P.I.T.A. (L.A. Liaisons Book 3)

by Brooke Blaine

  Hmm. Maybe I should go check and make sure we were good and there would be no awkwardness. Last night had been a…tension release…of sorts. So, yes, I should definitely go check on him…and not because I was looking for an encore or anything. Although, if there was more where last night came from, I’d be tempted to proposition him with an occasional fuck buddies pass.

  Carefully opening my door a crack, I peered down the hall, and when I didn’t see Shayne or any of the household staff that were due this morning roaming about, I tiptoed out and knocked softly on his door. When there was no answer, I knocked a bit harder. Still nothing.

  Moving my hand to the door handle, I slowly turned it to the right and—

  “He’s already gone,” my housekeeper, Adeline, said, causing me to jump and take my hand off the handle. She’d backed into the foyer, her head down and following the back-and-forth of her mop as she cleaned the hardwood.

  “What? Who?” I asked.

  Adeline stopped and pointed at the room I stood in front of. “Mr. Dawson has already left.”

  “Oh.” Part of me was relieved at that. The other part was feeling antsy to make sure he knew that was a one-off and wouldn’t be happening again. Well…maybe not a one-off, since it’d happened before, but since this was the time I remembered, it might as well be the first. “Did he, uh…say where he was going?”

  “No, he did not leave his messages with me.”

  “Right…of course not,” I said, watching her dunk the mop into the soapy water and then scrub at the floor. Oh God, the mess that poor woman had to deal with. “Shit, Adeline, I’m so sorry the dining room was wrecked—”

  “The dining room, the kitchen, the hallway, the foyer…” She waved me off. “Hurricane Paige rolled through. All fine.”

  You have no idea…

  “Well, thank you,” I said, clutching my robe shut as I made my way around her to the opposite wing of the house. “I’m gonna go…check on Shayne.”

  When she gave a grunt in response, I figured that meant she didn’t have much to say to that, and it also meant Shayne was indeed home. No doubt my friend was scarred for life this morning, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t accidentally walked in on her and Nate fooling around on the couch before. No big deal. Right? Right.

  Her door was half-open, and I gave a couple of quick knocks before pushing it wide to see her folding a pair of jeans and then placing it in the suitcase laid out on her bed.

  “Ooh, you going on some island getaway with your boy toy?” I said, glancing over the items she had left to pack. “I don’t see any bikinis in this pile.”

  Shayne laughed. “You know I don’t like to wear bikinis, Paige.” She went over to her closet and pulled out another suitcase.

  “Um…is this a month-long vacay or something? Why do you need so much stuff?”

  “Paige.” She let go of the suitcase and came over to take a hold of my shoulders. Shayne was tall, even barefoot, and I had to crane my neck to look up at her. “I think you and Dawson need some time on your own.”

  “Time on our own?” I repeated. “Explain.”

  “You know what I mean. You guys are in the honeymoon phase, and I think you deserve a bit of privacy.”

  “Are you moving out? This is some kind of joke, right?” My chest seized in panic. I didn’t want to lose one of my best friends as a roommate. I’d worked too hard to get her here in the first place. “If this is about last night, I swear that will never happen again.”

  She laughed and gave my shoulders a squeeze before going back to packing. “I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a part of it. Seeing my best friend splayed out like a dessert buffet isn’t exactly what I want to come home to.”

  My face scrunched in disgust. “Yeah, that’s not a great visual for me either. But let’s make one thing clear—one night of hot Nutella sex does not mean I’m in this for the long haul. As a matter of fact, it was a mistake and not something that will happen again. So can you please stay and—”

  “Serve as a barrier between you two? No thanks.” She closed the suitcase and zipped it shut before setting it on the floor. Then she lifted the empty one onto the bed to fill. “Don’t worry, I’m not moving out for good. I’m just gonna stay with my guy for a little while. You guys need some…space.”

  “But…we have space. Four thousand square feet of space. I think that’s more than enough. Waaaay more than enough.”

  “Paige. You know I love you.”

  “You can’t leave me in this big house with him alone. Shayne, please. We might do really bad things to each other.”

  “Aww, scared the big, bad Dick will get you? I think you might like that.” Shayne laughed again. “You’ll be okay. Hell, maybe more than okay. Now you have free rein to use whatever concoctions in the kitchen you can come up with.”

  “What about our movie nights?”

  “Temporarily on hold, but will be back with a vengeance.”

  “Okay,” I said, not feeling good about the whole thing at all. What if she decided she liked living with Nate better? What if they ran off and got married like I had?

  That was it. I needed to buy a house big enough to fit all the girls and their significant others.

  When she caught the lost-puppy expression on my face, she put down the shirt she was rolling and wrapped her arms around me.

  “Oh, Pita,” she said, laying her head on top of mine. Then her voice lowered to a whisper. “You show that man what he’s been missing out on all these years. If anyone deserves a chance at love, it’s you. Promise me you’ll try.”

  Swallowing hard, I held on to her tighter. She didn’t know that was an impossible task. That there was no way Dawson and the word love would ever go together in the same sentence. But my hooker had good intentions, and it was in her job description to try to find a match for everyone in the world, so I could humor her for now, even if I wasn’t making any promises.

  When I pulled back from her, I squeezed her forearms as I said, “You know you can stay here forever and ever, right? No guy will ever take your place or Ryleigh’s place or Quinn’s place. You’re not trade-ins, dammit.”

  Shayne smiled and shook her head, her red curls falling over her shoulder. “I wish everyone got to see your heart of gold, woman.”

  “Aaand you can get the hell out now,” I said, giving her a gentle shove. “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way.”

  “Ah, now there’s the Paige I know.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are we all still meeting for brunch later?”

  “Mhmm, I’m just gonna drop these off at Nate’s first.”

  “Good,” I said, putting on a signature Paige grin for her benefit. “Now get out of my house. I have plans to fuck on every available surface, including your room, and I need all the free time I can get.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I Should Be Muzzled

  HAVE YOU EVER woken up and thought…I want a pancake or omelet as big as my ass? Of course you have, which makes the Griddle Cafe the place you want to be when those cravings hit. And that’s exactly where I was headed, for brunch and mimosas with the girls.

  I’d just pulled into the lot behind the cafe when my phone buzzed, and the number that lit up the phone was not the girls, or one of my clients. It was my father’s cell.

  “Hello,” I said, and the voice that greeted me back was not either of the two I’d expected.

  “Miss Paige?” Barry, my parents’ butler, was on the line instead, his voice tentative, like maybe he shouldn’t be calling me.

  “Yes, Barry, it’s me. Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am.”

  Silence.

  Okaay. “You doing all right yourself, Barry?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes, ma’am, doing fine.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  Silence.

  I cleared my throat. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Oh, no, ma’am,” he said, but this time he went on.
“Your parents wished me to inform you that the house will be turned over to its new owners on the morrow, and do come visit Paris in a few months once they’ve settled in.”

  As the news of their quicker-than-expected departure filled my ears, I found myself unable to form words.

  “Miss Paige? Miss Paige, are you there?”

  “I…I’m here. They sold the house?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And new people are moving in tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Did they… I mean, is my stuff still—”

  “Given away to the children’s charities of Los Angeles, yes, ma’am.”

  My eyes shuttered closed, and I rubbed my forehead to ward off the impending migraine. “All of it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Please stop calling me that.”

  “Yes, ma—Miss Paige.”

  They’d done it. They’d really fucking done it.

  They’d moved, sold, or given away everything, and then had Barry call to let me know. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to go through my old room to pick out any keepsakes I wanted. Nothing they did or didn’t do surprised me anymore, but it was one more hurt on a long list that I was tired of making marks on.

  “I appreciate you calling, Barry.”

  “You’re very welcome, Miss Paige. Hope to see you in Paris.”

  After hanging up, I made my way inside the elbow-room-only café in a daze, the girls having just been seated at one of the four-tops in the corner.

  “What can I get you?” the waiter asked, as I took the seat next to Quinn.

  A do-over day so I can tell off my parents while I take back all my old childhood memories, for starters.

  “Paige? You like the Golden Ticket pancakes, right?” Ryleigh said, apparently covering for the fact that I was lost in zombie land.

  I shook my head. “Just a French-pressed for me this morning. That’s all.”

  Quinn’s hand went to my forehead. “You don’t feel warm. Being sick is the only reason I can think of for why you wouldn’t order your favorite pancakes.”

  “Um…not really in the mood for anything sweet.” My quota on that had been filled last night for, oh, at least a couple of weeks.

  “What about some bacon? Sausage? You have to eat something,” Quinn said, going all mama bear on me. That was usually my job.

  When Shayne snorted, all eyes turned in her direction. “I think our Pita had enough to eat last night. Sweets? Check. Mega sausage? Check.”

  Quinn and Ryleigh let out gasps, and their heads whipped toward me.

  “You dirty bitch,” Ryleigh said. “Tell us everything.”

  “Yep, that’s me. Dirty bitch.” When I didn’t make a move to tell them more, Shayne filled them in on what she’d…err, fallen into last night.

  “You used the vibrator I gave you? I’m so proud!” Ryleigh said.

  Quinn nodded. “Sounds like an epic food fight. I approve.”

  “Mhmm.” I poured a cup of coffee, sans any creamer or sugar, and took a sip while the girls looked on in horror.

  “Okay, seriously, what’s with you? After that kind of night, I’d think you’d be high on endorphins,” Ryleigh said. “And you’re avoiding sugar now? That’s so wrong.”

  “You looked fine when I saw you earlier.” Shayne frowned and lowered her latte. “This isn’t about me leaving, is it?”

  From the lack of reaction on the other girls’ faces, it seemed she’d already spilled the news about that.

  I sighed. “It’s just… Can I launch into my Daddy-doesn’t-love-me speech for a minute?”

  “Uh oh,” Ryleigh said, resting her chin on her hands. “Spill.”

  I told them about the phone call I’d gotten in the parking lot, how it’d come from someone other than the two people it should’ve, how all my childhood memories were now packed up and sent off to become some other child’s memories, and why did I even care anymore?

  “Because they’re your parents and you’d feel like a bad person if you didn’t,” Shayne said, sitting back so the waitress could set some scrumptious Mama’s French Toast in front of her.

  “You know what’s crazy?” I said. “All I ever wanted growing up was a normal family. I wanted dinner at a set time every night, and I wanted both of my parents there. I wanted them to ask how my day was. To care enough to get upset when I kicked a kid in the groin after he stole the Debbie cake out of my lunchbox.”

  “Aww,” Quinn said, “and then somewhere along the way you became a jaded, cold-hearted bitch.”

  My head jerked in her direction. “Quinn.”

  Quinn slung her arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Aw. Sorry, this was beginning to sound a little Lifetime movie.”

  The other girls chuckled and began to cut into their food as I took another sip of my coffee, thinking over her words. Maybe Quinn had a point. A good point. Maybe it was time I did something other than whine and bitch about it.

  “Look, Paige, I’m just gonna say it. Fuck your parents,” Quinn said. “I know that’s the thing you’re not supposed to say, but if they don’t want to be a part of your life, then that’s their loss.”

  “I’m gonna have to agree with Quinn. You’ve got us, and you’ve got Dawson, so what the hell do you need anyone else for anyway?” Ryleigh said.

  “That’s right, you’ve got your own money, your own house—” Shayne stopped herself. “Okay, maybe you’ve got, like, half a house. You should probably do something about that.”

  Laughing, I poured more coffee into my cup, and this time I added a couple of sugars. “I’ll get on that, stat, thank you.”

  “This is the same tough-love speech you would give me. And it’s the same one you would’ve come to on your own eventually, but I figured I’d help speed up the healing process,” Quinn said.

  I laid my head on her shoulder. “I love you guys. You know that, right? I never really had proper girlfriends until I met you hookers. I always had—”

  “Dawson,” Shayne filled in.

  “Right,” I said. “So, thank you for accepting me even when I’m heinous and have no filter.”

  Shayne reached over and put her hand on top of mine. “We love you too. But don’t be surprised when your Christmas gift this year is a muzzle.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Screw Memory Lane

  AFTER HANGING WITH the girls, I found myself driving aimlessly around the city. Or what I thought was aimlessly, because my subconscious had a different idea. Before I knew it, I was driving up to the gate of the neighborhood I rarely visited. The lush, gated Beverly Hills community I grew up in was not somewhere I wanted to be nowadays, choosing to have any sort of forced family get-together or meal anywhere else, so the fact that I’d somehow steered myself in its direction was surprising.

  For at least the remainder of the day, I was still on the list of residents and family, and as I made my way past the gate attendant, I couldn’t quite pinpoint how that bit of information made me feel. Was I upset? Relieved to now be separated by an ocean from two of the most inconsiderate, incompetent parents known to man? Yeah. Maybe a little of both.

  Making a right, I drove past the tennis courts where I’d learned to play a pretty decent game, if only because the instructor had been a hot older guy I wanted to impress. And impress I did, though that love affair had turned disastrous. That had been the last time I’d allowed myself to get suckered into a relationship, and it had been Dawson’s advice that set me on the path to badass bitch self-discovery. Huh. I hadn’t thought about that in a while.

  Speaking of Dawson, his parents still lived in the mega mansion next door to the one my parents had just sold to the highest bidder, and, as I always did when I passed whether they saw it or not, I waved before pulling into my parents’ drive.

  My key still fit in the lock, and as I pushed open the front door for the last time, I found myself looking at a place I didn’t even recognize. When Barry had mentioned
everything had been moved out, I knew it was true, but it was different seeing it. Walking through the long corridor that was lit only by slices of the sun filtering in from half-open blinds, it felt nothing like the home I’d lived in for eighteen years. The kitchen was bare, bar the bigger appliances, and I remembered how many pastries their chef had let me steal from the counter when my parents would throw one of their opulent parties. It’s strange, the things you remember and take with you.

  I let my fingers run across the cool marble countertops—not a speck of dust to be seen—and then I crossed through the open doorway and into the vast living room, with the oversized shutters that went high up on the wall. I’d always hidden from the events my parents were so fond of—at least, I had until I hit my later high school years and came into my own.

  Sitting down on the cool tile, I crossed my legs and let the memories flip through my mind. But the happiest ones weren’t the ones that had taken place here. They’d been the ones I’d made next door. Growing up, Dawson’s family had been more my family—their house had been where I spent hours doing homework, where Dawson and I played video games and watched movies until we fell asleep. My parents never noticed that I didn’t come home those nights, instead getting tucked into the guest bedroom by his mom. It had been my happy place, the one I escaped to when life at the Traynor-Ashcroft household was a little too lonely.

  With the girls in my life and having a career that kept me so busy, I didn’t feel lonely anymore. But was I? The reality was that I no longer had a family. And though the girls said you could choose your own—and I agreed—I still felt…adrift. Unanchored somehow. Which made no sense, because I was happy. Wasn’t I?

  “Paige?” Dawson’s cautious voice echoed in the cavernous space, and I looked over to where he was standing, half in the shadows. A sliver of the sun’s rays through one of the shutters crossed his face, and the effect made him look truly beautiful. Was it the sunlight, though, or did he just look different to me after last night? I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but as he took a tentative step toward me, I felt a faint flutter in my chest.