Damaged & Off Limits Books 5--6

by C. C. Piper

  And the worst part was that up until I blacked out, I’d been having a great time with him. We’d been silly and joked around, but we also engaged in some serious discussions about our lives. I hadn’t planned to pour my heart out like I did, but afterward, I felt better. I felt closer to him, too. But the rest of the date ruined all that. I couldn’t undo getting so miserably hammered, and if we’d done more than that, I couldn’t take that part back, either.

  It was a no-win situation, no matter how I looked at it.

  Originally, my parents had agreed to attend the ceremony tonight, but my dad had been called to some emergency meeting about a new court case. My mom, too, begged off earlier today when one of her society friends called her in tears over some charity event that had gone sideways. My mom not being there hadn’t been so much as a blip on my radar, but my dad? I couldn’t say that one didn’t sting. At least Andy was going to meet me there.

  It’d help my nerves to know that my brother was there, supporting me and cheering me on. I pictured us going out for ice cream sundaes once I won. It was a tradition between the two of us, something we always did anytime we either wanted to celebrate a victory or lick our wounds after a defeat. It had been three years since we’d engaged in a Sundae Session, and I looked forward to it more than I could say.

  My first memory of one was the summer when I turned five and had successfully jumped off the high dive at the local rec center. Andy was twelve and walked me down to the nearest DQ. We also went after his junior league baseball team failed to win their last game of the season, and when a boy named Thaddeus asked me to my first middle school dance, only to dump me at the end of it.

  That had been my first taste of heartbreak, and after that, I had a string of bad dates and short-lived relationships. I’d believed Auggie to be the end of that awful streak, which just proved what a fool I was. And then there was the catastrophe of being set up to go out with Mason. I pushed the thought of my brother’s best friend out of my head. I didn’t know why I kept trying to win the romance game. I obviously wasn’t cut out for it.

  I sat on the first row next to the other applicants inside the cavernous auditorium. There were only ten of us total, and three would receive grants. I liked those odds. I’d poured my heart and soul into my essay proposal and felt relatively confident that I would be called up on that stage as a recipient. I might have failed at relationships and at pleasing my mother, but when it came to scholarly pursuits, I always nailed it. It was my one ace in the hole.

  Andy hadn’t arrived yet, which didn’t exactly stop my presses. As much as I adored my big bro’, he often ran what he called fashionably late to things. This drove me crazy, since tardiness was one of my pet peeves. I actually think Andy’s was what made it a pet peeve of mine to start with.

  Again, I craned my neck to try to catch sight of his blond expensively trimmed hair but didn’t spot him anywhere. I hoped he didn’t miss the announcement of my triumph altogether. After the past few crappy months I’d had, I was like an anemia patient about to receive a blood transfusion. I looked so forward to collecting this welcome jolt of good news.

  A loud squeal like nails on a chalkboard echoed over the crowd, and I jerked my eyes back to the stage. “Hello, everyone,” the voice of the presenter boomed through the mic loud enough to make my ears bleed. Then, he tapped on the damn thing for good measure. It sounded like canon fire. “If you’ll take your seats, the ceremony will commence shortly.”

  As the flapping and fluttering of a large group of people hustling to sit down disturbed the air around me, I covertly yanked my phone from another of my creations. I’d worn what I thought of as one of my office chic outfits, a royal blue pencil skirt and skinny belt with a white and black polka-dot sleeveless shell tucked into it and black peep toe heels.

  It was both feminine and professional, but I’d had to bring a purse because like most business attire, there were no pockets whatsoever. Maybe instead of handbags, I should make pants and skirts with at least ten pockets each. That’d show the fashion industry who’s boss.

  Yeah, right. Keeping my phone next to my knee, I quickly typed out: Where are you?

  Impatient now, I glared at the screen, awaiting my brother’s return text. It was one thing to be a tiny bit late and another to miss my big moment. I was still scowling at my cell when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I glanced up, expecting to meet either Andy’s sheepish gaze or some random member of the audience who had a question. Instead, the person standing behind me was Mason King. Shit. What’s he doing here?

  Before I could say anything, he offered me a side hug and a peck on the cheek. “Hey there, buttercup.” His crooked smile did something attractive to his scruff, but that smile was something I didn’t know how to read. “Andy couldn’t make it himself, so he sent me. Good luck.”

  Without further explanation, Mason dashed off again. I gaped at him as he located a seat a few rows back and stationed himself there as if he belonged. I wanted to schlep after him and demand some answers. Why wasn’t Andy here? Why had Mason agreed to show up in his stead? What had transpired between us that night after I’d lost consciousness? And why was he acting as if that date had never happened?

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer’s voice blared out again, letting me know I didn’t have time to chase Mason across the auditorium. “We’d like to thank you for attending the award ceremony for the Washington Venture Graduate Fund for this year. This grant was initiated by the local city council to provide some of the capital a new entrepreneur will need to back his or her business venture. It is my honor to emcee the ceremony today.” Everyone offered polite applause, as did I. And as if the import of what was about to occur hit me all at once, my intestines chose that moment to tie themselves into knots.

  “But first, let’s take a look back at some former winners of this fund.” A massive screen came to life then, showing images of what others had accomplished in the five years that this grant had been active. I saw a woman standing outside on a muddy patch of land holding a child with clubbed feet.

  Words came up telling us about how this member of Doctors Without Borders had used the money to treat children in Uganda who needed surgery for certain physical disabilities. Another recipient was a mechanical engineer working in Flint, Michigan to clean up their tainted water supply. A third was a guy who’d once been a player in the NCAA championships.

  He’d had a promising career in basketball, but instead, he’d gone into coaching disabled kids so they could compete in the Special Olympics. For the first time, a feeling of dread settled at the base of my spine, but I did my best to bat it away.

  The images on the screen were replaced by the live image of the announcer as he returned to the podium. “The first recipient of this year’s grant is Alicia Taylor.” The audience clapped and cheered, with one section in the corner being particularly vocal about it. Once the young woman had stepped up onto the stage, the announcer said, “Here is an excerpt from her essay.”

  “‘Animals are my life. When I was six, I brought an injured sparrow into my house, begging my parents to save it. We took it to the vet, and with some time and a carefully placed sling for its broken wing, we did. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to help these creatures, and my next step will be to complete my degree in veterinary medicine. I hope to open a clinic of my own that’ll provide pro bono services to those cases which require it.’ Beautiful, Alicia, and congratulations.”

  She waved at the audience then sat in one of the three chairs on the stage. The next grant winner was a man who planned to work closely with Habitat for Humanity to build houses for the poor down in Louisiana and Texas, the areas still not fully recovered from Hurricane Katrina, despite the number of years that had passed since then.

  The knots in my intestines cinched up even more tightly. The third name was announced, and it wasn’t me. By then, I’d had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t be. This time the recipient was a girl who’d grown up in
a physically abusive household. She planned to use the funds to bring greater public awareness to domestic abuse on a local and national level. Her goal was to both provide resources and counseling for victims suffering from it and therapy and other treatments for the abusers.

  Like everyone else, I applauded the winners, but I felt cold from the inside out. Some of it was disappointment, but there was a deeper feeling, too, one I didn’t know how to describe. The ceremony concluded and the crowd became more chaotic around me. All I knew was that I needed to escape.

  At least none of my family was here to witness this.

  With a rapid sweep of the auditorium, I realized I couldn’t see Mason anywhere, and I was so glad. I ducked around a group of jubilant audience members – the family and friends of the second winner – and flew toward the door. I’d just pressed forward and pushed the clanging metal mechanism open when I felt a hand on my arm, flipping me around.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t win, Alaina. I’m sure yours was awesome.”

  His kind words made me bite my cheek until I tasted blood. Not in anger but in an attempt to hold back my impending meltdown. My eyes and nose burned, and my throat seized up. I yearned to flee his scrutiny, yet at the same time, I felt soothed by him. He embraced me again. And this time it wasn’t a fleeting side hug but a full body connection as he pulled me close and laced his arms around my back.

  The contact wasn’t anything but steady and supportive, and I let myself accept it. Then, he twisted us around and led me away from what I’d believed only a half-hour prior would be an independent head start toward my future.

  6

  Mason

  I fought to keep my aggravation at the Williams in check. Andy was like a brother to me, and Bryant had invited me not only into his home but into his firm. Even matriarch Caroline, though sometimes austere, had never failed to be congenial to me.

  Yet not one of them had been here tonight for Alaina.

  My best bud had mentioned that something he’d been concentrating on for several months was finally bearing fruit, and that he needed to deal with it. I’d agreed, of course. It provided the excuse I needed to approach her in a way she couldn’t construe as anything but friendly and nonintrusive. Especially now that I’d given her some time and space.

  Then I was in that auditorium hearing about all the winners of that grant and the good they wanted to do in the world.

  Her plans had been about designing handbags, I knew. I’d paid close attention to everything she told me. And watching as she was passed by wasn’t pleasant. Apparently, the grant she’d hoped to gain access to was more about charitable works than someone who wanted to be more of a general entrepreneur. Maybe she’d simply overlooked what type of businesses the fund had been looking to target. It happened.

  But I could tell by her behavior that she wasn’t taking this well.

  There was also the matter of her disappearing act after our date. I figured she was embarrassed. I felt guilty as all hell. I’d never set out to get her wasted past the point of no return. Yet, I had.

  If she’d stuck around long enough for us to discuss it – even if it was only to blow it off – then things between us might’ve stayed how they’d always been. That wasn’t the way it had gone down, though, and now, she was having another rough night in my company.

  It was as if there was a cosmic conspiracy to put me in her path during some of her worst moments. Initially, I just wanted to yell, “Fuck my life!” But then it occurred to me that what she probably needed most of all was for someone to be her friend. We were friends in a manner of speaking already. We’d spent our childhoods and adolescence in a similar orbit.

  The only problem might be that Alaina and I had never been as tight as Andy and I were. She’d remained at the periphery of my friendship with her brother, she’d been with us in the temple but not the inner sanctum. Andy had treated her as someone he needed to watch out for more than someone he considered a confidant. Us being seven years older than her had contributed to this significantly.

  What teenage boy with his driving permit wanted to talk girls and parties with his nine-year-old sister?

  I got it. I’d felt the same back then. Now, though, I wanted to reach out to her.

  I stole a glance at her when I thought she wasn’t looking. She’d stuck a fake-as-plastic grin on her face, one likely taught to her as a debutante as being good etiquette. I wondered what would be best for her. Did she need peace and quiet to get over this or a distraction?

  As we crossed into the parking lot, she made an unhappy sound.

  “What is it?” I asked her.

  “Someone’s parked me in.” She waved toward a Mini-Cooper. Directly behind her vehicle was an enormous RV blocking off two additional cars. They’d even put those triangular chocks down in front of their back tires.

  For a second, she seemed furious, but then all the fight went out of her as she buried her face behind her hands.

  “Hey, no worries, buttercup. I’m parked along the road. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  “I just want to get out of here.”

  “No problem.”

  Once we were inside my Escalade, I studied her. The line of her mouth was downturned as she stared blankly out my windshield.

  “Want to talk about it?” I asked. Without looking at me, she shook her head. “When did you last eat?”

  “I don’t remember. Breakfast, I guess.”

  “You skipped lunch?”

  “I was too nervous,” she answered, and I knew I had my in.

  “Let me take you to dinner then.”

  “Mason, I know you’re trying to be nice and everything, but I’m just not up to going out to some restaurant where I have to keep up appearances.”

  “You don’t have to keep up appearances with me,” I assured her. “I’m just as cool with grabbing a burger and a pop as I am with sitting down to a hundred-dollar meal.”

  Her gaze flickered over to mine and then away again. She spoke in a faint voice. “A cheeseburger would be good.”

  I had to stifle my smile. “A cheeseburger it is.”

  As we inched forward through Dick’s Drive-In, which was in my opinion, the best burger joint in Seattle, I wondered what we must look like. Everyone milling around was in either jeans or shorts and flip flops. The dressy business attire Alaina and I were wearing stuck out like a sore thumb here in the grunge capital of the world.

  This was the second time that I’d witnessed the glory of Alaina Williams dressed to the nines, and it wasn’t easy to ignore that whole girl power CEO vibe she had going on. What a time to discover I had a fetish for such a thing.

  “Cheeseburger, fries, and a root beer?” I asked her, wanting to get this right.

  “You remember that I like root beer?” Her expression lost its pensiveness for a sec.

  “Sure. You’d sneak past Andy and me on your way into the kitchen late at night so you wouldn’t get in trouble for having caffeine.”

  “Or sugar. My mother never wanted me to have sugar. That’s a sure recipe for adding on a bunch of bulk, after all.” She rolled her eyes and blew out her cheeks as she said this, but I didn’t find it funny. Her tone was bitter to the point of being scathing. I really wished I could read her mind.

  “Well, fuck that,” I said, and an honest-to-God grin slowly filled her face for the first time tonight. “Sugar is a necessary evil, good for both celebrations and the worst of bad days.” The pickup truck in front of us moved, which meant we’d come even with the speaker. “Yes, we’d like two deluxe cheeseburgers, two orders of fries, two root beers, and two hot fudge sundaes with extra fudge, please.”

  The speaker crackled as the attendant repeated back our order, and within moments, we were driving off with our wonderfully unhealthy booty. I turned left then right, rolling through the familiar neighborhood. Much of the reason I’d chosen Dick’s – besides its excellent fare – was because it was two blocks from my townhouse.

&
nbsp; Once I brought us to halt in my garage, I glanced over at Alaina. She still held the white paper bags in her lap unopened with the drinks and sundaes stowed in a cardboard holder down by her feet. Andy had said he’d be tied up for hours, so we shouldn’t see him. And even if we did, he couldn’t object to me buying her some fast food after he’d bailed on her like he had.

  “Thought it’d be better to eat this at home rather than in here,” I told her, wondering if she’d balk. She didn’t.

  “Might need a little help getting all this inside,” she said.

  “I’m coming around.” I hurried to open her door and take everything but the root beer. We scaled the single step that led into my kitchen, then headed for my living room. I handed her the remote. “Pick out something on Netflix for us to watch, I’ll be right back.”

  I took off my suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of my button-down, secured a roll of paper towels and came into the room in time to see Alaina setting the whole spread across my coffee table. I plopped down on the carpet beside her, grabbing a hot fudge sundae. She stared at me, her eyebrows reaching toward her hairline.

  “What?” I dug into my dessert with the cheap spoon they’d provided. “If you don’t eat the sundae first, the fudge’ll melt all the ice cream.”

  She flicked on the most recent season of Stranger Things – nice choice – and we proceeded to decimate our food while watching the Upside Down encroach upon the fictional town of Hawkins, Indiana, circa nineteen-eighty-something. The credits began to roll on the first episode before she spoke up again.

  “I guess you already knew about our Sundae Sessions, huh?”

  Huh? “Sundae Sessions?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her eyes lasered in on my big screen. “That’s what Andy and I called it when we went out for sundaes. We did it anytime things went wrong. And also, when things went right.”