TartNTiny: Good. I'd pay to see that, you know. I have to say it again though.
KhloeKapers: What?
TartNTiny: You're perfect for each other.
KhloeKapers: Give it a rest. Neither one of us wants a relationship right now.
TartNTiny: Horse shite.
KhloeKapers: He said it on my first day, something about not getting any ideas about being Mrs Rothington.
TartNTiny: He says that to everyone, love. And why is there no middle ground between casual fucking like wild apes and marriage? There should be some sort of dating in there somewhere.
KhloeKapers: I don't think Anaconda wants to date me.
TartNTiny: Why would you say that?
KhloeKapers: Well, he took me to the lake house this weekend, but on the way back he made some comments about the perks of working his ‘stiff'. I still shagged him. *whispers* I was even on top.
TartNTiny: Reed Rodeo?
KhloeKapers: Reed Rodeo.
TartNTiny: That would be a cool reality show. The Reed Rothington Rodeo. Saddle up! How did you get to the fucking? That's the detail I want.
KhloeKapers: The first time? You wouldn't believe it. After Brandy pulled the fire alarm we were outside in the alley and we did it there.
TartNTiny: You did NOT.
KhloeKapers: I did. Right there against the wall. That was after the firemen who came to clear the floor found Reed with his mouth full and me spread out on his desk like a porn star.
TartNTiny: NO! Tell me more.
Khloe Kapers: I will not. Not until you come home.
TartNTiny: Khloe! You cow. Come on.
KhloeKapers: Nope.
TartNTiny: Fine. I see how you are. I'm languishing here with my sick mum and you won't spill.
KhloeKapers: Languishing? My ass. I bet your mum is running you ragged. How is she doing?
TartNTiny: Actually, I was wondering how you'd feel if I brought her back with me. I know it's a lot to ask.
KhloeKapers: Not really. She's your mum. Of course you have to bring her back. She's using your closet, though.
TartNTiny: You'll be living with Reed soon anyway and then she can have your closet. Love you, tart!
KhloeKapers: Love you too, hooker. Even though you fibbed to me about Reed keeping your job open.
TartNTiny has signed off.
Of course she had. The shit. But Khloe loved her and she knew that, as crazy as Bree was, it was only because Bree thought she was doing something for both Reed and Khloe. It was hard to be mad at her for that.
TartNTiny should change her name to TartNCrazy! Living with Reed? That was some heavy shit, to be blunt. She didn't want to live with anybody but Bree. What was she thinking? Aside from the fact there would be more room in the apartment with Khloe gone.
How would Bree manage the rent?
A more pressing question was how Khloe would manage Reed. That was a little bit more up front and centre, considering the rent would only be an issue if Khloe and Reed ended up somewhere near co-habitation in the future.
Khloe had issues with five-year car loans. Made her palms itch and the rest of her body sweat like she'd run a marathon. That was the real reason she lived in New York, so she didn't need a car and could avoid the commitment of a loan.
Further, Khloe only used temporary hair dye that washed out in a perfect thirty-two shampoos. Everyone knew it was always more like ten. No long-term commitment.
Hell, she only bought groceries for three days at a time. That way she could change her mind or, if she decided she didn't like what she'd bought, it wasn't like she had to eat it.
She'd known Reed for a week. It was time for another grocery shopping trip, but she really liked what was already in the fridge. At least as far as he was concerned.
He'd forcibly removed her, kicking and screaming, from her prude shell in that week. Her last boyfriend hadn't been able to do it in a year. Cripes, but that year had felt like the longest of her life. She'd stayed with him because she'd felt like she was supposed to, because she thought it was time to be ‘grown up’ but she'd been so miserable. Khloe didn't want this to turn into a ‘thing’ where they'd be all awkward. Shit! Was that why he'd left? He'd bagged it and tagged it and was ready to move on?
No, she was being silly. He'd kissed her when he'd left.
But he hadn't said anything about seeing her again.
Then again, she'd been half asleep. Was the man supposed to force her to whip out her date book and pencil in the next week's activities? Breakfast with Reed at nine on Monday, work with Reed, show Reed I can suck a golf ball through a garden hose at eleven on Tuesday...
She'd just have to be patient and see if he'd call.
No, when he'd call. Not if. When. Positive thinking.
Why had he left, though? What was so freaking pressing he'd had to leave the warmth of her bed and couldn't sleep in to assure her of—she smirked. Khloe had confirmed his schedule herself. She could just pull the thing up and see what exactly it was that had taken him away from her today.
Not that he was hers or anything. Or that she wanted to hang out with him all day. Or... Or she was a goddamn psycho and needed to stop obsessing.
She lay in the bed and looked up at the ceiling.
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow.
She pulled the sheet over her head.
When she started envisioning scenarios with Brandy was when Khloe surrendered and flipped her laptop back open to look at his schedule. She hated herself the whole time she was doing it, but apparently, she'd get no peace until it was done.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Ten
Pukey Perfection
* * * *
Khloe had no problem accessing the mainframe from home and his schedule popped up obediently. He had a meeting with a Claire, which had been highlighted in red. Who was Claire?
Not that she was jealous or anything.
Okay, she was jealous. How dare he shag her blue and leave her bed for another woman? She scribbled down the address and...saw he'd already written it down and left it by her phone.
Get a grip on yourself, Khloe, girl. You're spazzing right the fuck out. This is why men think women are crazy. Because they are. You're crazier than a bed bug right now. Look at yourself.
Khloe tried to take a quick inventory of herself, but couldn't get past the part where he wanted her to go with him to his meeting with Claire. Still didn't explain who Claire was, but the fact he wanted her to go made her unreasonably happy. “And wear something bright,” the note had said. What did it matter what she wore? Was she going to get stuck with clown duty or something?
She wriggled into her jeans, then stopped. Khloe wasn't sure what she was walking into. She should consider a shower before showing up with her hair in tangles and stinking of really good sex. What if Claire was his mother?
Khloe took a deep breath and rummaged through her closet until she found a pretty white retro dress with big cherries all over it. It was something she'd bought on a whim—well, more on Bree's whim. She'd insisted the dress would be perfect for her and Bree knew her better than she knew herself sometimes.
Then she eyed Bree's closet. Her very best friend wouldn't want her to go to this thing with shoes that didn't match, she was sure of it. Khloe picked through Bree's shoeboxes until she found a pair of red espadrilles. Perfect.
Khloe spent a little extra effort on her hair, too, taking the time to do finger waves to complete the retro look.
Half an hour later, the car service waiting for her. If nothing else, Reed Rothington was considerate. She didn't even have to give the address to the driver—he knew where to take her.
When they pulled up to the address, it was a neat little brownstone with well-manicured evergreen trees in twin pots on either side of the entryway. She knocked on the door and, when it opened, she was surprised and not a little ashamed by what she saw.
There were kids everywhere! No clowns, thank
God. Hopefully, they weren't waiting for her. There were frosted cupcakes and toys and games. Kids were running and playing, and they were laughing.
What made her ashamed was she knew most of them were sick, because some of their bodies were emaciated and wasted, hollows around their eyes and sunken cheeks. But their mouths were smiling as they played.
Khloe felt like the world's biggest asshole.
She'd been suspicious and jealous because Reed had got up early to hang out with sick children. Oh yeah, that was a big, black mark in the ‘burn in hell’ column.
"Hi,” a thin girl with large blue eyes said as she grabbed her hand.
Khloe wasn't so good with touching by people she didn't know. What kind of tool wouldn't hold a kid's hand? Probably the same kind that went to hell for being a suspicious bitch.
She smiled. “I bet you're Khloe."
"How did you know?"
"Reed said you'd be the prettiest one here.” The girl grinned, revealing large, big-girl teeth, but for the space of the two on the bottom. She stuck her tongue through the hole. “And he said you'd look the most lost, but he says that's part of your charm."
"Nice."
"Yeah, he's a good guy. I hope you'll take care of my uncle."
"Reed is your uncle? I didn't know,” Khloe said, still following her lead.
"Well, of course you didn't. I just told you.” She grinned again. “I'm Claire."
"It's nice to meet you, Claire.” So Claire was his niece. This girl had leukaemia. “Reed said he called you Sunny."
"He did not,” she sounded scandalised. “Sunny sounds like a little girl's name. Claire is the name of a woman."
"Sunny because you bring sunshine into his life."
"That doesn't mean he has to tell everyone. I suppose I'll let him get away with it. It's awfully hard to tell him no, isn't it?” Claire grinned again.
"It certainly is."
"I got roped into letting Brandy come. I didn't want to, but he said she's the president of the charity that pays for treatment for the kids who can't afford it. He said it with that look he gets and then smiled at me with his ‘Rothington Charm', as mother calls it."
"I wouldn't have thought she'd bother. She must have thought that's what she was supposed to do if she wanted to marry your uncle.” Khloe realised as soon as it was out of her mouth that it probably wasn't the thing to say. She bit her lip.
Claire smiled bigger. “We're on the same team here, Khloe-belle.” She said the last as if ‘Bell’ wasn't her surname but part of her first name. “Did you know that belle means pretty in French?"
"You're already taking French? You're a smart kid."
"I take French, Italian and Latin. I want to be a doctor. I hope to take Swahili next year."
"What would you do with Swahili?” Khloe asked with a laugh. She enjoyed talking to Claire. She really was like a bright ray of sun. It broke Khloe's heart that she was sick.
"Don't make the pity face.” Claire scowled.
"No, I wasn't. You're just as sunny as your uncle said you'd be, is all."
The corner of Claire's mouth curled up in a grin that was a doppelganger for Reed's. “I'll let you off with that one. Don't do it again."
"I won't. But tell me, what will you do with Swahili?"
"Doctors Without Borders. I want to help more kids like me. Brandy said she thought I should take business management to do her job when I graduate, but handing out money is easy.” She paused and studied Khloe for a long moment. “I like your hair,” the little girl said wistfully.
"Thanks."
Claire wrapped one of the long tresses around her finger. “Can I have it?” she asked quietly.
"What?” Khloe asked, startled.
"Well, you know that whole Locks of Love thing? You could donate your hair to me.” Claire smiled, then laughed. “The look on your face is priceless, you know that? I was kidding. I'm fine with being bald. Really. Less wasted water in the shower. Help the planet and all that. Plus the doctors say that sunshine is good for me. I get lots of sun shining right on my dome.” Claire tapped herself on the top of her head. “Keeps me sunny.” She laughed.
Khloe was so moved by her request, she decided to give her hair to her. It was a simple thing, a small thing, and if it meant that much to the girl, she could have it. “You know what? If you really want it, it's yours."
Claire stopped and turned back around just as they reached the doors to the back yard.
"You mean that, don't you?"
Khloe was suddenly uncomfortable. “Sure, yeah. Why not?"
"I asked Brandy the same thing and she looked like I'd tried to get her to eat something out of the litter box."
"If I'd known you wanted it, I could have pulled it out,” Khloe said conspiratorially.
"I think hateful energy would come with her hateful hair. I don't want it,” Claire said. “And it's blonde. I know for a fact my uncle prefers brunettes,” she teased.
"I see you've met Claire,” Reed said as he opened the patio door and stepped inside.
"I did. We've come to a little business arrangement,” Khloe replied with a smile.
"Yep. I traded you for her hair, Uncle Reed. Hope you're good with that,” Claire said and snatched a cupcake before wandering off with her friends.
"I guess I'm okay with that. Are you okay with that?” Reed eyed Khloe carefully.
"I don't know if I'm keeping you, but sure, Claire can have my hair."
He handed her a cupcake and she promptly shoved it in her mouth.
"Whoa, leave the hand. I'll buy you lunch as soon as we're done."
"Actually, I'd like to buy you lunch,” she managed around the chocolate goodness.
"That's not how it's done,” Reed said playfully.
"Sure it is. I still have your credit card.” She tapped him on the chest for emphasis.
"Now that is how it's done."
"That's how what's done, darling?” Brandy said as she crossed the patio to them.
Brandy looked perfectly coiffed, her blonde hair in soft, luxuriant curls and her lime bangles that matched her lime sandals banging together on her slender wrist. The rest of her outfit was comprised of white silk cargo pants and a loose blouse. It irked Khloe that she could look so put together and so relaxed at the same time. Just looking at her made Khloe feel her lipstick was too bright, her teeth too big and her dress too short. The woman made her itchy in her own skin and she didn't like it.
"Khloe is taking me out to lunch.” Reed sounded very proud of himself, like a kid who'd coloured within the lines for the first time.
"On your credit card, I assume,” Brandy said knowingly. She looked Khloe up and down and obviously found her lacking. “It's not a gift when you buy something for him with his own money, dear."
"Of course it is,” Reed spoke up. “I get the gift of watching my woman eat, knowing her body is being nourished by the fruits of my labours. It doesn't get any better than that."
Reed's words sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. It was hard not to lick her lips in anticipation. Harder still not to focus on his word choice.
Brandy rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion and looked at Khloe again. “For your sake, sweetie, I hope you're not buying that drivel. He may play in the mud with you, but when it's time for forever, we keep to our own."
"You're right,” Khloe said before Reed could rush to her defence. “You should keep to your own. And Reed is nothing like you. He supports this charity because he cares and you do it for social standing. Claire told me she asked you for your hair and you wouldn't even consider it."
"If I said yes to every bald brat who asked, I wouldn't have any of my own."
Khloe shook her head in disgust. “Reed, thanks for inviting me to meet Claire, but I have to go. I have your credit card and a hair appointment to make."
"Khloe,” he began.
"Don't think just because you cut your hair for his niece he'll be any more likely to keep you longer than the
others. Girls cut off parts of their feet for the prince in Cinderella and it got them nowhere,” Brandy replied with sharp malice.
"That's just it, Brandy. I'm not doing it for Reed. I'm doing it because that's what I have to give and I'm happy to give it. Some people do that, you know. Not everyone is out for the win.” Khloe shook her head and pushed through the door back into the house.
"Khloe?” Claire asked as she made a beeline for the front door.
"Yeah?” She didn't know why she felt like crying, but the tears were brewing behind her eyes. She had to get out of there.
"Where are you going? You just got here."
"Um, I'm going to get my hair cut. Right now, so you don't have to wait."
"That would be cool if that were really the reason, but I think Brandy was nasty to you."
"Maybe a bit, but I wouldn't let her run me off.” Was that what she was doing? Letting Brandy McBitcherson tell her where she could go or what she could do?
"Good. Because I need warrior-woman hair. Remember what I said about the energy? I really believe that."
"Me, too.” Khloe wasn't running, she was living to fight another day.
"I meant what I said about giving Reed to you. Look at his face. Now he's upset. You don't want him to be unhappy, do you? Since he's yours, your job is to look after him and make sure he never makes that face again. I'll tell him you're waiting for him and he can take you to get my hair. Okay?” Claire spoke as if Khloe was the child and she the adult.
Reed was already walking inside the house when Claire went to get him.
"Khloe, I'm sorry about Brandy. I didn't realise she'd be so cruel,” Reed said as he caught up with her.
"No, it's fine. She's the sad little person who needs to pull fire alarms to get attention."
"That's what we were talking about when you left. Otherwise, I would have been in right after you."
"I didn't leave so you had to, Reed. I just didn't want to deal with her and I choose not to."
"Bree would have hit her,” Reed whispered conspiratorially.
"Don't think it didn't occur to me. If Claire really wanted her hair, I might have been persuaded to rip it out."
He put his arm around her waist. “Sunny has given us permission to leave. If you were serious about your hair—"
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