by K. A. Linde
“Don’t be such a cunt then,” he said as a matter-of-fact.
She loved him! Any man who used the c-word as a compliment was someone she could appreciate.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do you want to get lunch? I know this incredible vegan cuisine a block from here. To die for. I took my boyfriend, Dallas—”
Chyna groaned, interrupting his statement.
“there last week. Also, shut up, hooker. And, he fell in love!”
“With you or the food?”
“Well, when I took him home and fucked his brains out…me.”
“Well played.”
“Thank you,” he said with a knowing smirk. “So, lunch?”
“I can’t. I have to meet my boyfriend, Adam—”
Frederick groaned, mimicking her.
“Adam. Also, groan all you want. Take me on a silver platter at your convenience,” she said, spreading her arms wide.
“You couldn’t handle it, sweetheart.” He patted her arm sympathetically.
“Bring it,” she challenged.
Frederick just laughed and followed her out of the boutique. They walked arm and arm down Madison Avenue. Chyna wrapped her cashmere scarf tighter around her neck, bracing against the winter temperatures. They both paused before the new store being constructed on their favorite stretch of Madison.
There was an endless amount of buzz about the new store. An up-and-coming Italian designer had broken Madison before he turned thirty years old. She had hardly been able to believe it until his one-of-a-kinds started circulating in her group of friends. She had been shocked by their style, elegance, and creativity. Today, they had unveiled the gorgeous, shiny gold sign that topped the Italian boutique—Marco’s.
She practically salivated at the store. It was more than perfect. It was her—everything she loved and more.
“Fuck. I can’t wait to get my hands on those clothes,” she said.
“You and everyone else in the city, hun.”
“Why haven’t I requested him to commission something for me yet?” she asked Frederick, reluctantly walking away from the display.
“Probably because he’s not taking orders,” he reminded her.
“Right. Damn. Bad timing for him to go pre-made on me,” she complained.
“Yes, how inconsiderate of him to expand his career. Doesn’t he know better?” Frederick asked with dripping sarcasm.
“I know, right?! Doesn’t he know who I am?”
“I doubt men with that much drive care, sweetie.”
“I’d make him care,” she said with a knowing smirk.
“You’d just get your ass in trouble.”
“Probably,” she agreed with a giggle. “But, I like trouble.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Anyway, girlfriend duties to attend to. Gotta go, lover.” She kissed both of his cheeks before darting across the street to her waiting town car.
Chyna hopped in the backseat and rode off of Madison Avenue. She was supposed to meet Adam at the gym, and then they were going to go get lunch. She was a little early, but that was all right. She liked to see him all sweaty.
Rounding the corner toward the New York Sports Club, her driver pulled up in front of the building.
“You don’t have to wait today, Carl. Adam likes to drive for some unknown reason. Take the rest of the night off.”
“Thank you, Miss Chyna. Have a nice night.”
“You, too, Carl.”
Chyna exited the town car and rushed quickly into the empty gym. The attendant waved her through. She had been here enough that they all recognized her now.
“I think he’s on the basketball courts,” the young perky blonde directed.
She couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Probably getting lost in the city, trying to pursue her dream. Chyna wondered what that was like. She had never loved anything enough to do that.
Pushing aside those thoughts, she opened the door to the courts and entered, slipping silently into the room. Adam was there with one other guy playing one-on-one ball. Both guys were covered in sweat, drenching through their cut-off shirts. Adam’s longish hair was a mop, sticking to his forehead and slinging around as he attempted to maneuver around his opponent. He was so cute and aggressive when he didn’t know she was watching.
Her eyes moved to his opponent just as he stole the ball from Adam. Her eyebrows rose when she got a closer look at him. Hello! Excuse me, who the hell was he? He was even in height with Adam but broader. Gah, those shoulders! His hair was very short brown, almost military cut, but it worked for him. And, tattoos—she was such a sucker for well-placed tattoos. She could see one etched into the inside of his left bicep, and when he raised his arms, another one was written across the side of his right ribs. Where else do you have those?
Tattoo Guy pulled a sharp pivot move on Adam, passed him, and did a layup, scoring. “Game,” he said, raising his eyebrows and that lovely left arm into the air.
Hmm…what was written there?
“Fuck!” Adam cried. “I hate that move.”
“Gets you every time,” he said with a lazy smile.
Oh, this guy was used to winning. Interesting. She knew Adam was really, really good.
Breaking the confrontation, Chyna walked her heeled feet on the court. The clicking noise drew both of their attention. Yep, there it was—interest.
“Hey, baby,” Adam said, rushing over to her with a big goofy grin on his face. He brushed a kiss across her lips, careful not to get her sweaty.
“Hey,” she said, breaking into a smile. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to introduce you two, but there was never a good moment. This is my older brother, John.”
Well, fuck.
“John, this is my girlfriend, Chyna.”
“Nice to meet you,” John said, sticking out his right hand.
She shook it, making eye contact. Well, it’ was still there. Perhaps, John was thinking fuck, too. Adam’s brother was gorgeous. There were similarities between the two, but fucking hell if John wasn’t exactly the kind of guy she normally went for. Just her type.
“You, too. I didn’t realize you were in town.”
“Yeah, I have the long weekend off before I have to fly to Japan on business.”
“Oh, interesting. So glad Adam clued me in,” she said, glancing at her boyfriend.
“Can’t be mad at him. I never told him. I just never know when I’ll be in the city.”
“Ah,” she said with a smile.
“Hey, we’re gonna go clean up, and then let’s get lunch. We won’t be long,” Adam told her.
“All right. I’ll just wait out front.”
Chyna stole a glance at John once more before exiting. He was staring at her rather attentively, his eyes smoldering. She made a hasty retreat. Not good.
She walked off the court and back over to the front desk area. The blonde attendant was on the phone talking insistently to a girlfriend of hers rather loudly. Chyna tried to tune her out as her thoughts drifted to what had just happened.
She didn’t want to be attracted to her boyfriend’s brother. This had never been a problem before because…well, she had never had a boyfriend that she stuck with for more than a couple of weeks. There was something about Adam that she really liked. She wasn’t sure what that was exactly, but she did like him. He wasn’t the kind of guy that she normally went for by a long shot but damn if he wasn’t so sincere. He liked her for who she was and had never cared about anything else—not her money, her family issues, or her illicit social life. He had helped her out in her time of need when he totally could have taken advantage of the situation, and he had asked for nothing in return. She knew labeling someone a nice guy was the kiss of death, but Adam brought nice guy into its own category.
Then, why was she swooning over his brother? Because he had broad shoulders with tattoos and a smirk? She really needed little else.
Why the fu
ck was Alexa at the beach with her boy toy this week? That was so inconvenient. She should have known that Chyna was going to have a hot guy melt-down.
Chyna whipped out her compact and reapplied a coat of lip-gloss. She already knew that she looked good; some guys had been checking her out while she was shopping with Frederick. Still, she wanted to double check. She didn’t want to look sloppy the first time she hung out with her boyfriend’s brother. That was all, right?
God, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t be attracted to John. It was out of the question. She wasn’t like her parents—she didn’t cheat! Inside, she preferred to just not get attached. If she was going to be with Adam, then she was going to fucking be with him. It didn’t mean she couldn’t look at and admire his brother—what girl wouldn’t?—but that was where the line was drawn. She could eye-fuck John and his goddamn tattoos but nothing else. This would be an exercise in self-control. Lord, help us all!
Chyna replaced her mirror into her purse and immediately began chewing on her glossy bottom lip. She could do this. Yep. She could totally do this.
“Hey.” She heard someone call behind her. She turned away from the desk toward the entrance to the locker rooms.
Oh, holy hell! Fuck! Really? How could one man be so attractive? She couldn’t get past that strong jaw, those hazel eyes, and those fucking shoulders. When did he have time to build that Adonis body? All she knew about him was that he worked all the time, and now, she wanted to know everything. Did he actually have that good of taste in clothing, or did he have a personal assistant? Those dark-wash jeans fit him a bit too well, and the green button-up shirt mostly hidden beneath the grey pea coat was outstanding. If he didn’t have someone dress him and he actually had a fashion sense well enough to look like he had walked out of a Barneys catalog, she might die. She would take two, please!
Had she responded to his welcome? She just smiled, deciding it would only sound dumb at this point.
He ran a hand back through his still damp hair and returned her smile. “Adam takes forever to get ready. Thought I’d come out here, so you didn’t have to wait alone,” John said, walking over to where she was leaning against the desk.
“Thanks,” she said, hating her natural instincts right now. She knew she could take him home in a heartbeat. If this were anyone else in any other situation, he would already be in her penthouse, and her tongue would be tracing those tattoos.
“So, what do you do?” John asked, smiling warmly.
“Uh…I’m in between work right now,” she said with an unapologetic shrug. “I try not to define my life by my career. Instead, I just enjoy living it.”
“To define is to limit. I get that,” he said with that smirk.
“Something like that. What do you do exactly that has you leaving for Japan?”
He shrugged as if this was the most boring subject, but he had brought it up.
“International business. I negotiate business transactions overseas for my clients who want to expand their enterprise globally.”
“Huh, sounds like a lot of work,” Chyna commented. She had never wanted to work that much in her life.
“Yeah, it can be. I’m good at languages though. I’d love to be stateside a little bit more, and I’m working on bringing some global companies to the states, but I can’t really complain.”
She wasn’t complaining either. A successful businessman who spoke multiple languages and had tattoos? Where the fuck did he come from?
“Yeah, it must be hard to be away from your family and your girlfriend all the time,” she said, looking up into his hazel eyes. She knew it was a bad line, and he might even see through it, but damn, she couldn’t help herself. She was curious.
He chuckled softly, glancing away. Oh, he had picked up on it all right.
“No girlfriend for me. Not much time, and I’m picky,” he said, returning his eyes to hers.
He could afford to be picky. She cleared her throat and broke eye contact. Keep it together.
“Adam’s always been the girlfriend type anyway.”
“I noticed,” she said with a smile. Adam was an excellent boyfriend. So nice. Too nice. Too good for her. “I’m just getting used to it.”
“To Adam or a boyfriend?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m more of a party girl myself.”
“I can see that.”
What did that mean? And why did it look like he could appreciate a party girl? “When you grow up in Manhattan, it’s just a way of life.”
“I can see that, too.”
Adam jogged out of the locker room then. “So, where are we going?”
Chyna broke away from John. When had they gotten so close, and why did it feel like they gravitated to each other? “Somewhere with a bar,” she answered immediately.
Adam laughed, pulling her close and kissing her lightly on the lips. “Whatever you want.”
It was a promise.
They exited to the garage where Adam’s hybrid sat waiting for them. She slid into the passenger seat, feeling all the more awkward. She’d had her town car for as long as she could remember. She didn’t even know how to drive.
Adam veered into traffic as he directed them across town to a grill he swore by. He pulled into a line for a parking garage, and she tried not to roll her eyes. She hated waiting.
“Just valet the car,” John said with a clear hint of impatience.
Finally, someone who understood!
“It costs more,” Adam responded, not moving.
“But, it’s faster.”
“By only a few minutes,” Adam said, still not budging.
She had never seen him so stubborn. Usually, he was relatively compliant.
“Come on, Adam,” she said, reaching out and touching his arm. “I’ll pay the fare.”
John muttered, “You have only a few years in which to live really, perfectly, and fully…time is jealous of you.”
“Always quoting Wilde,” Adam said with a shake of his head.
This seemed pretty common between them, and for some reason, it got Adam to move the car.
“Always,” John agreed. “The man knew what he was talking about.”
“He was a philandering, flamboyant extremist who saw the world through rose-colored lenses of beauty,” Adam quipped testily.
“Perhaps you should live no other way,” John said with a smirk as Adam pulled in front of the valet.
“Wasn’t he gay?” Chyna asked.
Both guys started laughing at once. Chyna missed the joke.
“Yeah, he was,” John said.
Was she misreading the situation entire? Was John gay?
Chyna looked over her shoulder, turning around in the car to peek at John, who was still chuckling at her. Nope. No way. Not with that look. She could pick out desire like she had a fucking radar.
Adam handed the keys to the guy at the entrance and took a slip from him. The trio walked into the restaurant, and they were instantly ushered to a table. Chyna took off her long black pea coat and handed it to someone to hang for her. Both boys seemed to appreciate her figure, clad in a short V-cut sweater dress that hugged her curves like a glove. She couldn’t have picked a much better outfit for the occasion.
“You look great,” Adam said, kissing her cheek and running his hand across the small of her back before sitting.
“Thanks,” she said, seating herself across from him.
John pulled out a chair and sat down between them.
“I wish I’d known you had the weekend off,” Adam said, turning to his brother. “I would have taken some time off, too.”
“They were impressed with my latest find, so they gave me the time. Wasn’t expecting it to happen.”
“I don’t know why you don’t take all those clients of yours and start your own company. You’re too good to be where you are,” Adam told him.
“I’m doing perfectly fine, and anyway, the Global International name is well-known.”
“Wait, Globa
l!” Chyna gasped.
“See,” John said, gesturing to Chyna.
“My mother worked through Global for a while when they were negotiating the Corsa fashion line,” she explained.
Global International was a huge conglomerate that demanded and received results. Her mother had worked with a partner, of course, but it was rumored that all of the representatives were incredible.
“My point exactly. Anyone who is anyone comes through Global. I’m good right where I am.”
“Who knew a Harvard MBA would get you there?” Adam said with clear admiration in his voice.
Chyna’s ears perked up. Harvard? Was this guy for real? Her dad was a Harvard alum.
“God, you sound like Mom,” John said, running a hand back through his hair.
“Someone’s gotta do it. You hardly see her.”
“I hardly see anyone,” John said, just as the waiter arrived.
They all ordered drinks, and Chyna couldn’t wait to get her hands on her martini.
“Do you want me to be like Mom and tell you that you could have gone to Harvard too if you hadn’t followed in Dad’s footsteps to bum-fuck-nowhere liberal arts college?” John teased.
Chyna blushed for her boyfriend. She knew he was smart, and he probably could have a better job than where he worked at a small, private architectural company.
Adam just shrugged, unaffected on the outside. She wondered if he was seething on the inside. She would be.
“I still could, but then I’d have to take your claim as the perfect son. I’d hate to do that to you.”
John laughed good-naturedly. “Touché. King’s to you, Fernand.”
Adam laughed even harder, but Chyna didn’t have any clue what they were talking about. Who was Fernand?
They clearly spoke their own language. She didn’t have any siblings and couldn’t comprehend a connection like that. The closest thing she had found was with Alexa. Chyna wished she was here. Alexa was the smart one, even if she was terrible with relationships. She could clue her in on what the fuck they were talking about. Chyna chewed on her lip and prayed for her martini to arrive quickly.
“Do you like movies, Chyna?” John asked just as the drinks arrived.
She sucked down a large gulp before answering. “I go to premieres sometimes.”
