Still, jealousy is an evil bitch, and she’s got her claws in me deep now.
All I can think about is him touching her, and her touching him, and both of them smiling and laughing and… God, what if he liked it?
What if he likes her?
“I swear I didn’t, Big,” Skyler says. “You know I wouldn’t have done it if I had known.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” I say deftly, because now my wheels are turning over that last thought.
What if he likes her?
What if he likes her?
And just like that, an idea snaps into place like the last piece of a puzzle.
What. If. He. Likes. Her.
“Actually,” I say, turning to face them all again as hope finds me. “No — this is good. This is perfect.”
“Um, how is this even remotely in the same category as good?” Cassie asks.
I dart to the planner on my desk, flipping it open as I try my best to explain. The idea is a little crazy, but crazy just might work.
“Well, Kip and I didn’t exactly have the best ending that summer. I may have acted a little immature, at best,” I admit, thinking of how I would look through his phone, letting my jealousy get the better of me until I blew up on him.
I was young, emotional, naïve — I didn’t know what I had until I lost it.
Finding the date I was looking for, I tap the highlighted event, spinning to face the girls again.
“This is perfect. I don’t think he would want to talk to me, let alone get back together right now. I need him to come around more, to see how I’ve grown and how respected I am here. I want him to see that four years has done me well.”
“Absolutely! You’re the shit,” Jess says, but she still looks concerned. “But, I’m lost on how this has anything to do with your Little having lover boy’s tongue in her mouth.”
Skyler groans, stuffing her head back into the pillow while I try again not to give into my urge to scratch her eyes out for so much as looking at Kip.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Because,” I say, calm again, my features smooth. I carefully take a seat on the floor in front of Skyler, knowing before I say the words how insane my little idea is. “She’s going to be the one to get him to come back to me. She’s the bait.”
Skyler’s head snaps up, her wide, blue eyes meeting mine.
“What? No way!” She jumps up from the floor, tossing the pillow she’s been hiding behind on the bed. “I mistakenly made out with your high school… whatever he was, but I’m not involved in this.”
I pop up, ready to plead my case. “You are now! He knows you now,” I argue. “He’s obviously interested, and you’re the best shot I have at getting him to hang around me in a natural way without it looking like I’m insane. Or a creeper. Or both.”
It’s true. I had pulled the girls together to think of ways for me to get him back, to work out a plan. Though this isn’t exactly how I pictured things going down, it just might be crazy enough to work.
“Big, you can’t be serious,” Skyler says. “What am I supposed to do… woo him? Flirt him into following me around like a puppy and then blow him off so you can pick up the pieces?”
I pause, digesting her suggestion. “I hadn’t thought it out quite that far, but yes.”
“No,” Skyler says immediately, tossing her hands up. “I’m leaving this room and we can just pretend like last night and this conversation didn’t happen.”
She turns to leave, and like an out-of-body-experience, I watch in horror from the corner of the room as the next words leave my mouth.
“You want to be president next year, don’t you?”
It’s like all the air is sucked out of the room with that question. Skyler is stiff as a rod, and when I come to, back in my own body again, Jess is the first person I hear.
“Ex,” she warns. She’s telling me to back off, that I’ve gone too far, but she doesn’t understand.
No one understands.
This is the only speck of joy I’ve managed to find since I was violated in the worst possible way a woman can be. It’s been almost a year since it happened, and I still exist in a dark hole of nothingness, where the thought of being happy again feels so ludicrous I don’t even allow myself to consider it.
But then, Kip showed up at Palm South University.
I won’t let this chance pass me by.
“No, I’m serious,” I say. “You have to make a lot of sacrifices as president, Little. You have to do a lot of stuff you really don’t want to do. This position is not for the weak or the scared or the selfish.”
The irony of that last sentence isn’t lost on me, considering I was weak, I am scared, and right now, I’m also proving to be very, very selfish.
“You want to be next in line?” I ask her. “It’s time to start proving you can take it, that you belong in this room when I leave. You need to step up, Little.”
And just like that, I become the villain I never knew I could be.
Skyler’s face crumples, but she nods. “Can I at least think about it?”
Thinking back to my original plan, I glance at the date still highlighted in the open planner on my desk. “I tell you what, the date auction is Saturday. Let’s see if you made the impression I think you did. If he bids the highest and wins the date with you, then the game starts and you play him right into my hand.”
“I have a tournament that night, Big,” she complains. “I wasn’t even going to go to the auction.”
“Well, now you are going — and you’re getting auctioned off. If he bids the highest, then you’re doing this.” My words are absolute — final.
“And if he doesn’t?” she asks.
I shrug, confident enough in my assessment that I won’t have to worry about that possibility. “Then you’re off the hook. I want it to be easy for you to get him to come around, and bidding the highest at a date auction is pretty much the most simple way to get a girl on a date. If he doesn’t try and succeed to do just that with you, then there’s no point in you making it awkward and throwing yourself at him. But,” I counter. “If he dragged his tongue up your stomach, I seriously doubt he’ll let you go on a date with anyone else.”
It’s my attempt at a joke, to lighten the mood, but Skyler doesn’t crack so much as a small smile.
Can I blame her? This is possibly the worst thing I’ve done in my life… and that’s saying something, considering my actions after I slept with Clinton.
“Fine,” Skyler concedes. “But if he doesn’t make the highest bid, then I’m off the hook and you’re on your own to reel in your fish.”
Hope floods me again. She’s actually going to help!
Well, not that I actually gave her an option, but whatever.
“Absolutely, no questions asked.” I hold out my hand to shake Skyler’s, and when the deal is sealed, I can’t help the excitement that pours through me like liquid gold. I turn back to the other girls, practically squealing. “This is going to be fun!”
But even as I say the words, I know in my heart that this is going to be anything but fun for Skyler.
Her face falls again as she leaves the room, and I silently vow to make it up to her.
I owe you one, Little.
A COUPLE HOURS AFTER Erin’s emergency meeting, I’m swinging through the doors to one of the tallest buildings downtown with the biggest smile on my face. The click clack of my stilettos on the marble floor of the lobby comfort me, a calm, soothing sense of home washing over me as I make my way toward the elevator. That elevator will take me all the way up to the thirty-second floor, back to Okay, Cool, back to a place where I feel confident and respected, back to opportunity.
And back to Brandon Church.
A shallow breath fills my lungs as I press a hand to my stomach at the thought of him. I run my fingers over the buttons on my rose-pink blouse, biting my lower lip against the smile threatening to break on my face. When the elevator doors open, I step inside
confidently, a blush creeping over my cheeks at the memory of my first time inside it.
That was the day I met Brandon Church.
That was the day everything changed.
I sigh, giving into my smile as the doors start to close, but just like last semester, a hand darts in to stop them.
Only this one isn’t the strong, dark hand of the CEO who makes my panties drip with want. It’s a lighter hand, more feminine and delicate, with long, shiny, black pointy nails.
The silver doors open again, and the last person I expect to see greets me with a wicked smile.
“Hello, Ashlei.”
“Kimberly,” I manage as a response, straightening as she steps onto the elevator with me. I wait for her to choose a different floor, to explain what the hell she’s doing back in this building, but she simply smiles wider at my apparent confusion.
Kimberly Marks was an intern with me last semester, and it was no secret that she absolutely hated me. She started rumors about me and Brandon, and although they weren’t completely untrue, they also had no proof to back them up. Most of the associates couldn’t stand Kimberly — me included.
So then why was she on her way back to Okay, Cool with me?
Kimberly had cut her hair since I’d last seen her, the long, brown locks of curls chopped high and tight into a masculine fade. It accents her high cheek bones and slender nose even more, and leaves her slender collarbone exposed in her simple, scoop-neck, black dress. Her heels are a matte black, too, making her entire appearance dark and commanding.
She’s taller than me by several inches, even though my heels are higher than hers, and she seems to take pride in the way she gets to look down her nose at me to answer the questions I haven’t even asked aloud.
“What?” she asks, one thin, dark eyebrow raised in pity. “Did you think you were the only intern they invited back for another semester?” She clucks her tongue, turning back toward the elevator doors. “They asked me to come back, too — and unlike you, I wasn’t asked to extend because of the quality of my blow jobs.”
The corner of her red-stained lips quirks up at her little comment, and though my first instinct is to shove my stiletto heel up her ass, I simply smile back in a bless your heart kind of way, just like Mom always taught me.
“Well, congratulations, Kimberly. I look forward to working with you again,” I lie through my teeth. And just as the elevator dings, letting us know we hit the thirty-second floor, I step forward, making sure she understands her place behind me. “And thank you for the compliment on my skillset. It’s so nice to have the support of another professional, mature businesswoman.”
As the doors slide open, Kimberly steps up right behind me, her next threat hot on the skin of my neck.
“You were the top intern last semester, Daniels, but it should have been me. And now that I’ve been invited back for a second chance to prove that, you better believe I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m on to you,” she seethes. “So watch yourself, because I’m not backing down, and I won’t be overshadowed by the office slut again this semester.”
Her words sting, even though I try not to give them power. Still, I don’t offer her so much as another glance, let alone more of my time. I simply click and clack my way off that elevator and back into the place that feels like home — and I don’t bother holding the door open for her on my way in.
“ASHLEI!”
Mykayla throws her arms around me as soon as I make it inside, her ginormous breasts pressing against my stomach as she nuzzles into me.
“I’m so, so happy you’re back. I’ve missed you so much! How was your break? How’s the sorority? I love that skirt on you, and oh, my God, you’re so tan.”
I chuckle, pulling back from our embrace with a smile that mirrors hers. “I’m happy to see you, too, Mykayla.”
Kimberly slinks by behind us, narrowing her eyes at me and Mykayla as she makes her way to our section of cubicles. Mykayla notices the ugly look and scoffs, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at where Kimberly’s back just disappeared around the corner.
“What the hell? What is she doing back here?”
“Hell if I know,” I say on a sigh. “She seems pretty fixated on my demise, though.”
Mykayla snorts, rounding the welcome counter back to her chair and plopping down. She hands me my new name tag and office key fob with a gentle roll of her eyes. “Whatever. She’s peanut butter and jealous — has been since the moment she met you. Anyway, the other interns are almost finished in their morning orientation and then we’ll all break for lunch. Sit with me? Let’s catch up before the afternoon briefing!”
“You got it. I think I’ll walk around, say hi to everyone before then,” I say, pulse ticking up speed as I glance down the hall at Brandon’s office. The door is cracked, just enough for me to see his strong hand clicking away at his keyboard inside.
“Perfect. Holly should be back by the internship cubes already, if you want to start with her.”
I nod, knowing my manager’s desk should be the first place I stop, but ever since the last time Brandon’s hands splayed the small of my back, since the night I ditched my own formal and opted for him plowing me over the side of his desk, instead — he’s all I’ve been able to think about.
He said it was the last time he’d be able to touch me. He swore we’d have to behave ourselves, that we couldn’t see each other again — not like that.
But it was like telling a bird not to fly, or urging the wind not to blow — impossible, ridiculous, and absolutely futile.
I would have Brandon Church again. Of that, I was sure.
“I’ll make my way back there in a moment,” I finally say, my eyes still on his office door. “Figure I might as well say hi to Mr. Church while I’m out this way.”
Mykayla follows my gaze, shrugging. “Sure. He’s been locked in there all day, I’m sure he’d be happy for a break and a chance to welcome you back.” She smiles up at me, completely oblivious — thank God. “See you at lunch!”
Then, she gets right back to work like I’m no longer standing there, her little smile in place as she files through a massive stack of paper on her desk.
My throat is dry and sticky, my ability to swallow temporarily thwarted as I slowly make my way back to Brandon’s office. Each step has my heart beating a little faster, and my hands do anything but stay at my sides — they slide over my long, slick pony tail, smooth down the sides of my pencil skirt, fidget with my necklace. By the time I make it to his door, my knuckles softly rapping on the sleek, cool metal, I’m not sure if I want to smile, dance, or throw up.
“Come in,” Brandon says without looking up from his monitor.
I wedge my hip between the door and the glass of his office window, leaning against the silver pane and crossing my arms casually over my middle. “Good afternoon, Mr. Church.”
His hands stop, his eyes still locked on his screen. I watch his face, searching for a sign of recognition, of delight, of want — of anything, but he keeps all of his features completely schooled. His fingers go back to typing, only the slightest tick in his dark, strong jaw letting me know he registered my words at all.
“Miss Daniels,” he says calmly. “Nice to have you back. How was your winter break?”
“Uneventful,” I say, lowering my voice a little. “I was pretty sore, after all the dancing I did the night of my formal. Spent a lot of time recovering from that.”
There it is, I think, noting the slight twitch at the corner of Brandon’s mouth. He wants to smile, wants to tease me back, but he doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat, keeping his eyes glued to his screen.
“Well, we’re glad to have you back at Okay, Cool. I have to finish this report, but I’ll see you at the briefing later?”
“Are you sure I can’t help with your report?” I ask, voice seductive and laced with intention.
In the next second, I feel like a foolish little girl, because Brandon huffs, shaking his head as he pounds on
the keys harder.
“No, Miss Daniels, you can’t help. This is a report being crafted by the CEO, it’s not exactly internship busy work material.”
I snap back at the briskness of his tone, standing straight as shame shades my cheeks.
“Right. Of course. I didn’t mean to… I apologize, Mr. Church.”
He gives a curt nod. “No need to apologize. Have a good afternoon.”
My heart deflates like a sad, whining balloon. Brandon still won’t look at me, and though I knew he was serious when he said he wouldn’t be touching me again, the bigger part of me assumed that was just a cover — a way for him to say he tried to stay away from me once he finally gave in.
Judging by the way he won’t even look at me now, I realize I was wrong. He didn’t say those words last semester as a tease, or a joke, or a challenge.
He meant what he said, and for the first time in my life, I wish a man would have lied to me.
“You, too,” I say softly, dejected.
My heart beats too loudly in my ears as I shuffle my way back to the internship cubicles, my heels clicking along the marble once more.
But now, the sound doesn’t bring me comfort.
It just breaks my heart.
“I KNOW IT’S UPSETTING, but remember how you got here in the first place,” Alec says to a full, groaning chapter room on Friday night. He holds up his hands to try to silent my brothers, but it’s a futile attempt. Everyone is already anxious to get out to the bars, being that it’s our first weekend since rush, but with Alec’s news, that anxiousness turns more to anger.
Alec is the most hated alumni of Omega Chi Beta, mostly because he was the one to deliver us our asses on a silver platter last year in the form of a chapter suspension. And with the news he just delivered, his reputation isn’t getting any better.
Because even after minding our Ps and Qs last fall, we’re still suspended.
And my brothers are pissed.
After a semester of good deeds, we all thought we’d be back in action this year. But it turns out one semester doesn’t undo years of getting ourselves into trouble, and honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised.
Legacy: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 4) Page 4
