by Teagan Kade
What more can I ask for?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PHOENIX
I shake my head rocking up to my father’s place. Apparently, the last place wasn’t grandiose enough, so now he lives with Alissa in this monstrosity, the two of them with more space than a family of a hundred would require.
Yet for all that money the front door’s unlocked and security is surprisingly lax. I walk straight in and immediately find Alissa sitting in the lounge. At first, she appears to be watching a blank TV until I realize she’s actually on her phone.
I try not to startle her. “Dad away?”
There’s no startling to be had, Alissa simply turning around as if I’d be standing there all along—kind of creepy, actually. “He’s in the shower.” Her face brightens. “Can I get you anything? Lemonade?”
These many women of my father always seem so eager to please and play housewife. I have no idea what they see in him apart from his big, fat bank account.
“I’m good. I came here to see you, actually.”
Now she looks startled. “Me? Oh?” She stands, gliding around the sofa to face me. “Is everything okay?”
In a way, I get it. She’s dragged around the countryside after my father, spends the rest of the time sitting around tombs like this with nothing to do because there’s a whole team of people to do it for her. Some life. Well, I’m about to bring purpose back to the table. For her.
“I need your help.”
Wonder growing. “Anything,” she replies.
“I have a friend who’s trying to start a soup kitchen for the homeless, but she’s lacking the necessary funding.”
“You’d have to speak to your father, Phoenix. I don’t…”
I take a step closer to her, getting to the point. “I’m putting together an auction, for the soup kitchen, food truck, whatever, for charity, and I’d like your help coordinating the venue, advertising the event and so on. You have a background in event coordinating, yes?”
She’s practically jumping up and down on the spot with excitement. “Yes, yes. We had many big clients.”
“I’ve heard you’re good at that kind of thing.” And a touch of flattery for effect.
It has the desired result. “Whatever you need, I can arrange it.” She starts to list off contacts, throwing out ideas and potential venues. Admittedly I glaze over a bit, but given her sheer enthusiasm here I know I’ve come to the right person. It’s almost too easy.
Alissa’s halfway through her pitch when my father arrives half wet, towel around his waist. I don’t want to know what this midday shower is about, could have done without the peep show. He seems far more surprised than Alissa to see me. “Phoenix. Good to see you.” He looks between Alissa and me. “Seems like you two are getting along.”
I do admit from the outside it would be odd for any of us brothers to get to know Dad’s latest acquisition. I think we learnt after the third or fourth it’s simply not worth investing any kind of time in them if they’re just going to be kicked to the wayside in six months, though Alissa has outlasted most.
Dad takes a seat on the back of the sofa, towel dangerously close to revealing the family jewels. “Say, have you made up your mind which team you’re going to sign with? I assume that’s why you’ve come around, let the old man know face to face.”
I give an audible sigh, hadn’t really considered this. “Not yet, Dad.”
It invokes an instant change of demeanor. “You better hurry the hell up, son. Nothing. Not an inkling or twitch of the balls which way you want to go? I hear Denver’s offering big things.”
So he’s been chin-wagging with Jamie, not that I’m surprised. You think he’d be busier micro-managing his team than his sons. I try to be evasive as I can. “I’m still looking at the options, weighing it all up. It’s a big decision.”
He pushes himself off the sofa, clapping his big hand on my shoulder. I note he seems to be shrinking with age. “It is, but you’ve got to get going while the going is hot, understand me?”
Who could ever understand the mystery that is the mind of Stone King? “Perfectly, father.”
But he won’t stop. “I hate to say it, but even someone as sought-after as you can blow off opportunity if you wait too long.”
“I get it, Dad.”
His damn hand is still on my shoulder, squeezing now. “It’s about more than picking a team. This is about family pride, son, building a legacy for yourself.”
Or yourself, I want to correct, keeping my mouth shut and letting him waffle on.
“You can’t be distracted. You can’t be blindsided by this distraction or that. You’ve worked hard for this and now’s the time to cash in your chips.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“It’s about taking responsibility too. You’re a King. Don’t you forget that.”
Hard to tell if that was idle advice or a thinly veiled threat. “How could I?” I bring my hand to my chest. “After all, I’ve got a permanent reminder.”
Dad brings his hand to his own crown tattoo. “Damn straight, son. The best stock out there.”
This is getting a bit too melodramatic for my liking. I slowly peel his hand away from my shoulder looking for a way to distract him. “I actually came to ask for your help, and Alissa’s.”
The same shocked expression follows. “Our help? You’re going to have to elaborate.”
Alissa fills him in. “Phoenix is holding an auction, for charity. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Far from wonder, I see only skepticism in my father’s eyes. “And the reason for this so-called charity, son?”
“I’m feeling philanthropic, what can I say?”
He doesn’t look convinced.
Alissa tugs at his arm like a five-year-old asking for a lollipop. “I can coordinate the venue, help advertise. This could do great things for the King name in Crestfall.”
Maybe I wasn’t giving her enough credit, because those sugary sweet words bring a bit of color back into Dad’s face. “I suppose there’s no harm in it.” He directs his attention to me. “What did you say it was for?”
“To feed the homeless.”
“Hmm,” he mumbles, thinking it over and looking to Alissa. “If you think you have the time, my love.”
“Of course,” she laughs back, stroking his chest and once again there is a sight I really don’t want to see.
I need to get out of here before Dad lures me into another verbal slugging match over which team I’m signing with. I start to walk backwards in the direction of the front door, hands together. “Thanks so much for the help, guys. Alissa, I’ll text you the details so you can get started right away.”
“Looking forward to it,” she beams, and I’m pretty sure this is the most exciting thing to happen to her since Dad let her choose the living room drapes. She dashes away, calling, “I’m going to start making calls.”
Before Dad has a chance to delve back into basketball, I’m already at the door, waving goodbye. “See you soon.”
He’s still trying to speak to me as I close the door and make a run for it.
Back in the safety of my car it occurs to me I’m smiling to myself. I reach up for the rear-view, tilting it towards myself. “What’s got you so perky, huh?”
As I drive and untangle my thoughts, I begin to realize it’s a combination of things—Heather, organizing the auction, learning a new skill and, as unbelievable as it is, the idea of leaving basketball once and for all. I haven’t put anything into motion on that front, but simply the idea of it, the thought of doing away with what I’ve come to loathe, has been enough to push me into a state of happiness I haven’t felt in years. That big-ass boulder’s that has been squatting on my chest is being lifted away and finally I can breathe… or at least imagine what it’s like.
Still, giving up basketball seems like a pipe dream. I drive and mull it over, probe the idea from every angle. I’m giving it way more attention than the first time Heather brought it up. Back
then it seemed like an obtuse, abstract concept. Phoenix King, giving up basketball? Does the sun rise?
I head down Main Street and park, crossing the road to a sushi bar that opened last year, perhaps the most cuisine-forward thing to happen to Crestfall in years. It was a novelty at first, but the crowds have died down. Normally I’d enter to the usual greeting of ‘Irasshaimase!’ or ‘Welcome, come in!’, take a seat at the train and mindlessly grab dishes.
Not today.
I sit and watch the chef prepare the sushi. He’s older than the others, maybe someone’s father or uncle. I watch his knifework and the practiced moves of his hands, the ease at which he operates. He notices me watching and smiles, his hands continuing to work.
Someone’s father, my head echoes, and I think of my own, of the disappointment on his face when I tell him I’m giving up basketball. It would be easier telling him I have terminal cancer.
As much as I want to, I can’t do it. I can’t let him down. And just like that the spell is broken.
I smile back to the chef and reach for a dish.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HEATHER
As far as weather goes, you don’t get any better than this. There’s a blue sky settled over Crestfall so bright you’d think it’d been painted in place.
I pull down under the bridge, the passenger grab-handle Phoenix reached for coming away in his hand. He stares at it curiously. “Shit. Sorry.”
All I can do is laugh. “Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if the wheels fell off next.”
“You need a better car.”
“I need a lot of things, but a Lamborghini is a long way down the list.”
He leans back towards the passenger door, eyeing me. “I can see you on a bike, actually, hair whipping behind you, not a care in the world.”
“And you hugging me from behind like a big teddy bear? Doesn’t sound too bad, but I think I’d prefer it the other way around.”
He smiles, legs spreading and yes, definitely something going on between them. “That can be arranged.”
I park and turn off the ignition. “How’s the auction going?”
In truth, I’m not expecting an answer. I thought Phoenix was simply getting swept away in the moment, pussy-whipped into this kind of philanthropy by Yours Truly, but his reply surprises me.
He takes out his cell, that bulge in the crotch of his jeans doing strange, tingly things to the hot spot between my thighs. “Alissa’s already scouting out venues, been in touch with some of her old marketing buddies to put together a campaign. My father’s onboard financially, but I imagine he’ll take a backseat when it comes to the actual organization, and I’ve been busy blasting the message out. In short, it’s coming along.” He flicks at the screen. “Want to check out what Alissa’s come up with?”
“No, it’s fine. I mean, it’s great that you’ve made this, ah, progress. I didn’t think—”
“I’d go through with it?” He undoes his seatbelt and bridges the space between us, hand sliding into that tight space between my legs, his lips pressing to mine and forcing my mouth wide. If I could melt through the floor, I would, but I ease him away gently, looking through the windshield at the shadowy figures already emerging from under the bridge. “Raincheck?”
He moves away slowly. “I’ll hold you to it, boss lady.”
I open my door. “Come on. We’ve got mouths to feed, and cover up that erection, will you? I want you to help these people, not scar them for life.”
He’s laughing as he pulls his jacket down. “Yes, ma’am.”
We’re halfway through handing out the sandwiches when I see Gordy’s van pulling up next to my car.
I hand Phoenix what’s left of my box. “Here. Keep going. I’ll be right back.”
He looks over to the van. “Someone you know?”
“Just give me a minute,” I tell him, jogging over to the van, a flustered Gordy emerging with some difficulty. He stands there taking in the scene. “I see you’ve beat me to it today.”
I put my hands on my hips, smiling. “I don’t think anyone here’s going to complain about a second meal.”
He spots Phoenix. “And you brought help, I see.”
I can see the suspicion grow, the slight, sudden tension in Gordy’s posture. I recognize it from the hundred times I brought home a stray—animal or human. “You don’t have to worry about him,” I tell Gordy. “In fact, he’s already started putting that auction together for the food truck, thinks we might even make enough to buy a space for a new soup kitchen. Sounds like it’s going to be quite the event.”
Gordy’s lips purse. “I bet.”
I slap him lightly in the chest. “Oh, come on. Promise me you’ll give him a chance.” I put my hands together, dig up my best pout from my childhood. “Pretty please with a cherry on top.”
That elicits a smile. “Well, I do like a good cherry.”
“That’s the spirit.” I take his hand. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”
The tension remains when I set Gordy before Phoenix. “Phoenix, this is Gordy. Gordy, meet Phoenix King.”
Phoenix places the box down to shake his hand, the hint of displeasure on his face given Gordy’s probably trying to break his fingers, but he smiles through it. “A pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Likewise,” replies Gordy deadpan, that protective streak so obvious now he may as well have brought a shotgun.
I give him a subtle elbow in the side. “I was just telling Gordy about the auction.”
Another line has started to form in front of us now Gordy is here, but his attention is very much set on Phoenix. “Sounds like a swell idea. You think you can pull it off?”
And what follows is the infamous King grin, that smug come-at-’em smile that won me over in the first place. “Absolutely.”
Gordy remains stony-faced. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
“Guess we will.”
An awkward silence follows while the two size each other up, Gordy eventually thumbing behind himself. “I’m going to go unpack.”
He gives Phoenix one last eyeful before forcing a smile and starting back towards his van.
Phoenix picks up the box of remaining sandwiches and resumes handing them out, looking over to Gordy again. “Why do I get the impression he doesn’t like me very much?”
“He likes you just fine,” I lie, “but we’ve known each other a long time. He’s just looking out for me.”
“He’s a… big guy.”
“With a big heart, a softy, really, but I consider him more like a father than an ex-employer. He’s given me a lot. He’s watched me grow up, taught me everything I know. Can you blame him for being a little defensive?”
Phoenix hands out the last sandwich. “I guess not. Should I ask his approval to date you?”
“Ha,” I laugh. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Because you’re an independent woman?”
I bump his hips. “You better believe it, mister.”
I feel his lips at my ear, the hot whisper of his breath against it. “Maybe later I’ll take that independence away, tie you up and have my wicked way with you. What would you say to that?”
I fight against the sexual surge that follows, tongue running across my lower lip. “I’d say you have to earn that privilege.”
His voice lowers filling with that gritty, gravelly tone that sends me wild. He looks to see if Gordy is watching before taking hold of an ass cheek and squeezing. “My heart might be yours, maybe more, but this ass? This ass is mine.”
I reach around and remove his hand. “We shall see.”
The line’s moved over to the back of Gordy’s van where he’s busy handing out what looks like containers of tuna casserole—his great grandmother’s recipe, if I recall.
There’s a single siren whoop, everyone’s attention turning towards the patrol car that’s snaking its way down to us. It parks next to my car, Teddy getting out and straightening his cap, pulli
ng up his belt and taking in the scene. He walks over slowly, stopping before Phoenix and me, looking upwards. He whistles. “Quite a day for it, wouldn’t you say?”
“Is this a friendly visit, Teddy?” I ask.
He takes his sunglasses off, pocketing them. “Afraid not, folks. The mayor’s up for reelection and has decided to actually get off his ass for once and make it look like he’s doing something. Sorry to say he’s got a real hard-on for breaking up the party here.”
I can’t help but get defensive. “What the hell has this got to do with him?”
Teddy raises his hands, stepping onto his backfoot. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”
I take a step forward. “What possible reason could he have for trying to stop us?”
“He says feeding these people, well, it encourages them to loiter.”
“Loiter!” I snap, jabbing my finger at Teddy. “Are you for fucking real?”
Phoenix has his arms around me, trying to pull me back. “Easy, easy.”
“Like I said,” continues Teddy. “I don’t agree with it, think it stinks to high heaven, awful damn policy, but I have to enforce it. If I don’t, someone else will, and they won’t be anywhere near as nice.”
“But you’re the only cop in this part of town.”
Teddy scratches at the side of his neck. “They’ve brought on two more, real redneck power-hard-on types part of this whole damn citywide clean-up thing, get the place looking nice and polished, sweep the rest under the rug.”
“Let me get this right,” I say, trying my best not to let my anger overflow. “This town can’t get funding for a simple soup kitchen, but they can hire a couple of goons from upstate to help stop us actually helping?”
Teddy gives a short laugh. “‘Goons’ might be stretching it, but they’re looking to make a mark, sure. I imagine they’re not going to go easy if anyone gets in their way.”
“And you’re good with this?”
