Born Under a Blond Sign

by V. J. Chambers

  Eventually, Brigit left. I knew that I could have gone home on my own and tried to relax, but I couldn’t. Instead, I stayed in the office.

  First, I tried to file, but I couldn’t concentrate on the alphabet to actually know what went where. Then I tried tidying up, but I kept my office pretty clean, so there wasn’t much to do.

  Finally, I ended up pacing.

  I started from the back of the office and walked all the way to the front. Back and forth, over and over again.

  I just wanted to know what was happening. Was Brigit okay? Was the assistant cooperating? What the hell was going on?

  I resisted the desire to pick up my phone and text Brigit for a status update. I knew that she needed to focus on what was going on without any interruptions. I needed to let her be.

  But I couldn’t help getting out my phone anyway. I stared at the screen, admonishing myself not to call, not to text, not to do anything.

  My phone rang.

  I jumped.

  I didn’t recognize the phone number, which was a little strange, but I decided to pick up anyway.

  “Hello?”

  “Ivy? This is Calloway Pike,” said the voice on the other end. He sounded like he was grinning, but I didn’t know when that man didn’t smile.

  “How did you get my phone number?” I said.

  “I, uh, might have pestered it out of Miles,” he said. “Sorry about that. I hope it’s not a problem, me having your number or anything.”

  “Miles gave you my number?”

  “Oh, yeah, he happened to mention that the two of you weren’t actually together. That’s something you could have told me earlier when you were at the office.”

  “I, um…” I didn’t know what to say. Sure, it wasn’t strictly true that Miles and I weren’t together, but I didn’t think that meant that Miles gave my number to his brother. What was I supposed to make of that? Was it some kind of passive-aggressive trap? Was I going to be in trouble no matter what I did? If I shut Cal down, Miles would say I was being too sensitive to a relationship that was clearly over. But if I didn’t… well, Miles couldn’t really want me to start something with his brother.

  “So, since you’re single and all,” Cal said, “would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

  I opened and closed my mouth, but I didn’t say anything.

  “Hello?” he said. “You still there.”

  “You mean right now?” I said. “You busy tonight?”

  “Well, that’s short notice, but I like getting right down to it, personally. Sure. Tonight it is. That a yes?”

  Man, anything beat sitting around this office waiting for Brigit to call me back. “Yes,” I said.

  “Excellent.”

  “But this doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” I said. “Let’s say this is a friendly dinner, not a romantic one.”

  “Well, that’s hardly a date, is it?”

  “You want to back out?” I said.

  “Give me this dinner to convince you that it should be romantic,” he said. “Or at the very least, more than friendly.”

  “To be honest, Cal, I just need a distraction right now. My associate’s out working without me and it makes me crazy not knowing what’s going on. If you’ll distract me, I’ll keep my mind open. But I should warn you that I’m not easy to convince.”

  He chuckled. “I like a challenge.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  So, it was a bad idea. I knew it was a bad idea. I was completely aware of how bad of an idea it was. I knew that the right thing to do would have been to say an unequivocal “no” to Cal. Friendly dinner or no, there was nothing good that could come of my becoming entangled with Miles’s brother. Maybe Pike and I weren’t together, but I didn’t think it was good form to go on a date with your ex’s brother, even if the two of you were on good terms. And the terms Miles and I were on?

  Man, Miles and I were like two north pole magnets, drawn together and then repelled at the last moment. Everything between us was complicated.

  So, why didn’t I say no to Cal?

  Really, it was just because of Brigit. I know that sounds stupid. Most people probably don’t get it. Was it really bothering me so much not knowing how Brigit’s night was going? That sounds crazy.

  I didn’t think that Brigit was screwing it up. I wasn’t worried about her. I was just anxious to know. The uncertainty of it all, how everything might splinter off in a thousand directions, that really bugged me. What kind of person does something she knows is a bad idea just to distract herself from the uncertainty of life?

  Well, me.

  I mean, if I was honest, that was what the sex was kind of about a lot of the time. My head chattered at me, told me all kinds of annoying things, and a lot of them were doubts. I wasn’t sure if I’d done wrong things. I wasn’t sure if I might do something wrong in the future. Sex was, well, distracting.

  And so was this date with Cal.

  Bad idea, though.

  I knew it was a bad idea.

  I did it anyway.

  Story of my life, right?

  Cal took me to a nice restaurant, which I wasn’t dressed for. I was still in my work clothes, which consisted of black slacks and a blouse. It looked professional, at least, but it wasn’t the kind of thing women usually wore to these places. I didn’t even get funny looks from the wait staff, though, possibly because I was with Cal, who they all seemed to know, and want to go out of their way to make happy.

  When we were alone at the table, after we’d been shown the wine list by three different people, I said, “You come here often?”

  He laughed out loud, a kind of deep laugh that radiated up from somewhere inside him. He looked completely relaxed and open. He was so different from Miles, which was odd, because they looked a lot alike. He opened his napkin. “I, uh, may have left a few sizable tips on my last visits here. You do that enough, and people tend to take care of you.”

  I opened my napkin too, smoothing it over my lap. “Well, I feel quite taken care of.”

  He laughed again. “I’m glad you’re not with my brother. I couldn’t figure that out at all. You just don’t match him.”

  I cocked my head to one side. “You don’t think so?”

  “No, not at all. He’s all official and stilted and proper, right? You’re sarcastic and funny and ready to tear down the system.”

  I smoothed my napkin again. “Tear down the system, huh? Why do you think that?”

  “Just the way you didn’t take it lying down when the department fired you. I read all about it, and I gotta tell you, I think what they did to you is the most disgustingly sexist thing I’ve ever heard of.”

  I sat up straighter. “Thank you. I agree.”

  “Yeah, it’s none of their business what you do with your private life, and there’s such a double standard for women. I don’t mean to discuss things myself that are none of my business, but it’s not the sort of thing they’d have done to a male detective.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s not.”

  “Anyway, I’m sorry it happened to you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you very much.” I didn’t think that anyone had ever been so open with me about the subject, which I appreciated. I liked Cal, I realized. Not only was he warm, personable, and good looking, but he had a frank nature about him which cut away all the bullshit.

  One of the waiters appeared then with a bottle of wine. He poured it for us, left the bottle, and then was on his way.

  “Weird, though,” said Cal, tasting the wine. “Far as I know, my brother never had a girlfriend. Except you. And you seem completely different than the kind of woman he’d choose.”

  “Well, appearances can be deceiving,” I said. “I work hard, just like Miles, you know. I happen to play hard, too, however.”

  He nodded. “Hell, yes. That is my philosophy too. I may have gotten my position at the company because of my father, but that’s only meant that I had to work even harder to be taken se
riously there. Any other employee would be allowed a bit of wiggle room to make mistakes, but not me. So, I understand hard work. Believe me, I do.” He raised his glass. “To working hard and playing hard.”

  I raised mine too.

  We clinked and then drank.

  “But,” he said, “you and Miles aren’t together anymore.”

  “Not officially,” I said. “Not really at all. You’re right, we do have what I suppose you could call irreconcilable differences. But I care about him a great deal, and I wish there were some way around our problems. That’s why I said this should be a friendly dinner. I wouldn’t want to hurt Miles. And honestly, I don’t think I could get involved with his brother.”

  He leaned in. “Well, maybe it could be a little bit awkward. I’ll give you that. But I find you intriguing. I can’t help but be drawn to you. I think if it’s meant to be, Miles would understand. He’d have to see that there’s no future for the two of you. I mean, that is what he said to me before I asked him for your phone number.”

  I still couldn’t believe that Miles had done that. I really should have called him first before agreeing to this date. I didn’t know where his head was.

  But if I was honest with myself, I never did quite know where Miles’s head was.

  “Still, if that’s what you want,” said Cal, “I agree to wait it out, try to win you over to my side. So, I figure all I have to do to accomplish that is to convince you that we’re perfect together. So, let’s see what all the things are that we have in common.”

  “I can’t imagine we have much in common,” I said. “You work for your father’s company. I’m a private detective. You have a lot of money. I… don’t.”

  He laughed. “Let’s start with something simple, like music. Your favorite band?”

  I considered. “The Rolling Stones.”

  “Nice,” he said.

  “If you say that’s your favorite band, then I’m going to have to cry foul,” I said. “You could just be agreeing with whatever I say.”

  He chuckled. “No, no. I think my favorite band is probably Aerosmith. Still, we both like bands that have staying power, that play good old fashioned hard rock and roll. That’s something in common in my book.”

  “Aerosmith is a good band,” I agreed.

  “Honestly, I mostly listen to classic rock music,” he said. “But I like most anything. Can’t stand country, though.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Have you been stalking my Facebook profile?” Of course, not being an idiot, I had that thing set to private.

  He laughed again, one of his deep laughs that took over his whole body. He seemed so alive.

  I couldn’t help but grin at him.

  “Have some wine,” he said. “You’re not drinking nearly fast enough.”

  “You’re just trying to get me drunk.”

  “What? You a lightweight?”

  “Oh, hardly,” I said. “I can keep up, trust me.” I took a long drink of wine. It was a dry red, which I usually didn’t like, but this one was pretty expensive, and it was much nicer than any other dry red I’d ever had. I set down the glass, raising my eyebrows. “This wine is actually pretty good.”

  “Oh, I’m glad you approve.” He lifted his glass, toasting me again. “So, um, what else do we have in common?”

  “There’s not much to me, I’m afraid. I’m a bit of a workaholic.”

  “Well, so am I,” said Cal. “I break my back trying to get a toehold in that damned company, not that my father ever notices.” There was a bitter tinge to his voice. “But let’s not dwell on anything unpleasant, shall we?”

  “All right,” I said. “We’ll change the subject.”

  “Have some more wine,” he said.

  I did.

  * * *

  It was a bad idea. I knew it was a bad idea. And yet, I kept letting myself sink deeper and deeper into it.

  We had more than one bottle of wine at the restaurant.

  Bad idea.

  Then we left and Cal told me his driver could take us anywhere we wanted. He asked if I wanted to go back to his place.

  I should have said no. I didn’t. I said yes.

  Bad idea.

  Once we were back in his lush, enormous apartment, we drank more wine.

  Bad idea.

  And not just because a wine hangover is the worst hangover. But because I knew what was happening. I knew what I was getting myself into. And I just didn’t stop it.

  Sometimes… it was hard for me to say no to sex, because I overthought it a whole bunch. In this instance, I’d made it abundantly clear that I didn’t want anything to happen like that. I wanted to be friends with Cal, the end.

  But then Cal started to be so charming and funny and nice to look at. Part of that was the wine talking, I knew, but I started to wonder if I really did want him.

  And if I wanted him, well, then, I should probably just do it, because if I didn’t do it, I’d really regret it. I mean, if I wanted to do it, that is.

  Sounds idiotic. But the thing about my brain is that thoughts like that don’t shut up. They just keep yammering away at me. After a certain point, the wine just makes them louder.

  We were sitting on Cal’s balcony. He had a big screened-in area that overlooked the whole city. There was a hot tub, but it was too warm for hot water, at least that’s what I told him. Instead, we were sitting on padded outdoor chairs, glasses of wine next to us, and we were staring down at the lights of the city at night. There was a warm breeze filtering in, and I was just a little bit drunk.

  “I don’t know why you’re denying this,” Cal said.

  “Denying what?” I ran a finger around the rim of my wine glass.

  “What’s between us.”

  I let out a little laugh. “There’s nothing between us.” But my voice wasn’t strong. The thoughts were already beating me down, filling in all the little silences, telling me that I probably really did want to have sex with Cal Pike, and that I should probably just go on and do it.

  “You can’t feel it?” He grinned at me. “Why’d you come back here with me if you didn’t feel it?”

  “Stop it,” I murmured. I didn’t want him pressuring me too. Between him and my own head, I wasn’t going to be able to resist.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His fingers snaked across the distance between us. He caught my chin with one hand. “If I had the chance, the things I’d like to do to you.”

  I swallowed. This was all such a bad idea. I needed to tell him to move his hand. I needed to put down the wine glass and run out of here, get myself back home, to my own bed.

  I didn’t do any of that.

  His fingers trailed down over my jaw, my neck. They were feather soft on my clavicle. And then. Lower. Dipping into my cleavage. Tracing the swell of the top of my breast…

  My body started to wake up. A twitch between my legs. A yearning that grew inside, radiating outward.

  I sighed.

  “Ivy,” whispered Cal.

  I shut my eyes.

  Say no, I thought at myself.

  But what if I don’t want to say no? I answered myself.

  I wanted my stupid head to shut the fuck up.

  There was one thing that would do that. I reached for Cal. I kissed him.

  He tasted like wine and desire and forbidden things.

  I pressed closer.

  He broke the kiss. His voice was soft, gently teasing. “I thought you wanted to keep things friendly.”

  “What?” I said. “You didn’t think that was friendly?”

  He chuckled.

  I ran my fingers over his chest, feeling his muscles through his shirt. “Maybe,” I breathed, “I’ll show you exactly how friendly I can be, Calloway Pike.”

  He tangled his hands in my hair, tugging me closer.

  * * *

  “Oh, she totally hated him,” said Brigit. “She said he was the worst boss she’d ever had.”

  My head was pounding. Wine most definite
ly does cause the worst hangover ever. To make matters worse, having stayed the night at Cal’s here in Renmawr, I hadn’t been able to follow my typical routine before getting to the office. So, I’d had to make do with some kind of drive-thru breakfast instead of my usual Sunshine Skillet food. I felt disgusting, and I wanted some water. I’d been guzzling water since I woke up, but I wanted more.

  “She was totally happy to tell me whatever I wanted to know,” said Brigit. “She said that she wouldn’t be surprised if he was a murderer.”

  I limped around Brigit towards my inner office. I kept some bottles of water in the mini-fridge in there.

  Brigit followed me. “I kind of wanted it to be harder than that, you know? I wanted to be able to do lots of manipulating and sneaking around, like a real detective. But I didn’t have to. She just handed the phone right over. She did have it on her. He gives it to her a lot.”

  I threw open the fridge, got out a bottle of water, and collapsed in my chair behind my desk to drink it.

  “But that’s probably why it’s no good to us anyway,” said Brigit. “Because he doesn’t really use it. He relies on his assistant to work the thing. Says he doesn’t have time to figure it out. Says he doesn’t like being able to be reached any time of the day or night anyway. So, if he set up the hit on his son, he probably didn’t use that phone.”

  The water was not really easing anything for me, but I was guzzling it down anyway. Wine hangovers were so bad. God, why on earth had I drunk so much wine last night?

  “And sure enough,” Brigit continued, “there was nothing on the phone that would indicate he’d set something up with that guy. He barely uses it to call anyone. So, it’s a dead end. Sorry about that.”

  I crumpled the bottle of water with one hand. It was empty. I tossed it in the trash can by my desk. “Would you get me another bottle of water?”

  “Sure.” Brigit scurried over and got one. She handed it to me. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Oh, I’m great,” I muttered.

  “You have been listening to me, haven’t you?”