by DD Prince
I straighten up and come away from the wall and rush out ahead of them, not smiling, not anything. I rush outside to the bar.
“I’m going,” I tell Ally.
She goes wide-eyed. “I’ll come.”
“No. I need some space. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
She nods and squeezes my hand. “Text me tonight if you need to. Any time. Any time, Carly, okay?”
I grab my string backpack from the table filled with bags and coats by the bar and I rush out of there.
The place is not in a great area. It’s kind of industrial. I go to the Uber app on my phone, standing under a parking lamp. I didn’t bring a coat and it’s a bit chilly out. I reach into my bag and put my new CC pink hoodie on, on top of my blouse.
Aiden is outside with me suddenly.
“Carly.”
“No. Hell no. Fuck off, Aiden.”
He’s coming at me.
“You can’t tell your boss to fuck off,” he says, trying to be light about it, but his eyes aren’t dancing or mischievous. He looks determined.
I put my hand up. “I just did. We’re outside business hours. And the shit you just pulled, you don’t get to say that to me. Don’t step any closer. We’re done. That was bullshit. Bullshit!”
“What do you mean?”
“It was bullshit. You’re trying to fuck with me again. Don’t do that. Leave me alone. I’m going home.”
“I left the other helmet at the office. I’ll…”
“I’ll get an Uber. Go away.”
“Peaches… go back in and have a drink. I’ll go. Then you can catch one of the cabs. They have ten cabs comin’ at midnight.”
I don’t have enough money in my account for an Uber. Maybe I’ll look up a taxi company number and use the gift card.
Or, if he’s going, maybe I can just go back inside. It’s almost 11:30.
“Fine.” I stomp back toward the building, but then he catches me by the elbow and stops me.
He’s looking down into my eyes.
I try to pull away.
“Carly,” he orders.
I look up.
“Go, have a drink, then meet me at home. Cool off. We’ll talk.”
“I have nothing to say. Lemme go.”
He lets go of me. “I’ll see you at home. We’re talking!”
He walks toward his motorcycle.
I turn and go back inside, not looking back.
I find Ally and Meryl in a huddle off to the side. Their eyes go wide.
“I’m gonna wait for a cab. I need a drink. And then I need to sleep on your couch when we go. Can I do that?” I ask.
They both nod.
“Fort Knox is closed up tight,” I say to Ally with my hand up. If you’re gonna be my bestie you’re gonna need to respect that sometimes I’m going to call for processing time. So… processing time. Okay?”
“How much processing time?” she asks, chewing her lip, looking dismayed.
“Twelve hours this time.”
She nods. “You got ‘till pancakes tomorrow morning. I make amazing banana chocolate chip pancakes.”
“Deal. Who won round three?” I accept the glass of wine she’s passing me.
Ally smiles big. “It got down to Austin and Meryl again. He won this time, but he hugged her, telling her ‘Good job’ and she looked like she was at a Beatles concert, circa 1960-something. She almost fainted.”
“Did not!” Meryl shoves her. Meryl has a glass of wine in her hand. And her eyes are glassy!
“Meryl’s drinking!” I say, shocked.
She laughs.
“She needed a drink after being in Austin’s arms,” Ally says softly and fans herself.
Meryl giggles and slaps Ally’s arm. “This is my first and only.”
“Only one tonight. We’re breakin’ you in. Tomorrow night’ll be a different story.”
Clubbing tomorrow night. Do I even want anything to do with that? I sip my wine.
Wait. So, he tried to fuck me over at work. He failed.
And then he tried to pay me with a $100 gift card to say sorry without actually saying sorry. And then he kissed me.
He kissed me!
And I kissed him back. Oh, and I might’ve grinded against him like a dirty ho.
I take a big sip of my wine. A big one.
I’ve had a rough first week at my new job, but I need to celebrate. I’m about to have enough money going in my account to pay off the debt my sister stuck me with. I have a CEO who thinks I’m worth a bonus (okay, so everyone got one, but still!) and I’m going to a marketing tradeshow next week in the Big Apple. I’ve lived in New York state my whole life and have only been to NYC twice. Once, passing through, another time, for a school trip. And this conference is a big deal for my industry.
I deserve good things. Fun things.
I need to kick back, dance, and be Carly 2.0, the non-doormat, the stronger person who doesn’t let people screw her over.
Do I want to go clubbing tomorrow night?
Yes. Yes, I fucking do. New Carly deserves some fun.
Rules for New Carly!
Don’t be a doormat.
Forgive and Forget are F-words. (No way is he getting forgiven for today!)
Not everyone is pure of heart. Be suspicious of everyone. (Especially hot guys with alpha-male tendencies!)
Never show weakness to a potential enemy. (Especially alpha male assholes)
New rule. Above all… whatever you do, do NOT have sex with Aiden Carmichael.
I’m not going to sleep with him. I’m not going to even think of his lips on my lips, his body against mine, his hardness against my belly as his tongue danced with mine, my hands in his soft hair and that I might have even grinded a little against his erection.
Nope, no might have about it. I did that. He bent at the knees and gyrated upwards against me and I grinded against him.
My face burns red hot.
Rule number five is essential.
Essential!
26
AIDEN
Jude showed at the laser place and brought my phone back, charged up and cleaned out. He said there was spyware software installed and there was a program used to make it look like that text came from him.
He assures me that no one can fuck with my phone settings now unless they get physical access to my phone. I’m changing my number anyway. I’ll call my provider in the morning. And, I’ve never bothered with password protecting my phone. That’s about to change.
I saw Austin and told him I’d missed the bank.
He asked if I want to go Saturday. I said I did. An employee in his department approached, so the conversation ended there. I didn’t get a chance to say anything to Austin about our mother getting arrested. I’d do that Saturday.
I spoke to my Dad as soon as I got to the laser place and asked if his wife looked good in stripes.
“Stripes?”
“You know, prison stripes?”
He looked at me with surprise.
“How’d you know?”
“I have my sources,” I replied in hushed tones.
“She’s home now. She spent the night in jail. She is not a happy woman right now,” he replied in barely more than a whisper.
“I bet.”
“Aiden, we have to talk. Can we do that?” he asked. “I’d like us to sit down. Figure some stuff out about the direction of the company and our direction. Mine and yours.”
I nodded. “Fine.”
His eyes brightened. “Fine?”
He knows I’m all about the company but looked pleased I’m willing to talk about the other stuff.
“Yep,” I said and took a sip of my beer.
A girl with the logo of the place we’re at approached then and my father excused himself. “Excuse me. We’ll talk later. I’ve got to get things rolling. Let’s make some time this weekend.”
***
And now I’m home. It’s after laser tag and that kiss, that fuckin’ k
iss…
I’ve just pulled in to the parking spot in the garage and I’m heading upstairs to wait for my roommate, my employee, the girl I kissed tonight and felt hunger for like I’d never felt hunger for anyone. Not ever.
I’m fuckin’ starving for her. And tonight, I’ll be doing my damndest to have her.
She responded. She might’ve thrown sass. She might’ve pushed me off and threatened to call the cops on me, but she kissed me back. And when she whimpered and bit my lip, then squirmed against my erection, it sealed it for me. She sounded better than I’d imagined she’d sound, whimpering into my mouth while I was kissing her, hands on that perfect ass.
I’ve had her mouth and I want more. I will find out what the rest of Carly Adler tastes like. Hopefully tonight.
***
Only, she doesn’t show up.
At all.
I crash on the couch after two glasses of bourbon, in case she comes home. Look at me, living with a girl. Living with a girl I’d like to fuck. And waiting up for her to come home like a lovesick puppy dog.
Fuck me.
I text Ally at ten thirty Saturday morning.
“Hey Pinky. Carly stay with you last night?”
She answers
Yes. Why?
Figured as much. I get a stab of relief. I reply.
Good. She didn’t come home and I wanted to make sure she was alright. Have a good weekend. Give me her number.
She responds with the number and says
“Don’t say I gave this to you. She’s a bit miffed at you. She won’t say why yet but I’m about to ply her with chocolate chips and maple syrup until she spills. I saw you 2 going at one another in the laser tag hall so guessing it’s to do with that. The girl is a hard nut to crack. Me? I’m rooting for you to win the girl. The girl is awesome and I can’t share what she’s said about her story, but she’s been hurt a lot so handle her with care. AKA don’t be a douche.
I roll my eyes.
I bet she is miffed with me. And I shouldn’t give a shit about it, but I still feel her against me. I still have the taste of her in my mouth. And I’m gonna get more of it.
Once I’m up, showered, and dressed, I text my brother to say I’m hitting the bank and then coming by.
I’m psyching myself up for this. The moment of truth. Time to get this monkey off my back now. Whatever will be will be. Whether I’m Quentin Carmichael’s son or Mitchell Carmichael’s son.
***
It’s in my pocket. I’m at my brother’s house, knocking on his door.
Austin lives in a ridiculous McMansion in a gated community about three blocks from Adele. Adele talked him into buying it earlier this year. Can’t imagine myself in a place like this. I get a shock when my father answers the door, wearing a Nirvana t-shirt and a pair of what looks like Austin’s Adidas jogging pants.
I’m unable to hide my shock. Dad waves me in.
“What’re you here for?” I ask.
“I slept in your brother’s spare room last night.”
“Huh?
“We had a fight after I bailed her out of jail. I got home last night after the company event and she was three sheets to the wind and wanted to pick another fight. I tried to sleep in one of the guest rooms and she got belligerent and wouldn’t leave me alone so I left. Don’t tell your sister. They put her on bed rest and we don’t wanna stress her out.”
I glance at Austin, who’s on the couch, Xbox controller in hand. He waves.
“You read your text?” I ask.
“Phone’s probably dead,” my brother replies, pushing buttons, eyes on the screen.
“Auz,” I say, and he glances my way and then pauses his game and I’ve got my eyes on my Dad. Auz straightens up.
“Oh,” Austin turns the game off and winces. “Dad, me ‘n Aid’re gonna take a walk.”
I look at my Dad. I look back at my brother. “Let’s do it here. With Dad.”
I’ve just surprised myself. My brother’s eyebrows jut up. My Dad looks at me, curiously.
“So, uh…” I scratch my head, “I wanna get some shit on the table here. Now. No sense waiting any longer. Been long enough. You’re in a fight with your wife, I get it, but shit’s about to be real here. As real as it gets. You interested in real, Dad?”
My father swallows hard and sits down. He sits down slowly and shakily.
I pull the folded envelope out of my back jeans pocket and drop it on the coffee table.
“What’s this?” He eyes it.
“DNA test results,” I answer.
“D---”
“Yeah. Mine.”
He frowns.
“About two years ago, I walked in on your wife having sex with two men. Two. At once. In the garden shed behind our home.”
I can’t get a read on his face. He is expressionless.
“I already had a bad taste in my mouth about the kind of person she was. That? That was not good. I don’t even wanna…” I stop and shudder. “She threatened me against telling you. I tried to tell you anyway. You---”
“Wouldn’t allow you to tell me,” he answers.
“Right.”
“And then?” he asks, eyes on the envelope.
“And then I hired someone to investigate her. All sorts of ugly shit got unearthed, including evidence calling my and Auz’s paternity into question.”
Dad looks to Austin.
“Opened my envelope Thursday, Dad. No questions about me.”
Dad’s face is still unreadable for a second and then his eyes, his brown eyes that are like mine and like Uncle Mitch’s look at me. “You don’t even need to open that envelope, Aiden. I can tell you the answer.”
“I’ve been hanging onto this envelope and Austin’s for over a year.”
“A year?” Dad’s face changes. The color drains as he tries to make sense of why I’d do such a thing.
I’m tryin’ to make sense of it myself.
“Austin opened his not sixty seconds after I showed it to him. He wanted to be there for me when I opened mine. That’s why I’m here.”
“You’re my son.”
“Even if I’m not?
“You’re my son.”
“Even if I’m your nephew?”
“You’re not my fucking nephew!” He roars. And I can see by the emotion on his face he knows I suspect it’s Uncle Mitch.
“Open it,” Dad demands.
I stare at the thing. The fucking thing that feels like a poisonous snake, that’s felt like poison all this time.
“Should I open it?” Dad asks.
I stare at him.
“You’re my son,” he says with absolutely no doubt on his face.
“Because you raised me or because your seed made me?”
“Both.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. I’d love you even if you weren’t my son. But you are. Fuckin’ open it,” Dad barks.
“I’ll fuckin’ open it,” Austin says. He leans over and takes the envelope, but his eyes are on me.
“Give it,” I say. I ordered a comprehensive test and told the lab the paternity in question was between identical twins. My uncle had left his body to science, so his DNA results were accessible on file. He was a big believer in philanthropy and his death resulted in six lives being saved or enhanced.
They assured me the results will be accurate. They told me they had three labs test comprehensively and results are based on all results. If anyone comes up as in doubt, they’d let me know. The tests came back to me with an invoice that told me conclusively there were no questions about the results.
I open it and unfold the paper and I don’t want to look.
If this came from nowhere, like it did for my brother, maybe I’d have just opened it fast. But this has been fuckin’ with me for a long fucking time. My whole life I wanted to make him proud. Get his attention. Get his attention away from his fucking work for five minutes, so I excelled. I excelled at everything. But I failed at
being a decent human being because he looks at me like he’s sorely disappointed in the man that I am. And then I find out I might not even be his. Of course it’s been fucking with my head.
They’re waiting.
I look down at the paper.
My knees go a little weak.
“Quinten Carmichael, you are the father.” I say.
Austin snickers and goes to a drawer in a table beside his television and pulls out three cigars.
“Cubans,” he says and grabs a box of matches.
Dad’s eyes are on me.
“I’m sorry, Aiden. I’m sorry I didn’t let you speak when I knew what you were going to say. If I had, maybe you wouldn’t have been in pain all this time. Carrying that weight on your shoulders. I… I was weak.”
“Talk to us,” I say, lighting my Cuban.
He lights up and takes a few puffs and then shrugs.
“I was married to my job. Driven. It drove her into my twin brother’s arms. She begged and pleaded for more from me and I was just… emotionally unavailable to her. She grew bitter. She started screwing around to try to get my attention. I buried my head in the sand and ignored it while I tried to build my empire. I ignored it until I found out she fucked my brother, because he not only looked like me but was everything she wanted that I wasn’t.”
Austin lets out an angry gust of breath.
Dad continues, looking like he’s seeing it all happen before his eyes again. Recounting it aloud is taking him back. “When I found out, I confronted them. He was always the sensitive one. My mother used to joke that he got the double dose in the womb and there was none left for me. I think it was the truth. He was always extreme in his emotions. Elated, then depressed. I think your mother latched onto trying to make him happy when no one could. When he killed himself, three days after I confronted him about his affair with my wife, it launched your mother on the road that led her to where she is today. Bitter. Angry. Drinks too much. Screws men half her age trying to find some happiness, numb her guilt.” He takes a haul off the stoagie and shrugs. “I created that monster.”
