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Mister Stand-In: A Hero Club Novel

Page 6

by C. M. Albert


  Soon.

  You have my number. (See it? There below?) I’m leaving whatever this is, or whatever this could be, in your court. Besides, I play a mean game of Uno myself. Let’s make it a date?

  XO, Mister Stand-In

  Was this for real? My hands shook as I reread his letter again. The kiss had caught me off guard. One minute I wanted to smack that damn cocky smirk off his face, and the next I wanted to devour his mouth whole, investigating every inch of it. Tracing his lips with my tongue. It’s what I’d always wanted, right? But maybe he was right. Thirteen was a long time ago. Would I have even appreciated or understood a kiss like that at thirteen? Not if I could hardly wrap my head around it now at twenty-five.

  I set the letter back down only when room service knocked at the door. I gladly accepted and devoured breakfast, texting Willa that I had to talk to her ASAP. Though, if I knew my friend, she wouldn’t be rising from the dead until well after noon. The car ride home was short, which only gave me time to worry over the kiss . . . and Carter’s note. I had to talk to someone.

  When I got home, I called Bianca.

  “Hey, girl!” she said cheerfully. I could hear the clatter of dishes behind her and a warbly, off-key rendition of a Disney song.

  “Oh, hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?” I asked, laughing.

  The warbler was Georgie, and she was belting out “Into the Unknown” from Frozen 2 as if she were auditioning for the X Factor.

  “Nope. Not at all,” Bianca said, with all the calm and confidence of a seasoned pro. “Just finished loading the dishwasher. Let me find somewhere quiet where we can talk. Hang on.”

  She closed a door and then released a hefty sigh. “Ah! It feels so good to sit down. My feet are killing me after dancing in those heels last night!”

  I laughed, knowing exactly how she felt.

  “It was a beautiful wedding, don’t you think?” she asked.

  It had been. I knew I should be more focused on my stepmom’s happiness than my own. But I never thought I’d see Carter again, let alone twice in one week. And I certainly didn’t expect the attraction to be tenfold. If I thought he’d been cute as a teenager, I would have melted over the man he’d grown into.

  “It really was. Lauren seemed . . . content. It makes me happy to know she was able to find love again.”

  “It’s the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time,” Bianca admitted. “Who knew Richard had that in him?”

  Then I really belly laughed. “Don’t get me started on that,” I said. “My mind just cannot go there.”

  “So, what’s going on? Are you calling about the new article Sylvia has for you?”

  Umm . . . “What new article?”

  “Oh. Shit. She didn’t find you last night? She said she would.”

  “Not as far as I can remember,” I said. “Do you want to tell me what it’s about?”

  “Why don’t you go first,” she said. “Pleasure before business. I want to hear the good stuff. Speaking of good stuff—I saw you and Carter chatting it up a few times.”

  “Ugh!” I moaned. “That’s why I’m calling.”

  “Well, that certainly doesn’t sound like a good thing. Everything okay?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know,” I admitted. “I knew Carter when we were younger. From The Grove. My dad, Lauren, and I used to vacation there every summer for almost an entire month.”

  I closed my eyes and saw Carter’s arrogant grin. Remembered the way the muscles of his back felt under my hands when we kissed. Even the sound of “princess” as it rolled off his tongue made weird things happen to my body.

  “We kissed,” I blurted out.

  “Wait, what? When? Last night?”

  “Yep.”

  “You mean, other than the smooch he laid on you when he dipped you on your entrance?” she teased. I would never live that one down thanks to Carter.

  “Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure how it happened. I—there was tension between Carter and me from when we were kids. And we were at each other all night. When we bumped into each other in the garden . . . I don’t know. It was like he was baiting me one second, and then kissing me the next.”

  “Sounds like tension, all right,” she said. “The best kind. So, was it as good as you suspected?”

  “Better!” I groaned, making it sound like that was the worst thing in the world.

  “So, what’s the problem? You gonna see him again?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just—weird. He used to have a crush on Lauren when he was a teenager. That’s kind of weird, right?”

  “Not really. Most boys fantasize about beautiful, older women who are out of reach. He doesn’t still have feelings, does he?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “He wants to see me again.”

  “That’s great! Sounds like there’s no reason to make it an issue then.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Am I missing something?”

  “No. Maybe.” I bit my lip. It was one thing to admit this to Willa, but another thing all together to say it to Bianca. “When we were younger, I asked him to be my first kiss.”

  “Oh, no!” Bianca said, chuckling sympathetically. “And was he?”

  “No. That’s the problem. I felt like such a fool. I was thirteen and he was almost eighteen. But I was so sure he saw me, despite all his goofy friends mocking him about me. I guess that rejection hurt more than I realized. That and feeling like I didn’t quite measure up to Lauren all these years.”

  “Oh, Presley, those are two separate things. His being a horny teenager and fantasizing about Lauren had nothing to do with your worth. And his saying no to your first kiss was noble, in my opinion.”

  “How so?” It sure didn’t feel noble.

  “You were thirteen, Pres. He was older, and probably more experienced. It would’ve been easy to take advantage of that—especially if you were making your intentions known. Some boys would’ve. But trust me when I say, back then, it would’ve crossed a line. Especially with his father working at the resort. That age difference is nothing though, now that you’re both consenting adults.”

  I sighed, knowing she had a point. But I’d felt so grown up at thirteen. I was traveled. I’d survived the loss of my mother. I had even seen a naked boy already by then (though he didn’t know that!). I felt ready to be kissed by Carter. There hadn’t been a single thing I didn’t like about him then—except for the fact that he wouldn’t give me the time of day.

  “I guess it’s silly to hold on to something that happened so long ago. You’re right. He’s a grown-ass man now. And I—I’m completely different now, too. ”

  “Maybe you owe it to yourself to find out?”

  “You’re right. Maybe I can find a reason to see him again. See if it was just the champagne, or if the chemistry was real.”

  “Well,” Bianca said dramatically, “I may have a chance to make that happen.”

  “Bianca?”

  “Hear me out. Remember that article I mentioned?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, you’ll want to get the specifics from Sylvia, but she mentioned last night that she had a brilliant idea for a ‘rags to riches’ article to publish online.”

  “And?”

  “And apparently Lauren asked Sylvia to do a piece on Carter. You know—because he didn’t come from much, even though his dad works for one of the most prestigious resorts in the southeast. He rose up from next to nothing, graduated college, went on to join the military—”

  “He was in the military?”

  “Yep. Then he came to New York and started his business—Mister Stand-In. He keeps a small, wealthy clientele, and that business model seems to work for him. He’s estimated to be a millionaire already, and he hasn’t even turned thirty yet. The Finance Times is doing its biannual
feature on the top thirty millionaires under thirty and what makes them so successful. And Sylvia wants you to write a featured article about Carter for this.”

  “I can’t do it, Bianca. Especially not now. It’s a conflict of interest.”

  “Not if you do the interview first—before you get too involved. I can attest to that,” she said, chuckling.

  I bit my lip. Could I actually do this? “Why is he on the list though? If his company is privately held, how did he make such a prestigious list?”

  “Well,” Bianca hedged, “it probably had something to do with Lauren cornering Sylvia last night at the reception. Who knows? It doesn’t matter, though, because he deserves to be on that list.”

  I dropped my head to my hands. A few days ago, Carter Wright wasn’t even on my mind. Now, he was showing up everywhere, and . . . complicating things.

  “This will be a huge billing for your resume, Presley. Your first full-feature online article. When Sylvia asks, just be prepared. This is a make-it-or-break-it career move. Do the story, then if you’re still interested, pursue the guy.”

  “Was that what you did? With Dex?”

  Bianca chuckled. “Not exactly. Though I tried to stay as neutral as possible until the article was published. For journalistic integrity. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my interest had been more than piqued beforehand. Like the time he sent me a pic of him half naked and stretched out on his bed. Man,” she said, whistling. “To be fair, though, I didn’t know it was Dex at the time.”

  “Maybe more than I needed to hear,” I said truthfully. Dex was like a big brother to me. Yeah, he was attractive. But no. Just no. The problem was, as soon as she said it, all I could imagine was seeing Carter lying in bed, half naked, looking at me with those soulful brown eyes of his.

  “Okay, well I guess I’ll wait to hear from Sylvia, then decide how to proceed.” It was all I could do. I’d waited over a decade for Carter Wright. If I needed to write this piece, he could wait a few more weeks for me.

  “Keep me posted, okay?”

  “Will do. And Bianca?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem, P. I’ve been there. I know how conflicted you feel. I believe everything will work out as it’s meant to.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I said before hanging up.

  I’m not sure who I was trying to convince though.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Carter

  KARMA’S A BITCH, plain and simple. Waiting for Presley to call was the worst form of torture. I’d never once in my life waited by the phone for any woman. Yet I couldn’t stop from checking my screen every thirty minutes or so.

  I went and walked Baby Yoda on my own, since Dex had a fire he had to put out at work, what with Richard gone on his honeymoon. I only had one gig this week, and it was an easy one. I was accompanying a rising new painter to her first gallery opening, so she had someone by her side. We’d already been introduced through a friend of a friend, so it wouldn’t feel awkward or look like it was our first time being together. Hopefully, it would feel more natural for her. And that’s what I provided my clients. A friend to stand in so they didn’t have to do something alone. True, some of my clients weren’t quite that wholesome. Some simply hired me because I was good eye candy to beef up their social media. But most really needed someone to just be there for them.

  Like the young woman whose college graduation I attended with a group of my friends, cheering so loudly I thought they’d escort us out. Because she was gay, her parents disowned her, refusing to attend their only daughter’s graduation ceremony. Or the kid whose mother hired me to help him learn how to do things that his father would have taught him, if he hadn’t died in combat. (That one I did for free.)

  The gig Wednesday night with Chelè would be fun, and most of all, easy. I needed that after this weekend. I hadn’t meant to get involved. It was supposed to be an easy in, easy out gig. Brush my hands clean of the Kincaids.

  “And then I saw Presley,” I said to Baby, who was sitting at my feet on the bench. Without Bandit to watch over her, I think she was afraid of the other dogs. I scratched behind her favorite ear and she leaned into me. “Has that ever happened to you? Where you just saw someone and knew?” I found myself asking the dog. Then I checked my phone again.

  “Of course you didn’t. You’d have to smell their butt first,” I said, chuckling. Baby hopped up into my lap and curled up. It was going to be one of those kinds of days. I sat there in contented silence, enjoying the sunny afternoon while eating my lunch. I fed Baby a few pieces of chicken, even though the center advised us not to. How could I say no to those big, round, puppy dog eyes? It was unfair that she was so damn cute.

  When the phone rang, I nearly dropped Baby from my lap I reacted so quickly. But it wasn’t Presley. It was my dad.

  “Hey, Pops. How’s it going?”

  “Well hey, Carter. How are you doing these days? It’s been a while.”

  I knew he hadn’t meant it as a dig. The guilt was all my own. “Doing okay. You’ll never guess who I ran into last week.”

  “Oh? Who’s that?”

  “Lauren Kincaid and her daughter, Presley. Do you remember the Kincaids?”

  “How could I forget them, son? They were some of the kinder guests I’ve met over the years. How’s that sweet Presley doing these days? Isn’t she your age?”

  “Are we remembering the same girl?” I asked, chuckling. “I think you forget how she used to hide lizards in my toolbox and purposefully tripped the breakers so I’d have to come reset them for the building.”

  “Innocent fun,” my dad said. “And Lauren? She still as foxy as you remembered?”

  “Pops,” I warned, “the reason I ran into her is because her husband passed away several years ago. Presley’s father. If you recall, Lauren was her stepmom. And she just remarried.”

  “Oh, right, right. So, who’s she hitched to now? Anyone I know?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Richard Brash? Dex Truitt’s CFO at Montague Enterprises?”

  “Oh, yes. Richard. Huh,” he said, then grew quiet. “Sounds like she’ll be taken care of at least.”

  “No doubt,” I said.

  “And Presley?”

  “Still as mouthy and perplexing as ever.”

  Pops chuckled. “So, she’s turned into a looker, has she?”

  “Maybe,” I conceded. “So, what’s going on with you? How’ve you been feeling?”

  “Well, that’s why I’m calling,” he said.

  I stopped cold. No. “Pops, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing yet, I don’t think. Just, maybe a few polyps they’re concerned about.”

  “As in cancer?” I stood up, the puppy sliding from my lap and staring up at me from the bench.

  “Well, let’s not rush the gun yet. Just some polyps they think they can remove fairly easily. Not sure how many. Not sure if they’ll need to do anything else. Not getting too excited about it yet.”

  “Dad,” I said. I rarely called him that. He was always Pops. But I was worried. My throat felt like it was closing, and I had to put Baby back on her leash and start walking or I’d do something embarrassing like cry on a bench in the park.

  “If it gets worse, I’ll let ya know. I promise.”

  “When’s the biopsy?”

  “Oh, they’ve done the biopsy. These are precancerous. They’re removing the polyps next Tuesday.”

  “Do you need me to come down?” I was going down regardless of his answer.

  “Nope. You stay home and I’ll keep you posted. This ain’t life or death, you know. Everyone gets a few polyps now and again.”

  Did they though?

  “Who’s bringing you? Making sure you get home okay?”

  “Oh, you know Veta is,” he said, speakin
g of his long-term partner. They’d not gotten married, and they still lived apart, but they had an understanding and treated each other like husband and wife. She took care of him—cleaned his house and cooked him meals. And he mowed her lawn and fixed things around the house. Yet they both said their arrangement worked fine the way it was. No need messing with something that wasn’t broken.

  “All right. I’ll keep in touch with her then. I was planning on a visit soon anyway.”

  “You don’t need to bother, Carter. I’m okay.”

  “You’re not a bother, Pops,” I said affectionately. “I miss seeing you. It’s been too damn long.”

  “Yeah, I suppose it has.”

  “All right, good luck, old man. You’ll do great.”

  “Yep. All I gotta do is lay there and hold still.”

  I covered my eyes with my hand. “Dad, I’m pretty sure you’ll be under, right?”

  “I’m just teasing, Carter. They’re pros. Do this stuff all the time.”

  “All right. Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you, too, son.”

  I didn’t say anything about the catch I heard in his voice, and he ignored mine. I picked up Baby and held her in my arms all the way back to the shelter. I know it was for my sake more than it was hers. I needed something to hold on to when I had no control over my dad’s fate.

  I dropped my little buddy off at the rescue center and Suzette at the front desk smiled up at me. “How did she do today, Mr. Wright?”

  “You know, Baby,” I said. “Always the life of the party.”

  “Have you heard the good news?”

  I stood up straighter. “No, what good news?”

  “We finally found her a home. She’s being adopted next Wednesday.”

  My heart sank. I’d never get to see Baby again? I knelt and scratched her ears.

  “You know the outpouring of interest spiked after we released a picture of her on the news. Everyone wants the puppy who looks like Baby Yoda. But we found her a good forever home with kids and a big yard. Someone who could take care of her specialized health needs.”

  I stopped listening. Baby stared deep into my eyes and blinked up at me, as if saying, “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

 

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