If I Were Beautiful (If I Were... #1)

by Devon Hartford

  The magician chuckled. “Okay. Then I’ll come to you.” He walked up beside me and held out the pack of cards.

  I didn’t even look.

  He nudged it against my arm. “Chelsea? Can you open the pack of cards?”

  “Shuh-sure.” I was still watching Wes.

  He was still watching me.

  “Can you turn and face me?” The magician asked.

  “Yeah, whatever.” I turned my body but kept my eyes pinned on Wes.

  “Can you please unwrap the cards?”

  Without looking at what I was doing, I shoved the wadded up slip of paper into my purse and dug my fingernails into the plastic shrink wrap and peeled it off. I looked away from Wes for a split second. When I turned back, Wes was gone.

  Oh no!

  Oh, wait. It was just an illusion. So many people were walking between me and Wes, it made it seem like he’d gone. But he was still there. My heart rate slowed down to a mere 180 BPM. Yes, I was that nervous. I desperately needed to talk to Wes one last time before he disappeared forever. I wasn’t sure why, but it was important. Closure, maybe. I didn’t know.

  “Do you have the pack open?” The magician asked.

  I absently stuffed the balled up shrink wrap into my purse with the slip of paper. “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Okay, now I want you to look through the deck and find your card.”

  “Huh?” All I could think at that moment was, Wes Wes Wes.

  (love love love)

  “Please turn around so you’re not facing me and look through the deck until you find your card, but don’t tell me when you find it.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was busy myself searching through a deck of cards. Wes could get away! Besides, I couldn’t even remember which card I wrote down. I was over this stupid card trick. “Sorry. I have to go.” I handed him the deck and pushed through the crowd without looking back.

  “Wait! I was gonna give you half my top hat money! But I need that paper you wrote on to finish the trick! Chelsea! Come back!”

  I jogged through the throng of people walking back and forth between me and Wes. But I couldn’t see him anywhere! I’d been distracted by that stupid magician and his stupid card trick! That jerk had been so busy misdirecting me, he’d just made Wes disappear!

  Asshat!

  I ran to where Wes had been standing and spun in circles, trying to pick him out of hundreds of people. Panic set in, every cell in my body tingling in disbelief.

  He’d been right here!

  Right where I was standing!

  I balled my fists in frustration, my nails digging into my palms. “No, no, no!” Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of white. I twisted around but it was just a woman in a white blouse.

  “Shit!”

  I spun again and another flash of white disappeared around a building. I ran after it, convinced it was Wes. When I turned the corner, all I saw was more people. But it had to have been Wes! Still running, I pushed my way through the crowd on the sidewalk, bumping people aside. Some yelled at me, others cursed.

  “Sorry! I’m really sorry!”

  I had to find Wes!

  When I reached the next block, I slowed to a stop and swiveled my head from side to side.

  Where was he?!

  There! Going into one of the parking garages on Second Street. I chased after. Just as I turned into the garage, an elevator door started to close. Someone was inside!

  Wes!

  “Wait!” I ran up and pounded the UP button repeatedly.

  But it was too late.

  The doors had closed and Wes was gone.

  Again.

  I heaved a sigh.

  Damn it!

  I just missed him!

  “Are you stalking me, Sunflower?”

  I spun around to face the owner of that familiar and imposing baritone.

  Chapter 16

  Wes leaned casually against a rectangular cement column, watching me.

  He stood with his hands in pockets, looking cover model handsome. His fitted linen shirt revealed a body even more delicious than I’d imagined. Broad shoulders, wide hard pecs pulling against the slightly transparent white material. His abs were hidden but his stomach was obviously washboard flat. The rolled-up cuffs revealed smooth tan forearms with a criss-cross of veins playing over chiseled muscles. A chunky gold bracelet hung from one wrist. His tight slacks told me the bracelet wasn’t the only thing about him that hung well. Rippled folds slightly tented a sizable package.

  I folded my arms across my chest and shifted my weight to one hip. “Stalking? What makes you think I’m stalking anybody?”

  “I heard your flats slapping the sidewalk. Sounded like running to me.”

  “Maybe I’m late for an appointment.”

  He smirked, “Then why are you still standing here talking to me?”

  “Because I’m trying to figure out why you are stalking me.”

  “Ha! Following me around one corner is a coincidence. Following me around three is stalking. You’re stalking me, Sunflower.”

  “Me?!” I huffed. “You were the one staring at me during the magic show!”

  “Oh, that’s right,” he nodded thoughtfully but his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Me and a hundred other people were watching you and a street magician doing a card trick. Very creepy. All those pervs dying to find out what card you picked. Scandalous. We should all be locked up. And I feel terrible for that magician. He probably hates having people stare at him as much as you do.”

  “I don’t like having people stare at me,” I grumbled.

  “So, what, you followed me so you could give me a beating for looking at you? Teach me a lesson I’ll never forget?” He was smiling now. “You have thin skin, Sunflower.”

  “Stop calling me Sunflower,” I giggled. He could call me Sunflower from now until forever.

  His eyes flashed and a dimple curled beneath his cheek. “I can call you anything I want, Sunflower. Since I don’t know your name, I’m going to keep calling you Sunflower.”

  That’s right. Wes didn’t know I was Jane. That meant I could have fun with him. I smirked, “Okay, Oak Tree. Tell me why you were staring at me?”

  He chuckled and muttered, “Oak Tree.”

  “You weren’t watching the magic show. You were watching me, Mr. Oak Tree. I’m not blind.”

  “What can I say? You’re more interesting than the magician.” He said it so casually it could almost be interpreted as an insult.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He snickered.

  “Are you enjoying this?” I challenged.

  “What’s not to enjoy?”

  “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

  His smiled widened. Damn it, he was gorgeous. “So I’ve been told. Can I ask you something, Sunflower?”

  Anything. I rolled my eyes, “What?”

  “Aren’t you late for your appointment?” He stifled a laugh.

  “Shut up, Oak Tree!”

  “Stalker.”

  I reached into my purse and grabbed the first thing I found and threw it at Wes. “Ass.” A crumpled up piece of paper bounced off his chest.

  “And a litterer too. Tsk, tsk, Sunflower. I should place you under citizen’s arrest and haul you off to jail.”

  I held up my wrists like I was ready to be handcuffed. “Oh, please. Would you? Before I commit some heinous crime against humanity?”

  “I’ll let you off easy. If you pick up your trash.” He toed the crumpled paper with his dress shoe.

  “You pick it up.”

  “One. Two. Three…”

  “Are you counting, Dad?”

  “I’m not your dad.” There was a sinful flash in his eyes. “Four. Five…”

  “It usually stops at three. A count of three.”

  “Six. Seven…”

  “Do I have until ten?”

  “Eight. Nine…”

  “What happens if you hit ten?”

  “Do you r
eally want to find out the hard way, Sunflower?”

  “Maybe I do, Oak Tree.”

  “You know what I love about oak trees?”

  “What’s that?” I sneered.

  “They’re so damn thick, from tip to root…”

  I laughed. He’d said it so sexually I couldn’t help myself. “I knew you were a perv! And a stalker!”

  “Make up your mind. And would you pick up your trash already, you dirty litterer?” His words dripped with sexual innuendo once again. He toed the crumpled paper and it wobbled slightly.

  I really did hate littering and never did it myself. “Fine.” I walked toward him and bent to pick it up, but stopped when I realized that if I bent any lower, or squatted down, his crotch would be in my face. There was no way around it. I hesitated.

  “Are you gonna pick it up or not?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  He grinned a syrupy grin. “I’m already liking it quite a bit.”

  I stole a glance at his crotch. Was he getting hard? I wasn’t going to look long enough to make sure.

  “Like what you see?”

  “No.” It was a lie.

  He chuckled, “Who’s the perv now, Sunflower?”

  “You wish,” I snorted, standing back up to my full height. Damn, he was really tall. Even in my new 5’9” body, he was much taller than me.

  “Pick it up,” he commanded.

  “No. You pick it up.”

  “I wasn’t the one who threw it.”

  I scowled, “Then back up so I can pick it up.”

  “You’ve got plenty of room.”

  I jammed a hand on my hip. “Do you like humiliating women?”

  “Nope. Just litterers.” He winked and smiled. Why did the stubble on his perfect jawline have to be so damn sexy?

  “Okay, okay! Move and I’ll pick it up.”

  “My pleasure.” He kicked it and it rolled behind me.

  “That’s not what I meant!”

  “You didn’t specify.”

  “Do you have more than zero friends? Or any people who don’t hate you?”

  “Never really thought about it. Pick up your trash, Sunflower.”

  I turned to get it, then I realized I’d be showing him my ass if I bent over. So I backed up and started to squat, but he was staring right at my cleavage. So I twisted my shoulder to the side and growled, “Getting a good view?”

  “Not as good as I’d like.”

  I swiped the paper off the ground and stuffed it in my purse.

  “So much better. And now I think it’s time for you to get to your appointment.”

  “You are a completely diseased dick, aren’t you?” I was now furious.

  He laughed happily. “No. Not at all, Sunflower. I even have the papers to prove it.”

  “Stop calling me Sunflower!”

  “Tell me your name and I’ll call you that.”

  “No!”

  “Sunflower it is.” He smiled a smarmy smile that was frustratingly sexy.

  “Seriously, does this approach work with women?”

  “You tell me,” he chuckled.

  My eyes flared with anger. “You know what? I have to go!”

  “To your appointment?” He stifled a laugh.

  “Yes!”

  “Better get moving. You’ve been standing here all day.” He still leaned against the cement column like he was going to stand there gloating until I left. This guy was infuriating.

  All he had to do was be the slightest bit polite and I’d be happy to stand and chat with him, but after the way he’d been treating me, I couldn’t continue talking to him in good conscience. This guy had the maturity of a fourteen year old. I wouldn’t encourage behavior like his by rewarding him with my name. I’d be a disappointment to myself and all of womankind. I turned to go. “Have a nice life, Pine Needle!”

  He laughed. “Hey, Sunflower!”

  I stopped but kept my back to him. “What?!”

  Right at that moment, two young women turned into the parking garage. They were chatting and giggling with each other as they walked past me and hit the button for the elevator. They were both dressed to get attention from men: tight skirts, low cut tops, and slutty high heels. It took a moment, but the two of them slowly noticed Wes. Once they did, they couldn’t keep their eyes off him.

  The brunette with the salon curls smiled at me briefly.

  I smirked back.

  The built blonde with the Kate Upton hair and boobs muttered to her friend, “What’s that guy doing?”

  Salon Curls said, “He looks like a stalker.”

  “He’s too cute to be a stalker.”

  The brunette giggled, obviously checking out Wes.

  I shook my head, scowling. I’m sure these bim-hos were more Wes’ speed than I was. They could have him.

  The Kate Upton blonde twirled a lock of her hair extensions with her finger and said to me quietly, “Are you with that guy?”

  “Pfft,” I answered and shook my head. “He’s all yours.”

  Her eyes did a devilish dance as she took Wes in. She bit her plump cherry glossed lower lip and flashed him a look that said, Your place or mine? Then her brows furrowed with uncertainty and she said to me, “Are you sure?”

  “Help yourself. Really. He’s all yours.”

  Her friend was as confused as she was, glancing between me and Wes.

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. The two bim-hos walked inside somewhat reluctantly. I walked into the elevator without looking back.

  “I still didn’t catch your name,” Wes said behind me.

  I didn’t want to turn around to face him, but I couldn’t stand in the elevator facing the two bim-hos. It would be weird. So I turned facing out and looked everywhere except at Wes. To his credit, he never took his eyes off me.

  The elevator doors could close any time they wanted to.

  “Your name, Sunflower.” Wes’ intense stare was making me squirm.

  To my annoyance, the blonde with the Kate Upton hair was holding the DOOR OPEN button. She said to me, “I think he’s talking to you.”

  “No, I think he’s talking to you.”

  Upton Hair frowned, then smiled at Wes, arching her eyebrows to say to him, You’re talking to me, right?

  Wes said, “No, I’m talking to the pretty little sunflower standing next to you.” His eyes were glued to mine. “The one who’s pretending to ignore me.”

  Upton Hair finally smirked and said quietly enough that Wes couldn’t hear, “He’s your boyfriend, right? And you guys are having a fight, right?” The thrill I felt that a woman as attractive as her would make that assumption was extremely annoying. She still held the DOOR OPEN button and Wes still stared at me.

  I grumbled, “He’s not my boyfriend. We’re not having a fight.”

  The brunette with the salon curls snickered, “I bet makeup sex with him is the best ever.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I growled.

  Wes heard that. “What she said, Sunflower. Makeup sex. You bent over the bed begging for more, me pulling your hair as I fuck you senseless from behind until you come so hard you can’t stand up.”

  The two bim-hos tittered, drooling over Wes.

  Salon curls giggled, “Oh my God.”

  Upton hair also giggled, “You’re such a lucky bitch.” She was talking about me. “I bet he has a huge cock.” Now she was talking about Wes.

  Salon curls tittered, “Totally.”

  Both of them were extremely annoying.

  Wes smiled a cocky smile and cocked his cocky head to the side, completely loving this. “Like they said, Sunflower. Best. Makeup sex. Ever.” He said it with a perfect California Mean Girl twang, that bottom of the voice clicky thing that Britney Spears popularized years ago and that now drove me crazy whenever I heard women talking like that. In 2016, everybody talked like a pop star.

  Salon Curls realized that Wes was mocking her expertly and she scowled at hi
m.

  He struggled not to laugh. “Sorry, ladies. Just having fun with you.”

  Salon Curls couldn’t decide if she wanted to smile and flirt with Wes or hate him.

  I could relate.

  Upton Hair decided now was a good time to take her finger off the DOOR OPEN button.

  It took a moment for the doors to start closing, but it was more than enough time for my impulses to take over and walk me right out of the elevator.

  As the doors closed behind me, Wes’ grin widened into a full, unabashed smile. He opened his mouth to speak.

  I glared at him, “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what, Sunflower?”

  “Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

  “I was just going to ask your name.”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes. I really do.”

  “It’s—” I seriously considered not telling him. “It’s Chelsea.”

  “That’s my favorite name,” he said with total sincerity.

  “No it’s not.”

  “It is now.” He held out his hand to shake, the one with the chunky gold bracelet. “Wes. Pleasure to meet you, Chelsea.”

  “I’m not touching you.” I stared at his hand, barely restraining my total disgust.

  “You know you want to—”

  Touch his cock. “No I don’t!”

  “—shake my hand. Because you’re not a bitch.”

  “I am not a bitch!”

  “That’s what I just said,” he smirked.

  “No you didn’t! You said… wait! Ugh! Would you stop! You’re hurting my brain!” I was getting completely flustered. Wes’ animal magnetism was undeniable. They didn’t make men any more gorgeous than him. It was killing me that I was so attracted to him. But then I remembered two things. One, he’d basically ignored those two bim-hos, and they were sending signals like crazy. Two, when I’d first met Wes, when I was just plain Jane, he’d treated me pretty much the same as he was now. But he’d also been nice and sweet and he’d made a huge impression on me that his current behavior couldn’t erase. And I had to respect the fact that he wasn’t suddenly kissing up to me now that I looked like a supermodel. He was acting like he genuinely didn’t care if I hated him or refused to speak to him ever again, like he was completely unimpressed with my looks. That I could completely respect.