by Lynn Stevens
Dad’s assistant annoyed the shit out of me. Since he hired her eleven years ago, she’d acted like my mother. Well, she tried. I made it perfectly clear that Ethel was more of a mother to me than she’d ever be. Then Ethel was fired, and the long string of cooks began. I pulled rank and asked Dad to tell Angela to back off. He had no problem doing that. Angela would stay out of the household duties for a while, but she always stuck her nose into the mix. Every now and then, I had to put her in her place.
I wished Dad would fire her.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked as I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. The glass was heavy in my hand. I screwed the top off and waited for an answer.
“Just getting the mail,” Angela said without looking up. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she quickly shuffled the envelope to the bottom. “Most of it’s junk.”
I took a long drink before closing the distance and snatching the mail from her hand.
“Hey,” she snapped. Her eyes widened with panic.
“It’s a federal offense to open someone else’s mail,” I said, turning my back on her. Maybe that wasn’t true, but I’d heard it somewhere. And it wasn’t her damn job to sort through our mail.
“Give it back, Rachel.” She reached around me and got her fingertips on the edge.
I yanked it away and elbowed her in the stomach. She omphed, and I smiled. Basketball taught self-defense. I flipped through the mail fast, flipping past the useless ads and bills until I spied an Italian postmark. I froze. Angela ripped everything from my grip.
“When are you going to grow up?” Angela asked, waving the mail at me. “It’s part of my job.”
“What’s the one from Italy?” I asked, the cold seeped into my voice. I turned toward her slowly. “Tell me. Now.”
Angela flinched, but only for a moment. She shook her head and rolled her ugly blue eyes. It was all fake. Something had rattled her. “Just something from one of our distributors.”
“Why here?”
“What?” Her voice cracked on the T.
“Why would it get sent here?” I enunciated each word. “Why not the office?”
Angela’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know. I’m not the one who sent it. Now leave me alone. I’ve got work to do.”
She stormed out of the room before I moved. I wouldn’t have stopped her anyway.
I wanted her lie to be true. So, I let her go and pretended I’d never seen that postmark.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You look lovely,” Joanne said as I stepped into the kitchen. She went back to chopping vegetables.
“Thanks.” I glanced down at my simple white skirt and boho mint green top. It was simple, but I was in the mood for simple. Plus, the colors darkened my olive skin. The strappy silver sandals rounded out the look. I’d spent the afternoon at Eloquence Spa getting my hair trimmed and highlighted and a mani-pedi. The mint green of my shirt matched the color of my toes. I also got a desperately needed massage. Basketball practice for three hours in the morning just about killed me. Vina had us run around the park, which was three miles.
“Going out with the same boy?” she asked without looking up from the red and green peppers.
I caught myself before wrinkling my eyebrows. “Yeah, why?”
Joanne set her knife down and turned toward me with a hand on her hip. “Because I worry.”
“You worry?” I smiled. It was nice to have someone worry about me.
“Yes, and I know it goes past my job and Angela will probably fire me if she finds out, but I worry.” Joanne reached over the counter and took my hands. “If you need anyone to talk to, you can come to me.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, fighting back the tears from this unexpected emotion.
She patted my hands then nodded toward the patio. “There is a boy out there who wants to talk to you. He’s not the one you’re dating, though, but I have heard his family name from your father.” Joanne went back to her cutting board. “He says he goes to school with you.”
That could be anybody. I slipped off the stool and headed toward the patio. Through the door, I saw who my visitor was: Erik Perday. I closed my eyes for a moment before stepping outside.
“What’s up, Erik?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. He could only be here for one thing.
Erik spun around and flashed me a million-watt smile. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but he had a pretty shitty attitude. “Hey, Rach.”
“Again, what’s up? Why’re you here?” I stood my ground.
“I need your... help.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. “I’ve fucked up big time.”
“And you want me to what?” I fought down the anger rising inside me. And the fear.
“After the whole Vicky disaster, we went out for a while, remember? It wasn’t ideal, but we made a good team. People forgot.” He had the balls to look sheepish. “I know you don’t like me in that way, and I know you don’t want to date me.”
“What did you do this time?” I snapped, interrupting his train of thought.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Seriously? It was all over the news.”
“I don’t watch the news. Too depressing.” If Erik had done anything illegal, his parents would’ve worked their asses off to bury it. “So?”
“I threw a fastball at Vicky during the baseball game. She ended up in the hospital.” He lifted his gaze and met mine. Regret circled his irises. “I didn’t mean to hurt her like that.”
“But you did throw at her,” I said, crossing my arms across my chest. Vicky hadn’t told me who was pitching when her ribs were broken. We’d been on fragile ground since I fake-dated Erik after their massive tiff. And that’s probably why I was left out of the loop. It always came down to Erik Perday.
“Yeah, I did.” He threw his hands in the air before putting them on the back of his head. “It was stupid and childish. When it comes to her I just...”
“Turn into a jackass?” I said dryly.
“She’s done everything she could to humiliate me for years.” His body deflated and his arms fell back to his sides. “We were both at a party, and she had all these guys hanging all over her.”
“Which is her choice,” I snapped. This was getting ridiculous. Erik was bordering on stalker territory.
“I know. And I acted like an asshole.” He rubbed his jaw. “Her boyfriend hit me hard.”
“You’re lucky that’s all he did.” I didn’t know Daniel that well, but I knew he loved Vicky whole-heartedly.
“I just don’t get why people fall for her shit and treat me like I’m the bad guy,” he said, sitting on the lounge chair.
“Then stop acting like the bad guy.” I walked over and sat beside him on the lounger. “Look, Erik, I know you’re not the asshole you play most of the time. Why can’t you let people see you’re just...” I struggled to find the right word... “sensitive?”
He snorted. “That’s what my therapist says.”
“You’re in therapy?” That was not what I expected. Erik was proud. It came with the name. Perdays did not need help doing anything.
“Mom thought it might be best.” He half-laughed. “You should’ve seen that battle. Dad was not about to let her win, but Mom wasn’t about to lose either. Several broken plates and glasses later, Mom consented. Then she made the appointment anyway. I’ve been going twice a week since.” He shrugged and glanced at me. “Just between us, it’s not too bad. Dr. Golderman doesn’t tell me I’m an idiot or an asshole. He just asks questions, listens.”
I put my hand on Erik’s arm. The fights his parents had were pretty epic, and not well known. They portrayed the perfect family in public.
“I wrote Vicky a long letter apologizing, but I can’t give it to her.” He stared out over the pool. “Dr. Golderman said it would help release the anger I’ve buried.” He turned toward me. “I wrote another one to Mom and one to Dad. They’ll never see those.”
“Why not?”
“Sure.” I slipped it under my leg.
“So, will you help me?” he asked, taking my hand. “Like you did last year?”
I knew exactly what he meant. Last fall, Erik and I went to Homecoming together and on a couple of dates. He wanted to piss Vicky off, and, to be honest, so did I. Vicky had humiliated me at a back to school party. She got too drunk and called me a motherless hag. Even though she apologized, it still hurt. Dating Erik was revenge for both of us.
“I’m sorry,” I said, really meaning it. “I’m seeing someone.”
“Really?” He smiled and laced his fingers with mine. “That’s great.”
The sliding glass door slid open, and I didn’t pull my hand away fast enough.
“What the hell?” Adam said. He stood ten feet away from us with his arms crossed.
“Shit,” Erik said, untangling his fingers from mine. The sweet, gentle Erik disappeared into asshole Erik. “That’s who you’re dating?”
I slapped his shoulder as hard as I could. “Don’t go there.”
“He’s one of the guys who tackled me at that party,” he said, pointing at Adam.
“After you attacked Vic.” Adam closed the distance in three strides.
The testosterone flew in every direction. I stepped in between them. Neither one would hurt me. That was the only thing I was certain about.
“Stop,” I said, putting one hand on each chest. I faced Erik. “Yes, I’m dating Adam.” Then I turned toward Adam. “Erik’s a friend.”
Adam snorted. “Some friend. He broke Vic’s ribs.”
Erik ruffled beside me.
“I know,” I said. “Just give me a minute.”
Adam’s gaze dropped to mine. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, caveman, I’m not.” I pushed him back gently. Under my breath, I added, “You don’t own me, Adam. So back off.”
His entire body stiffened. He spun on his heel and stomped back into the house. I shook my head. If only his jealousy was genuine. Once I saw the door close, I faced Erik.
“Sorry,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m working on it. I swear.”
“The anger? Or the assholery?” I asked, tapping my foot. “Look, Erik, if you let people see you the way you let me see you, they’d know you’re not the jackass you pretend to be.”
He snorted. “You’re one to talk, Rach. I should go. I’ll just...” He pointed to the side of the house and shrugged. “See you at school. And don’t let that guy hurt you, okay?”
“He won’t,” I said with a smile. What did he mean by that? It wasn’t like I hid who I was. Yeah, a few things I kept to myself. I shook it off. Erik’s therapy was working for him, I didn’t need it to work on me.
I waited until Erik disappeared around the corner of the house before snatching the envelope off the lounger. Adam barreled out the door and stopped in front of me. It was kind of cute the way his nostrils puffed out. His cheeks were red and his eyes wide. If only it was for me and not Erik. I needed to move on from this little crush or it would crush me.
“What?” I said, planting my fists firmly on my hips.
“He hurt Vic. What makes you think he won’t hurt you?” Adam said in very deep, very male voice. It was too damn sexy, and I didn’t want to hear it.
“Because I’m not Vic and he’s not...” I held up my hand. “You know what, I don’t have to explain it to you. It has nothing to do with our ‘relationship’.” Oh yeah, I totally air-quoted that word. “So just don’t. Let’s go to your party, play lovey dovey, and move on.”
I pushed past him and into the house. Joanne stood at the counter, wiping it down and ignoring me as I stomped through on my way out the front door. I could feel Adam behind me. He was close enough to know he was there and far enough back that my swinging arm wouldn’t accidentally hit him in the nuts. How dare he? We weren’t a real couple. That had been made clear on more than one occasion. Yeah, kissing him felt real. Yeah, hanging with him felt real. And yeah, sometimes I wished it was real. That didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t. It was a farce for one reason: to get over the Rebound label. As for Adam wanting to get over Heather, I couldn’t care less.
His truck shed rust on the driveway. I stopped by the passenger door, waiting like always for him to open it. He strolled around to the driver’s side and climbed in, starting the engine and waiting with his chin resting on his fingers.
Ugh, what a jerk. I yanked open the door and got inside. Then I wiped the nastiness of his truck off my hand and onto his shirt. Adam grabbed my fingers, holding them against his chest. It was only for a split second, but it was enough for me to calm down. At least until the evening was over.
“So, what’s the play tonight?” I asked after a few seconds of sad country music.
Adam put the truck in gear. He turned up the music as some guy wailed about his grandaddy’s gun or something. Country music was weird. We were out of my neighborhood when he finally turned it down and answered. “Maybe I shouldn’t pick you up. We could just meet somewhere instead.”
“Why?” I asked, completely flabbergasted. That seemed silly.
“Then I don’t have to see you with your other boyfriends.” His voice was calm, and he kept his eyes on the road. If I hadn’t just gotten my nails done, I would’ve punched him. “Especially that one.”
“Really? Because I have to see you swooning over your ex-girlfriend every time we go out. And wasn’t she the one who ratted Vicky out to the press?” I crossed my legs, bouncing my right leg nervously as I stared out the window. “I mean, she’s a real winner, Adam. She tried to wreck Vicky’s life. Erik only hit her with a baseball.”
“Why do you think I broke up with her?” he roared. “Nobody hurts my friends. That Erik guy broke her ribs. On purpose.”
“Seriously?” I turned toward him and shoved my finger into his shoulder. “First, great you broke up with the bitch, but you’re still so fucking head over heels with her you might as well go fuck her and get it over with.” He swerved, but that wasn’t going to stop me. “Second, he didn’t mean to break her ribs. He’s got some serious anger issues toward her for a million different reasons. I’m not saying what he did was okay, but he wasn’t trying to break her ribs. Third, what makes you so superior? You’re just using me. When this is over, Erik will still be there, and you won’t even have to see me again. And fourth, don’t ever think you can tell me who I can or can’t have at my house. If I want to invite Heather over, I will. You don’t own me. You don’t own this fake relationship. If we’re in this, we’re in it together.”
He put the truck in park and stared out the window. I glanced outside. We were at a roller rink. I turned back toward him just in time to feel his lips press against mine. It was innocent at first, just a light kiss. But my anger fueled me. I wanted him to kiss me like this, like she wasn’t around. He opened up and our tongues danced. I held his head in place, running my hands through his soft hair. So soft. When he moaned, I had to pull away. It was too real. Way too real.
His eyes seared into mine. He wanted more. So, did I, but I had a feeling his more was physical and mine was not. Well, not entirely. I wanted more emotional. I broke away from his gaze and glanced out the window, meeting the stare of someone else, someone very hurt by our little display. Heather stood across the street.
“I guess we gave her the show you wanted,” I said, nodding toward her as my heart sank into the rusted floorboards of the truck.
“Huh?” he said.
I shook my head and opened the door. Time to put on a show. Fake it til you make it, right? I stood on the sidewalk, waiting. Adam came around the front with a pair of socks in his hand. I laughed, mostly for show. Nothing felt funny or jovial at the moment. Everything felt entirely too fucked up.
“What’s that?” I ask
ed pointing to the white socks.
He shrugged. “I figured you’d wear some sandals, so I grabbed a pair of my socks.”
“Please tell me they’re clean,” I said, adding another musical laugh as Heather walked slowly behind him. My heart ached. It was such a tiny, insignificant thing, but he still thought of me. He noticed my shoes. He noticed me. I shook my head, still laughing on the outside and still breaking on the inside.
“Duh,” he said, smiling shyly.
I lifted on my toes and pressed a hard kiss onto his lips, no tongue. “You’re the best,” I said, taking his hand. “Let’s get this party started.”
“Rach, wait,” he said, tugging on my hand.
I turned around, and his gaze remained over my shoulder. We stood together, fingers entwined and bodies so close I could feel the heat rolling off him. He glanced down at me then sighed. With a smile that bordered on fake, he said, “We should make an entrance.” He nodded toward the front door. “Make sure we’re seen.”
“I always make an entrance.” I dropped his hand and put more distance between us. Straightening my back with a pride and confidence I didn’t feel, I turned on my heel and strolled toward the front with more swing in my step for me rather than him. He wanted a show tonight, I was going to give him one.
Just not with him.
My thoughts drifted back to Erik and how easily he wanted to do the same thing Adam was doing. Using me. Adam had no right to feel superior to Erik or anybody else for that matter. We were using each other. What made him think he could be so damn possessive. I plastered on a sexy smile and opened the door, hoping like hell it would smack Adam in the face. Faces turned toward me, smiled at me, people waved. They liked this give-no-shits Rachel. They liked the girl who had it all and knew it. They liked this girl who didn’t have a care in the world.
If only they knew the truth.
