by Nicole Snow
I shake my head furiously. Big mistake. It only makes the pounding in my head worse. While I'm frozen, he reaches up and tucks a few stray hairs back against my ears.
I'm drunk and hungover, but I'm not dead. My hand shoots up, pinches his forearm, and I rake my nails down him. Just like a feral cat.
“Fucking hell!” Ty growls, steps back, and hits the wall. “Don't be a bitch. I was just trying to make sure you're –“
“What? Okay? Yeah, I was, until you decided to get in my face tonight. You fucked up my last night in this city with my best friend!”
He tries reaching for my shoulder, but I dodge him. Looks like I'm not the only one drunk tonight. Except there's the unmistakable smell of women all over him. Sickly sweet sex and perfume. He must've fucked them for hours.
My stupid brain wants to think about it too, but I won't let it. I try to get away as fast as my feet will carry me.
Then my heel catches on an unwieldy step going up the short staircase and I tumble.
I brace myself for a lot more pain when I hit the floor – except it never comes.
I fall right into his huge arms like a damned fairy tale. Okay, now I'm really pissed.
Ty flattens me against the wall as I fling my elbows against his hard abs, screaming my frustration. It doesn't faze him.
“Shhh. Quiet, babe. Just relax.” His voice rolls low, soothing, dangerously close to my ear. “Let me walk you out for a taxi. Just need to get a shirt on. I never got your name.”
“No!” Hellfire flows through my elbows again, and I stab him in the guts, as hard as I can.
I can't even hope to hurt him. I don't care if he's trying to help. I don't trust this jackass, and I need to get away before he drives me insane. I shove my elbows into his rock hard abs two more times, squirming like a madwoman.
He's just stunned enough to let me go, and I practically crawl up the stairs. For some dumb reason, I stop and look back, using the banister to get back on my feet.
There's a wicked sneer twisting his lips. He looks at me like something he's just stepped in, shakes his head, and shrugs. “Fine, babe, do it your way. Go the fuck home. Get some sleep.”
My stomach heaves. I'm terrified I'm about to lose the liquor left in my belly all over the place. I fight back the urge to vomit and watch him stomping back to his room.
I feel like total shit. I've made an ass of myself way too many times tonight, even if it was partially this dickhead's fault. I call out to him and stumble forward, back down the stairs, before I know what I'm doing.
“Wait!” My voice echoes down the long corridor.
He stops when he's almost to the burgundy door and turns, waiting for me. “Is there any way I can hit you back for the money? I spent it, and I shouldn't have.”
Brutal guilt. Shame. Typical for a Frost girl, especially one who grew up seeing her mom slandered every two years for re-election. But I don't want to owe this fucker a dime, even if we're talking about my own internal good karma counter instead of money.
“You don't owe me shit,” he growls. “I paid you for the laugh, just like I said. No different than any other entertainment tonight. You wanna give me something? Go home and rest like I told you. You're not Club Zing material.”
“You're not my boss.” I try not to shake my head, though it's impossible when this ham-fisted apology is the dumbest idea in the world. “I just want you to know I'm not a bitch. I'm not a bad person.”
He looks me up and down. Slowly. His eyes zero in on my cleavage, and I flush.
“Does that mean you changed your mind about the foursome?” He steps close, and next thing I know, I'm back against the wall. Fighting but not really fighting as he moves in for a kiss. “Shit, I'd settle for one on one at this point. Drunk and pissed, you're still fucking hot.”
Hot. Nobody's ever called me that before. It's the only explanation for why I let his vile lips connect with mine.
This isn't a kiss. This is a fucking explosion on my lips. My entire body tenses up, muscles clench, everything below the waist writhes like I'm made of snakes. I moan just as he presses his tongue in my mouth.
Of course, I've read about sexual tension in books and seen it on the big screen. I just didn't think it really happened, not like this animal spark igniting between us.
His tongue twines with mine and his lips move rougher, faster. My palms are on his back and my fingers go jagged, tearing at the skin underneath his thin robe. I can't decide if I want to hurt him or make him fuck me.
The unbelievable hard-on I feel grinding on my thigh definitely says he's willing.
I'm about to come completely undone when my legs kick hard. I knock my knees on his and shove my hands to the wall, twisting and flattening myself, crazy to get away before I do something I'll really regret. The other shit that's happened tonight is an afternoon sprinkle compared to this hurricane staring me down.
“Don't!” I yell, pushing against him when he comes close. “Really. I mean it. This was all a mistake...I need to go.”
“That's not what your body says, babe. I know a girl who wants to fuck when I see one. Hell, I can taste how bad you want it.”
I run. This time, I don't stop. I'm like a hummingbird darting up the stairs and through the bar, grabbing Dana by the wrist.
“Hey! I've been wondering where the hell you went. I've got your water if you want to down it before they –“
“We need to go. Right now, Dana. Now, now, now,” I whisper, urgent as all hell. “Let's find a cab.”
The rest of the night happens in a blur. Dana makes me crash at her apartment, and she doesn't let me sleep until I take a multivitamin and swallow three huge glasses of water.
I keep telling her I'm okay. I whisper something about a guy being too aggressive, too close to me when I'm drunk off my ass.
I don't dare tell her it's Ty, or that I practically invited the last collision with the sex-crazed jackass.
I'm already stuck in enough crap. I can't imagine telling her how good his lips tasted on mine.
At some point, she stops interrogating me and throws a blanket over me as I'm lying on her couch. I pass out and sleep like the dead until my phone screams me awake in late morning.
“Claire, it's Mom. Just making sure we're still on for lunch?”
Of course we are. The universe has decided to make me pay for last night.
I inwardly groan, wishing I could pass out for a few more hours. I'm alone in Dana's place. My friend went out shopping and left me an extra key to lock up if I decide to leave, as the note on the counter says.
“Yes, mom. I'll be there.”
“Oh, good!” her high, almost sing-song voice makes my ears ring. “Don't be late. I've got some huge news to tell you.”
Huge? As if big isn't enough? I hope to God she isn't going to say she's launching her Senate run early. I can't deal with the stress of that, especially the media storm it'll bring, when my first summer as a real adult has barely started.
“Honey, what's wrong?” Mom pauses, oh-so-concerned. I'm surprised she can't smell the vodka through the phone.
“Late night with Dana. Nothing to worry about. I'm just shaking off all the fun.”
“Claaaire.” She clucks her tongue in that haughty, disapproving way she's always done. “You need to start taking better care of yourself. You're out of college now. When I was your age, I was struggling just to keep my head above water. I didn't have time for all night drunken –”
Blah, blah. Fuck you. And blah.
Shaking my head, I slam my phone at the edge of the sink and wash up, listening to her lecture me about all the thrills and dangers of being a young woman. I want to cut the speaker phone, or else drown the fucking thing in the sink.
“Mom, I know. I hear you. Let's not talk about this, okay? I really want to have lunch and figure out the ride back to Tacoma. I haven't seen you for a while, and I actually want to. I just don't want you treating me like a total idiot.”
“Yes
, Tacoma...” She trails off oddly, and I don't really understand why.
Maybe admitting she actually counts freezes her cold in her tracks. Mom and I haven't really been close since I was a teenager. Her last couple terms in Congress were a blur. There wasn't much hanging out with her staying in DC half the year while I was stuck here for school.
Then when she left the US House and came home, she was always busy with something, and I can't say the desire to reconnect has been crazy pressing until now.
“All right. You know I'm only hard on you because I love you.”
“I know. So, Carbonari's at one?”
“No, no. I thought we'd try something new. There's this great new wine bar a little north of the city.”
She gives me the name and I almost fall over. It's a budget buster for me, and way beyond anything my frugal-minded mom normally indulges too.
Damn, now I really know she's contemplating that early Senate campaign. She's going to bribe me to soften the blow.
“Okay, I'll be there. Uh, you're paying, right?”
I exhale relief when she says yes, because I'd be going home hungry if she wasn't. It's a miracle I'm not ass deep in loans like my friends, but hitting the classes hard hasn't left me much time to work, and my bank account looks really pale.
Slipping out of Dana's apartment, I lock up and slide the key back underneath the door. Then I'm in my car, struggling for oversized shades to blot out the blinding sun.
My eyes don't want to let go of what happened last night. They're throbbing like mad, making me re-live all the stupid memories at Club Zing. My mind won't get off him the whole way to the wine bar.
I can't believe I kissed a total asshole. And I definitely can't believe I let him put his hands all over me, however brief. Jesus, what would've happened if I'd been so fucking drunk I said yes to Ty's gross advances?
Shaking my head makes my eyes feel better, so I'm practically swaying to the music buzzing out my radio the whole trip. Last night needs to be my last big drinking binge ever. A tall order, I know, because right now a glass or two of wine sounds awfully good, if only to take the edge off.
The place is even fancier than I thought. If it's not the Senate campaign, I wonder if she hit big in Vegas. Mom was gone there for a whole month up until my graduation. She's a gambler by nature, which I guess is what makes politics so appealing.
I can't say I'm immune to the same adrenaline rush – and certainly not to finer things. When I walk into the place, it's heavenly. The light potpourri of high-end wines blends with well-cooked steaks and starters. My stomach growls something fierce, reminding me I haven't eaten since a quick dinner last night, before meeting up with Dana.
“Honey! There you are!”
I turn toward Mom's voice and see her sitting in a stylish tall booth. And – what the hell? – she's not alone.
I can't get a good look at the guy next to her until I slide into the free seat. When I do, he looks vaguely familiar, but my brain can't place him. He's about her age, broad shouldered and generally well built with just a hint of a gut. His face is nice, except he's rocking some thick ass glasses that make him look like my Chem 101 professor.
“Claire, this is –“
“Gary Sterner.” He smiles, jabs his hand toward me. I take it, and he gives me a powerful shake. “I sincerely hope this isn't too rattling for you. Your mother assured me this would be the best way to make an introduction, so...here I am!”
I can tell by the way he's talking that this guy is a blend of distinguished rich guy and slightly awkward nerd. My stomach starts to tighten up when I think about why the hell's he's here at all.
“Don't tell me...this is your new campaign manager?” I blurt it out and guzzle water. Jesus, my throat's so dry from last night.
I just want to get this disaster over with, and find out how royally fucked our family's going to be for the next year.
Mom laughs, loud and a little childish. She gives my question a big fat no by wrapping her arms tight around the rich geek's neck – way closer than anything that would be professional or platonic.
I frown. Mom hasn't dated in ages. Hell, being a strong single woman who survived after being left by the anonymous deadbeat who made me was always a big part of her election narrative.
“No, honey. Gary's much more special than that.” She pauses and looks at him. Talk about puppy love. “I...I don't know how else to say this...”
Holy shit. I'm sitting up so straight my spine hurts. Mom's never at a loss for words.
“Claire, your mother's a married woman now,” Gary finishes for her. “I know it's sudden –“
“So sudden!” Mom squeals, squeezing his arm with her hands. “We didn't want to make a big spectacle. Gary's got way more cameras to worry about than I do. Claire, I cut my trip to Vegas short for this. As soon as he proposed, we headed up to Alaska on his jet. Had ourselves a small, private ceremony in Denali Park. It wasn't even a ceremony, really – just us and a priest, maybe a few grizzlies roaming around behind us. It was beautiful.”
No joke, I can feel my heartbeat in my eyeballs. It's like they're about to explode. I grab my water and swallow the whole thing, tipping the glass up high so it blocks my view of them.
“Claire, honey? Are you okay?”
I don't answer until my cup empties. The glass bangs the table hard when I set it down. I shake my head for like the hundredth time today.
“I'm...Jesus Christ, Mom! Married? I didn't even know you were seeing anyone!”
She frowns. It pains my heart to see the big smile melting like that.
Fuck. I don't like it, but I can't bring myself to totally ruin this special moment. I reach past Gary's hairy arm and pinch Mom's.
“It's okay. I'll get over it. It's just going to take some getting used to, that's all.” I try to be reassuring.
Gary clears his throat. “Yes, well, I apologize again for dropping this on you without any formal notice. It was a whirlwind, Claire. One thing I'm never going to be sorry for is putting a ring on this little lady's finger. I hope you understand – we're really in love. I'm going to take the very best care of your mother.”
They lean in and kiss. There's that stupid head shake again. My prim, upbeat, and always guarded mother is acting like a goddamned teenager. It's seriously freaking me out.
I lift my hand and summon the waiter over for more water while the two love birds are at it. Mom doesn't even look up while I order a glass of good Malbec and another pitcher. Like, an entire pitcher of water, just for me.
“I don't get it,” I say, stopping until they're both looking at me again. “Gary, you mentioned something about media? Jesus, I thought this whole thing was about my mom's Senate campaign.”
Mom smiles and pushes a finger to her lips. “That's our little secret, baby. And it's one I'm not ready for quite yet myself.”
Gary looks at her and winks. “Come on, Mandy. I think I know all about your ambitions, and I'm right behind you all the way. You're going to make us all proud.”
Mandy – fucking Mandy? Is he serious? Nobody's called my mom anything besides Amanda or Miss Frost or Representative for as long as I can remember!
“Gary!” Mom clucks her tongue.
“Just teasing, dear, I'm sure that decision's a few years off. Your mother was talking about my own little paparazzi issues, Claire,” Gary says as I start massaging my temples. “Since 1997, I've been the founder and CEO of –“
“Spree,” I cut in. “Fucking Spree. Of course.”
Mom gives me a stern look at my language. Whatever. It's just as well because my wine shows up along with two other glasses they must've ordered before I arrived. Perfect distraction.
“We've been using your site since I was a kid,” I continue. “God. Your company's a household name. That must mean you're loaded, right?”
Mom's mouth drops open. Gary laughs and clinks his glass gently against hers, giving the sparkly champagne inside it a swirl. “It's okay, Mandy. Th
e girl deserves some slack. It's not every day your mother marries a billionaire online mogul without warning.”
Christ. He can say that again. I have to stop and drink half my Malbec before I'm able to speak again.
“So, how long have you guys been dating?”
“It's been – what? – seven or eight months?” Mom looks at Gary and smiles. “We actually met at the big industry dinner in DC about a year ago. Gary came to me personally for some help moving things forward in Washington. I was on my way out and happy to take some risk with his drive to grow Spree because it meant more jobs and more revenue. One thing led to another and...well, here we are today.”
Yeah, here we are. Just where the hell is here?
I can't place myself in this reality anymore after they both set off this bombshell in my face. What's really insane is how sure and lovey-dovey they seem. At first, I thought it might be a marriage of convenience, something old people with years in business and government do. America doesn't have blue bloods, but it definitely has aristocrats.
And yet, the man sitting across from me with his brilliant features and graying hair is a much different kind of royalty than anything we've ever been. A Congresswoman's salary doesn't mean insta-millionaire, especially when she's not taking kickbacks. Mom stayed fairly clean for a politician.
Her new hubby, on the other hand, is a billionaire. Billion with a capital B. I can't fathom it, but I'm going to have to try.
This is the new normal, isn't it?
“Claire, are you sure you're okay?” Gary's tone is almost fatherly.
Holy shit. Fatherly. That's right – he's officially my new step-father, something that didn't hit me in the face until now. Staring at the huge diamonds on Mom's finger helps drive it home too when she turns her hand and they catch the light.
“I'm fine. I'll be okay, I mean. It's just a lot to take in after a long night out.”
“Of course it is, honey. Don't worry. We'll all mull this over at a big family dinner soon enough. I just wanted to give you a chance to find out in a nice, relaxed atmosphere.”
Ha ha, Mom's so funny today. The way my heart's beating, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to relax again. I look at Gary, narrowing my eyes.
