problem as a big picture.
“Bingo. And so we are back to the beginning.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this but I’m going to say it anyways, would getting married really be the end of the world? Sure, it would put a damper on your one-night-Warren reputation, but dude, your heading right into your thirties, and that shtick is kind of wearing thin. Isn’t it?”
I chuckled. “If it is, I’m not aware of it. I’m still having a blast!”
Lucas groaned.
“I’m teasing, man.” I paused to scratch the stubble coming in along my jaw. “Well at least halfway. I know if I get married that doesn’t mean that I can’t still have fun. I mean you and Colton seem to do all right. But it’s not a plan that I have for myself. At least not now. Maybe in four or five years.”
“Four or five years? Damn, Warren.”
I rolled my eyes. “What can I say? I like my freedom. Remember when Colton first started talking marriage. You and I were on the same team. But then you go off and fall in love and suddenly you’re flying around like a big chubby Cupid. Shooting stupid love spells and crush arrows all over the damn place.”
“Chubby! What the hell man?” Lucas replied, his tone gruff and indignant.
I roared with laughter. It was the exact reaction I wanted. Something to break the tension and snap us out of all this marriage and love talk. I might be smack dab in the middle of my last remaining years in the twenty-something crowd, but to me that didn’t mean it was time to put a ring on my finger and start wearing dad jeans.
“I’m kidding, Lucas. You’ve never looked so svelte. Probably from chasing all those kids around.”
Lucas chuckled. “Parenthood certainly has a cardio factor to it.”
“Yeah, that’s what Colton’s been saying too.” Colton and his wife, Karena, had a baby girl who was running them ragged as she geared up for full-blown toddlerhood. It was always fun to hang out with them, but at the same time their life was about as far away from the picture I had for my own future. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever want to start a family. It was hard to imagine that I’d be very good at being a husband or father. And while I wasn’t opposed to taking risks—I wasn’t willing to risk other people’s lives and happiness. If I failed as a husband or father, it wouldn’t only be me that would suffer.
But I didn’t know what choice I had. My parents were not going to back down.
“I guess I could pull a Hawk,” I said, the idea popping into my head like a bright light clicking on.
Lucas chuckled. “Pull a Hawk? What does that even mean? I wasn’t aware that Colton was a verb now.”
I grinned. “You know, post an internet dating profile that says, ‘hey ladies, I need a wife but don’t go getting all attached it’s a temporary deal’.”
Lucas laughed. “I’m not sure that’s exactly what Colton’s ad said but I get where you’re coming from. I can’t deny online dating seems to have worked out rather well for both of us.”
“Yeah, but I’d make sure to not go and fall in love with the girl,” I added. Critical detail.
“Right. Best to stay away from all that love commitment and happiness bullshit,” Lucas fired back sarcastically.
“Yeah, yeah. You know what I mean.”
“I do and yet I already pity the woman who answers your ad.”
“Ha ha. Very funny. Don’t you have a diaper to change or something?”
“All my kids are well past the diaper phase, thank you very much. But I can take a hint.” Lucas laughed. “I wish Isla and I could make it down for Christmas.”
I frowned at the reminder. “Yeah, me too, man. Thanksgiving already feels like it was too far away. Maybe I can fly up there for New Year’s.”
Colton, Karena, Lucas, and Isla and their families, and I had all gathered for our second annual Thanksgiving celebration a few weeks before and while it had been a blast, it served as a reminder of just how much I miss having my two best friends in the same town. Lucas, Colton, and I had been nearly inseparable since we met at Fort Benning years before. Now, Lucas was across the country in Washington State and while Colton was still nearby, with a wife and almost two-year-old daughter, he rarely had much time to go out and get a drink.
The good old days were gone.
“That would be awesome. Once we get the kids sorted, Isla and I can help you set up your online dating profile.”
I dropped my head back and laughed loudly at the thought of the three of us piled around a laptop like a bunch of teenage girls, flipping through photos for just the right selfie. “How can I say no to that? Maybe I can coax Colton and Karena into coming along, make a whole shindig out of it.”
“I’m there!” Lucas said, laughing.
“All right, man. Take it easy.”
“You too, brother.”
Lucas and I hung up the phone and I plopped down on to the overstuffed leather couch that dominated the living room of my hotel suite. The surface was freezing cold from being under the air-condition
ing blast all night. Even though it was the dead of winter, I’d kicked it on during the night, blaming the room temperature for my inability to sleep, and clearly forgot to turn it off upon waking. I sagged against it and drew in a deep breath.
Did I really dare to post some ballsy dating site advertisement? Was I really admitting concession to my parents’ demands? What choice did I have? I wanted to tell them to take a hike, but knew it wouldn’t work out well for me.
I racked my brain to come up with an alternative to my parents’ marry or go broke scheme, but all of the plans that came to mind involved staying in the military for another twenty plus years to get a decent retirement which wasn’t ideal. Although I loved my life as a soldier, I couldn’t say I was prepared to give the US government another two and a half decades. That realization had already become obvious in the months leading up to the gala and ever-so-lovely conversation with my parents. Hence, the idea of opening a bike garage.
But, an idea like that required capital. And a lot of it.
In an effort to retain control of my life, my parents had set up my trust fund on a drip-feed system. Starting on my twenty-first birthday, each month, a deposit was made into my bank account direct from my trust. Even at twenty-eight, I couldn’t go into the bank and pull all the money sitting in the trust. Only my parents could withdraw, move, or deposit into that account.
It annoyed me on principle, but it was a battle I’d given up on a long time ago. It simply wasn’t worth the energy to fight it. And, since I had my Army paychecks in addition to the monthly lump sum from the trust, money was never an issue. So, eventually I learned to ignore it and go about my life. I didn’t spend loads of money and had a decent amount socked away in case of emergency, but it wasn’t enough to open the type of business I’d pictured in my mind. Even if I sold my house and pooled the money from the sale with what’s in my savings, it wouldn’t be enough to get me up and running.
Thanks in part to my upbringing, I had expensive taste and a stubborn unwillingness to compromise. Two things that made it impossible to bootstrap my ideas into reality. Whenever possible—which was almost always—I preferred to use money to buy myself a shortcut. With full access to my trust funds I could buy top-of-the-line equipment, rent or even buy a massive warehouse space to accommodate a full staff, and work with very professional construction crews to ensure that every detail was seen to in the construction of the shop.
It would be glorious, but it would also have a massive price tag.
I wrestled through my options on the flight home to Georgia and by the time I landed, I still didn’t have a clear cut answer. All I knew was that one way or another, there was a timer set on a countdown to the end of my freedom.
Chapter Four
Penny
“Hola, bitches! I’m home from the land of the rich and shallow!” I bellowed as I burst through the front door of the loft I shared with my two best friends, Lo and Jasmine. I turned to thank the concierge that carted my luggage up from the lobby and he scurried off, closing the door behind him. When I turned back around, Lo and Jasmine were both standing in the archway that led into the main living space of the huge condo.
“Did you bring us any presents?” Jasmine asked, her dark brown, almond shaped eyes wide and curious.
Lo clapped her hands and bounced, her strawberry blonde curls flying.
I laughed at the pair of them. “Yes, I’m gonna make it rain Cartier up in here.”
Lo and Jasmine laughed. “Figured,” Lo said. “Come on, we’ve got pizza and pink champagne.”
“Yes, we were more considerate,” Jasmine teased, wrapping me in a quick embrace before leading the way to the large kitchen. Her domain.
I followed after them, a good stream of Pavlovian drool frothing at the mention of pizza. I hadn’t eaten much in New York, mostly due to my mother’s constant comments that I should watch my figure and the reminder that I’d gained weight since my last visit home.
I shoved my mother’s voice out of my head and breathed deeply from the garlic and grease soaked pie as it sprawled across one of those fancy pizza stones. “Jazz, you’ve outdone yourself!”
Jasmine beamed but played off the compliment with a shrug. She was currently enrolled in culinary school and used our kitchen as a place to test out new ideas in her quest to impress her very handsome, and very Italian instructor, Antonio.
And hey, if she wanted to make scones at three am, who was I to argue?
Of course, that only went to back up my mother’s claim that I’d packed on a few pounds since my last visit. I glanced at the pizza and sighed. “Just cut me a half piece, Lo.”
Lo paused, knife poised over the steaming pizza, and eyed me like I’d just broken out of an insane asylum. “Tell me you’re not starting another wacky diet, please.”
I sighed. “I overdid it. You know how it is at those holiday parties. Nothing to do but eat and drink.”
Lo laughed and cut into the pizza. “And knowing you, shamelessly flirt with some poor caterer.”
Damn. They knew me too well. Did I have a caterer fetish? That would be weird. Maybe there’s a support group for that kinda thing.
“No, no caterers or waiters this time...” I sighed and sank down onto one of the six wooden bar stools that lined up along the massive kitchen island as Lo served up the slices.
Jasmine looked at me from her slice of the pie as she raised it to scrutinize the crust and any other pizza details she might need to record. “Too busy listening to Wanda yap at you?”
I laughed. “Mostly.”
Lo raised her eyebrows. “Did you meet someone?”
I stuffed half of my slice of pizza in my mouth to avoid the question. “Ow! Hot! Hot! So, very, very hot!” I fanned my burnt mouth and then gulped at my ice water.
Lo raised her eyebrows and then grinned from ear to ear. “Oh my gosh! She did! You did. Tell us!”
Jasmine laughed at Lo’s excitement as she hopped around the marble topped island that was roughly the size of a Buick. “Did you really? At one of the holiday parties? That doesn’t sound like you. You hate those preppy, trust fund douche nozzles.”
Jasmine and Lo were both from my circle of hell in that we’d been raised as trust fund babies, born and bred to be beauty queens and eventual trophy wives without two original ideas to our credit. At least not until we met and married a successful man who we could latch onto and spend the rest of our lives coming up with ways to make their lives richer and easier.
Puke.
Lo, Jasmine, and I had all met at a charity ball and hit it off from the first hello. About a year ago, we decided to pool our resources, move into a kick ass penthouse style condo, and live out our lives on our own terms. Jasmine started cooking school, Lo became a yoga instructor, and I was working to find a publisher for my book of photographs of Central Park. We all had trust funds and according to our families were squandering our time on hobbies that would never amount to anything significant.
And yet they wondered why we moved away? Sheesh.
Despite the fact that we lived in a glamorous, three thousand square foot penthouse, we were kind of like runaways.
We looked at the socialite world we were drowning in and decided it wasn’t good enough. We wanted more. When we met one another it was like we took a collective sigh. I couldn’t imagine living life without my two dear friends. We supported one another when our families and other friends didn’t. Which, sadly, was ninety-nine percent of the time.
“There was a guy…” I started, after extinguishing the fire in my mouth. “Gawd, Jazz, this is amazing,” I paused to add, pointing at the remains of my slice in my hand. Well worth every burnt taste bud. “But nothing happened…with the guy. He’s a Warren. So that right there should tell you that nothing will happen either.”
“A Warren?” Lo repeated, scrunching her pert little button nose. “Like Jeremiah and Ruby Warren?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it was their son, Miles. He was at the bar and wat
ched me rip some pervy bartender a new asshole and apparently it turned him on.”
Jasmine laughed and tucked a strand of her long raven hair behind her ear. “Really saw you in your element there, huh?”
“Something like that,” I grinned. “Anyways, it apparently didn’t turn him on enough to sneak away with me. Although, to be fair, we had maybe ten minutes together before my mother came to collect me. You know, very important introductions had to be made.”
“Of course,” Jasmine replied, rolling her eyes. “As if there’s ever any new blood at those things.”
“Seriously.”
Lo nodded her agreement too. “So, he didn’t ask for your number or anything?”
I shook my head. “Nope. He didn’t seem to be in the mood but I don’t know…there was just something about him. He was kinda like us, you know?”
Jasmine smiled like the Cheshire cat. “Bitter and jaded against our families?”
I laughed but Lo frowned. “I’m not jaded. Am I?”
I stood up from my seat, setting aside the rest of the pizza slice, and wrapped my non-greasy hand around her shoulder. “No, honey, you’re not. You are sweetness and sunshine.”
She really was. Lo was one of the kindest hearted people I knew and I was shocked that she remained friends with me after each of my rainy parades cycled through.
“Well maybe you’ll see him again,” Lo offered, beaming at my compliment. “Is he here in the city?”
“No. He’s a soldier.” I paused and then added, “I Googled him and he lives down in Georgia.”
“Ooo. Sounds yummy,” Jasmine purred.
“He really was,” I said, sighing wistfully. “I could have gone a little crazy with that one.”
Jasmine laughed. “Well then maybe it’s good it got cut short. One more misstep and I think you’re going to end up back in Connecticut on full time lock down.”
“Ugh. Probably.”
Lo’s brow creased. “Did you and your mom get a chance to talk about…well…about what happened? How it wasn’t your fault?”
