Текст книги "The Scheme"

Автор книги: Mia Kayla

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

THREE

KENDY

I rubbed my eyes open and looked at the digital clock on my mahogany dresser. The red numbers indicated three in the afternoon.

I stretched my arms, reaching toward the ceiling and released a satisfying sigh. My muscles were still tense, my body tired from my twelve-hour shift last night. More than that, my brain was mentally exhausted from all the run-ins with people from my former life.

The air conditioning in the background blasted on high. It was so comfortable I debated going back to sleep, but I remembered my meeting with a certain doctor, which jolted me from my half slumber and had an instant smile on my face.

My phone rang next to me, breaking me from my thoughts. A picture of my arm thrown around a beautiful brunette, my cousin, Beth, flashed on the screen. I picked up on the second ring.

“Kendy!” she squealed. Of course she had been up for hours already, since it was well into the afternoon.

“Hey,” I replied, my voice still hoarse.

“Sorry I missed your call yesterday. Kent and I . . . well . . .”

I groaned. “I don’t need to hear about your porno-filled escapades.”

She giggled, and I smiled as heaviness grew in my chest. I missed her. Our roles were reversed now. I had played the role of comforting her when she’d moved to Chicago, and now that she was all settled in and I had moved to New York, far away from family, I was the one who needed comforting.

I didn’t want to seem needy, so I spewed out information I knew she’d find interesting. “You’ll never guess who came strolling into my hospital with a busted eye.”

“Who?”

“Brian-freaking-Benson.”

“No way.” Her pitch increased an octave. “Wow, what’re the chances? What happened to his eye?”

“Well, he accidentally fell on someone’s fist.” I chuckled.

“Kendy, that’s not funny.” I could practically picture her frown.

“I know.” I thought back to the night before, him bleeding all over his shirt and the six-pack he’d been rocking. I sighed. “Seriously though, he was the cutest thing. All bleeding and shirtless. Remind me again. You guys never got naked, did you?”

“No! We never went that far. And quiet yourself down, Kent is right beside me.”

I laughed at her unease. “What? He’s right inside you? Kinky. I like.”

“Stop it, please,” she whispered. “How’s he doing, anyway?”

“He looked fine. I mean, whoa, that boy is fine, fine, fine. Are you sure you didn’t pick the wrong guy?”

“Kendy,” she scolded again. I heard her shift and whisper to Kent. “There’s only one for me.”

I heard a smacking of lips and rolled my eyes. I needed a barf bag at how unbelievably cute they were.

“Hold on, I’m moving into the living room.”

“Holding,” I replied, shifting off the comforter. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, headed to the kitchen, then reached into the fridge for a jug of milk. I was probably the only adult in NYC who loved cold milk in the middle of the afternoon. Growing up, it was always hot cocoa in the evening before I went to sleep, and cold ass milk in the morning with my cereal and afternoon snack. Milk had done my body good.

I tipped my glass back, enjoying the cold drink, which awakened me further. As I set my glass down on the counter, I wondered if Beth had put me on hold to have a quickie with her man. “Girlfriend, you there?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Kent gets all loco jealous. You know him.”

I would’ve spewed out some smartass remark, but I held my tongue. In their relationship, Beth wore the pants.

“I just wanted to check on you. I worry about you being there all alone.”

“You worry about me? Pfft. I’ve got my big girl panties on. I’ve met a couple people at work. I’m all good in the neighborhood.” I held the phone closer to my ear as my body slumped against the counter. I missed her voice, but I didn’t want to be that needy friend. If I complained that these people I’d met were nice, but nothing compared to our eighteen years of friendship, she’d book the next flight to New York.

“Kendy?”

“Yeah?”

“Was Brian okay?”

“Is this your guilty conscience talking?” I tilted my head.

I knew she had no feelings for the boy. She was with the guy she was meant to be with, but still. Beth was no heartbreaker, and she probably still felt some sort of guilt from how things had ended.

“He looked great, Beth. Really,” I said. “Plus, I didn’t really talk to him. But guess who else I saw?” I paused for dramatic effect. “Chlamydia Clary.” I bit back the bile creeping up my throat as thoughts of that fake witch resurfaced.

Now it was her turn to laugh at my misfortune. “Whoa, you have all the luck.” She knew how much I hated that boyfriend-stealing hoe.

“I know! Go figure. As big as New York is, two people I knew from before walk into my hospital. What’re the chances?”

“No kidding,” she replied. “I wouldn’t bank on winning the lotto anytime soon.”

“Seriously.” My eyes moved to the pile of bills I had to run to the post office, reminding me of all the things I needed to get done. “Hey, I gotta get this day going. I have a meeting with the doc tonight, but I’ve got some errands to run first.” I stared at the clock, noting that I had more than enough time to run my errands, tidy up a bit, and get ready for tonight’s mega meet up.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me.” Her voice hitched with excitement. “You guys are finally official?”

“No, but soon enough, babe. Don’t you worry.” I wasn’t. It was going to happen. I could feel it in my bones. Sarah and I had a foolproof plan.

“I know,” she said, sarcasm etching her tone. “The psychic’s prediction . . . yeah, yeah.”

My eyebrows pulled together as I focused on my glass of milk. I ran my finger against the condensation which had formed on the outside of the glass.

Evangeline’s predictions were my only lifeline, my hope of any future for happiness. But Beth didn’t take any of this seriously. Easy for her. Her life was perfect now.

I ignored her sarcasm and bit my lip as a shadow of disappointment filled me. “Well, I guess I should go. Love you. Tell your lover boy I said hi.” I hung up before she could get another word in.

After I ended our call, I rushed to the shower. Tonight was going to be big, and I needed to clear my head of negative thoughts. Plus, I needed to shave—ahem, everything—and figure out what I was going to wear. Hopefully tonight would be Dr. Hot Pants’ lucky night. And mine.

***

BRIAN

ESPN blasted in the background as I sat in the same spot since I’d woken up, working on the proposal I had to present to the credit committee on Monday.

Trey strolled into the living room in boxers only. “My head is fucking killing me. Damn migraines.” He stretched his arms over his head, making his already towering body even taller. It was his condo, so I didn’t have much of a say if he walked around half naked or not. At least he wore boxers. I had to give him that.

“You look worse than me, and I’m the guy who got sucker punched.” I smirked.

His eyes narrowed. “Shut up or you’ll be sleeping in the subway.”

I threw my pen at his head, and he chuckled when it missed him by mere inches.

When I’d told him I was moving to New York, he’d offered me his spare bedroom. I had jumped at the opportunity. We were best buds in high school and had gone through some tough shit when we were younger. I knew we wouldn’t have problems getting along plus rooming with him has saved me close to fifteen-hundred dollars a month in rent. I could’ve bought a house back home for what the landlords in Manhattan asked for a one-room closet they called an apartment.

With a sleepy nod at me, Trey strolled into the kitchen and pulled a carton of orange juice out of the fridge. He lifted the open spout to his mouth and guzzled it down.

Note to self: Pick up some OJ and label it.

Carton still in hand, he staggered toward me and plopped on the couch, staring at the TV in his zombie state. I ducked my head back into my computer as my fingers drummed against the keyboard.

“How’s your eye?” he asked as he chugged back his drink. His expression held a note of mockery. “Someone took a beat down.” He laughed.

Dick.

I touched the stitches at my brow, the puffiness evident and sensitive to the touch. When I brushed my teeth this morning, I noticed the swelling had gone down, but the blue tinge of a giant bruise had already appeared.

“What’re you talking about? I fell down the stairs,” I retorted.

Trey let out a carefree laugh, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he set down the orange juice on the center table. “Seriously, bro. What’re the chances that the hottest girl at the bar, also trying to get laid, had a boyfriend?”

I grimaced, rubbing my hand along my chin. Newly formed stubble prickled my fingertips. “I’m just gonna turn gay, bro. No complications. Men are more upfront and direct.” I wiggled my good eyebrow at Trey in a suggestive manner, clamping my lips shut so my expression stayed serious.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he chuckled, raising both hands. “I only swing one way. And you know how much I love me some ladies.”

His words rang true. I thought of the revolving door of women I’d seen make their way into the apartment since I’d moved in. Trey was never without company. There was a time after my sister when he’d given up on women. I didn’t know if it was because he was still holding onto the chance they’d get back together, or if whatever had happened between them had screwed up his view on the ladies.

He eyed my old half-eaten bagel, my poor excuse of a breakfast and lunch.

“Go ahead. I’m too busy to be hungry.” For the first time since I’d gotten up this morning, I closed my laptop and let my head drop to my hands, rubbing my forehead. I let all the tension from my shoulders ooze out of me.

I needed to win this deal. I had expanded a couple of relationships at work, selling current clients different bank products, but this would be a brand new client I’d be bringing on. I needed the Tiggins Corporation to switch from their current bank to Financial State, where we could service their multi-million dollar portfolio. This new client would secure me the promotion I’d been working so hard to get.

“I need to land this deal,” I sighed. “This would make my quota for the year, so I won’t be so stressed out.”

Trey placed a light hand on my shoulder. “You’ll land it, bro. I have the ultimate faith in you. First things first, let’s get some real food, and then let’s go out-out and try to find us some single ladies tonight.” Trey eyed my bagel with a pinched expression.

I shook my head. “Did you not hear what I just said? I have to work.”

“I heard you. I’m just not listening.” He reached for my bagel with cream cheese, and made his way to the garbage. “You can’t have bad luck two nights in a row. You’re stressed out, and you need a little release that only a woman can give you.”

This may be true, but I didn’t want any more complications in my life. “Naw, man. I’m just not in the mood.”

“I’m not asking,” he said about as sternly as Trey can get. “Get your ass off that couch. I’ll even let you pick the bar. And those stitches make you look badass. You’ll be a huge chick magnet.”

As if that was supposed to make the deal more appealing. But I knew, just like last night, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

I stood and stretched my legs, shaking off the cramp from sitting in the same position for so long.

Trey ran a hand over his hair then headed into his room. “Be ready in ten.”

With all the time he spent on his hair, I knew Trey’s ten minutes meant twenty, so I strolled at a normal pace into my room. My roommate had a love/hate relationship with his hair. Not like he had much to style anyway, and yet he had more hair products than all my sisters combined.

I shook my head. Maybe I had thirty minutes.

***

KENDY

I gave myself one more onceover in my bathroom mirror. The overhead florescent lighting showcased the glimmer of my eye shadow. I had curled my hair to perfection to ensure it would bounce with my every step, and my white halter-top hugged and accentuated my perky breasts.

I also had to bump it up a notch tonight, so I had heels to fix my height problem. At only five-five, I needed to compete with the many models trying to make their break in New York. Tonight, I was wearing my four-inch-clubbing heels. If he hadn’t noticed me before, there was no way I wouldn’t get his attention tonight.

I texted Sarah, but no response. Her last text had given the address of The Bartlett’s Night Club. Per our conversation last night, we had decided to meet there at nine, so I anxiously waited for her to get back to me.

Giving myself a satisfied grin, I strolled out of the bathroom. My heels clip-clopped against the hardwood floor as I sauntered into the kitchen. I opened the fridge for my boxed wine. Nobody was allowed to judge my love of the box. From the overhead cabinet, I reached for my pretty wine glass etched with a floral design, which Beth had given me for my twenty-first birthday, and poured myself a glass.

I rocked back and forth in my heels, just staring at my phone. My fingers twitched at my sides, causing the nervous jitters to jump up a notch as I waited for Sarah to call. Five minutes and an empty glass later, I texted Sarah I’d just meet her at the club.

I didn’t want it to seem like I had showed up to a place where Dr. Klein would be, so I had to get there before him. As if he would be showing up to my party.

I checked the mirror in the hallway one last time after grabbing my tiny silver purse from the counter. My gloss dazzled a perfect pink with added shimmer. I nodded once, satisfied with my ensemble, and then darted out the door.

***

BRIAN

When Trey asked me where I wanted to go tonight, he’d mentioned a couple of bars, one being The Bartlett’s Night Club. I knew it sounded familiar and, when I tried to recall if I’d been there, I suddenly remembered Kendy’s friend had mentioned it last night.

Ironically enough, Trey knew the owner’s son. There really wasn’t anyone Trey didn’t know. He was part of the ‘in’ crowd of Manhattan.

After moving to New York after high school, he’d gone out and lived it up, partied with the elite. His father had money and, as long as Trey worked for him, he kept those funds coming.

As soon as I stepped into the establishment, Trey spotted his friend while my eyes zoned in on Kendy, already sitting at the bar and looking so smoking hot I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Not like she hadn’t looked good in scrubs, but she was dressed to perfection tonight, and I hadn’t realized how hot her body was under her plain blue scrubs.

Before I could even figure out what I was doing, I was walking toward her, my feet moving against my own free will. Apparently, not talking to her tonight wasn’t even an option.

***

KENDY

The club bounced with the hip-hop music playing in the background. If Dr. Klein had chosen this place on a Saturday night, I had picked the right man. Because Kendy-Mendy loved her some hip-hop-hooray.

I pulled down my white scoop-neck halter and bobbed my head to the beat. I’d had to leave the panties at home since my dress wrapped my body in a tight vise and I didn’t want any panty lines. I was convinced tonight was my night, and he’d be mine for the taking.

My knees bounced as nervous butterflies stirred in the pit of my stomach. To say I was excited was an understatement, as evidenced by my overly large grin, but my stomach was in knots. The center of my palms began to sweat as I tried to keep the bouncing to a minimum.

I hadn’t had my sights on a guy in a long time. My pain was too great and it was easier to hide behind men who wanted nothing more than a quick lay. But now, I was done hiding my pain in one-night stands. I’d been looking for certain qualities in my forever male, and Dr. Klein possessed them all.

The truth was, he made me nervous. I wanted him so bad that the confident Kendy transformed into a school girl with a big crush when I was anywhere in his vicinity.

I’d been sitting here for so long, the ice in my Long Island ice tea had already melted. The only thing that was keeping my mind occupied were the three attractive males eyeing me from across the bar. A couple of them had offered to buy me drinks, but I didn’t want to do small talk, so I’d been upfront and told them I was waiting for someone.

When my phone vibrated in my pocket, I knew before I took a glance that it was Sarah. Suddenly, my smile vanished and worry seeped into my skin. She hadn’t responded to my last four texts, and I hoped she was okay.

My face fell as I saw the text.

Sarah: Sorry, babe. I’m not feeling well. I have this major stomach virus and everything I put in is coming out.

I lowered my head, hunching over to type her back, and released a heavy sigh of disappointment.

Me: It’s okay. I hope you feel better.

I leaned against the bar as my excited mood from earlier quickly faded. Why hadn’t she messaged sooner, preferably before I’d left the house?

My selfish side wanted to tell her to take some medicine and get her ass over to Bartlett’s ASAP. How the hell would I do this without my partner in crime?

We had rehearsed our lines and everything, and now my wing woman was unavailable. This blew.

I felt my full-on Kendy pout coming to the surface. I looked around, but I didn’t see the entourage of doctors that Dr. Klein was usually with, so I knew they hadn’t shown up yet. I didn’t even have a game plan, because Sarah was supposed to start the night cracking her random corny jokes. My job was to sit back and relax until he noticed me. I gritted my teeth as a shadow of disappointment crossed my face.

Now, what was I going to do?

I bit my pinky nail and tried to formulate a plan. Maybe a, “Fancy seeing you here”?

I shook my head and cursed at my lame, cliché line. Maybe I should just go home.

All talk . . . no action. I realized my bravado only surfaced when Sarah was around, especially when it came to Dr. Klein.

Before I could let my negativity take over, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Well, well, well. Look who I found.”

I cringed. My night had just turned from bad to worse. Slowly, I spun around and locked eyes with the blue-eyed culprit staring back at me, sporting a cocky smirk.

Brian.

I didn’t even try to hide my scowl. “Great, just great. I hate my life.”

He sighed dramatically, resting against the bar right next to me. “We’re running into each other way too much lately. It must be a sign,” he said, his voice tinged with humor.

I shot him a look and he laughed, which only piqued my annoyance. “Not a sign—luck,” I said, angling toward him. “Bad luck,” I quipped, using the line he’d used at the hospital.

His eyes raked my body, landed back on my face, and then he beamed with approval, which shifted my mood.

With a small sly smile, I rested my hand on his bicep and noted the well-defined muscles straining against his fitted white button down. My eyes focused on his face, pretending I wasn’t even remotely affected as I squeezed his arm, not noticeably hard, but just so I could feel how firm his muscles were.

Any woman had to admire a man who took care of his body and it looked like Brian did that well. I came closer until we were inches apart. Suddenly, his smile faltered and his look started changing. His eyes raked me in with a lust I was all too familiar with.

My chest was almost touching his, and I knew I had his undivided attention. It was as if he wanted to eat me for dinner, and then for dessert, too. Heat rushed my insides at our closeness. My breath caught in my throat as electricity zinged between us. The air shifted and there was an unexpected and abrupt attraction so strong that I forced my eyes shut and pulled back to find my bearings and give myself room to breathe.

I blinked a couple of times, still admiring the view in front of me. I wasn’t totally immune. No doubt, he was one attractive male. Just not the one I’d come for, I silently reminded myself.

I threw him a seductive smile. “Listen, I’m saving you the trouble. I’m too much woman for a good boy like you to handle.” I waved my hand to motion him to the other side of the room.

After a beat, he composed himself. “I think you have me pegged all wrong, Kendy. Who says I’m a good boy?” A mischievous grin crept up his face, the kind of smile little boys used when they were hiding something.

I laughed, because only good boys would say that sort of thing. “Because I’ve done boys like you. I know your kind. Plus, I certainly don’t take second servings.” I scrunched my nose as soon as the words left my mouth, my face flushing pink. I had no filter. I should come with a muzzle to keep me from saying things I shouldn’t be saying.

He just laughed, but I bit my lip. I hadn’t meant to sound so crude, or for it to come out like that. I knew he’d been heartbroken when Beth had chosen Kent.

I softened and tried to recover. “I’m sorry.”

“No big deal.” He shrugged, seeming unaffected. Maybe he was over her.

But what I said had been rude—honest, but still rude.

He seemed like a good catch. He just needed some coaching.

I straightened on the stool, ready to do him a favor. “Listen, Brian. Let me give you a word of advice. Quit being so nice.” I shifted so my leg brushed against his side, shooting a tingling sensation up my thigh. “Most women want either a bad boy or a rich boy, neither of which you are.”

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes as I spoke, which urged me to continue. “You can’t change the rich thing, but you most definitely can change the good thing. So if you want to find a good girl, be a bad boy, because women want to change that bad boy and will stay put. We get bored too easily with the good ones. It’s not that much fun. Trust me on this.”

I flipped my hair to the side, exposing my neck. His eyes flickered to my bare skin and I smirked, loving how I’d grabbed his attention. “I know how to play the game, so you’d be good to take my advice.” I patted his arm and nodded twice.

He gave me a disarming smile and my breath caught. I couldn’t help but smile back, the reaction automatic.

He angled into me, so close I could smell his aftershave, which was intoxicating. I could pretty much recognize all the colognes at the department store, but the one he was wearing, I didn’t. “You think I’m a good boy, and maybe I am.” He inched toward me, his warm breath on my face, making my nipples pebble. “But let me tell you, this good boy,” he smirked, pulling at his shirt, “can be,” he angled in even closer, “a very bad boy. In bed.”

I gulped, and my insides turned to liquid. I wondered if there was some truth to his words. I shook my head to get his perfectly sculpted, naked body out of my head.

Peering up into his baby blues, I pushed out my chest, being the tease I truly was. His eyes fell to my bust before landing back on my face.

Ah ha! The tables had turned. “It’s too bad . . .” I breathed as my eyes flickered to his lips. “That I’m never going to find out about this bad boy.” I ran a fingernail lightly down the inside of his arm, angling toward me. “I screw you . . .”

He licked his lips, his eyes focusing on my mouth.

“ . . . and you won’t be able to help yourself,” I said, breathlessly.

His eyes went half-mast as he leaned into me, so close I could smell the mint on his breath, could taste him, quite possibly kiss him.

It took all my self-control to push at his chest with my pointer finger. “You’ll fall in love with me, and that’s something I cannot have on my conscience.”

Then I swallowed hard, averting my gaze, and pretended his proximity did not affect me, while my heartbeat raced in overdrive.

Before he garnered a response, I recognized one of the attendees I worked with. Dan or Sam or something like that. Dr. Hot Pants would be making an appearance shortly. I knew it.

I straightened my skirt and pressed my lips together, evening out my gloss. “You need to leave. My date is coming any minute.” I practically tugged on Brian’s arm and motioned with my head for him to make an exit.

“Isn’t your date supposed to pick you up, not meet you at the bar?” he asked, with a shake of his head. “Seems like you’ve got a real keeper there.” His curious eyes followed my line of sight.

“Well, he doesn’t know he’s my date, just yet.”

Brian lifted an eyebrow and, as I fixed my gaze back at the door, my stomach dropped to the floor. Dr. Klein strolled in . . . with a tall, skinny blonde on his arm. The skin-tight black tube dress and four-inch heels made her mile-long legs look even longer.

No . . .

An onset of nausea spread throughout my body, and my lips pulled downward as the realization that all the effort I’d put into tonight had turned to crap. I closed my eyes, took a big deep breath, and forced myself to shake it off. Shake it to make it. I had to, or it would break my mood for the whole evening and into the morning.

I smirked and sat straighter on the stool, again dusting off this hopeless feeling. Maybe she was his sister. Or maybe not. But either way, she was a tad bit skinnier and taller, but I knew I had all the right curves in all the right places, and the difference was my shit was real.

I pulled at my dress and adjusted my ta-tas. It was time to step up my game.

Brian watched as I fixed myself then his eyes flickered back to the bar. I had to give him credit, though. He was trying to be discrete about it.

I paused as a bright idea came to me. Narrowing my eyes, I pulled him by the collar and wrapped my arms around his neck. He didn’t resist and, like a puppet master controlling their puppet, he molded against me and wrapped his hands along my lower back. A small smile played on his lips as though he was wondering what this psycho girl was up to.

I threw him my winning smile as I said, “I’m going to make you a deal, blue-eyed boy. You help me out tonight, and I’ll help you out in return.” My lips smacked together once more. “You can thank me later.”