“Okay, slow this down a little because your crazy is hard to follow when you’re foaming at the mouth. You’re saying this hot guy, the first one to make your wanger tingle, is into you too?”
“Yes, Indiana. He’s into me. What’s so freaking hard to understand about that? What, am I a dog?” I screech, picking up my binder to start slamming it into the edge of the table.
These spells usually end with me crying and trying to take a swing at whoever comes near me before I feel calm enough to breathe, but right now I’m so raw about the injustice of it all I want to rip something apart.
“Dotty, honey…” Percy starts, approaching me slowly, hand outstretched the way you’d approach a rabid animal.
“No! I am so fucking sick and tired of feeling this way.”
“Dot, you’re swearing a lot.”
“So? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. There! You gonna call the fucking language police, Percival?”
“Erm.”
“They ignored me all my life, never once cared about what I was doing, what I liked, what I wanted, and now all of a fucking sudden they want me to be there for her and nurse her through her illness, and now they’re concerned and trying to situate me in life as if I need a freaking man to look after me.”
My head is pounding and I feel like my veins are bulging as my eyes start popping.
They both land on me and wrestle me down to the floor before I can start swinging, and it’s only when I feel ice-cold water land on my face and I start spluttering that the anger fades and leaves me limp and ragged.
“Why did I have to meet him now?” I whimper, hating the fact that Percy’s eyes seem to mist before she pulls my sodden self into her arms and squeezes me tight.
“Because life’s a three-dollar whore who only cooperates when you pay the bitch. Hush now, Dotty, we got you. Just breathe for me and we’ll get through this.”
I obey and take deep breaths through my nose, blowing them out with a trembling hiccup, just letting the peace and silence around us settle in before nodding at them and letting Indie pull me to my feet.
“Jesus on a cracker, little girl, that was a doozy. You’re under way too much stress right now it if only takes a few gibes from us to get you this riled up. You need to get away.”
“How? I have my phone blowing up at all hours and I still haven’t sorted out this mess. Plus, I don’t have much money left after…”
After I gave my mother and father some of the savings I’ve been squirreling away for the last few months since business picked up. Just about all I can afford lately is rent and groceries, but I don’t want anyone knowing that because it would just solidify the fact that I’m a total asshole who lets my family take me for a ride.
“Well fuck. Have I mentioned lately how much I hate your parents, Dot? And no, I’m not talking an ‘I’ll punch you in the face’ hate but rather I want to peel them like grapefruit, I hate them so much.” Percy snarls, making me blush and look away.
“I know. Sometimes I feel the same.”
“Then cut them loose, babe.”
“I can’t, guys. No. Don’t start in on me right now, please. I’ve had all I can take for one day. Just let me think and work these things out in my head and I’ll come up with something. I just need time.”
I suddenly get the strange thought in my head that time has been running out on me ever since I took my first breath.
Chapter Three
Do What You Have To
Paul
The view from the seventy-second floor where my office is situated in the building that’s been in my family for generations has always calmed and soothed me.
Except for today. As I look down and see the traffic cruise by like little dots of color and listen to Alex with half an ear, all I can do is clench my teeth and fists and try to ignore the anger building inside me.
“And now she’s running around trying to ignore us all while her poor mama is sick and her father’s trying to keep everything together. She’s selfish, man. Honestly I don’t know how I’m gonna handle having a selfish wife, especially when the only thing she’s really got going for her is that meek personality her father’s been telling me about for months.”
The little shit is so far off base it’s not even funny. Dot has got to be one of the sweetest, least selfish people I know. She’s always doing free benefits in the bad neighborhoods, and getting people to donate food so that her and that motley band of crazy women she calls friends can feed the less fortunate.
I’ve even delved into her financials, and from what I’ve seen I suspect she’s even been slipping her parents some money too. Not that those assholes need it, so why take from her in the first place?
And then there’s the stuff that she does in her free time. Just last month she knitted till her fingers bled to help the church with some charity drive they were hosting.
And what about the way she’s been working herself to the bone trying to keep up her end of the catering business that her and her friends run while also spending some afternoons and mornings with her mom, nursing her, reading to her, and running errands that I know others could be doing.
Dot doesn’t have a selfish, mean bone in her little body. Having this little ingrate say it makes me so angry I’ve had to resist knocking a tooth or six out of his smug little mouth.
As Alex’s cousin and his boss I have to keep that urge in check, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make him bleed for even thinking he could touch that pure little imp of a woman.
As if marrying her is a sacrifice!
What I wouldn’t give to have it in me to love another woman. Because she’d be perfect, I just know it. She’d love my mom and grandma and fit right into their little circle.
She’d be a loyal, good wife, and a fantastic mom who would shower her children with warmth and love.
And all that passion I see sparking behind her blue eyes…
Hell, just thinking about the down and dirty things I could do to little Dot makes my dick so hard it pounds behind my zipper.
“Don’t you have work to be doing? The Lynchcorp deal is just about sinking what with old man Lynch getting another investor.”
Not that I care. This deal has been Alex’s brainchild from the beginning, and though I saw the cons to it right from the start I let him at it, hoping that he’d fuck it up so much the board would be forced to step in.
Can’t fire the little punk and still keep Aunt Mave in my good books, but maybe if the board comes to the table and does all the dirty work I can finally be rid of the ass.
“Dude, that shit’s in the bag.” He laughs, waving it off like it’s nothing when we both know that’s far from true.
He’s sweating, I can see that as I turn around and take him in silently. And his smile is tense as he leans back and pretends a nonchalance that’s going to work to my advantage.
“Fine. But I still have work to do.”
“Come on, Paulie! I need help here, man. Old man Harper is on my ass to get Dorothea in line and Dad’s been riding me too. Dorothea likes you, I’ve seen how she doesn’t run from you. Give me a hand here and just talk to her. Talk me up a little, ya know? I need an in with that ice-cold woman.”
Which is one of the things I have yet to understand. As far as I can see, the Harpers don’t have a thing that Alex and his dad could want. They’re upper middle class, sure, not struggling for money but in no way wealthy. They have a paid-off mortgage and a few investment bonds here and there, nothing major.
So why go after Dot? What could they possibly want from this marriage? I know this little asshole; he’s about as ready for commitment as I am.
The only difference is that I fully admit to my lack of balls in that arena, while he just thinks it’s a fucking joke.
“I’ll help you with her. I’ll go talk to her about this…stuff if you tell me what the hell is going on. Don’t try and spin me some family obligation shit. We both know you’d rather get kicked in the gro
in than get tied down right now. So tell me, what is it that you and those old fucks have cooking?”
My agenda is twofold. I need to know what they’re up to and I also want to get to her again without having to explain myself to anyone. Somehow I don’t think me just showing up and taking her out would be smiled upon. She also never fucking came back to me and that’s sticking in my craw.
It’s the first time I’ve ever come on to a woman and not had her melting for me.
Interesting.
“Nothing, man, I swear. You know the whole story. The great-grandparents made a deal yonks ago. Great-Grampa Summers floated the Harpers when their business was going under and all they wanted was for two of the leading families from England to join ranks. Call it a mixing of the bloodlines or some shit. Whatever. All I know is Dad made it clear this is my duty, and as far as the Harpers are concerned she’s already in the bag.”
Not if I’ve got anything to say about it, I think, watching him squirm beneath my unblinking stare.
“You expect me to believe that shit?”
“What? Yeah! It’s true.”
My ass.
My dad is the bastard son of Elisha Summers, the great dead patriarch of our illustrious clan.
When Grandpops found out he’d knocked up the little waitress he’d banged while on business, he did what he had to do and paid Grandma off to keep away from his family.
Grammy is the least mercenary soul I ever met, but the woman was no fool. She knew she couldn’t provide a decent life for her child, so she took all that money and settled in a small town just outside New York, as far away from the Summers clan as she could get.
By the time my pop was fifteen he was well aware of his parentage, and let’s just say the man did not appreciate it when his father turned up spouting some shit about legal heirs and the like.
Instead he told him to kiss his ass and went on with life, going so far as to join the military and then a few years later meeting my mom, the love of his life.
My old man was a great guy, but he was never one for backup plans. When he died in battle, leaving mom alone and knocked up, barely making ends meet…
Let’s just say that when the Summers family arrived on the scene she had two choices: fight a court battle or buckle down and move in with the asses so her kid could have a good life.
Mom moved us in, along with Grandma Pen, and that’s how the son of a bastard became the heir to the Summers throne.
Of course I always knew what was cooking beneath the polished surface of this life. If I’m honest, I’ve always hated this shit. And my family.
Sure the money and all the perks that come along with it are great, but I’m not a suit and I never will be. I spent summers with Grammy’s brother, my uncle Jim, working his ranch down in Wyoming and learning all there is to know about that life.
I love the peace and the hard work and the freedom that comes with being a steward of the land. It’s been my dream since I was old enough to shovel cow shit and mend fences and I will have it.
I just have to complete the plans I’ve set into motion since I got out of college and took over the business. You say revenge is best served cold?
This shit will be un-thawable by the time I serve it up on that silver platter to these fools.
I spent my childhood with my grandfather pushing me to within my limits while his wife sneered at me and never let me forget that I’m nothing but an interloper.
I could deal with that shit just fine, but what I could never deal with was when they discovered I had every intention of taking off and going down to Texas when I was free of the contract Mom had signed when I was born.
According to them I was theirs till the age of twenty-two, by which time the old man thought I’d be one of them and ready to take over his legacy.
They convinced me to stick around by buying up the mortgage on Jim’s ranch and threatening to sell it off.
I was trapped and ready to kill but I did it because in the end family is family. Hell, I went a little wild after that and partied as hard as a twenty-two-year old could and ended up with a girl I thought I loved more than anything else.
Sarah was beautiful, smart, one of the daughters of a family friend, and everything I thought I wanted. I fell hard and fast and started making plans for the future.
When she confessed to not wanting to move out to the boonies and smell cow shit all day I got over my need for the life I really wanted and instead actually tried to make the one I had work.
When she started talking about marriage, I bought her the biggest ring I could find and popped the question.
I was young, in love and so naïve that I get mad just thinking about it now.
No one ever knew why I dropped her so hard and fast, and if I was anything at all like the man I was before meeting her, I would have made a scene and beat the shit out of Alex and humiliated Sarah publicly.
But I now am the product of years of knowing, and I’ve learned that good things come to those who wait. So instead of losing my shit when I came home early to find my cousin banging my fiancée, I quietly closed the door and started planning.
In the ten years since I’ve bought my own land, I’ve started slowly but surely dismantling the business.
It’s a slow process selling it off while keeping the family in the dark, but I’ve got the patience to do it and I’m almost there.
All I need to do now, before the shoe drops, is make Alex wish he was never born. Simple. Satisfying…
Not easy.
Because the ass doesn’t care about a damn thing as far as I can tell.
Till now. Till Dot and whatever scheme the old men have going.
“I’ll talk to her but don’t blame me if she doesn’t go for it. Dorothea doesn’t strike me as a pushover, no matter what that father of hers says,” I warn.
“Thanks, man. You don’t know what you’ll be doing for me.”
“My pleasure,” I say, smiling for the first time since he invaded my space.
Chapter Four
Dirty Dancing
Dot
The smell of exhaust fumes and sweat lies heavy in the air as I hustle my way towards the church, trying to avoid the foot traffic and the grumbles floating around me.
It’s been another day of hopeless arguing on my part as Mother cried and Father glared at me. After that treat I still had to go to work and make four hundred mini quiches and a boatload of gateau slices for Indie and Percy to take to tonight’s dinner party, another of Althea’s and one of the reasons that I actually made my share of the rent this month without dipping into my steadily dwindling savings again.
Tonight’s my night off, but I just couldn’t face the thought of an empty apartment so here I am, clutching two trays of the “flopped” quiches that are still good but a little skew and overdone since I was so lost in thought I almost burnt two batches.
Not that the people at the church will complain. They’ll just thank me and act as if this is the biggest thing in the world. Boy, I sure wish my own parents could be this way, seeing as I’ve gone out of my way to cook dinner for them almost every night on top of everything else I’ve been juggling.
At times like these I wish I lived somewhere completely different, and that I didn’t have to schedule my entire life down to the minute.
It would be nice to wake up after the sun rises and do something that makes me happy. Not that the business doesn’t make me happy, because I love cooking. I just wish I could cook for people who appreciate it instead of snooty rich people who think food is art.
Food is food. To be enjoyed and bring people together. It shouldn’t be a freaking test the entire time. What I wouldn’t give to cook good home-cooked food, like buttery biscuits and simple roasts.
Most of all I always thought that by the time I hit thirty I’d have a family to cook for and love, people who’d eat my meals and be grateful for the little things I did for them, like knit sweaters and use my special blend of aromatherapy
fabric softeners on their clothes.
When I think that I have to marry Alex Summers and attend those snooty rich parties for the rest of my life while my children go off to some boarding school, I get a case of the hives and feel a meltdown coming on.
“Oh there you are, girlie. Took you long enough. I’ve had to talk to these old fools almost twenty minutes waiting on your ass.”
My eyes roll at Gruffy’s greeting when I hustle into the church basement and drop the trays on a table before going over to kiss her hello.
“Sorry, Gruff, I had to stop by my parents’ house and make sure the food was ready before I could get here, and then the freaking cabs weren’t stopping and I practically had to walk the whole way.”
“Nonsense! Why are you over in that hellhole anyway? I heard what Percy was saying when they came over for Thursday dinner and I don’t like it one bit, girlie. Those leaches aren’t going to give you the time of day when you tell them you won’t marry that boy. You’re setting yourself up for hurt there,” she barks, waving her cane at me threateningly.
“Gruff.”
“What’s the big need to have a happy family all of a sudden anyway? Me and the girls not enough for you?” she asks and I cringe when the hurt in her eyes shines through.
How to a tell her that I love them enough to let my family go but not quite enough all at the same time? The Naughty Ones and Gruffy have been my family for years when I had no one and nothing. Most of the time if I wanted a decent meal or company it was the girls and Gruffy who were there for me.
“Gruffy, it’s not about that. You know I love you and the girls so much I’d kill for any one of you,” I say softly, sitting down beside her as the other ladies mill about gossiping and drinking tea while scarfing my offerings.
“Then what? Talk to me, girlie. You’ve been a ghost, floating around the last few months, and anytime someone so much as questions you, you go off the deep end. That ain’t you, Dotty. You’ve always been happy and bubbly and while I know that your neurotic personality can lead to some mighty unpleasant spells, I also know that it’s just because you care so much. I haven’t seen that in you before and it’s not right. When’s the last time you came over for family dinner or even called one of Callie’s dads to find out if they’re okay?”
THE NAUGHTY ONES: The Complete 5-Books Series Page 25
