“Holy shit. Is this Jessica? Wow. I had no idea she was so hot under all that cotton. Duncan is one lucky bastard. Look at those tits.” Dylan held up the page that featured Jamie wearing a turquoise demi-bra and matching panties. The matching satin robe was draped across her shoulders but the mouth-watering cleavage was a tempting shadow between the snowy white globes of her breasts. The sight would draw the eye of any man with a pulse.
Kevin had to fight not to snatch the offending page out of his brother’s pervy hands and beat him with it.
He glared at Dylan. “You idiot. That’s not Jessica. Why would I have pictures of Duncan’s wife on display in my room? What kind of douche-bag do you think I am exactly?”
Dylan shrugged. “Sorry man, but any dude over the age of fifteen with a pin-up collection has issues.” He turned around and made the classic jerking off action with the fingers and thumb of one hand. “But with tits like that who can blame you? I’d be whacking off like a mad-man too if I had to be around her all the time.”
Kevin dragged both hands down his face in exasperation. “Seriously? You think I’m into Jessica? And that I’m sitting here flogging my hog to her image? You are one sick fuck.”
Dylan set down the page and wiped both his hands on his jeans. “I’m the sick one? Hardly. Who’s the guy with the creepy shrine in his hotel room? But if you have a thing for Jessica that would certainly explain your fucked up behavior. I’d be avoiding the world too if I was secretly jonesing for my best friend’s girl. It’s like that Rick Springfield song.” He hummed a few bars of Jessie’s Girl and even played a bit of passable air guitar much to Kevin’s annoyance.
Standing, Kevin approached his gyrating brother, gave him a sharp cuff on the back of the neck and gathered up the pages, stuffing them protectively in the top drawer of the mostly empty dresser. “For the last time, I’m not ‘jonesing’ for Jessica. That’s her twin sister, Jamie.”
Dylan’s blue eyes went wide. “Holy shit. They’re twins. Oh man. It’s like a Penthouse letter. Jessica mentioned her when they came out to visit last Christmas but I had no idea they were identical. Man, there are some amazing genes in that family.” He shook his head in wonder and smiled knowingly. “So you’re stalking the sinner not the saint? Good choice. Way easier to corrupt and conquer.”
Kevin saw red. On some level he knew that Dylan was making a reasonable assumption. Jamie had been an exotic dancer and as such was considered fairly easy prey for men like them. He was ashamed to admit that he and his brothers had discussed women in the sex trade in just this derogatory manner on several occasions. It was their nature to analyze and pretend they had women all figured out. But just the thought of anyone assuming Jamie was in anyway available due to her past enraged him. She was no man’s plaything. Not even his.
Before he knew it, he had Dylan’s back against the wall and his arm pressed against his little brother’s throat. “She’s not a stripper anymore,” he growled. “She’s a lingerie designer and business owner. And a writer. And I strongly suggest you remember that before you start talking out your ass about her.”
Dylan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Oh yeah,” he said with a sarcastic smirk. “I can see by her photo spread that she’s a class act. All the real ladies flash their beavers like that.”
Kevin was just about to haul off and seriously do some damage to Dylan’s pretty face when he noticed the teasing glint in his brother’s eyes. He pulled back enough to stare at him. “Beaver? Did you actually just say ‘beaver’?”
Dylan edged out from under Kevin’s arm and straightened the collar of his shirt. “Yup. I dropped the ‘B-Bomb.’ Just wanted to see how far you would go to defend your lady’s honor. Now, drop the macho bullshit and explain to Dr. D what’s going on with you.”
Kevin grabbed a T-shirt from the end of the bed and sunk down on the chair he’d been sitting on earlier. Pulling the old concert shirt on made him feel better, less exposed somehow and he was able to relax a little. He scrubbed at the stubble on his chin and gave Dylan a doubtful look. “Dr. D? Since when do you have your PhD. Wasn’t aware they give those out for bullshit.”
“If they did, you’d definitely have one of your own. Now, seriously, what’s your problem? You mumbled something about research earlier. Please don’t tell me she’s one of your mutant psychos. Because that would be a major waste of some truly spectacular tits.”
“One more crack about her tits and I’m going to break your lucky stick. I mean it. Kiss Petunia good-bye.” Kevin grumbled, referring to Dylan’s prized possession - A hockey stick signed by his brother’s personal hero, Wayne Gretzky and given to Dylan by their father on his 13th birthday.
Dylan had the grace to look pale. “Nice try, Dick. But she’s locked up. No one gets their paws on Petunia. You know that.”
“Man, you care more about that stick than any woman you’ve ever been with. And then you have the nerve to call me pathetic?”
“Hey, I’m not the one with the shrine.” Dylan muttered, falling down on the couch with a long suffering sigh. “I just have one tasteful wallet-sized snapshot of Petunia. And we’ve been together for 16 years. How long have you and Miss Tits been together? A day? Two days?”
Kevin leaned forward and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, that’s kind of the problem. We’re not together. She’s not interested. Says I’m not relationship material.”
“So then?” Dylan shrugged. “Forget about her. There’s about a million other hot chicks out there who’d be thrilled to have a taste of Hall Magic.” He held out his hands in front of his chest as if cradling two giant melons. “Granted, they won’t have her two rather outstanding attributes, but in the dark, who really cares, right?” He dropped his imaginary visual aids, leaned over and gave Kevin an encouraging punch in the thigh.
Kevin shook his head. “Dude. You don’t understand. I don’t want anyone else. I mean, not at all. Kerry was here the other night and I couldn’t. I mean, I had zero interest.”
A look of horror passed over Dylan’s face. “Shit. You mean your cone went soft serve? Damn. That’s rough. No wonder you fell off the radar. I’d be in mourning too.”
Kevin rubbed his forehead. “That’s not what I meant. Nothing went soft or anything. I mean, even with Kerry lying in that bed.” He jabbed one finger towards the oversized piece of furniture. “Looking gorgeous and wearing nothing but a towel and a smile, I had no desire to sleep with her. Even though I was horny as hell and pissed off at Jamie. She’s still the only one I wanted in my bed. Am I sick, or what?”
“Kerry? Well, maybe that’s the problem. That broad is crazy and mean besides. Even my dick would have trouble warming up to her. Maybe you just need someone a little less likely to cut off your junk in the night. You know, someone human.”
“Or maybe I’m just losing my mind. That seems to be the consensus lately.”
“Yeah. But you’ve always had a screw loose. What’s different now?”
“I have no idea. Everything is going in the crapper. And I don’t know how to fix it. Nothing works.”
“Well. Start with the easy shit. Which means forget about the girl and focus on the stuff you can actually control. Like work. Duncan said you aren’t writing? I thought you could write about any sick fuck. Now you’re being a regular pussy where this Rawlings turd is concerned. What’s with that?”
“I don’t know. Rawlings is different. Worse, I guess. He’s spooking me.”
“Bullshit. You’re Kevin Hall. You make monsters hide under their beds, right?”
“Not this time. He’s gotten into my head. I can’t seem to keep him out.”
“Oh jeez. Spare me. He’s psyched you out? A pig farmer? That is fucked up.”
“You haven’t met the guy. I’m telling you, he’s eerie.”
“Kevin. Seriously. He’s nothing. What’s happening here is that you’ve reached your psycho saturation point and have no way to flush the bad shit out. You’ve spent the last several years pl
ugging your head up with other people’s nightmares, eventually you’re going to get clogged up and need to do a mental colonic. It’s like a dude that eats tacos every night. He may love ‘em but eventually all that junk is going to get toxic. Rawlings is a bad taco. Seriously. Flush him out.”
Kevin couldn’t help smiling at the metaphor. His brother had a real talent for simplifying a complex issue. “You think it’s that simple. Just forget about my contract? The thing I’ve been doing for years? What I’m good at?”
Dylan shrugged. “Why not? You’ve got enough cash to take a break for a while. Take some time off. Get your shit together. You think the world needs another serial killer story? It’s full of them. And that fuck-wad Rawlings doesn’t exactly deserve the publicity, does he?”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Yeah. It is. But it’s not impossible to do either. If you talk to your agent I’m sure he can get you out of it.”
Kevin scoffed. “What do you know about it?”
“Hey. I almost dumped my career a few years ago. Or don’t you remember? But unlike you I was smart enough to take the time when I needed it. I love hockey, but it’s not worth imploding over either. And neither is a stupid book about a violent asshole with Silence of the Lambs delusions. So get out while you can, man.”
“And do what exactly?”
“Write about something else. Something light that doesn’t fuck with your head. Would that be so difficult for a change? Or does everything have to be about death and mayhem?”
Kevin looked at Dylan for a long moment and then turned his gaze to the bureau where Jamie’s articles were squirrelled away. Was it possible his ignorant little brother had a point?
Chapter Fourteen
Jamie looked up from her cash register and felt real hope for the very first time since Hidden Treasures had opened. It was a giddy feeling and she had to work to keep from beaming like an idiot at the steady stream of customers lined up to purchase her designs.
It was two weeks since the first Love Law had appeared in The Vancouver Star and the publicity had worked miracles, just as they’d planned. Not only was the print edition generating a lot of buzz, the newspaper’s website was positively flooded with on-line responses. Some negativity, of course, given the subject matter. But overall the women of Vancouver were embracing The Love Laws and, more importantly, Hidden Treasures.
Jamie’s store was suddenly so busy that she’d actually been forced to hire another sales associate. Theresa, Duncan’s half-sister, had been thrilled to help out.
The bubbly blonde was a drama major at UBC now, but two years ago she’d been a runaway who’d been desperate to escape her controlling grandmother. She had very nearly found herself in some very real trouble until Duncan had been recruited to find his missing half-sister.
At one point, before Duncan found her, Theresa had danced illegally with Jamie at the Kitty-Kat for a few memorable nights. Since then the two women had bonded over their love of costumes and music, so she was a natural choice when Jamie thought about hiring help. She knew her young friend was looking for some real work experience despite the huge trust fund she’d acquired at the age of eighteen. Fortunately for everyone, being an heiress hadn’t spoiled Theresa. At least not completely. Jamie was delighted to find that her sister-in-law was actually a hard worker and the customers loved her.
Currently, Theresa was giving her an enthusiastic thumbs-up sign as she walked to the front door. Smiling, the petite girl escorted a pair of cougarlicious customers outside with a friendly wave and then locked it behind them. It was a half hour after Hidden Treasures’ usual closing time and Jamie grinned as she watched Theresa lean back against the door in exhaustion as she turned the ‘Closed’ sign to face outward.
Jamie and Theresa had been on their feet for ten hours and there hadn’t been time for a single breather between eager customers. Jamie had insisted several times that Theresa needed to take her lunch break but the younger woman hadn’t wanted to leave her alone with ‘the teaming hordes.’ If Clay hadn’t brought them cupcakes and cappuccinos during the day they would have been both exhausted and ravenous. As it was, Jamie couldn’t wait to kick off her gorgeous red pumps and sit down. She couldn’t remember ever being this tired, or elated. Her store was finally a success. If only temporarily.
Jamie knew that eventually she would run out of Love Laws or the public would lose interest in what she had to say. Or someone would figure out that she had no idea what she was talking about and she’d get the boot. Cathy’s Editor, Jeff Allen, was already tired of defending Jamie’s statements and responding to irate readers who felt her column was offensively chauvinistic and simplistic.
Before the first article was printed the two women had met with Cathy’s boss to discuss their ideas and get some general direction from the more experienced journalist. Jeff had worked on several high profile papers and had advanced to the level of Editor by the relatively young age of thirty-five. He was also considered a playboy in his own right. So he did have some expertise in their subject matter. Both women were anxious to impress him and also get some male perspective on The Love Laws.
After meeting Cathy’s very attractive boss Jamie had been pleased to find that Jeff was a huge supporter of Cathy’s idea. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as thrilled with Jamie’s contribution to the project. He tactfully tried to encourage Cathy to take a more prominent role but she stubbornly refused to relinquish her second-banana status. She insisted that Jamie was to be the face of the article and she would write a first-person or first-guinea pig account of trying out Jamie’s theories as a sidebar only. Jeff had relented but Jamie was fairly certain that his decision had more to do with his personal interest in Cathy rather than her powers of persuasion. He liked her and was willing to take a risk to please her.
As it turned out Jeff was correct in following his instincts. Cathy’s accounts of the makeover and the experiments used to demonstrate the Love Laws, like the speed dating session, pole dancing class, and the trip to the adult toy store were incredibly popular. The fact that Cathy had written about these experiences with self-deprecating humour and some rather touching personal insight had not been lost on him.
Jamie and Cathy had met with Jeff again early this morning to discuss the progress of the articles. During their brief discussion it was clear to Jamie that the handsome editor was impressed with Cathy’s contribution but not The Love Laws themselves. At one point he had actually said that The Love Laws were a great hook but it was Cathy’s struggles that made the articles work.
Cathy had been bewildered and not a little angry as they’d left her boss’ tiny office this morning. She’d thought Jeff was out of line. To her it was obvious that Jamie’s contribution to the articles were the main attraction. Her own bumbling attempts to make herself more available to men were just stunts.
Cathy had wanted to go back to Jeff’s office and tell him so but Jamie had stopped her and reassured her friend that she wasn’t even slightly offended. She wasn’t a writer or an expert and Jeff was correct in his assessment. She wanted Cathy to be successful and this was proof that their plan was working. Cathy had impressed her boss and that was all that mattered to her. And the publicity for Hidden Treasures, of course.
Given Jeff’s less than enthusiastic response to The Love Laws Jamie realized that she had a very thin window of opportunity to make the most of the attention generated by the articles. If she squandered it she would be right back to where she was before Clay and Cathy made their Love Guru proposal. If she was lucky, she would be the city’s resident sexpert for a few more weeks at best.
Jamie spent the next twenty minutes ringing up purchases and chatting easily with enthusiastic customers. She hadn’t totalled the day’s receipts yet, but she was fairly certain she’d quadrupled last month’s sales today alone. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to save the store unless the profits continued at this rate for the next several months. Somehow she needed to keep the momentum going a
nd also find time to restock her displays and create a new line to keep her inventory fresh. It seemed like a monumental task but she was willing to do anything now that she was finally on the brink of success. Even if it meant selling her childhood home and sacrificing her personal life.
An image of Kevin, shirtless and sweaty, sprawled across the back seat of his Mustang came to mind but Jamie firmly shoved it back into her sexual fantasy vault where it belonged. She hadn’t heard from him since she’d scurried away from him in that empty White Rock parking lot. So it would seem her grand plan to get rid of him was a success. He had gotten what he wanted and had lost interest, just as she’d predicted.
She should be thrilled. She could now concentrate on business just as she’d planned all along. But instead she was disappointed and more than a little hurt. She’d really wanted to be wrong about him. For the first few days after their backseat adventure she’d looked up every single time the door to Hidden Treasures had opened, half-expecting his bruised but smiling face to greet her. But it was never him. After a week she had stopped looking.
Thinking about him was another story entirely. She didn’t seem to have much control over those heated thoughts that stole into her mind when she was alone in her bed at the end of the day. And her dreams were completely out of control. She’d awoken practically every night over the past two weeks from a restless sleep filled with erotic images and her body on the verge of orgasm. She was always tempted to turn to her trusty vibrator to finish what her imagination had started but that would be like admitting that she still wanted him. She couldn’t give even the fantasy version of Mr. Kevin Hall that satisfaction.
So, despite her recent successes she was also annoyed and horny as hell. And it was that man’s fault. Why had he come to White Rock in the first place? She could have resisted him if he hadn’t come to her there, where she was most vulnerable. Now she felt something for him and he was nowhere to be seen. She felt so stupid. Some Love Guru.
The Love Laws Page 20
