“Yes, ma’am. Much better, thank you.” I cough.
She crosses her arms and stares. “Are you sure you should be going out so soon after you’ve been sick?”
“I’m fine, really, Mimi.” I tug at my collar. It’s a bit warm in here.
“Well, if you’re not well enough to bring Special back out here tonight, don’t you worry about it. You need to take better care of yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Note to self: rub one off before my next date with Special.
“You kids get on out of here and have yourself a nice dinner.”
“Thank you, Mimi,” I say.
Special glances at me and we head out to the car. When she sees the Ferrari, she says, “Ah, you brought the fancy one.”
“Yeah, I don’t drive it very often so I figured, why not?”
By the time we arrive at the restaurant, my boner’s gone. Thank God. Maybe now I can act normally.
I chose this place because it’s an eclectic eatery that has something for everyone. It’s casual with a cool flair, and when we walk in, Special seems happy with my choice. I have a reservation, so we’re immediately shown to our table. It’s actually a booth, which I prefer, so we can have more privacy than out in the open.
“Look, only three pieces of silverware,” I say. She grins.
After we order our food and drinks, I tell her what my attorney friend told me.
“That’s not very encouraging. If he doesn’t have any insurance coverage, does that mean we can’t get anything?”
“Let me explain. He has insurance coverage. You’ll be suing him for damages because you’ve been unable to work. So if his policy is insufficient to handle that, unless he has a sizable bank account or owns a lot of property, you may not collect much. My friend is worried because he thinks if he had money, someone would’ve posted bail for him. You did say he was still in jail, right?”
She picks up a fork and rolls it around in her fingers. I’d like those fingers to play with my dick like that. Fuck! Stop that train of thought and pay attention.
Special says, “I don’t know. I’m worried about losing all the employees because they can’t go without work. I don’t blame them because the holiday season is coming up.” She sighs as though the weight of the world is on her shoulders, and I suppose it is.
“Maybe he made bail after all.”
She squeezes the bridge of her nose. “I’m not sure it matters. Even if he has money, I don’t know if it would be enough to buy the building, because that’s what I’m going to have to do to save the bar. I spoke with the owners of the wine and cheese shop next door, and we talked about buying the building together. They’re in the same boat I’m in. Their business was killing it too, but they can’t afford the real estate either.”
“What if someone else buys the building and wants to keep the tenants? You haven’t even thought about that. When commercial real estate goes on the market, that’s one of the things they use as a selling point. A potential buyer will look at the existing businesses to see how profitable or productive they are. No one wants to buy something in an area that’s not thriving. And the leases you both signed are legally binding. Your landlord has to keep you on as would the new owner.”
Special perks up and I’m pretty surprised she hasn’t already thought of this. “Don’t tell me this hasn’t crossed your mind.”
“No, it has. I’m actually in negotiations right now. My lease expires in two months and we’d been discussing my new terms. But what if someone buys the building and wants to use it for something else entirely? Like make it into one gigantic shop, instead of the boutiques you commonly see where we are. With my lease expiring, I could be out.” She has a good point.
“Do you honestly think that would happen?” I ask.
“Did anyone think Wal-Mart would happen?”
She’s right. “Point taken. However, for a change that drastic, it would have to be rezoned and that takes a lot more than most people want to deal with. Have you asked Mimi for help? She has all that land as collateral.”
“You and Jeb. She offered, but I’ll never ever take a penny from her. She was burdened with raising me, and now helping me with Cody. I won’t add to it by sticking her with a mortgage. I don’t want her risking a penny of her money.”
As we discuss her dilemma, the waiter brings us our food.
“One thing you must consider is the driver’s insurance company has to at least pay for the repairs to the building. So whoever ends up owning the building will have that portion paid for.” She contemplates what I say.
“True. But the new owners may not want another bar in there.”
She’s right. “That’s something to think about.”
As we’re talking, we’re interrupted by a shrill sounding voice. “Well, look who’s here.” We both turn to see Evelyn, my sister’s friend, standing a few feet from our table. Oh, this is going to be very painful.
“Hello, Evelyn. How are you?” I ask.
“I’m well. You look better than the last time we saw each other.” Then she turns to Special and her expression sours. “Sharon, how are you? You’re looking rather …”
I butt in, saying, “Absolutely gorgeous, isn’t she? And it’s Special, Evelyn, not Sharon.” I reach for her hand. Special turns a beautiful shade of rose as she tries to tug her hand away, only I don’t allow it.
Evelyn’s mouth pinches even tighter, if that’s possible. “Oh. I imagine you’ll be at your family’s traditional Thanksgiving cocktail party on Wednesday night, won’t you? Blakely invited me so I plan to come.”
Ah, fuck. I’d forgotten that next week is Thanksgiving and I need to go to that thing. Not only show up, but my parents will also expect me to bring a date. Knowing Evelyn, she’s aware of this and is no doubt planning on how she can finagle a date out of me. This year,my plans are different.
“Yeah, Special and I will be there,” I say, giving Special’s hand a squeeze.
Evelyn gasps. “You can’t take her. Why, that would just not be right.”
“Why?” I wait for the insult. This time I’m prepared to fight back.
“B-because … your father.”
“What about him?”
“He-he won’t like it. That’s all,” she stammers. Evelyn is right. He won’t, but I don’t give a fuck. He’s never liked anything I’ve done, so what difference does it make? I like it, and that’s all that matters.
“Evelyn, my father doesn’t have a choice in what I do or don’t do. I’m a grown man and make my own decisions.”
Evelyn lifts her shoulders, squares them, and says, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your dinner.” Then she flounces off. Good riddance.
Special clears her throat. “Ahem. For your information, I will not go to any cocktail party with you if Evelyn, or anyone like her, will be there.”
“Yeah, I figured you’d say that. But what if I said I needed you there?”
“What do you mean?”
Inching a little closer, I explain, “I hate going to those parties as much as you think you would. Please come and rescue me.” I fold my hands in prayer and give her one of my most devastating smiles.
“But it’s your world. Those are your people.”
“They’re not. They’re my parents’ people, my sister’s people—not mine. My parents hate me. My father’s an ass. My mother only cares about herself. I could tell you stories that … oh, forget it.” I shrug and flick my hand. “You’re right. I would be bringing you into a hornets’ nest. It would test your strength of character to be sure.”
I’m not joking one bit. Then I get the shock of my life.
“I’ll do it.”
“What?” I look at her like she’s nuts.
“You heard me,” she said.
“You’d willingly put yourself in that position? With people you don’t like, or at least feel inadequate around—your words not mine?”
She carefully slices off another piece of steak and put
s it in her mouth. After slowly chewing and swallowing, she says, “Yes, only because I’ll be with you.”
“Wait a second. Just to be clear, you have agreed, without duress, to go with me to my parents’ home to attend their annual Thanksgiving cocktail party where every wealthy snob in Atlanta will be hanging out.”
“Yeah, I have. It does sound crazy now that I hear you saying it.”
“Are you absolutely sure about this, because I want you to have no doubts about your decision?”
“I’m sure.”
I set my silverware down, then lean back in the booth. I chuckle. “Will you do me a huge favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Wear something sleeveless.”
“Oh, I don’t …”
“Please, Special.”
“Weston, meeting them will be bad enough. When they hear my name, they’ll laugh in my face. But my ink. God, just imagine. I’ll gladly pass on that kind of unwanted attention.”
I get her point, but I want them to see some of it. She’s gorgeous and so is her ink. It’s a shame for it to be hidden.
“How about a compromise? Wear sleeves up to here?” I indicate on my forearms where I’m talking about.
“Possibly, but only if I have something appropriate. How dressy is it, because I don’t have that many options.”
“A black dress would work. I’ll be wearing a suit and tie.”
“I can work something out.”
I gaze at her appreciatively. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“Neither can I. I’m pretty sure my mind went on vacation.”
We finish up dinner by talking about the building. Then she asks, “Do you want to see it?”
It’s hard for me to not tell her I already have. Since I’ve considered buying the place, I had a realtor show me around at lunch today. We didn’t walk into the bar since I’d been before, but the wine and cheese shop was in full swing when I dropped by. The two apartments upstairs are spacious and I was pleased to see they had been recently renovated. Overall, it’s an excellent property and I was relieved to see the structural integrity of the building is sound. The crash only involved the front glass and lower brick.
“Sure. I haven’t seen the damage.”
We drive over, and when I walk inside, it’s disturbing to see how much destruction there is. “Jesus, Special, you and Jeb could’ve been killed.”
“That’s exactly what my landlord says.”
I check the front of the building and the reinforcements. Most buildings don’t have a structure within them that could stop a car from crashing through, but it’s possible to add it. Since construction will take place in the near future, it would be an excellent safety feature to add.
This building represents too much income to pass up. I decide to make an offer on it. My dilemma is do I let Special know or not? I need to run it by Jeb. He’ll be able to advise me.
“What are you looking at?” she asks.
“It would be a good idea for the construction company to add some reinforcements here. It could prevent this from happening again.”
“I doubt they’ll do anything until a buyer is found.”
“You’re probably right. I can’t believe how bad this is and how close you came to getting run over.”
“Yeah, well, Jeb did get run over.”
“Wow, you two were damn lucky.”
We’re standing so close we bump into one another. It’s sort of awkward because she stumbles backward. I reach out my arm to steady her, and at the same time her hand grabs onto me to prevent her from going down. We stand there, staring at each other, neither of us wanting to move or break the connection. We’re caught in the moment, eyes locked on each other. I try to pull my gaze away from her mouth, the way her lips part, the deep chocolate brown of her irises, and her glossy black hair, but it’s impossible.
Then before I even can think, she stands on her tiptoes and leans in to press her mouth on mine. Fuck me dead.
There’s no way I can let her go now. This is what I’ve wanted. All I’ve wanted, but I don’t want to take too much too fast because she’s been so skittish in the past. So I let her do all the leading, only it’s not easy. In fact, it’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. When she whispers my name against my lips, I want to throw her over my shoulder like a fucking caveman and carry her off into the night. But again, I clamp down my control and act the gentleman.
“Kiss me back.”
“Special, you don’t know what you’re asking. If I start, I may not be able to stop.”
“Yes, you will, because I’ll make you.”
“Ah, my Princess Spike is back.”
“Mmmhmm.”
I set her away from me and her expression registers shock. “Are we friends?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You told me we couldn’t be friends. You said we were too different and all that crap,” I remind her.
She offers me a shy smile, which is odd coming from her. “Yeah, we can be friends.”
“Then let’s take this thing between us slow.”
Her smile grows. “You’re a pretty good guy, Weston.”
“I hope you think so.”
21
Special
Closely checking every tiny detail for flaws, I inspect my reflection in the mirror. They’re there, only they’re disguised. The dress is old, the lace frayed in several areas. If one looks closely, the tiny stitches used to mend it can be seen. Hopefully the lights will be dimmed so no one will notice. Who am I kidding? Those people will home in on me like a heat seeking missile. I’m not wearing designer clothing so I’m sure someone will make a snide remark, but at least I’ll be prepared for it. Wait until they see my shoes. Evelyn will love them. Red fuck me pumps. Maybe I should mention they were the ones I wore when I tore my ACL.
My apartment doorbell buzzes. When I open the door, Weston stands there looking gorgeous. He wears a navy suit, crisp pale blue shirt, and a patterned tie with navy, pale blue, and green. He looks like he stepped out of the pages of a magazine.
“Wow. You look great,” I say.
“So do you. Love those shoes.” I watch his neck as he swallows. What is it with men and stilettos?
“Yeah, you should see me wear these when I’m on the pole.”
He doesn’t speak, though he does raise a single brow.
“The pole, huh?”
“Yeah. The heels are a huge hit.”
“I’m sure. Are you ready to face the wolves?”
“You mean the pit vipers? I am. Can’t you see my suit of armor?”
He offers me his arm and off we go. His parents reside in one of the stately mansions Buckhead is noted for. When we pull up, there are valet parking attendants waiting.
“Nice,” I remark.
“Nothing but the best for the Wyndhams,” he replies drily. He stops the car and looks at me. “You sure about this?”
“I’m sure.” In actuality, I’m trembling down to my toes in my red fuck me pumps. I wonder if I click my heels three times and say, “There’s no place like home,” I’ll magically pop back into my apartment. The thought makes me laugh.
“What’s so funny, Spike?”
“What? No Princess?”
“Not tonight. Tonight, you’re my tough little Spike. Put up the fists and keep ’em up. You’re going to need ’em in there, trust me.”
“No warning necessary.” He gets out of the car while a valet opens my door. Weston is there to escort me into the house—er, mansion. “So, this is where you grew up?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it growing up here. I survived. You’ll see what I mean when you meet the Ice Queen and Mr. Congeniality. I did my growing up when I got to boarding school and met my friends, Prescott and Harrison. I’ll tell you about them some other time.”
“Can’t wait to meet everyone here,” I say in exaggerated excitement. Weston chuckles.
When we walk in, som
eone takes my coat, while a waiter stands nearby with a tray of champagne.
“Is champagne your poison? If so, go for it. My parents make sure it’s the best.”
“I’ll pass,” I say. “I prefer not to have the headache it brings.”
“Then let’s go get a real drink.”
He steers me down a hall toward another room. This house is enormous. But it’s also cold and uninviting. Everything is stiff and so expensive looking, it makes me afraid to touch it. We find the bar, where he gets a single malt scotch and I order a chardonnay.
“Let’s mingle,” he says.
Lots of people stop him as he talks and introduces me. They level their granite stares, but I don’t flinch. It’s not easy but I steel my spine, standing stiff with squared shoulders, exactly as I practiced. Before I know it Evelyn is standing in front of us with another woman who must be Weston’s sister. The resemblance is remarkable.
“Blakely,” he says.
“Quinn.” She doesn’t spare him even the briefest of glances. Her eyes examine me, dissecting me like a frog in biology class.
“Blakely, I’d like you to meet Special. Special, this is my sister, Blakely.”
I hold out my hand, saying, “It’s nice to mee—”
“I’m sorry, but did you say Special?” Her tone can best be described as snide with a hint of sarcasm.
And so it begins. “That’s right,” I purr. “Special is my name. Special O’Malley.”
She laughs, not bothering to hold it back.
“Yes, it’s a bit funny, but I do believe I am Special.” I laugh right along with her, but she suddenly stops. Her eyes aren’t kind at all. They’re cruel.
“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you. I would get the name changed.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not me then, because I love my name and wouldn’t change it for anything. Honestly, who can say they’re special and it really be true? You can’t now, can you?” Her mouth sags open. Not a peep comes out of it.
Weston steps in and says, “Retract the claws, Blakely. This is neither the time nor the place.” Her mouth hangs open even further. “And you may want to close your mouth, or the housekeepers will use it as a dust bin.”
A Special Obsession Page 15
