“A friend of mine works at this super cool club in SoHo. He said they were looking for a bartender. You interested?”
“Until I can find the real thing, I’ll take any job.”
“Any job?” He slaps my ass, then laughs.
“You’re not funny, Eric.”
“Yeah, but think of the money you could be pulling in.”
The restaurant is already humming when we get inside. We don’t open for another thirty minutes, but we get to work preparing the tables. Eric lets me know on Saturday the busy times can vary some. He’s right. Today is like a never-ending revolving door, with people coming and going. There is barely time to breathe. When our shift finally ends, my butt is dragging.
“You ready to go?” Eric asks, his voice all cheery.
“Are you not dead?”
“No, why?”
“That about killed me.”
“Aw, you’ll get used to it. So what … a train or an Uber to Brooklyn?” he asks.
“The train. It’s faster.”
He grabs my arm and off we go. When we get to my neighborhood, he says, “Fuck me, Viv, why didn’t you tell me to bring a gun?”
“Because someone would steal it from you and use it to shoot you.”
“Okay, then pepper spray.”
“Pepper spray doesn’t work for gangs. Just shut up and hurry.” We make it upstairs and he sags against the wall in relief.
“I’m having a heart attack. I don’t think I can go back out there. This place is awful. How could you sleep here?”
“I got used to it.”
He shudders and I laugh. “Stop it, you nerd. It’s not that bad. There could be rats and stuff.”
“Ack.” He lets out a screech and I crack up.
“Come on.” I open the closet door and pull out two suitcases, handing him one. “Fill it up.”
“I didn’t believe you, but you were right.”
“Yeah, the only things I bought after I moved were a couple of lamps, the electric burner, and I think that’s it. Living with you will be like living in the Taj Mahal.”
“Good thing these suitcases are huge.”
We cram them full, placing the entire contents of the apartment inside, which are mainly clothes and shoes. I have a few towels, some sheets, dishes, and glass items that we wrap the towels around, and some pictures. A couple hours later, we’re dragging the suitcases downstairs, along with the lamps, into the waiting Uber. I left the old TV and space heater behind to the next poor sucker who rents this miserable shithole.
On the way to my new home, Eric says, “Glad we made it out of there alive.”
“Who the hell would want my shit? It’s not worth a dime.”
“They wouldn’t know that until after they killed us.”
I chuckle. “Can you imagine their disappointment? Killing us over a pile of worthless crap.”
“Hey, Viv, this stuff means something to you, though.”
With a slight shrug I say, “I suppose.”
“How’d you end up at an expensive boarding school? I know it had to cost a shit-ton, if Beckham went there.”
“It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you over a glass of wine. No, make that a bottle or two.”
“That bad, huh?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I have a good shoulder if you ever need one.”
When I turn to look him in the eye, I notice through the streetlights illuminating the interior of the car, the kindness radiating from his face. He pats my leg and pulls me against his side. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here, just so you know.”
“Thanks, Eric. I appreciate that.”
We unload my stuff and tote it upstairs. Eric laughs at me when I attach the little motor to my mattress and blow it up. “You’ll see. This thing is really great.”
After it’s blown up, I put on the sheets that I located in one of the bags. Eric walks back in and hands me a few blankets. “Here. I noticed you only had one. Just in case you get cold.”
I jump up and hug him. “Thank you.” I don’t tell him how I slept in front of the space heater to stay warm at night. It might freak him out.
“Okay, give it a test and tell me what you think.”
He lies down on it and grins. “Not too bad really.”
“See. Told ya.”
“Since we don’t have any shifts tomorrow and it’s still early for a Saturday night, do you want to go and grab a pizza? I know this great place and I’m starved. And it’s only a couple of blocks from the club I was telling you about. We can stop there afterward and I’ll introduce you if you’d like.”
“Yes! I’m hungry, too, and that sounds great.”
We throw our coats on and go. The restaurant is busy but not extremely so. We place our order and grab a booth as we drink our beers.
Eric likes to chat and tells me he’s from a small town outside of the city. He has a brother and sister, and his dad is an attorney. “Mom stayed at home while we were growing up, but when we got to high school, she pursued her passion for interior design. That’s how I became interested in it. She’d bring home fabric and paint samples and I went crazy. I begged her to bring me along on jobs. So I studied it in college.”
“That’s pretty cool. Why didn’t you go to work with her?”
“Because she’s in the burbs and I want to be here. I want to make a name for myself—you know, on the commercial side of it with real estate developers.”
“I guess this is the place to be then.”
They call out our order number and Eric goes to grab it. The pizza is delicious and we practically inhale it. When we finish, we walk over to the club.
It’s a really cool place with a mixed crowd of twenty and thirty somethings. Eric takes me to the bar and introduces me to Lucas. He’s tall, blond, and totally hot. Blue eyes the color of the sea draw me in and I feel my mouth curving into a huge smile.
“Hi, I’m Vivienne.”
“Nice to meet you. How much experience do you have?”
“Absolutely none.”
His mouth drops open a bit. Clearly he wasn’t expecting that response. “We get super busy in here late and I need someone who can keep up.”
I jump in and say, “I can learn. Fast. Ask Eric. He just trained me.”
“She’s right. She mastered the art of waiting tables in four days. You know how busy we get.”
He taps his fingers on the bar. “You probably waited tables in college or something. Everybody’s done that before, at least once.”
“I never had.”
“Never?” His eyes narrow as he assesses me.
“Not once. The truth is I’m looking for a job in IT. My degree’s in Computer Science and Engineering and I’m trying to get back into my field. Until then, I need the money.”
“You really are a quick study then?” he asks. His skepticism appears to be fading.
“Eric can attest to it.”
“I’ll give you a trial run for a few days. If you can’t pick it up, I’ll have to let you go. We’ll do some week nights when we’re not as busy.”
“Perfect. When can I start?”
“We’re closed on Sunday. Is Monday good?”
“Monday’s perfect.” Lucas and I shake hands and that’s that. I have job number two. And then I think of something. “Hey, Lucas, if I find my real job, I’ll give you fair warning, too.”
“Thanks, Vivienne.”
“Call me Vivi.”
Eric and I order a drink to toast my second job. “Thank you. You’ve been such a big help to me already.”
“You’re welcome. Here’s to a long and fruitful friendship.”
We clink our glasses together and drink. As Eric swallows, his eyes bulge. At first I think he’s choking, but when I go to slap his back, he waves me off.
“You okay? I thought you were choking. I was getting ready to administer the Heimlich.”
He doesn’t answer, only stares. And the
n I know why. The heat warms me from behind and I know exactly who’s standing there.
Without turning, I say, “Hello, Prescott. Care to join us?”
Chapter 14
Prescott
I walk into my favorite club, and who should I find sitting at the bar but Vivi and her new little pal. It seems everything in my life is centering around her these days. Not only is she fucking taking over my thoughts, but now she’s also invading my hangouts. She’s probably going to be using my personal stylist, massage therapist, and shopping in the same stores I frequent before I even know it. Fuck, how will I cope? Isn’t that the question of the year?
Her little friend stares at me like he either wants to run or fuck me. No, wait, that’s not it … he’s not sure how to tell her I’m here. It makes me curious as to what she’s told him about me. Probably that I’m a giant prick, which would be accurate. Let’s see if I can live up to my description.
“I’d love to join you two, Vivi. Is this your new roommate? Eric, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Eric, this is Prescott. Prescott, meet Eric.” We shake hands and I give him the death grip. He winces. Vivi kicks me. I give her my most charming grin.
“So, how was the move from your elegant apartment, Vivi?”
“No need to be nasty. It was fine.” Her lower lip sticks out a bit and I want to bite it.
“Are you nice and settled? All homey-like?” I wiggle my brows.
“What’s up with you? Why are you being such a jerk?” she asks.
“Just living up to your opinion of me, I suppose. Eric, what type of business are you in? Besides the waiting tables thing. Or is that your lifelong ambition?”
“Prescott,” she huffs.
“It’s fine, Vivi. Actually, no. I’m an interior designer trying to get my business going.”
“Ah, I see. Like that’s a unique field.”
“All right. I think we’d better leave, Eric. This place has become a little too nasty for my taste.”
As she stands, I grab her wrist. “Eric, why don’t you run along like a good little boy and let Vivi stay.”
“Let’s get something straight, Prescott. Nobody makes decisions for me. Now let go.”
I unclamp my fingers and she straightens. “Come on, Eric.”
I watch as they walk to the opposite end of the bar and speak with the blond bartender who’s in here all the time. Eric pays for the drinks and they leave. I really was a bastard, but this is my hangout and maybe they’ll think twice about coming back in. I’ve also successfully burned all my bridges with her. It’s probably for the best. No use in keeping any hopes open. I’ve thought about it since last night and realized that Vivienne Renard will never give me a chance no matter what I do. So I may as well let her see the man she thinks I am.
I sit at the table, crushed by my own actions. Eric is a nice guy, no doubt. Vivi wouldn’t be hanging out with him if he weren’t. I reminded myself of my father then, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow. Anything remotely similar to him makes me cringe.
“Hey, mind if I join you?” Glancing up, a redhead with big tits leans toward me. She wears a low cut shirt that exposes even more of her ample cleavage. They’re globe-shaped and shoved high toward her chin, an indication that her boobs are artificial. High-profile is the term I’ve heard used to describe them and these definitely fit the bill. If they were any higher, they’d bump her in the nose.
She doesn’t wait for an answer before sitting down and moving into my space, a space I hadn’t intended on sharing.
“Actually, I sort of wanted to be alone.”
“Oh. Rough night, huh.”
“Something like that.”
“Maybe I can take the edge off for you.” She offers me a knowing smile, but I’m not in the mood. Funny thing, I haven’t been in the mood ever since I saw Vivi in that fucking coffee shop.
“I’m sure you could,” I say noncommittally.
“And I’m damn good. You’d be a happy man for a long time.” She licks her lips.
Nodding, I say, “Yeah, I bet. But not tonight, sweetheart. It’s not in the cards for me.”
“No? Why?”
“It just isn’t.”
She scoots her chair close and before I know it her hand is on my dick, but it’s as limp as a sock. She paws it a little until I move her hand away.
“Like I said, not happening.”
“Too bad. We could’ve made some beautiful memories.”
I almost laugh at her line. Maybe she should come up with something original.
When she’s gone, I move to a different seat, one where there isn’t a vacant chair next to me, so I don’t have to deal with that shit anymore. If I want to fuck someone, it’s going to be on my terms no matter how hot the woman is. A few hours later and who knows how many drinks, I close my tab and leave.
“Thanks, Mr. Beckham,” the bartender says.
“You bet.”
The chilly air slaps a little sobriety back into me and along with it comes a lot of regret over the way I acted toward Vivi and Eric. He’s just a nice guy trying to make it in this world, which I know nothing about, and I was a royal shithead to him. I was born into wealth and have no idea what it’s like to struggle financially, like Vivi does. What would it be like not to know where your next meal comes from? Or how you were going to pay your rent? The thought is even more sobering than the cold air around me. Now I’m kicking myself in my own stupid ass for not getting Eric’s full name. I could’ve gotten to be friends with him and found a way to help Vivi through him. Maybe it’s not too late. I do know which restaurant they work in and I have a top-notch security team that can find out anything. I file that away for Monday morning.
When I get home, I pull out my bowl and pack it with a bud. The alcohol wasn’t exactly my tonic, so I need a little extra to take off the edge. All I can see are Vivi’s mouth and eyes. Her lips were as red and plump as a summer strawberry and her irises reminded me of a storm filled sky. I fill my lungs with smoke and hope the weed will ease my tension.
I stare at the skyline, but her image doesn’t go away. She’s hot as fuck—the sexiest woman I’ve laid my eyes on in months, maybe ever. And every time I close them, an image of her pops into view.
I want to punch the wall because no matter what I try, she’ll have nothing to do with me. This is the first time in my life I’m at a loss where a woman is concerned. Usually they fall at my feet. Not her. She doesn’t give a shit about anything I have to offer her. And the craziest thing of all is she needs it the most.
Even in my fucked-up stoned mind, the clarity of her face is so damn vivid I can almost feel her smooth skin beneath my palms. But it’s only a fantasy and will remain one unless I come up with some ingenious plan that will win her over. The only thing I can think of is to get her friend Eric on my side and after tonight that’s going to be as difficult as winning Vivi over. I laugh at the joke of my life. Here I sit, king of Manhattan. And yet the only thing I want is as far from my reach as the fucking moon.
In the morning, I wake up with my face smashed into the cushion of the couch. Seems the weed must’ve taken effect after all and conked me out before I could make it to bed. Pain radiating down my neck and into my back tells me exactly how I slept—completely scrunched up and contorted in a bad way.
My first stop is the fridge for a bottle of Gatorade. I’d like to hit the shower to loosen up the kinks in my muscles, but I’ll save that for later. Next on the list is a monster workout. My home gym is equipped with everything I need. I hit the treadmill for an hour and sweat out the alcohol. Next I lift weights until my muscles are fatigued and lose their proper form. Now I make a giant protein shake and hit the shower. I’m beginning to feel like a human again. It’s a good thing because I’m supposed to be at my grandparents’ for dinner in an hour and it takes about that long to get there. I get dressed and leave.
Traffic is light and my grandmother is waiting for me when I pull up. There’s no woman on Ear
th I adore more than her. Small in stature, she barely reaches my chest as her arms wrap around me in a fierce hug. She’s strong for being so slight in physique. Her silver gray hair gleams in the sunlight and every time I see her I’m reminded of how much she’s done for me, always going out of her way to help me, especially after everything with Mom.
“How’s my boy doing?” Her question interrupts my rambling thoughts.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
She inspects me. “You’re not taking care of yourself, Scotty. Are you eating?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“And sleep?”
“I’m sleeping fine, Grand.” I take her hand as we walk inside.
“Why don’t I believe you?” Doubt crinkles the corners of her eyes.
“Probably because you’re perceptive and know me better than anyone.”
“What’s wrong then, honey? Please don’t tell me it’s your father.”
“Partly.” And then I decide to seek her opinion. “You know what, maybe you can help. There’s this girl.”
Her eyes shine like the stars and maybe this wasn’t such a good idea to bring her into this. “There is?”
“Yes, but that’s the problem. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Not you?”
“Yeah, Grand, me.”
My grandmother thinks the sun rises and sets with me. She has no idea what a douche I am.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing.” I chuckle.
“You’re a little shit, Scotty.” She squeezes the hand she still holds.
“I know. And that’s the problem. She sees right through me.”
“Let’s sit down and talk this one out, shall we?” We take a seat in her favorite room, the sun porch. It overlooks the back of their property and offers quite a view of rolling hills with a creek running through. Grand loves to garden, so in the spring and summer there are lots of flowers everywhere. “Who is she?”
“Someone I used to know from Crestview.”
“Really?”
“But we never hung out or anything. You might say she was the ugly duckling that turned into the gorgeous swan.”
Chasing Vivi Page 12
