by Robin Leaf
Miles rolled his eyes. “Why do I gotta be in this stupid…” he stopped himself and stood, walking to his room. “Ugh. Fine. I still don’t understand why Tater wants me to be a groomsman. Doesn’t he have his own friends?”
“You’re doing this for me, Bud,” Emily called down the hall.
She watched until she knew he was out of earshot before scrambling to sit right next to me, grabbing my arm.
Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, was the sex bad?”
I scratched the back of my neck. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “How many times did she…” she made a tossing-off gesture with her hand.
My face got hot, but I knew she would get the truth out of me eventually. I decided to tell her straight. “Seven.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You made her come seven times?”
“Oh, Emily,” sneaky Aunt Mae said from behind me. She walked around the couch and perched on Uncle Collin’s chair again. “If that’s not a normal Saturday night to you, I seriously need to have your father talk to Tater.”
My chuckle could not be helped.
Emily ignored her mother. “All I’m saying is that if your night with her included seven orgasms, she didn’t give you a fake number on purpose. She’s probably pissed you never contacted her.”
“My plan is to find her when I go back to pack.”
Emily placed her hand gently on my arm. “Have you talked to Heather yet?”
“Why would he want to talk to the whore who cheated on him?” Aunt Mae asked with disgust.
“Because she’s not a whore, Mom.” Emily rolled her eyes again. “He needs to break up with her properly and figure out what they’re going to do since she just moved into his apartment while he was staying with me.”
“She and I talked on the plane on the way here.”
“On the plane?” Emily asked incredulously.
Aunt Mae slammed her water glass on the coffee table, sloshing some of its contents. “She’s staying here?” She rushed to the kitchen, I assume to get a towel to clean up her mess.
“With you?” Emily added.
“After she cheated on you?” Aunt Mae reentered the room, and something smacked me in the back of the head. She hit me with the towel before wiping up the water.
Emily hit me on the arm. “What the hell, Brody?”
“Jesus, you two. Stop hitting me.” I turned to Emily. “Remember, I told you that Heather was coming here to visit her family for the weekend. She didn’t know it was a ruse to show her the house and propose, so she kept her plan to visit and check on her other store. After I talked to her New Year’s Eve, we were both going to the airport, and I gave her a ride so we could continue our talk. We aired out a lot of stuff.” I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. “She called me this morning before she left to go back to New Orleans. I’m gonna let her stay in the apartment for now.”
I saw Emily grind her teeth, which meant she was working up something nasty to say about Heather, so I talked before she could.
“Honestly, Emily, I can’t even really be mad at her for what happened. We weren’t meant to be; we were just a convenience relationship. I was just too busy to notice.” I sat back against the cushions of the couch. “Which is one of the reasons why she found solace in Kyle.”
Emily shuddered, a brief look of disgust crossing her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just hate the name Kyle.”
“Yeah, well, she seems to be more… um, compatible with him.”
Emily winked and threw me a finger gun to indicate she knew what I meant. When I stayed with Em, I consulted her about the issues Heather and I were having with sex.
“I’m really pissed at Kyle more than anything. What kind of guy moves in on his friend’s girlfriend?”
Emily’s jaw ticked. “It sounds exactly like something like the Kyle I knew would do.”
When I raised my eyebrow, she blurted, “This Kyle caused a bunch of trouble in high school between Etta and me. What he did to us… well, I hold him responsible for why we didn’t speak for so long.”
I shook my head confused. “I thought you said that was because of what she thought happened with Nathaniel.”
“She wouldn’t have believed that I would sleep with Nate if it hadn’t been for Kyle.” Emily ground her teeth. “It’s a really long, involved story, Brody. I really don’t want to talk about it,” she jerked her head toward her mom, “right now.”
“He was secretly dating both of them,” Aunt Mae explained casually. “He lied and tricked both into believing he was in love with them, and I suspect he took both their virginities. Then he ghosted them and went back to his girlfriend, who he had never broken up with, even though he told both of them he did.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open. “How the hell did you know all that?”
Aunt Mae picked up her glass of water. “I overheard your fights.”
“And by overheard,” Em folded her arms across her chest, “you mean you eavesdropped?”
“Well, you weren’t exactly quiet about it. And what I didn’t learn by listening, I read in Etta’s diary.”
“What the fuck, Mom?”
I stood and brushed the front of my jeans, like it would erase all the awkwardness. “Well, I should get going so I can be at home for my furniture delivery.” I attempted to shuffle past Emily, who blocked the clean exit with her legs on the coffee table.
“Wait,” Aunt Mae set down her glass and stood. “You said that it wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow. Julia will be here any minute.”
I gave up waiting for Emily to put her legs down and stepped over them. “Well, I don’t want to…”
Shit. I almost said that I don’t want to be here in the crazy house anymore. That would have gone over like a fart in church. I smiled and started walking to the door.
“I mean, it just sounds like you ladies need to talk some stuff out. You don’t need me in the way for that, so I’m just gonna go. Emily, let me know about my fitting. Aunt Mae, I love you. See ya soon.”
I hurried out the door before the crazy caught me.
Seventeen
Kaelyn
“So some random fan just contacts you,” I snapped at Mom as she fixed herself a cup of coffee in Ruby’s kitchen, “and you just decide to come do a signing, and you didn’t think to call and ask if you could stay here first?”
She turned and leaned against the counter with her mug gripped in both hands. “Yes. She said that you suggested that she contact me. And don’t worry, I booked a room at a B&B in the Quarter. It was all very impromptu, Kaelyn.”
“Mother, she PMed your author page over a week ago.”
“And I messaged her back from my personal page. I just felt so sorry for her. Her boyfriend just broke up with her, and she was sure he was having sex with another woman while we were messaging. I thought that possibly agreeing to come here would make up for the shitty thing her guy did. Plus, this is a stop on the way to your brother’s wedding. I figured we could fly from here together. We haven’t done a mother/daughter trip in a while.”
I sat back in the chair, crossing my arms across my chest, and raised my eyebrow. “Mom, did she happen to tell you why her boyfriend broke up with her?”
“Why would that matter, Kaelyn? I assumed it was because of the strumpet he was screwing.”
Great. My mother may not have realized it, but she just called me the term her Nephilim characters used to describe a slutty skank. Nice.
“No, Mom. I was there.” In the middle of all of it, but leaving out that detail seems like a good idea. “He said he walked in on her having sex with his friend. And he was going to ask her to marry him the next day with his grandmother’s ring.” That I still wear just to keep it safe. “She played you.”
She rolled her jaw back and forth, a trick she did when she was annoyed. “You know as well as I do that there is always
more to the story, Kae. Maybe they broke up before he left. Maybe he was an asshole. Maybe he neglected her. Or maybe he was just bad in bed.”
I got up from the table and rinsed my cup out in the sink so she couldn’t see my face give away anything, especially the fact that I knew firsthand he was absolutely NOT bad in bed. “I met him, Mom. I’m pretty sure none of those are true.”
Knowing my mother, she had her hand on her hip with it cocked to the side. “So you got that impression of him just from witnessing their breakup?”
“Let’s just say she didn’t deny the cheating accusation. And he seemed… nice.”
Why am I defending this asshole, the one who didn’t call me and probably went running back to his cheating ex?
Mom walked around to see my face and studied it for what felt like forever. She smacked her rental’s keys in her hand. “C’mon, Kaelyn. Ruby is meeting us for lunch. There, you can tell me what you’re hiding.” She walked toward the door. “And what you don’t tell me, Ruby will.”
Mom’s right. She will.
Fuck.
***
“Let me get this straight,” Mom said over the table of forgotten, half-eaten meals at her favorite New Orleans eatery. Ruby and I tag teamed the story, giving up the details just like Mom predicted we would. “You met this guy on the plane and felt an instant connection. Your former professor, who might be clairvoyant, told you not to let him get away, but you left without getting a number, or hell, even his name.”
“He was going to propose to his girlfriend, Mom, so there was no –”
She held up her hand to stop me, and her nostrils flared. “I am not finished.”
The waiter approached, laid down the check, and took the opportunity to collect our plates, but that didn’t slow Mom down.
“You found him in a bar drunk off his ass, sobered him up, agreed to be his fake fiancée, blurted out the truth to his girlfriend, spent the night with him, and gave him your phone number after he said he felt the connection, too, but he never called?”
I nodded.
“Whoa, harsh,” the waiter hissed through his teeth. Mom glared at him, causing him to scurry away.
She turned to Ruby. “And you saw him get in a car with his alleged ex on the way to the airport?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ruby, the traitor, agreed.
Mom grabbed my right hand. “And you’re still wearing the ring?”
“It’s not on my left hand anymore,” I added defensively. “I just don’t want to lose it. It belonged to his grandmother.”
She narrowed her eyes and rolled her tongue over her teeth. “You are coming with me to that signing tomorrow so you can find out if they got back together. Dammit, I need to know if they did, because if so, that boy will have hell to pay.” She slapped some money on the table and stood, gathering her things. “No one treats my baby like this.”
And again I say… Fuck.
***
I had no problem telling my mom no. None. I’d done it before, and she probably would have allowed me to get out of this very awkward situation… if I had tried.
But I didn’t.
Why?
Because I was hella curious.
When Mom came in and introduced herself to Heather, I was able to slip in virtually unnoticed. Only the bartender spoke to me while I watched from the end of the bar. The one thing Mom learned from her tenure with my father was how to work a room, or maybe she was just born with the knack for dealing with people. Whatever. She was charming and personable. Pride burned in my chest as I simply watched her do her thing.
I sat at The Lit Pub’s bar, out of the way, wearing my incognito outfit. I know that seemed strange, and honestly, I’m not sure why I had to wear this outfit. I am sure it had nothing to do with Brody. Sure, the clothes may have been the same ones I wore when I met him, and sure, I may have been trying to remind him, if all his drunken rambling was true, what attracted him to me when he first saw me. And maybe, just maybe, I might have wanted to rub in his face what he gave up by not calling me… I mean, if he was, in fact, here at this bar.
Unfortunately or fortunately (the jury was out as to which adverb I was going with at the time), all indications pointed in the direction of no, he was not here, which both delighted me and disheartened me. It delighted me because he didn’t go back to Heather, which meant he was single. I felt disheartened because if he didn’t go back to Heather, it meant he was single… and he just didn’t want me.
Sigh.
I pulled my cap lower and sipped my glass of ice water through my straw. Odds were I wouldn’t be recognized here, especially in my nerd gear. I couldn’t really allow myself to be noticed for the same reasons as always… the unforgiving media and all that jazz. Mom seemed to be embraced for her erotic books. But if anyone made the connection between her and me, I would be demonized, with statements like, “Well, now we know why she is…you know, the way she is.”
I hadn’t been in the media much in the last three years. However, when I tried to do something good, I did receive positive attention, but they just had to mention my past. For instance, I organized an event that raised over a million dollars for children’s cancer research, which got nationwide coverage. After mentioning the positive, charitable thing I did, almost every article and news story included my mishaps, which put a negative light on the organization we helped. Honestly, every one of those pictures included a series of misfortunate events caught on camera, but because I’d been drinking, I was labeled the drunken party girl who occasionally exposed my nipple, grabbed guys in the junk, or kissed girls. Okay, so the girl kiss was the result of a dare and not a misfortunate event, but the nip slip happened when someone tripped me on the dancefloor and my boob fleetingly popped out of my top. And the crotch grab? Some guy, who I thought was going to help me stand (after a different fall), moved his hand, and I innocently grabbed his pants. Yeah, all of the pictures made me look bad.
Those pictures follow me everywhere.
I’m pretty sure I led a virtually normal college-girl existence back then, but the media saw it differently. They made me out to be one big, slutty mess, which led to more drinking, which led to more behavior that fed their already negative opinion of me.
That’s why I quit drinking in public. In reality, I didn’t miss it, especially since it took longer to recover from a hangover the older I got.
The turnout for Mom’s signing was way bigger than I expected, which is probably why I didn’t immediately notice the guy at the other end of the bar watching me. No telling how long he’d been there, but when he stood from his stool and moved in my direction, I caught sight of his face. My stomach dropped.
“Hey, Kitten,” his silky voice purred, making my skin crawl. “It’s been awhile.”
I picked up my glass and seriously contemplated throwing it in his face. Instead, I took a long sip, slurping the remnants at the bottom. It’s intent was to calm my nerves, but it didn’t do much good.
“I didn’t take you for a book lover, Kyle.” I set my glass down on the bar. “Now, why would you be here?”
The pink-haired bartender swapped out my empty glass for a full one and raised her eyebrow at me. I think it was supposed to be a warning about this guy, one I really didn’t need.
My mother taught me something I really believed with all my heart and soul. People wandered in and out of our lives, and each person could be seen as either a gift or a lesson. Sadly, it’s usually not until after they wandered out of my life that I knew the difference.
Kyle McGuinness was definitely a lesson disguised as a gift, one wrapped in a glittery package complete with a shiny bow. He was that mixture of pretty and rugged with his blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled features, and sculpted body. He even had a mischievous dimple. By using all the right words to make a girl feel like she was the best thing ever created, he could even charm the panties off the toughest of nuns. Meanwhile, he had his hand in the collection basket, and the nun would swear he was inno
cent.
Those sharks in the water with the other fish in the sea? Kyle McGuinness was the equivalent of the monster great white from Jaws. Wait, no… that’s inaccurate. He was more like a stingray, swimming along gracefully, seemingly harmless and gentle, until… BAM! He shoved his less-than-average sized stinger in a girl’s heart. Yeah, that’s what he’s like.
Why did I think that? Because he was the photographer of some of the pictures that made it to the media.
While he dated me (and by “dated,” I mean he manipulated me into taking him to parties and exclusive clubs so he could schmooze big-wig financial types. Then he would reward me with pretty words and mediocre sex, and since I was mainly inexperienced, I didn’t know any better), he set up these scenarios in which I would be found in compromising positions, captured them for posterity, and sold them for profit to some smarmy guy at one of those tabloid TV shows. The smarmy guy would post it on social media, and I became a social-media viral sensation before it was cool.
Since my father was a ruthless businessman, he tried to instill in me the notion that trust is not something to be given freely, but some lessons needed to be learned the hard way, especially by a naïve college girl looking for someone to make her feel special. And Kyle fed my need pretty well, just not sincerely.
Ruby was always suspicious of Kyle, but I blew her off, accusing her of being jealous because I had someone. I was charmed like the tough nun. Once she showed me proof of his misdeeds, my world shattered. It was the defining moment of my life, the point when everything changed.
If I thought about it really hard, I could probably convince myself that I should thank him. Because of him, I stopped drinking and partying, became a straight-A college student, started my own companies… I guess you could say, in some fucked-up, twisted way, Kyle McGuinness was responsible for my success, but since there’s no way to tell if that was really true, I stuck to hating him.
