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“Eventually, I called him. He’d given me his number, but I hadn’t had the courage to call him up until then. The number...was a fast food place. It’s not hard to guess what he meant by giving me that number, is it? I found out later he’d gone to prom with the head of the cheer squad because of course, he had. I felt like such an idiot. I cried and cried like an idiot, too.”
“And you promised yourself you’d never be tricked again,” I say, my voice shivering with withheld rage. “Honesty, always. I’ll never trick you. I mean every goddamn word I say to you. I’ll never break a promise. You can always rely on me. What was this jock’s name, Kimberly?”
“Why do you want to know his name?” she murmurs, tears shimmering in her eyes.
I reach across and wipe her cheek with my thumb.
“Why do you think?” I snarl.
“I don’t want to give you his name,” she says. “What if you hurt him or something, and then you go to prison, and then we can’t be together? I’ll tell you if you really want me to, Kris. But please don’t make me. I just want to forget about it.”
I sigh, fire blazing in my gut, a hundred urges roaring at me to find this motherfucker and make him pay.
“Okay, Kimberly,” I tell her. “But only because you looked so fucking sexy when you asked me.”
She giggles, shaking her head. “I’ll never get used to you telling me that.”
“Good,” I say. “That means it will be special every time.”
A smile touches her lips.
“What is it?” I ask her.
“I’m just picturing Alexis’ face when I tell her I’m quitting. I bet she’s going to go crazy.”
“You sadistic little minx,” I chuckle. “And I thought I was the savage.”
She laughs with me, a glorious sound, as chandelier light shimmers against her cheeks.
Chapter Eleven
Kimberly
I walk out of the real estate office with a huge grin on my face.
I feel a little sadistic as I head toward Jackie’s car, Tinkerbell propped up with her tiny paws against the glass, watching me approach.
Maybe I shouldn’t be smiling this much, but Alexis’ reaction was everything I hoped it’d be.
She raged and yelled and then finally she started to snap at me, saying she was planning to fire me anyway so it didn’t matter. There was no ciao for now for me as I turned and headed for the door.
I walk across the parking lot, the sun shining brightly as though the world knows that we’re going out on the water today.
Jackie reaches over and scoops up Tinkerbell as I open the door, sliding into the seat next to her.
I sit back, letting out a sigh as my head falls onto the headrest.
My bottom still aches a tiny bit from last night, from all the spanking. I wanted that dinner to go on and on forever, but once we’d eaten dessert, Kris told me that he had to leave and handle some business.
It seems the Mafia world never sleeps.
“Am I crazy?” I murmur as Jackie pulls away from the curb.
My big sister grins over at me, eyes alight.
“Oh, you’re crazy,” she laughs. “I just hope your craziness doesn’t result in us being evicted.”
“Me too,” I murmur. “Maybe I should’ve made sure this thing with Kris is real first. But the thing is, Jacks, it feels so freaking real. It feels like the truest, most honest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Being with him is so easy. It’s so right.”
She nods, keeping her eyes on the road. I study her profile, her button nose, her pixie bob hugging the sides of her head. She looks so much like Mom, like the photos I’ve studied over and over again through the years, wishing I could reach aside and feel the warmth of her, just once, the reality of her.
“Are you excited to go out on the yacht?” I ask.
“The yacht,” she repeats, with a wry grin. “This all seems so unbelievable.”
“I know,” I say, unable to stop a glowing smile from spreading across my face. “But it’s real. It’s happening. He wants me and I want him. I hope you can support me in this, Jacks. I promise it won’t affect your art career.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she says, reaching over and softly shoving my shoulder. Tinkerbell gives an accompanying yap. “Just worry about yourself. Worry about what you have—what your building. I won’t lie to you and say this is in any way normal. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. As long as this is real, then I’m on board.”
As long as this is real.
The phrase bounces painfully around in my mind.
She’s voicing the same fears that gripped me last night when I told Kris about Aaron Fitzgerald, the preppy douche-king who pretended to invite me to prom. Just for a joke, a twisted cruel joke.
