Her arm circles my neck. “You used to be, but you’re not anymore. You’re far more than a friend.”
38
Weston
It’s New Year’s Eve and Special is having a huge celebration at A Special Place because of the football bowl game being played. She’s offering all kinds of New Year’s Eve drink specials and even has arranged transportation deals for people who bought advanced tickets. Prescott is supposed to arrive this afternoon. I’m waiting for him, and then later we’ll head over to A Special Place.
After our conversation about Cody, I called Jeb the following day.
“So she finally told you,” he said.
“Yeah. I’m trying to talk her into moving into that apartment. Do you think Cody’s safe now?”
Jeb didn’t answer right away, but then he said, “I think it would be fine. But she’s going to have a tough time persuading Mimi to move.”
“That’s what she said. I promised her I’d add extra security to the place.”
“Great idea.”
I’m so lost in my thoughts thinking about my conversation with Jeb, I almost miss my phone buzzing. It’s Prescott.
“Hey, I’m on the way. Should be there in about fifteen.”
“Great. Just let them know who you are at the desk. I already gave them your name.”
And about fifteen minutes later, he’s pounding on my door.
When I open it, he barrels in and gives me one of his man hugs, beating me on the back with his fists.
“Have you turned into a gorilla or something?”
I get a good look at him when he steps back and say, “Damn, you look like hell.”
“And don’t you look great too, Wyndham.”
“No, really. What the fuck is up with you? When’s the last time you slept eight hours?”
After he shrugs his coat off, he drops onto the couch and stretches his long legs out. Then he runs his hands through his thick hair and says, “No idea. A while.”
“What gives?”
He levels his gold-rimmed eyes at me and asks, “What do you think? Family shit, as usual. Dad wants to disinherit me.” The back of his hand swipes over his mouth.
“No shit?” Prescott’s family has more money than Fort Knox. “What are you going to do?”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “I’m protected because it was my mom’s money, the dumb fuck. He can’t do anything. But it pisses me off. Dad remarried and his wife is a bitch.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a one-hitter and a prescription bottle of weed that has a couple of buds in it. Then he proceeds to pack the little pipe. Prescott has always loved to smoke.
“You’re still doing that shit?”
“You’re not?”
“No, I gave it up after my dad found it in my desk at work and threatened to call the cops.”
“Fuck that. It’s legal in so many states now.” He holds up his bottle, shakes it, and tosses it over to me. The damn thing looks totally legit. He holds up his pipe, offering me some, but I decline.
“Good thing you have your own plane,” I say, “or you wouldn’t be flying with that.”
He raises a brow. “This amount? It’s only a misdemeanor. I’d take my chances on commercial and check it. So, where’s Special? I thought she’d be here.”
“She’s working. We’re going to her place in a little while.”
“Her place?”
“Remember? I told you she owned a sports bar and restaurant? It’s open tonight so we’re going there to hang.”
“Gotcha. Does she have any hot friends I can bang while I’m here? You know, ring in the new year with some Georgia pussy?”
“No, and if she did, I wouldn’t tell you about them.”
“Hey, I’m your best friend. Why the hell not? You’re supposed to look out for me.”
“Not when you fuck ’em and chuck ’em the way you do.”
His brows shoot to the heavens. “My God. Is this Weston Wyndham speaking? Former fuck monster in college?”
“Those days are long gone. I only did that because I didn’t want a steady girlfriend. I never had time because I was working my ass off.”
Prescott’s eyes now have a slight glaze to them. “Yeah, likely story. You adored all that pussy and didn’t want to settle for one.”
There’s no use in arguing with him. And to be honest, he’s partially right. I did love fucking around. Women were easy to get back then. I could blend in while I was in college. In Atlanta, though, it’s another story. Everyone knows who I am, and they want to sink their claws into my money.
“So, Scotty boy, what are you gonna do now?” I ask.
“I can’t hang around my old man. That bitch wife of his told him I was hitting on her.”
“Say what?”
“Yeah. But her details were a bit skewed.”
He takes another hit off his pipe and blows out a long, thin stream of smoke.
“See, she’s the one who was moving on me.”
“Fuck me. That sucks every which way you look at it.”
“Doesn’t it now?” He aims his pipe at me and says, “You know, I’ve always been an asshole, but this time I tried my best to be nice to the cunt. And it backfired like crazy on me. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to persuade my father to write me out of his will.” He lets out a nasty laugh. “The stupid cunt doesn’t know that my money isn’t from him and he can’t do shit with it. That’s fucking sealed in concrete.”
“Man, I’m sorry you’re dealing with this. It sucks. Have you spoken to your grandparents?”
“Oh yeah, and they despise her too. They don’t believe a word she says. They all think my father will come around. All I can say is she must suck cock like a champ.”
“Yeah, but if that’s true, why did she go after you too?”
“Haven’t you been listening? She’s a c-u-n-t. She’s probably fucking the pool boy. Who the hell knows? Enough about my shit. What’s with yours?”
Checking the time, I say, “We need to leave in about an hour. Did you want to take a power nap or a shower?”
“Both. But what about your new venture?”
“Yeah, I’m going to roll with it. It’ll give my dad a fucking stroke too. He’s losing more than fifty percent of his architects and engineers. I’m not sure if the company will hold up. He might get sued for breech of contract, which would land me more business. I’ve also gotten into the commercial real estate market.”
“Damn, you branched out like a fucking tree, didn’t you?”
“As soon as I had that falling out, I made sure my trust was safely invested in another account. I went to my attorney and locked things up. Everything’s good.”
He holds up his fist and we air bump. “You always were a smart fucker.”
“No, I always had to fend for myself, thanks to my shitty family.”
“Yeah, I can relate.”
“At least you have solid grandparents,” I remind him.
“Who used to think I was a crappy kid.”
I raise a shoulder, then lower it. “They didn’t know what was going on in your house. My dad’s parents were dead. And Mom’s parents were—hell, you’ve met my mom. They’re exactly like she is … cold slabs of marble coated in poison.”
He sneers. “And how is sweet Caroline?”
“Simply dandy. She weighs about eighty pounds these days.”
“Ahh, I see she’s put on a few.” Prescott snorts at his jab.
“I took Special to the famous Thanksgiving cocktail party.”
He chokes on his drink. “You did what?”
“Yeah. Wait’ll you meet her, and then you tell me what you think happened.”
“Were you trying to damage the poor woman?”
I’ve asked myself that same question dozens of times. “I warned her and it was selfish of me, but I didn’t want to face them alone this year. And yes, it was a big mistake. Oddly enough, Special didn’t blame me. She called their home the ninth ring of hell.�
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Prescott slaps his leg, and a bark of laughter rings through the room. “She’s exactly right! How’d your sister react?”
“Like you’d expect Blakely to. Oh, hell, wait’ll you hear this.” I share the story of how Special told Evelyn she was a pole-dancing stripper when I was in the hospital. I don’t know if it’s because Prescott is high, or if it’s because the damn tale is funnier than hell, but he has tears rolling down his face by the time I’m through. “The bad thing was I was on pain meds and for a minute I thought she was telling the truth!”
“Aw, Jesus, I wish I had been a fly on the wall. Special’s Strip Squad.”
I don’t dare tell him the truth as to how I ended up in the hospital in the first place. Like everyone else, he thinks it was a construction site accident.
He stands and says he’s going to power nap and shower.
“Fine. I’ll come and let you know when it’s time to leave. I told her we’d be there around six thirty or seven.”
When it’s time to go, we Uber it over there. I know plenty of drinks will be had, so there’s no reason to drive.
When we get to the door, there are a bouncer, a security guy in uniform, and a hostess for the reservation side. The bouncer, who I’ve met before, waves us through. Special hired him per Jeb’s recommendation after the reopening. Jeb thought it was a good idea to have a couple of these guys on hand at night for security purposes. The uniformed guy is for tonight only. He’s also to help insure people get rides home.
Prescott follows me and I introduce him to Jeb.
“Business is happening tonight,” I say.
Jeb grins. “It’s going to get crazy when the game starts.” He looks at Prescott and asks, “You into college football?”
“I’m into anything football.”
“You may be standing for this one,” Jeb says.
“As long as I have good eats and drinks, you’ll get no complaints from me,” Prescott says.
“Speaking of eats, is Princess Spike in the kitchen?”
“Yeah, buried up to her elbows in burgers, I’m sure.”
Nudging Prescott with an elbow, I say, “Let’s go meet her.”
When we get back there, I want to take off my jacket and help her. “Hey, Spike, need a hand?”
She looks up and grins. “Got an extra one?”
Holding up my hands, I say, “Two.”
She’s wearing a baseball cap turned backward and looks cute as hell. She has those plastic gloves on and an apron with all kinds of stains on it, yet I want nothing more than to kiss the sense out of her.
“Prescott, meet Special.”
“So you’re the one who’s made this guy crazy as hell.”
“Nice to meet you, Prescott, and I plead not guilty.” She sticks her tongue between her teeth and grins.
“Looks like you sold a shit ton of tickets,” I say.
The kitchen staff are scurrying around, and the waitstaff are running in and out, carrying orders with them.
“I need some fries,” someone yells.
“Seriously, do you need help?”
“Yeah. Go back there and put an apron on. I’m putting you to work.”
Looking at Prescott, I yell at him to find Jeb and hang out in front. “I’m going to be tied up here until at least ten.”
Prescott leaves and I go to work. It’s easy to do the grunt work. I keep things moving for Special. When dirty dishes come in, I help clean them if they get behind. If more fries are needed, I dump a batch into the fryer after cutting up the potatoes. When someone requires an extra hand somewhere, I provide it. It’s a matter of using my brain and seeing where things are backing up.
Things slow down around ten, and that’s the time the main dining room stops serving. Appetizers will be served until eleven, so we keep those coming. By then, I’m bone-tired.
Special takes off her hat, wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, and slaps the hat back on her head.
A little bit later, someone yells, “Clean up time.”
Out come the buckets, mops, cleaning cloths, sprays, and degreasers.
“What about the dishes?” I ask.
“We can get the prep stations, cooktops, and so on cleaned up. The dishes can be cleaned later,” a busboy answers.
We’ve cycled through more dishes tonight than I can count. I mop the back floor as Special cleans her prep station. Someone else takes care of the cooktop and griddles. In no time, the kitchen is sparkling.
At five minutes before midnight, someone runs in and tells us to join the others to ring in the new year. We make it just in time.
When the year turns over, I grab my girl, pick her up so we’re eye level, and say, “Happy New Year to the most beautiful girl in the world.” Then I plant my lips on hers, and damn if it isn’t the sweetest kiss ever.
“Happy New Year to you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help tonight.” She kisses me again and I think to myself, this is what it’s all about. Life, love, and happiness.
“I love you, Weston Wyndham.”
“Mmm, love you too, Spike.”
Prescott stumbles over to us, more than a little hammered, wraps his beefy arms around the two of us, and tells us Happy New Year. Then he follows with, “I love you, man. I love you so much.” He always gets emotional when he drinks too much. “You’re my person, you know. You and Harrison.” Then he looks at Special and adds, “You can be my person too. Since my man here is in love with you.” Then he leans in and says, “And you must be really something ’cause this dude used to be one pussy loving player.”
“Okay, dude.” I pound him on the back. “That’s enough.”
“No, Prescott, tell me more.” Special jumps on that train faster than I can blink.
“Our guy here wasn’t one to pass up on some hot tail.”
“Prescott,” I warn.
“Is that a fact? Why don’t you tell me the best story you’ve got?”
“Hey,” he looks around, “can we sit down somewhere?”
“Good idea.” Special shimmies out of my arms and leads us to the bar where she orders a round of drinks, not that Prescott needs any more. “So, Prescott, go on,” she prods.
“In high school, there were these two chicks. One adored this guy, and the other was all over me.”
“You were a shit to her,” I say. “And she did everything for you except your fucking homework. Oh, that’s right. You paid that other poor girl to do that.”
Prescott dips his head and says, “Yeah, I did. I sucked back then. But you were getting sucked—every day if I recall correctly.”
“Will you shut up already?”
“Special, this guy probably got his pole polished more—”
“All right, that’s enough.” I stand up and take Special’s hand. “I can’t listen to this anymore.” She giggles. “You think it’s funny?”
“He is pretty shit-faced,” she says.
“What if I were listening to Sasha say those things about you?”
Her smile droops and the sparkle disappears from her eyes. Now why did I go and say something so stupid such as that?
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for and ridiculous too,” I say.
“No, you’re right. It was embarrassing for you to have to listen to, and I should’ve been more sensitive to it.” Her arms go around my waist and she hugs me. “Are we good?”
“We’re always good. A few words aren’t going to do anything to ruin what’s between us.”
The room is thinning and Prescott sways a bit in his seat. “You ready to get out of here?” I ask Special.
“Yeah. Let me finish up in the kitchen. I’ll be out in fifteen.”
When she leaves, I give Prescott hell.
“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t think.”
“No shit.”
When Special comes out, we say our good-byes and hop into the waiting Uber. She’s staying with me tonight. On the way home, Prescott compliments her on the
restaurant. He was impressed with everything about it.
“So, where are you from?” she asks him.
“From New York City, but my family spends a lot of time in West Palm Beach.”
The ride isn’t long and we arrive at my building in no time. When we get inside my place, Special wants to shower. “I feel like a chicken finger.”
Prescott, as his usual style, says, “But do you taste like one?”
She smacks him on the arm, in a good-natured manner, and heads to the bathroom. Damn, I wish I could join her.
As if reading my mind, Prescott says, “Why are you still here? Aren’t you gonna go bang out a quickie?”
“Fuck you,” I say, walking out of the room.
“No, you fuck her.”
I laugh all the way to the spacious shower where Special is already soaped up. She practically jumps through the ceiling when I put my hands on her hips.
“Hell! You scared me!”
“Sorry. I didn’t want you to shower all by yourself.” Then I start shampooing her hair. After she’s rinsed and conditioned, I quickly shower and wash my own.
Her hand, warm and slick with soap, wraps around my dick and pumps up and down.
“Your friend Prescott is a tattletale.”
“Yesss.” Enough of her hand. I pick her up and impale her and then capture her mouth in a hot, wet kiss.
I press her against the marble tiles as I ruthlessly thrust into her over and over until she screams out her orgasm. Her heels dig into my ass, and when her inner muscles spasm around my cock, I can’t take it anymore and spill my release into her.
“I’m sorry I had to make it quick. Prescott is out there.”
“I know, but I’m glad you joined me. Quick is better than nothing.” She kisses me again before I disengage myself from her.
After we rinse off, I wrap her in a fluffy towel and we dry off.
When we rejoin Prescott, he’s watching the New Year’s special on TV. He smirks and raises his glass. I’m not even sure what he’s drinking. His little pipe is lying on the coffee table. He gestures toward it and asks Special if she’d like some.
“Uh, no thanks. I don’t partake. My friend died from her drug addiction, so I don’t use. Only drink a little.”
A Special Obsession Page 28
