Fair Play

by Madison, Dakota

  “What are you doing here?” he asks.

  I give him a coy half smile. “Looks like I’ll be going to grad school with you. I was accepted into the MBA program.”

  He looks genuinely surprised but I can’t tell if it’s a good surprise or not. “Seriously?”

  I nod. “I’ve even got a condo over on Lexington and Price.”

  “That’s where I live.” He sounds a little shocked.

  “What a coincidence,” I say but I know it’s anything but. I had my mom call his mom to get his address before I signed a lease on my place.

  “I guess we’re going to be neighbors,” he continues but I’m still not sure he’s completely happy to see me or with my news. I have a feeling it has a lot to do with Rainy and her insecurity around me. Not that I blame her for being insecure. I am after her man.

  “Maybe we can form a study group or something,” I throw out as casually as I can.

  “Maybe,” he replies. He still seems so unsure and it bothers me. Pre-Rainy at least we were friends. Now it doesn’t feel like he wants to still be friends with me.

  “Come on,” I prod and playfully pat his shoulder. I notice he stiffens on my touch so I remove my hand. “We can invite other people to be in our study group if Rainy doesn’t want us to be alone.”

  “It has nothing to do with Rainy,” he insists but I can tell he’s lying. He just doesn’t want to admit it to me.

  “Whatever you say.” I turn and head into the building and Aaron follows. Just being around him, in his space, and feeling his energy makes everything I’ve done to be here, in this moment, worthwhile.

  I would do almost anything to be with Aaron Donovan.

  No, that’s not true.

  I would do anything to be with Aaron.

  ***

  Our first class, Economics for Managers, is more boring than I could have ever imaged. Luckily, I have a great view of Aaron from where I’m seated and I can stare at him and fantasize about all the things I want to do to him. Aaron has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re deep pools of chocolate brown goodness. I could stare into his eyes for a million years and never get tired of them.

  He keeps his thick dark brown hair a little long. He has always got a little bit of a tussled look to it like he just got out of bed. After having sex. With me. At least that’s how it always looks in my fantasies.

  Yummy.

  The tight-fitting polo shirts he always wears show off his incredibly toned arms. I remember the last time I saw him shirtless. It was Spring Break and we were all at his parents’ lake house. Before Rainy freaked out and left, we were all hanging out and having a good time. Aaron took off his shirt to get some sun and I caught a glimpse of his perfect upper body. He’s not as muscle-bound as Evan but Aaron’s muscles are solid and he’s perfectly proportioned. I fondly remember the way the light film of sweat on his upper body glistened in the sun and made me want to devour him.

  “Miss Whitley,” I hear the instructor say and it jolts me out of my Aaron reverie.

  I look up at the professor, who looks like he turned a hundred years old last century, and say, “What?”

  “I asked you a question, Miss Whitley. Do I need to repeat it for you?”

  “Yes,” I admit. I know I should be embarrassed but I don’t care enough about this class or this teacher for it to bother me.

  “Who is considered the father of modern economics?”

  Luckily I’m smart and quick on my feet. And I also had two econ classes at Yale as an undergraduate. “Adam Smith,” I answer.

  The ancient instructor, Dr. Clark, I think, raises an eyebrow as if he can’t believe I’ve given him the correct answer. Then he glances at his watch. “We only have a few minutes left and I want to make sure you all get assigned to your study groups. These are the groups you will be working with all semester and the groups you will work with on your final projects.”

  The class is fairly large, about 50 students, so it takes a while for him to call the names of the students in all of the groups.

  When he finally calls my name, I breathe a small sigh of relief that it’s followed by Aaron Donovan and two other people, I don’t yet know.

  It’s a wonderful thing what my daddy’s large donation to the graduate business school can do.

  “We’ll use the last few minutes of class today for you to get acquainted with the people in your groups.”

  Aaron glances over at me and I give him a half smile. He doesn’t look as pleased to be matched with me as I’d like. An extremely overweight girl with curly red hair lumbers over to us and I realize she’s Roxie Reynolds, the other female in our group. A skinny guy with thick glasses and an acne scarred face follows. I assume he’s Les Marks, the other guy who was matched with us.

  “Hey,” Aaron says to greet the two people, who just joined us.

  I give them each a fake megawatt smile that seems to appease them. The only thing I care about is spending time with Aaron; the group work and the other people who have joined us are necessary evils.

  Roxie is staring at Aaron like she’s never been so close to someone so good looking. I hope she doesn’t faint because we might not be able to get her back up.

  “I guess we should schedule a time for the group to meet,” Aaron suggests.

  “I’m free tomorrow evening,” I propose.

  Roxie flips open an iPad and begins tapping it. We all stare at her as she taps away on the device.

  “I can do tomorrow if it’s after seven,” she says finally.

  “Where do you want to meet?” Les asks.

  “We can meet at my place,” I offer even though I don’t really want anyone but Aaron there. “Or Aaron’s place is close by.”

  Aaron shoots me a look like he can’t believe I just offered his place. Too bad. I plan to spend a lot of time there.

  “Where do you live?” Les asks. “Wherever we meet, I have to ride my bike.”

  “You don’t have a car?” I reply. I can’t believe a graduate student wouldn’t have an automobile.

  Les shakes his head.

  “The condos over on Lexington and Price,” I say. “A few miles from here.”

  “Where do you live?” Roxie asks Les. “Maybe I can give you a ride.”

  “The grad student housing over on University,” he replies.

  “I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

  “So tomorrow night at seven at Keira’s place?” Aaron reiterates for everyone’s benefit. I love it when he takes charge. It makes me wonder what he’d be like in bed.

  We all nod in agreement but then Roxie holds up a finger.

  “Wait,” she says. “I just remembered something I have to do tomorrow evening. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

  Aaron frowns and shakes his head. “Just let us know when you’ve got your schedule together, okay?”

  Roxie nods. “I will, promise.”

  Aaron grabs his stuff and hurries out the door. I try to catch up to him but I can feel a hand grab my elbow.

  I turn to face Roxie. “I think we need to get a few things out in the open,” she says.

  First of all, I can’t believe she’s touching me. And second, I can’t believe she’s so bold. In my 22 years on Earth, I haven’t met a girl yet who’s had the guts to stand up to me.

  “What things?” I counter.

  She removes her hand from my elbow and crosses her arms over her chest. “I saw the way you were looking at me. Like I’m no better than the dirt on your shoe. I just want you to know that you’re no better than me.”

  Shit, this girl is ballsy. I can’t wait to hear what else she has to say.

  I make a point of looking her up and down. “I’m clearly better than you in every way,” I counter. “You look like you stepped out of an advertisement for WalMart.”

  She gives me the type of evil smirk that I see when I look in the mirror. “I am an advertisement for WalMart,” she snaps. “I have a line of clothing there and they
pay very well. Do you have a line of clothing with the biggest retailer in the world?”

  That takes me back for a moment. I think about the kind of income that could come from having a line with WalMart. Then I can’t believe I was actually thinking about WalMart.

  “You think your shit doesn’t stink because you’re a skinny ass bitch with a rich daddy?” she continues. “What have you actually accomplished without your daddy’s help?”

  Her words are like a slap in the face because not only does she have a point, for once I don’t have a smart-ass reply.

  “That’s what I thought.” She actually puts her chunky index finger in my face. “I’ve been working my fat ass off since I was twelve. My sisters and I had one of the highest rated reality television shows in history, The Trailer Park Trio. Our company, Trailer Park Productions, produces several of the most popular reality shows in the country: Mud Bog Mania, Jeep Girlz and Desert Dune Buggy Bonanza. While you’ve been spending your daddy’s money, I’ve been making my own. So, I don’t ever want to see you look down your nose at me again. Got it?”

  I’m actually in awe of this fat redheaded spitfire and I can see why she’s so successful. Nobody intimidates her and she obviously lets nothing stand in her way. I’ve never had any desire to have a female friend but this woman intrigues me. She’s like an alternative reality version of me.

  “So, fat ass,” I say. “What do you like to drink?”

  She gives me that little evil smirk that I know so well. “Maker’s Mark neat.”

  “That’s my drink, too.”

  “What’s a skinny ass chick like you doing drinking Maker’s Mark?” she asks.

  “As if there’s any other kind of drink?”

  “I had you pegged for a Chardonnay kind of girl.”

  I shake my head. “Wine isn’t for serious drinkers.”

  Roxie points a finger in my direction. “I like you already.”

  “Is it too early for a drink?” I ask.

  She laughs. “It must be afternoon somewhere.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  ***

  I’ll be damned. When I suggest that Roxie pick a place she likes, we end up at the hotel bar I visited when I was on campus for Aaron and Evan’s graduation. The one with the hot bartender.

  “Why here?” I ask Roxie as we enter the place.

  “Let’s just say I like the scenery,” she whispers.

  ““The bartender is hot as hell,” I reply.

  She raises an eyebrow. “You know him?”

  “I don’t know him. I’ve been here once before and let’s just say I took note of how attractive the scenery was.”

  Like the last time I was here, the place is dead except for a few businessmen engaged in conversation at a corner table. I pick a seat at the corner of the bar and Roxie hops up on the stool next to me. I’m actually amazed at how well she gets around for someone of her physique.

  I’m happy to see that the scenery is just as attractive as when I was here before. The bartender gives a nod of recognition as he approaches. “Well, if it isn’t the princess back for another round.”

  I’m surprised that he remembers me. It’s been several months since he’s seen me. When he glances in Roxie’s direction, he looks surprised. “And my favorite member of the Trailer Park Trio is back!”

  The bartender looks back and forth between the two of us. “How the hell do the two of you know each other?”

  I grab Roxie’s elbow and pull her close. “What, we don’t look like old pals?”

  He bartender laughs. “The two of you are about the furthest thing from looking like old pals as you can get.”

  “We’re drinking buddies,” I state.

  The bartender nods. “Does that mean you both want the usual?”

  “You remember my drink?” I blurt.

  The bartender gives me a shit-eating grin. “Don’t look so surprised, Princess. You’re not easy to forget.”

  His eyes lock with mine and his stare is intense. There’s a definite exchange of energy between us. The guy is probably dynamite in the sack.

  Roxie bangs on the bar to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey, you two. No eye fucking right in front of me, okay?”

  The bartender gives Roxie his full attention. “The usual?”

  Roxie nods. “Might as well start a tab. I plan on drinking a while. Let’s see if the skinny ass princess can keep up with me.”

  Roxie eyes me and I know it’s a challenge.

  I scoff. “I can drink your fat ass under the table.”

  “Care to make a wager,” she challenges.

  “You’re on,” I reply. Even though I’m not sure I can win I never back down from a bet.

  The bartender, who has been taking in the conversation, says, “My money is on Trailer Park.”

  I glare at him. “Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

  “Come on, Princess,” he replies. “She’s more than twice your size.”

  I give a quick glance at Roxie and she’s grinning from ear to ear. She doesn’t seem to be offended by the bartender’s comments at all. If only I could have that much confidence in my body.

  I decide to play with the bartender some more. “So you’re saying size does matter?”

  He bartender leans in toward me and our eyes lock again. The guy definitely has something going on because I can feel a slight shiver work its way down my spine. “Oh, Princess. If you have to ask that question, you haven’t been with the right man yet.”

  “And you’re the right man?” I challenge.

  He shakes his head. “I think I’m a little too much for a princess to handle.”

  His comment actually makes me a little angry. Guys don’t usually turn me down.

  “Let’s get a table,” I say to Roxie and she nods. We grab our drinks and head over to a table in the corner of the lounge.

  “You know he’s just playing with you,” Roxie says as we take our seats. “He likes getting under your skin.”

  “Whatever,” I say dismissively. “He’s just a bartender.”

  “Uh, huh,” she says but she’s eyeing me like she doesn’t believe I’m not upset.

  “Okay, so he did get under my skin. He’s good at it.”

  Roxie laughs. “You’ve just so perfect. You know it pisses people off. They want to see if they can knock you down a few pegs.”

  I’ve never had anyone talk to me the way Roxie does. It infuriates me but I love it. It’s refreshing.

  Roxie knocks back her drink in one swallow and I realize I have my work cut out for me if I want to keep up with her. She raises a hand and snaps a finger.

  A petite waitress hurries over to our table. Her jaw drops when she sees Roxie.

  “Another Maker’s Mark neat,” Roxie says pointing to her glass.

  “You’re one of the Trailer Park Trio,” the waitress says in disbelief. Why does everyone seem to know about this show but me? Maybe I should start to use my Netflix account a little more often.

  Roxie nods to the waitress then turns to me. “Want another drink?”

  I look at my glass and see that it’s still half full. I swig the contents, struggling to keep it down without gagging then nod.

  “And another one for my friend,” Roxie adds.

  The waitress is still staring at Roxie in awe. “I loved your show.”

  “Thanks,” Roxie says. She and the waitress continue to look at each other until the waitress finally snaps out of her awe-inspired trance.

  “I’d better get those drinks,” the waitress says finally as she turns and makes her way to the bar.

  “So, what’s the deal with you and Mr. Hottie from class?” Roxie asks. She definitely doesn’t beat around the bush.

  “You mean Aaron?” I clarify.

  “Well, I definitely don’t mean Les.”

  I think about how much I want to reveal to Roxie. I can definitely use an ally but I need to figure out if she’s as ruthless and cunning as I suspect she i
s.

  “We’ve been friends since we were kids,” I start.

  “But you want more,” Roxie finishes my thought.

  “I want a lot more,” I admit.

  “So what’s the problem?’ Roxie asks.

  “His fiancé, Rainy Dey.”

  Roxie raises an eyebrow. “How is she a problem?”

  I grin because it’s obvious that Roxie is as ruthless and cunning as I suspected. And she’ll be the perfect ally in my scheme to get Aaron.

  I tell Roxie everything. How I’ve been in love with Aaron for years. How much our parents want us to be together. Everything I know about his relationship with Rainy.

  I completely spill my guts over multiple rounds of Maker’s Mark.

  Then I tell her that I want her help in devising a plan to get Aaron and she readily agrees.

  “I love the way your mind works,” she says. Her words are a bit slurred after our sixth or seventh round of drinks. I’ve completely lost count. “Ever given any thought to producing reality television?”

  I start laughing and I can’t stop. I’ve never even seen a reality show and here I am sitting with a reality show star and apparently one of the biggest reality show producers in the business. It’s surreal. I wonder what my parents would think about it.

  When the waitress comes back to our table, I know I’m in trouble because I’m seeing two of her.

  “Another round?” she says but it sounds like she’s talking to us from underwater even though we’re still in the bar.

  I can feel myself shake my head but my head feels like it’s somehow disconnected from my body.

  “I could still drink a few more,” Roxie slurs. “That means I win our little wager.”

  When I point at Roxie, my arm feels fake. “Prove it,” I slur.

  “Another drink,” Roxie snaps but the waitress looks concerned.

  “Maybe you’ve had enough,” the waitress replies.

  “It’s not over until the fat lady sings,” Roxie belts out.

  I laugh. “I don’t think I want to hear you sing.”

  “We’ll take the check,” Roxie states.