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Breaking the Plan: Mill Street Series #1

Page 12

by Calla, Jessica


  Of course, it was a complete lie. I wanted to go to have an excuse to run into Taryn. Wrong or not, I didn’t care. It didn’t really violate any of our rules. What kind of trouble could we possibly get into in a room full of rich people, especially with her representing the pageant?

  Mom tsked but said, “We could squeeze a seat. You’ll need your tux. I’ll pull it from your closet and have it pressed. Will Violet be back by then?”

  Violet. “Um, no. She won’t be back until Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s a shame.” Mom sounded more disappointed than I felt. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Vi to come home, but I just needed more time to sort through my feelings. “You know,” Mom continued, “I talked to her mom. She told me about you two breaking up.”

  I gulped. “She did?”

  “I felt like an ass for not knowing. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you. Brought you cannoli, sent you to therapy, I don’t know. I feel like you aren’t including me in your life.”

  “Ma, please.” I shook my head. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m twenty-one, not fourteen.”

  “But you were going to marry Violet. You have the ring.” Mom’s voice raised a couple octaves, and I could hear her going into her panicky mode. I imagined this was all she’d talked about with my father since she found out.

  “Don’t worry. I’m still figuring out my game plan to get her back. Dad told me that he broke up with you, but you still married him, right? And stop getting in my business.”

  “You’re right about your father, the big dope. And I may be meddling, but you know I can’t help it. You’ll always be my baby, and I want to fix everything for you.” Fixing. Another Stoneridge trait.

  “Please don’t talk like this at the Charity Ball next weekend. If you call me your baby, you’ll destroy my reputation before I even start working there.”

  She laughed. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “No, no, no. This is your best behavior, which is scary. You need to make an effort to be on even better behavior.” Best behavior. I thought of Taryn’s legs wrapped around me and reminded myself to take my own advice. “So I can go?”

  “Meet us here next Saturday and we’ll go over together.”

  “Thanks, Ma.” And now I had to get her off the phone. I took a deep breath and blurted, “Go enjoy your dinner. Say hi to Dad. I gotta run. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I ended the call and threw my phone on my desk. I’d have to get a haircut and do something about the cast. But I couldn’t wait to be there with Taryn, to be around her. Even if I couldn’t get my lips on her, I missed her.

  Damn, this was going to be a long week.

  * * *

  Taryn

  Since I had the Miss Lovely New Jersey event on Saturday night, I took the weekend off from the store. Because nobody at the store knew about my title, I had to lie to Mr. Johnson about why I needed off. He gave me the time and let me make up my hours by working three days in a row after my classes.

  Damn Ashton for having to go to rehab. I’d sent her flowers and a card, even though I’d been tempted to curse her out for leaving me with the crown. This event though, for the Parson House, was special to me.

  Grant pressed me on my plans. “Are you going away with your boyfriend?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, so that would be a no.”

  “Girls’ weekend?”

  “Nope.”

  “Going to visit your parents?”

  When I glared at him, he backed off, and later, during my break, he showed up in the break room with a pizza. “Here,” he said. “Eat.”

  My mouth watered from the smell of the sauce. “Is this a ploy to get me to talk?”

  He slid the box toward me. “No. It’s my peace offering. I won’t bother you anymore. You’re such a blow to my ego though.”

  Scoffing at him, I flipped the box open and inhaled. “Ah, so good. Join me?” I knew with the event Saturday, I should’ve been watching what I ate. But I hadn’t had carbs in days and I was Hungry, with a capital H.

  Grant and I ate together, and I could admit that he was decent. He told me about graduating NJU the year before with a business degree. What it was like to be a grad student. How he wanted to take over the store so his father could retire. He had plans, which made me a little jealous. I wished I had everything decided for me, like Grant and Oliver had. It would have made things easier.

  “What do you want to do with your life?” he asked.

  The dreaded question. I gave him my standard answer. “Broadcast journalism.”

  He nodded. “You don’t sound very excited.”

  I slurped my soda and smiled. “Is it that obvious?”

  Shrugging, he offered me another piece. “Pretty much.”

  I declined a third slice. My dress was forgiving, but not three slices forgiving. “I’m not sure what I want to do.”

  He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. “Well, what do you like?”

  “Not much.” Sadly, it was true. I listed the things I liked doing. “Reading. Lying on the beach.” I tapped a finger on my lips. “I’d love to travel, but I haven’t been off of the East Coast.”

  His eyes grew wide. “You haven’t?”

  “Nope.” I popped the “p.”

  “Name where you want to go and I’ll take you. Anywhere in the world.” He leaned forward, studying me with a serious look in his grey eyes that told me he wasn’t joking. His longish hair fell over his forehead.

  When I started dating, my dad had a saying, “It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is a poor one.” Not that Grant was rich, but the store did well. And in a few years, it would be his. It had been in his family for generations, since the inception of NJU, Mr. Johnson had told me. That Grant could sit there and so easily offer me the one thing in the world I really wanted—travel—blew my mind. Here I was struggling to make rent every month while Grant didn’t blink an eye about globetrotting. Maybe I was doing life all wrong.

  But when I thought about it, if I ever got to travel, I wanted it to be because I’d made it happen myself. Not on the coin of some well-off guy who, when it came down to it, just wanted to have sex with me. And even though Grant looked good, I couldn’t be less interested. He didn’t give me that butterflies-swarming-in-my-stomach feeling.

  I wanted someone who would make me feel the butterflies. Make me feel unsettled. Unbalanced. Someone who could surprise me. Someone who I could look at and know that every day would be something new. I didn’t know Grant that well, but I didn’t think he was that guy.

  So far, there was only one guy who continued to surprise me. Who looked like a nerd but kissed like he’d won a prize in it. Problem was, he was in love with my best friend. I’d have to get over my thoughts about Ollie and my butterflies because he belonged with Violet.

  Even though I could accept that, it completely sucked for me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Oliver

  There must have been five hundred people in the ballroom for the charity event. I followed my parents through the huge double doors that led into the dimly lit room, which was decorated in silver and candlelight. As soon as I walked in, I searched for Taryn. Then I realized something that hadn’t dawned on me.

  I’d actually have to hobnob with the firm people. Great.

  My parents found our table and everyone stood, extending hands. I’d had my cast removed, demanded it actually since the orthopedic at the hospital wanted it on another week. I couldn’t deal with my parents and the lawyers asking me what had happened.

  As I looked around the table, I tried using memory tactics to recall their names. At our table of ten, there were four old men, two middle age women, and a young-ish woman who looked to be in her late twenties. My parents took their seats together, and I ended up between the young woman and one of the middle age ones. The young one was a talker too. I think she liked me, or she wanted to impress my parents. She ba
rely let me get a word in edgewise.

  But since salad had already been served, I had to sit and play nice. The group asked me about my plans, the LSATs, and admissions, and then they recalled their stories of law school. Mom and Dad beamed like I was God’s gift to the firm. Between servings I practically ran to the bar, frantically needing a drink and hoping to find Miss Lovely New Jersey. I even took a trip to the men’s room and checked the pageant’s social media. Based on the photographic evidence, she was here. Somewhere. Maybe she was hiding, like me.

  When I returned to the table, the main course had been served. I scoffed it down, trying to focus on the band’s dinner music instead of the table chatter. But a speaker took the stage and the band went on a break.

  The representative from Parson House thanked us for being there and said that someone wanted to make a personal statement. I glanced up to the stage and paused, mid-bite of my filet mignon, as Taryn walked to the podium. The Parson House speaker introduced her as, “Miss Lovely New Jersey, Taryn Michelle Markos.”

  Mom waved at me from across the table. “Isn’t that Violet’s roommate?” she whispered.

  I finally unfroze myself and put down my fork. My parents, with their backs to the stage, twisted to see Taryn as I watched her through the crowded room.

  She wore the black, half-dress she’d considered for the pageant. The one that was a scrap of material with no back. Holy shit. My dick hardened at the sight of her. It couldn’t be a normal reaction to want her whenever I saw her. Pull yourself together, Stoneridge.

  She thanked the Parson House guy and then turned to the audience. “I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. Please, feel free to keep eating.”

  Her voice waved through me like it was bringing me to life. Obviously, I didn’t eat another bite. I watched her, wondering if she could see me.

  “I only wanted to thank you for your donations and commitment to the Parson House. I don’t usually share this but…” She paused, looking down at the podium and then back up into the crowd. “When my pageant coordinator asked me to do this event, I answered yes without hesitation. See…”

  She paused again. My heart hurt for her, but I didn’t know why. I could feel her discomfort, and I fought the urge to go to the podium and whisper in her ear that everything was okay.

  Her shoulders rose and fell, but when she looked back up, she lifted her chin in determination. “My family and I were homeless for a short period.”

  Mom spun to meet my gaze. I shrugged. I’d had no idea.

  Taryn continued, “Without the Parson House, I don’t know what we would have done. They provided us with a place to stay, a place that kept us warm in the winter. They helped my parents keep me in school and find affordable housing. They let my family use their wonderful facility to apply for jobs. We were lucky because my parents were able to turn it around. I’m forever grateful and proud to be a success story for the charity.”

  Everyone clapped. I sat there, staring.

  She adjusted the microphone in front of her. “Thanks to charities like Parson House and opportunities like the Miss Lovely New Jersey Pageant, I’m able to attend college. Please know that the people you are helping wish they didn’t need your help, but still, they are grateful. I’m grateful. So, thank you.”

  With that, she rushed off the stage.

  I rushed after her.

  Without looking back at the lawyer table, I kept my eyes on her and walked across the ballroom. Although she moved with a determination to get to the doors, people lined up to talk to her, blocking her escape. I waited in the queue that had formed.

  As I got closer, I heard her voice. “Oh, thank you.” And again, “That’s very kind.” I peeked through the crowd that had gathered to see her.

  The black gown looked a lot better on her body than it had on the hanger. The Miss Lovely New Jersey sash hung over her shoulder, and she’d piled her hair up on her head and secured a tiara around it. My body tightened as I imagined pulling the damn thing off.

  Finally, I made it to the front of the line. She told the group in front of me that she was hoping to “do something that would change lives” someday. I smiled. The words sounded nice coming out of her mouth.

  When I was next in line, she had her back turned to me. She reached up to fix a loose strand of her hair. Up close, I could see that the dress attached behind her neck, leaving the rest of her back bare all the way down to the curve of her ass, save for the sash. Her skin looked as smooth as marble, and her vanilla scent destroyed any resolve I might have shown. My hands twitched, desperate to reach out and touch her.

  As much as I’d thought about seeing her again, I hadn’t thought about what I’d say.

  I went basic. “Bella.”

  She spun around and looked me up and down. I guess I looked pretty good for a so-called Nerdilicious dude. Borrowing her line from the first time we went out, I said, “Come on, woman. Just say, ‘You like nice.’ You can do it.”

  When she flashed me that beauty pageant smile, we were suddenly the only two people in the room.

  I let my gaze drift down her body. “You look incredible.” When my eyes met hers again, I choked out a “wow.”

  The blush spread from her chest up to her cheeks. “Thanks,” she said, touching her hair again. “I guess you heard my speech?”

  “Yes.”

  She shifted her weight, fidgeting with her hair and looking up at the ceiling. “I—”

  “It was wonderful,” I interrupted. “Really.”

  An event photographer barked at us to pose. I widened my eyes like a kid who’d gotten caught by the teacher as I tried to keep the mood light. “No pictures, thanks,” I said to the photographer. “I’m allergic.”

  She laughed and then bit her bottom lip. “What are you doing here?”

  Being around her made my pulse race, and when her gaze landed on my lips, I damn near passed out from dizziness. “Uh, the firm has a few tables.”

  Her blush deepened, and I wondered if it covered her entire body. With a twist of that one little button behind her neck, I’d be able to tell. Between the way she looked, the way she sounded, and the damn vanilla, my dick rose to attention even though I was literally and figuratively under a spotlight. I shifted my weight so that my tux jacket would cover me, hoping none of the firm people—especially my parents—were around.

  When she glanced behind me at the line forming, I remembered she was there on a job. I took her hand in mine and held it to my lips. “You take my breath away,” I whispered before kissing her fingers. “Save a dance for me?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. With a wink, I started back to the table.

  “Ollie?” she called, stopping me in my tracks.

  When I spun around again, she was focused on me through the crowd. “Did you know I was going to be here?”

  I didn’t want to answer the question so I grinned and walked away.

  That time, when I went back to the firm’s tables, I had a smile on my face. Having a dance lined up with the most gorgeous woman in the room meant that my night was looking up.

  * * *

  Taryn

  Our eyes met every time I’d glance into the crowd. Oliver circled me, looking amazing in his tuxedo. Big guys always looked awkward and uncomfortable in tuxes. On Ollie, well, he looked like a black tie runway model. And to make the look more irresistible, he’d done something with his hair. Instead of his unruly curls, it was shorter, gelled or something into adorable swirls.

  I tried to ignore the fact that he’d heard my admission about being homeless. I hadn’t wanted to make myself more of a spectacle than I already was as Miss Lovely New Jersey, but I did want to thank people for donating to charity, especially this one. Of course, I didn’t think I’d know anyone there either. I was glad Oliver didn’t seem frazzled by my admission.

  When he’d greeted me after my speech, he must have turned on a GPS in my body. No matter where he went in the room of hundreds, I’d
see him. I’d talk with the people posing for pictures with me and then look into the crowd, and he’d be there with that grin on his face.

  I felt his eyes on me, every minute. Heard his laugh from across the room like we were the only two people there. My nipples hardened in the halter dress’s built-in bra, my fingers danced over my thighs as I imagined touching him, and my breathing became ragged when my thoughts took me too far. I was certain my thong was soaking wet from my reaction.

  At one point, I had to excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room and calm myself down. When I looked in the mirror, I groaned at my flush, certain that everyone in the room could read my thoughts. I didn’t mean to react like that to my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, but it was like my body knew something my brain didn’t. Or maybe it was my heart that knew. Something in me wanted him.

  Since the crowd had moved onto dessert and my commitment was winding down, I walked back to the ballroom and told the pageant photographer he could leave. He packed up his things and gave me his card. He’d scribbled his personal cell number on the back. I almost laughed because it wasn’t him I wanted. At all.

  I sat at the table with the charity directors during dessert but didn’t eat anything. They all thanked me for my speech, telling me they appreciated the personal aspect I’d shared to inspire them to continue their work. They asked me to be a spokesperson for the charity, but I politely declined, citing school and my Miss Lovely New Jersey commitment. Some of the ruder people at the table made comments about how I’d skipped dessert, assuming I was on a diet since I had to look good all the time. That wasn’t really the case—anxious energy had killed my appetite.

  Finally, the band started up again and people strayed from the tables to dance. I waited, knowing he’d come to me.

  When his hand touched my shoulder, a spark lit through me. His breath tickled my neck as he leaned close to speak in my ear. “Ready for that dance?”

  Oh, hell yes. My lips parted, but I couldn’t form words. I’d worked myself up so much that by the time I stood to accompany him to the dance floor, I thought I’d have an orgasm on the spot.

 

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