by Mira Bailee
Devon walks to the rear passenger door and opens it. “So?” He looks at me. “What are you waiting for?”
“Fine. Okay. Thank you.” I shut my own car door and approach him. “But what’s the catch?”
“No catch.” He adds in an innocent, puppy dog face. “I’m here to help.”
“Mhmm.” I step past him and climb into the backseat.
The driver turns and reaches his hand back to shake mine. “I’m Mark. Where’re we headed?”
“Olivia,” I say, returning the handshake. “And Exotic Blooms—the florist.” I add the extra emphasis and hear Devon chuckle from outside.
Mark nods and turns back around. This will be easier. No getting lost. No ending up at a completely different and uncomfortable location. But Devon still waits by the open door. What should I say to him? I know you’re up to something, so you can just wait here until I get back?
I can’t even make eye contact without smiling though. “What?” I ask him, not bothering to hide my improving mood.
“I mean,” he starts. “I’d hate for you to be lonely in that seat. All by yourself. No one to talk to.”
“I can talk to Mark.”
“Sorry ma’am,” Mark interjects. “Mr. Stone has a strict no-talking-while-driving rule.”
“You’re making that up,” I say to him and then turn to Devon. “He’s making that up.”
I know he’s holding out until he hears exactly what he wants. With that mystery and intrigue mixed with stubborn sexiness, I can’t imagine anyone being able to tell him no.
“Fine.” I sigh and scoot over. “Let’s go. I hope you’re bored out of your mind.”
“Nothing’s boring with me,” he says, sliding into the seat next to me.
And I believe him.
It’s only when we’re in the closed confines of the backseat that I notice my pulse quickening. It was one thing talking to him in the open space of the patio. I felt relaxed and was more curious by his random moment of interest in me to even second-guess what I was doing. But in here, aside from Mark, I feel like we’re somewhere private. My mind is a mush of thoughts.
He’s so close. I want to touch him. The heat from being outside has given his skin a light sheen of sweat. He’d be salty to the taste. I want to taste him.
I force myself to turn back toward the window while I steady my breathing.
We’re passing the gates when he speaks. “Look at me.”
An order.
One of his hands finds my chin, making me turn in his direction. What does he want? Is he going to kiss me? Maybe I should let him. Wait, why would he do that? We don’t even know each other. But then, why would he—
“If you’re gawking out the window, the pap assholes will get you in a shot. Unless you want to be plastered in a tabloid…”
Oh. So he’s being helpful again.
He drops his hand, and I feel my cheeks warm realizing all my instant assumptions were way off base. “Thanks,” I say, meekly.
“You fascinate me, you know.”
“What, like a sideshow?” Are the ratty jeans and tee his way of mocking me? I know I’m not rich and glamorous, but I’m put together decently. He smiles, and I know that’s not at all what he meant.
“The exact opposite.” He looks out toward the passing buildings and the beach beyond them. “It’s funny. I’d almost believe you really don’t know who I am. The way you act…you’re not like most girls I come across.”
Because I don’t know him. Other than what I saw online and the whole “Lust List” thing. Number Three, I remind myself. But I can’t let him know that. Then I would be exactly like those girls he’s talking about. I decide to challenge him instead. “How do you expect me to know you, when you haven’t told me anything about yourself?”
He waits a long moment before answering, and I wonder if he’s just going to redirect our conversation again.
“I have a father and a brother—both of whom have their heads shoved up their asses. This party you’re throwing? It’s for my dad to announce his retirement—as though it’s a surprise for anyone. The even bigger non-surprise is he’s giving Kaidan everything, the entire company.”
“And you want it?”
“Hell no. But even if I did, they wrote me off a long time ago.”
“Why?” Maybe Devon Stone doesn’t always get what he wants. It’s not the label he cares about though. The tone in his voice makes it clear there’s more to it than business.
“I never kissed their asses. I didn’t care about the fame or the money. Even with its perks, it comes with more than that. That’s what people don’t realize. You’re a celebrity? Great. Here’s a one-way ticket to bad decisions and addictions and an all out rampage on your psychological well-being. People use you. They stick you up on this pedestal and expect you to be a god. But then they exploit you and make up all sorts of shit to make you look like trash.” He runs a hand through his hair as he continues. I’m baffled by how extraordinarily normal he seems right now. I did automatically assume he was privileged and lucky. That he got whatever he wanted and never had to worry about anything. The reality made him seem almost…ordinary, making me feel bad for him. “So while the wonderful Kaidan continues to honor the family legacy, Devon Stone is the officially-licensed punching bag of the Stone Empire.”
Wow. “I don’t know what to say. That’s… I mean, how could they do that to you?”
He laughs. “Don’t get me wrong. I did my share to earn my reputation, but they just made it easier to give in to the dark side.”
I smile though I don’t believe for one second that all this doesn’t hurt him deeper than his ‘bad boy’ exterior. “So then why do you hang around there? You should get on with your own life and cut them loose.”
“I have business to attend to right now. Suspicions I need to clarify. You’ve caught me at an odd time. Usually, I don’t step foot near that house.”
“So where do you live?”
Devon reaches over and pushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s top secret information.” He gives me that grin that makes me dissolve into a flutter of nerves, and before I can ask anything else, we pull into a parking lot and come to a stop.
Devon hops out of the SUV to open my door like a perfect gentleman, and I step out smoothing out my shirt. My mind is reeling from the amount of information I just got from him. As sexy as “Lust List” Devon is, this new version—Sincere Devon—is irresistibly alluring. It’s like we’re two, normal people facing our own collection of demons.
Another car pulls into a space near us as I grab my purse.
There’s a quiet pause after Devon closes the door, and then click.
“Fuck.” Devon takes my hand and pulls me inside the shop in a rush. He yanks the door closed and reaches up to twist the lock. “Sorry. They’re everywhere.”
So much for ordinary.
Two paparazzi climb out of the car, still snapping away as a second car pulls in, not bothering to park in a designated spot.
“Are these the same people from the mansion?” I ask, attempting to cover my face with my purse.
“Around here, who knows? There are so many of them, don’t bother trying to tell them apart.”
I try to put distance between me and the shop windows where three camera lenses are pressed against the glass. I’m sick to my stomach knowing Devon has to deal with this frequently. Having unwanted pictures taken of him and then plastered all over. I’m lucky to be out of the spotlight.
But I’m not. They’re clearly taking photos of both of us. I can’t help but glance back. Click. Click. Still there and aiming right at me.
“How do I make them stop?” I don’t want them here. It’s horrifying. Violating. And there’s no way I’m leaving this store until they go away.
“There is no making them stop.” Devon eyes me carefully. “Are you okay?”
No. The constant clicking. The forced attention. It reminds me of something else…
I hid up in my room for over a week, knowing if I tried to leave the house they’d be out there with their questions. “How are you handling the tragic loss of your only brother?”
“When do you plan to return to school?”
“How does it feel knowing the alleged murderers walked the same halls, shared the same teachers? Same classes?”
I blink back tears and steady my breathing hoping Devon isn’t paying that much attention. “I’m fine. Let’s just…” I walk to the counter where the florist is waiting, hardly fazed by the fiasco outside.
The sweet-looking, older woman brings out samples of centerpieces, and they’re all larger than life and gorgeous. Enormous bunches of white and cream roses and lilies and hydrangeas. I’m in awe of the last one on the end. Orchids.
I’m drawn to them like a magnet. “These have always been my favorite,” I tell no one in particular. “Each one is so extraordinary it stands beautifully all by itself.”
I’m admiring the natural splendor when my phone begins to ring. It’s Keenly, and he repeats what he said before. I’m not to make any decisions. So I hang up, take a photo of the flowers to send to him, and he tells me to order the roses.
I relay this information to the florist. “He wants twenty of the full centerpieces and eight hundred extra stems—half cream and half white—of the—”
“Orchids,” Devon finishes. “All white. However many you have, and make them look as good as that.” He points to the arrangement.
“No, Mr. Keenly said—”
“I don’t care what he said. Those orchids are perfect. Each one, all on its own. It doesn’t need a bunch of other pretty flowers to be stunning.” He’s staring straight at me, not looking at a single flower. “It just stands on its own in sheer beauty.” He turns back to the florist while my heart flutters. “Also, I’m the boss. I can override his requests. It gives me great pleasure to do so.” He adds a wink in my direction that’s either to confirm his hatred for Keenly or to flirt with me further. I have no idea. I’m far from in control here. Every cell in my body is fighting the urge to flee and return to normal life—whatever normal is. I can’t remember right now.
We finish ordering and get ready to leave. I hesitate and Devon notices. “Come on. It’s okay.”
He wraps an arm around me and makes for the door with his usual confidence and sense of authority. He pushes it open with enough force that the paparazzi waiting jump back and make space for us. I notice none of them get close enough to make physical contact.
I keep myself focused on the car, getting in as fast as I can, and when I’m safely behind the tinted glass, my mind wanders to what just happened in the store. Devon was just being nice, right? He knew I was uncomfortable, so he did something kind to distract me. He hates Keenly and resents his family, so of course, he’d go out of his way to be passive aggressive.
Devon opens his door, and I can hear he’s yelling at one of the camera guys. “…Like last time. You understand, dickhead?”
He climbs in and slams the door shut. The clicking of shutters continues as we pull away. Then they rush back to their vehicles and race to catch up. I slouch down in my seat not wanting them to see even the top of my head.
“You can just ignore them now,” he says, as if reading my mind.
How can he just forget about them so easily? They’re following us. “I’m surprised they don’t get all in your face. I suppose there’s some humanity in them.”
“That’s not them being polite. I’ve punched one too many. They know I don’t play games.”
Oh. “So you just…hit them?” It’s almost comical.
He doesn’t laugh. “Sure. I just hit them. Then I just got arrested. And then just had to do community service. And just had to deal with the aftermath from my father. And every moment was just covered in the same trashy tabloids those assholes sell their photos to, beginning the circle again.”
It’s not so comical anymore.
“You’ve truly never been involved with any of this before?” He smiles. “I think my first baby photos were even taken by them.”
I shake my head. “I have no idea how you live the way you do. I’m not sure I’d want to if I had the choice.”
“At least you’d have the choice.”
He reaches over and lifts my chin to meet his gaze again. His hand, so soft yet powerful, matches the look in his eyes, and I can feel the heat radiating between us. “I like that about you.”
“Like what?”
“I know you’re not into all this. Yet, you’re curious what it would be like if this were your life.”
Sure. What would it be like to date him? Are celebrities even the dinner-and-a-movie type of people? I highly doubt that. But I’m not the type of person who will find out. Even the fantasy of it all is too much.
“I’m not curious. I’m perfectly content with my own…” I trail off, knowing whatever I said next would be a lie.
And then Devon leans in, and his lips meet mine. My breath catches in my throat, and I give in to his kiss. Never mind, I am curious. I want to be a part of his life. I don’t care what goes with it. The cameras and the chaos. I’ll deal with it all if I can have this.
…If I can have him.
Devon Stone kisses with a sense of mischief. His warm lips graze mine slowly at first. But then he doesn’t hesitate to add enough force to pull my mouth open and tease me with his tongue. Running it along my upper lip, he brings all my senses to life. Then he crushes his mouth against mine, kissing me with urgency, only to pull away and leave me wanting more. So much more.
I’m breathless and can’t think straight. What was that? Why? He could have any other girl, yet after three days of his strange behavior with me, he proves he’s even more unpredictable.
“Mark. Take us to the docks, buddy.” He turns to me, his fingers tracing a circle on my knee. “I’ll take you somewhere special.”
Okay. I don’t even care to ask where. I’d go anywhere with him.
Holy shit. I’d go anywhere with him.
I feel myself stiffen from that terrifying realization. No. That’s not an option. I have to speak up. “I can’t,” I blurt out. “Sorry. I’m working. I need to get back, and…”
“And let your boss treat you like dirt some more? It’s just one afternoon. You can work later.”
“No. Devon. I…just. No.” I speak up for Mark. “I have to head back, but thank you.” He nods but returns to ignoring his passengers.
Devon leans back in his seat. “Olivia. Come on. It’s not a big deal—”
“It is. I have a job. I’m on the clock.” And I’m your employee. A middle-class worker. Not some rock star, supermodel. “Listen, I don’t know what you want from me.” I was right. He did have a motive. “I could tell you were up to something when—”
“Up to what? We hung out. Things were fine. You—”
“What about yesterday, when you barely knew my name? Or the day before when you blew me off? Or the day before that, when—oh that’s right, you didn’t even know I existed. So you’re suddenly nice to me now? You go with me to order flowers for a party you don’t care about. You kiss me? And I’m supposed to believe you have no intentions here?”
“Right. Because I can’t just be a nice guy getting to know a nice girl?”
He admitted his own violent streak. He’s been arrested. He’s got an entire history of not being a nice guy. “I don’t know what to think Devon. We don’t know each other. I’m not going to ditch my job—which is important to me—to do whatever it is you expect me to do with you.” No matter how much I want to.
“You think I wanted to take you somewhere to fuck? Is that it?”
“Am I that far off after the open invitation you gave me two days ago?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Maybe I had it wrong. Maybe you aren’t much different from others.”
“Don’t say that. You don’
t know me—”
“And you’re not giving me much of a chance to.” He’s starting to raise his voice.
“Was that part of the job description I missed—set aside time for Devon to get to know the assistant to the assistant? I don’t recall seeing that on Mr. Keenly’s to-do lists yet, so sorry. I haven’t given you a chance to know me when you had zero interest yesterday.”
I shift in the seat so I can look out my window instead. What did he want from me? Suddenly we’re friends? Suddenly we’re more than that? What did I miss, and how the hell am I the bad guy for being responsible?
We ride the rest of the way in silence, the heat between us long gone and replaced with suffocating tension. When we get back to the house, Devon doesn’t bother to play the gentleman role anymore, and instead, marches toward the back of the house as I make my way to the front doors. I hesitate on the steps trying to remember why I’m here. It’s a job. Just a job.
I go inside knowing that the wrath of Keenly is now nothing compared to whatever just happened between me and Devon.
I didn’t warn Maddie about the spectacle she’d be walking into when she got home. I can’t stop thinking about Devon. I don’t know if I’m more angry or enamored. I’m pissed off from our argument and how he just disappeared after. But something happened today. He opened up to me, and he didn’t have to. He went out of his way to defend me in front of Keenly and then accompany me on a mindless errand. And he didn’t have to. I’m not an idiot. There’s something going on.
And I have to figure out how to put a stop to it. For all I know, he’s done with me, but I need to convince myself I’m not interested in him at all. Unfortunately, I’m an awful liar, especially with myself.
So here’s the sight Maddie sees when she gets home. Her pitiful roommate is lying on the couch staring at the TV that’s not only off, it’s unplugged too. But I hadn’t stopped there. Before falling into a comatose state on the couch, I disconnected the Internet, hid my laptop and cell phone in Maddie’s room, and I shoved the love seat in front of her door.
