Pretty Little Mess

by Rhodes, Carmel

  I purse my lips at his blatant refusal to open up, but considering the events of the day, I decide to give him some time to process. Pressing my lips to his temple, I say, “Some asshole ripped my clothes off so I had to improvise.”

  He slides his hand up my shirt and palms my breast. “You should be wearing a seatbelt.”

  “I like to live on the edge, Wakanda Forever.” I giggle again then cross my arms over my chest.

  He arches his brow at me. “Huh?”

  I gasp. “You’ve never seen Black Panther?”

  “I don’t watch movies.” He shrugs.

  SHRUGS! Like it isn’t a huge deal that he hasn’t seen one of the best movies ever made—well, aside from Mean Girls. Oh, and The Breakfast Club. And Pretty Woman. Regardless. “Black Panther isn’t just a movie. It’s a movement. I designed an entire collection based on it.”

  “I saw the first Captain America,” he offers as if that’s some sort of consolation.

  “CAPTAIN AMERICA!?! What kind of white patriarchal bullshit is that?” I’m pretty sure my eyes look like I mainlined an 8 ball of coke, but it’s dark enough that he can’t see my crazy. Even if he can, he already loves me.

  The driver chuckles as the highway fades into city limits.

  “I went to that movie with Jalen, so ha ha.”

  “Did you just, my best friend is black me?” Uncontrollable laughter erupts from the front seat, all pretense of professionalism goes out the window. At least I made someone laugh.

  “You are an asshole.” Max chuckles softly, pulling me into his chest. Success! The tension eases, at least for a while, and I smile to myself knowing I did that. Then my smile fades because I also know he was wrong on the plane. He wasn’t going to take my heart, he already had it.

  “I love you, too,” I whisper. His grip on me tightens and we ride the rest of the way to the hotel in each other’s arms.

  I stare at the screen, waiting as Jalen’s face comes into focus. He yawns. “What are you doing awake so damn early? Isn’t the fun part of being unemployed sleeping in?” The screen shakes, as he stands. I glance at the clock in the corner of my screen. It’s nine a.m. in Chicago which makes it ten in New York.

  “I’m unemployed. Last I checked, you still had a job.”

  “If you think I stayed there longer than the time it took for me to download our client lists, then you’re sorely mistaken. Can you believe that bitch tried to get me to sign a non-compete?” Jalen snorts, his kitchen appears in the background. “Fuck that smells good.”

  “My secret recipe. Chicken and waffles,” a familiar voice says from off camera.

  “Is that my sister?” I look to the bed, and Ellie stares at me. She stands and wraps the sheet around her breast before coming to sit on my lap. I pout missing the unobstructed view of her nipples, so I settle for planting small kisses from the base of her neck down to where the sheet begins.

  Erin’s face appears. “Umm, yeah. Next time you two cause a Monica Lewinsky-sized scandal, make sure to clue in the girl who has your face. I was minding my own damn business at the bodega near our apartment when I got swarmed by paparazzi. Luckily, this asshole has a hero complex and top-of-the-line kitchen appliances.”

  Ellie purses her lips at her sister. “Sorry, everything just sort of happened so fast.”

  “Yeah, well, silver lining, Jalen’s guest room is the size of our apartment, and I took a forty-five-minute shower and the water stayed hot the entire time!”

  I blink at Ellie. “Poverty is awful.”

  She rolls her eyes at me, and she and Erin continue. “Have you talked to Dad?”

  “I’ve been ignoring him.” Ignoring is an understatement. He’s called her no less than ten times since we woke up this morning and all she had the balls to do was send him a text, telling him not to worry. The picture of her tearing up outside my office was enough to make me want to kick my own ass, and I have it on good authority that just minutes prior, she came like a fucking freight train. Which is an analogy I don’t really get because technically she came like a rainstorm, you know because all the squirting, but I guess that doesn’t really make sense.

  “You okay over there, Max?” Jalen laughs from his spot behind Erin. They look awfully cozy, and my gut tells me it’s more than trying to ensure they’re both in the frame.

  “Yeah, just thinking about sex analogies.”

  “What kind of freaky shit are y’all doing in Chi-Town?” Jalen belly laughs.

  “Can we focus, please. Daddy, have you talked to him?”

  Erin’s eyes widen, and she turns to pour a thick batter over a waffle iron. Once she’s done she turns back to the screen. “Yes, and he is pissed. I mean BIG mad. He wants to cash in the miles he was saving for our birthday trip to fly to New York.”

  “What?!” Ellie wiggles in my lap, brushing against my cock. I bite down on her shoulder to stifle a groan. I just fucked her, literally before I FaceTimed Jalen, but I’m ready to go again. I’m not sure, but I think it’s because I love her. Sex is better when you’re in love. I can’t describe it, it just is. Years of no-strings-attached sex and I finally understand the lure of monogamy. God, I’m pussy-whipped.

  “He thinks the big bad wolf got to his baby girl. After everything that happened last year with me and Bisset do you really think he’d stand by and watch from the West Coast?” Erin’s eyes flit back down to the waffle iron and she continues. “Max, I hope you’re fast because Daddy was a Marine and while I don’t think Southwest will let him fly with his gun, he’s resourceful, and he never misses a target.”

  “Shut up. He’s not going to kill Max,” Ellie says, even though her eyes are weary.

  “I didn’t say kill.” Erin points a batter-coated spoon at the camera. “I said shoot.”

  I laugh but Ellie doesn’t, which makes me nervous. “Okay, so you will have a couple days to convince Daddy not to put holes in my boyfriend. Meanwhile, we need to think of a plan for rent. I mean my last check should cover next month, then I guess it’s back to the drawing board.”

  I tighten my arms around Ellie’s midsection. I know she doesn’t like me throwing money at her problems, but I’m not going to let her be evicted, I’d buy the damn building before I’d ever let that happen. “Don’t worry about your rent,” I murmur against her shoulder.

  “Max—” Ellie warns but Erin cuts her off.

  “Shut up, Ellie. I know you’re weird about money and maybe under different circumstances, I would be too, but let the man pay a bill. I mean he’s there enough.”

  Ellie flips her sister off. “I hate you.”

  “And I’d hate sleeping in Prospect Park, so get off your high horse.”

  “She’s right, babe,” I say, but I try not to rub it in too much because she’s naked, and I’d like for her to stay that way.

  “She knows I’m right, that’s why she’s pissed.” Erin grins. “Now, we are going to eat this sexy-as-fuck breakfast I cooked then watch college ball, and hopefully I can leave this apartment without people thinking I’m you.”

  “Fine. Goodbye.” Ellie looks at me and frowns. I nod, then end the call. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  I brace myself for a fight. Shifting, I turn her in my arms so that she’s straddling me. The sheet slides down around her waist, granting me an unobstructed view of her breasts. I drop a kiss on each peak. “Why are you so against me paying your rent?”

  Ellie rests her forehead on mine. “Not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Erin and Jalen.”

  “Ohhhhh,” I drawl. I have two options here. I can be honest and tell her that I think, without a doubt, Jalen will be buried inside her sister’s cunt by nightfall. Or I can lie and make her feel good. My left brow itches as I mull over my decision a beat longer. “Baby, you know Jalen is probably gonna fuck her, right?” I’m a terrible liar.

  “That’s the problem,” she grunts, pushing my shoulder.

  “Why? He’s harmles
s.” I mean, Jalen, despite his six-foot-three frame and dimples that I’ve seen women physically trip over, is a giant teddy bear. I’m the asshole between the two of us, and while Jay isn’t a saint, he’s not a sinner either.

  Ellie’s gaze drops to our laps. “He’s going to fall in love with her,” she whispers.

  I push back the loose tendrils of hair that frame her face. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

  “Have you ever had Erin’s chicken and waffles?” she asks, peeking up at me. I shake my head. “Then you don’t know what you’re talking about.” I may not have eaten the chicken, but I have tasted Ellie’s pussy. If Erin’s is even a quarter as good, then Jalen’s fucked.

  “I’m never leaving,” Ellie sighs as the door slams shut behind her. Her caramel-colored skin glows under the soft white lights. She pads across the plush carpet, a smile on her face so wide it almost makes me forget about the hour-long video conference with my legal team that left me feeling just as helpless as I’d felt yesterday. Apparently, my dad is free to sell his shares to whomever he wants, and his agreement with Karen isn’t only legal but binding as well.

  I close my laptop and stand, making my way over to her as she kicks off her shoes. “Why do you say that?”

  “Do you see my skin? I look like a newborn. The spa is incredible. Everyone kept calling me Ms. Chase. How can I help you, Ms. Chase? Another cup of tea, Ms. Chase?” she mimics in the worst British accent I’ve ever heard.

  “I’m pretty sure we’re in the Midwest, not London.”

  Ellie slaps my chest playfully then throws her arms around my neck. “Thanks for the geography lesson. I’m happy to see all those fancy prep schools paid off.”

  “Sure did, now if only I had a job.”

  “I do.” She grins, rising up on her tiptoes, pressing a light kiss onto my mouth. “I can be your sugar mama.”

  I snort. “I don’t need the money. I want the respect. The power. I want to be able to leave a legacy behind. When I’m dead and rotting in the ground, I want to have changed the world in some way, like my grandfather did, but I can’t do that living off the millions he left me.”

  “I’m sorry, did you say m…m…millions?” she sputters.

  I lower my head until my mouth hovers inches above hers. “Sugar. Daddy,” I say emphasizing each word with a kiss. She giggles, just as a loud knock knock knock causes Rosie to bark at the door. Ellie jumps into my arms as the dog trots past us to greet our visitors. “How are you still afraid of my little tiny Yorkie?” I ask incredulously.

  Hopping down, she tells me, “I’ve been petrified of dogs my entire life, it’s like my natural reaction to barking.” Ellie moves deeper into the suite, peeling off her sweatshirt and tosses it onto the table.

  I roll my eyes, making my way to the door. Mom and Graham are on the other side. His arm is slung casually over her shoulder, hers are wrapped around his waist. My entire life, I’d only ever seen my mother with my father. Even though he’s a cheating bastard, it’s unsettling to see her so comfortable with another man.

  I smile tightly at Graham and pull my mother into a hug, tucking her into my side. I don’t hate Graham as much anymore, but that doesn’t mean I want him fucking my mom. “So, this is a thing that’s happening?” I ask, motioning between the two of them.

  “Max.” Mom laughs. It sounds featherlight and makes the knot in my chest loosen just a little. I can’t remember the last time I’d heard her laugh. “You do realize I am a grown woman.”

  “Yeah, with shitty taste in men,” I grumble.

  The room goes quiet at the mention of my father. Then Ellie, of all people, breaks the silence. She comes bouncing on over, all five feet two inches of her and links arms with my mom. “Girl, same. It’s like the worse the man, the more I’m attracted to him.”

  “I’m a catch,” I grunt, only partially offended. I mean, I did call her Piss Girl for a month, and I rubbed my dick on her the first time we met, but other than that, I’m Shakespearean as fuck.

  We make our way to the plush white couches. Mom and Ellie sit on one, Graham on the other, and I make a beeline for the mini bar.

  “I’m sorry about everything that’s happening to you right now,” Mom says sincerely. “Anyone who has ever spent five minutes with the two of you would see how in love you are. I noticed it that day I came to take the boys to dinner.”

  My attention shifts from the gin and tonic I’m making to my mother. “We barely even liked each other then.”

  It’s Ellie’s turn to grunt. “If I recall correctly, you came to the bar that night and—” Her mouth snaps shut, and she looks to my mother, then Graham, and says, “We had a very deep conversation.”

  “Right, deep.” I laugh, remembering how deep my dick was inside her cunt.

  “Anyway, how are you…you know…with everything?” Ellie whispers, embarrassment tinting her cheeks.

  “It’s a one-day-at-a-time thing. You know, some days I can’t get out of bed, then other days…” Mom’s eyes flash to Graham’s and soften. “Other days, I’m grateful to have good friends.”

  “The best friends,” Graham affirms.

  “Okay, enough about how you two are boning,” I snap. “We get it.”

  “It didn’t just happen, sweetheart.” Mom sighs.

  “Yeah, apparently it happened thirteen years ago.” I’m being an entitled douche and my mother doesn’t deserve it, but thinking back to that day when I’d found my dad with Karen, the day that set all of this bullshit in motion, makes it hard to reconcile the past I thought I knew, to what really happened. I’d been so devastated that I ran to Graham. He told me he’d take care of it, but he took care of himself instead.

  “I’ve known Graham longer than I’ve known your dad,” she says, ignoring my tantrum. “I honestly thought we’d end up together, but he was always so focused. Nothing but friendship ever came out of it. We grew up together, went to school together, he’s the one who introduced me to Preston. I was tired of being in the friend zone, and P came along with his money and charisma and swept me off my feet. I didn’t think Graham felt the same way about me until the night before our wedding. He asked me not to marry your father. I told him I was in love. And that I’d waited for him since I was a little girl and that it wasn’t fair for him to do that to me.”

  I look to Graham and his face contorts in pain. “I was too busy trying to turn myself into the man I thought she deserved. I didn’t realize I’d lost her until it was too late.”

  “Anyway, I married your dad, Graham met Winston’s mom shortly after, and we never spoke of that night again.”

  “Until the day your father cheated,” Graham adds.

  “I was angry and heartbroken, not only because my husband cheated, but that you had to bear witness. Graham was there, comforting me, and all those years of loving the boy next door came flooding back. Jean and Graham had been divorced for about a year, and all I could think was I made a mistake, and this was God punishing us for picking the wrong people. And so we had sex, and I felt a spark I’d never felt with your father. Don’t get me wrong, I was in love with P. But that love wasn’t ever meant to be eternal. I just didn’t realize it until after I finally gave in to Graham.”

  “Then why didn’t you just divorce Dad?”

  “I thought about it. I thought about it every day for a month, but if I got a divorce then what? Your dad and Graham were best friends and business partners. It isn’t like I could just jump from one bed to the next. Plus, I really did love P. He seemed sorry and I meant my vows. I know that’s old fashioned, but I wanted forever. I would have been fine with never exploring the possibility of a life with Graham had your dad been a faithful husband. Had I not gotten sick”—she shrugs—“who knows?”

  “I mean, I’m happy for you. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. You’ve got a lot on your plate with Dad and your illness. I just want to make sure you are your main priority.”

  Graham step
s up, his hand clamps on my shoulder, and he looks me in the eye. “I got her.” The conviction in his voice is enough to convince an atheist of God’s existence. “I’m never letting her go again. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  Mom comes up behind us and wraps her arms around Graham. “I’m in good hands.”

  “I see that. I still don’t like it, but you seem happy.”

  Ellie comes up and I tuck her under my arm. “You seem happy too,” Mom says.

  “If I could take back my company from the red witch, I would be.”

  A look passes through Mom’s eyes, but it’s gone before I can register its meaning. She brings her finger to her lips and taps. “I’m forgetting something.”

  “It’s okay, it will come to you,” Graham coos.

  “No, this is important. I just can’t remember what it is.”

  “Tasha?” Graham offers.

  “No, bigger, but, oh, Max!” Mom squeals, the confusion replaced by excitement. “We came up with a plan to restore your good name.”

  “My name means nothing if Anderson Capital is in the hands of the Wicked Witch.”

  “Why would you want to resuscitate a sinking ship? You and Jalen are young and resourceful and damn good at what you do,” Graham adds. “Why not build your own?”

  “Did you see the pictures in the press? No one will touch me right now,” I huff.

  Mom’s grin widens. “We can fix that.”

  I roll my eyes. “It’s like you said before, it’s going to take more than a few staged photos to change public opinion.”

  “What about a sit down with Tasha King?” Graham lifts a smug brow. Tasha King is the single most powerful woman in media. She started on the talk show circuit in the ’80s and has grown her empire to include a production company, magazine, and there’s even talk of her launching her own network next fall. To many, her opinion is the only one that matters.

  Ellie gasps so loud it makes Rosie come trotting back in to see what’s wrong. “Tasha King?”

  “Yeah,” Mom says picking up Rosie. “Jasmine is good friends with her. She reached out, and Tasha agreed to the interview. It will be a fair one, unlike the Cooper Jones witch hunt, but she isn’t going to coddle you. She’s going to ask the tough questions, but like I said, anyone who spends five minutes with you two can see that what you have is genuine.”