Baby Be Mine (Spinsters & Casanovas Series Book 1) (36 page)

“You just like to mess with people’s lives,
like the puppet master you are,” Amelia commented, shaking her
head.

“I so don’t,” I chided, smiling at my
friends Amelia, Joanna, and Theresa, who were busy drinking and
eating their meals.

We were out celebrating our end-of-year exam
at Italiano, a restaurant in town, and their conversation about
their proposed work over the summer holiday really did bore me so
much that I had to say something just to change the topic. And now
they were all pressuring me into admitting I was the puppet master
who enjoyed controlling men, all due to my playful nature.

“Don’t argue with us. We know you, Kimmy,”
they all chorused, shutting me off.

I couldn’t negate that last comment. I was
always seen out and about with a different guy each month. But that
didn’t mean they owned my heart nor my body. It was what I called
my game of date selection.

How would I know who my future spouse was if
I didn’t go out on dates? Amelia liked to blame it on my playful
nature. As for me, I thought this trait could be attributed to my
birthright. My father was a highly established businessperson,
owning almost half the malls and properties in New Zealand. I
always thought this was an important aspect of my life, finding the
right man comparable to my status. But unluckily, the end of my
journey to finding the right man seemed light-years away. Then
again, I was only nineteen and still in college. A long way to go
before settling down and finding a suitable man to meet my father’s
approval.

“And how is Simon?” I changed the topic
again.

Amelia looked a little troubled. She put
down her fork and took a sip of water.

Something was up.

“Amelia, what’s wrong?” I immediately
asked.

“I haven’t heard back from Simon yet,” she
commented.

I thought it was just plain lies.

“Look at me.” I couldn’t help myself and
pulled her face to meet mine. It was always like this. This
compassionate and justice-seeking nature of mine always unleashed
whenever one of my friends was in trouble. “Tell me, did he do
something to you?”

“No, of course not.” She shook her head,
making me drop my hands.

“Then what is it?” I asked again. By this
time, the whole table was quiet. Joanna and Theresa were both
looking at us.

“Yeah, what is it, Amelia?” Joanna echoed my
thought again.

“Guys, it’s nothing. I’m just relieved our
exams are over,” she said and then proceeded to fork another
mouthful of spaghetti into her mouth.

I wasn’t one to be fooled. I’d known Amelia
for two years now and this was the behavior she usually exhibited
if something troubled her. While the other two went back to their
food and laughed merrily over some joke, I focused all my attention
on Amelia.

“Simon hasn’t been calling you?” I whispered
to her so the other two didn’t overhear our conversation.

“He’s busy, Kimmy.” She sighed, as if not
wanting to pursue the subject any further.

Abruptly, a chair was pulled out, and my
focused shattered, shifting to Joanna who only beamed her bright
smile at me.

“Sorry, got to dash to the loo. Too much
water,” she said before heading off.

“I’ll come too,” Theresa said before they
both went off in the direction of the ladies’ room.

I turned my attention back to Amelia.

“When was the last time he contacted you?” I
asked immediately, no longer concealing my voice. In the far
distance, I could hear Joanna and Theresa laughing about
something.

“Do we have to go through this, Kimmy? We’ve
just finished our exams. Let’s just eat, talk, and have fun.”

“We are eating”—I held up my own plate of
spaghetti to show her—“and talking; about your boyfriend. And the
other two are laughing. Hence, they’re having fun. So talk.”

“Oh, Kimmy,” she laughed and shook her
head.

I felt much happier at that point to see her
smile. But I didn’t give up. I urged her on.

“It’s been three week since I last talked to
Simon.”

“Three weeks!” I gaped. “Are you kidding me?
All my previous boyfriends didn’t even give me two hours of peace
before they rang my damn phone. I almost give in to my urges to
smash that damn phone into smithereens sometimes. Have you tried
texting him? Calling him?”

“Don’t give me that look of disbelief. I
called him before coming here. He said he’s busy. He’s taking his
bar exam after all. He needs to study. I don’t want to interrupt
him.”

“So what? As his girlfriend, you have the
right to interrupt him. I say go see him tomorrow.”

“That was my intention.”

“So what did he say when you called
him?”

Amelia was quiet again. She was pushing her
food around in her plate with her fork again.

“Amelia! What is it?” I drummed when she
refused to answer me.

“Hey… hey, what are you two talking
about?”

I looked up to see the other two back in
their seats and staring at me. I knew Amelia wouldn’t like her
problem advertised to the other two since she wasn’t that close to
them, so I let the subject go.

“No. Nothing.” I pretended to wave aside the
subject, deciding to dig deeper at a later time. “Oh hey, I heard
there’s a new club called Moonlight. We should definitely go
clubbing there tonight. What do you think, Joanna, Theresa?”

“I’m all for it,” Theresa said, agreeing on
the spot.

“Joanna?”

“All in. It’s been ages since I busted my
moves on the dance floor.”

“Amelia?” I asked, looking at my friend.

“Sure, why not?” she said after a long
moment.

Not knowing she’d fallen into my trap, I
smiled mischievously as we all headed out to Moonlight.

***

Out on the dance floor, the music was loud.
Theresa and Joanna were already out shaking their booties. Amelia
wanted to join them too, but I held her back and gave her a
cocktail.

“We need to talk. Like right now.”

“Okay. I’m all yours.”

I smiled.

“So…” I got into the mood of things, ready
to fire my questions. “Tell me—”

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” someone said
next to my ear. I turned a sour face toward that someone for
interrupting my concentration.

It was a man. Who was clearly drunk.

Someone should definitely kick him out of
the club.

“No, thank you,” I said before turning to my
friend again.

“Oh, come on. Just one drink. Want do you
say?” He continued to bug me.

“I said no. Now bugger off,” I told him in a
heated tone. But clearly, he didn’t get the message as he took
liberty with my bare skin and touched my arm.

“Oh, come on. Don’t play coy. With that
dress on, you’re just begging me to fuck you, right?” he whispered
into my ear.

I turned red. Sultry chestnut hair, curled
to flirt around my shoulders, and wearing a deep, rich red
sleeveless dress, I was a goddess on the dance floor. I couldn’t
complain when he said I was begging to be fucked. I really did
dress to impress. Although, to be fucked was not my intention.

I tore his fingers off my arm, disgusted at
the way he degraded me. I pushed him off the stool, pleased when
his butt hit the floor with a big thump.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” I warned him.
“Get away from me, you disgusting toad, or you’ll be sorry.”

I wasn’t kidding when I said he’d be sorry.
If Papa knew I’d been manhandled by any man, they’d be sure to
never get a job in their life. Coming from an influential family
with connections, I made sure no man had the liberty to touch me if
I didn’t wish it.

“Who’s a fucking toad, you bitch.” He didn’t
heed my warning and swore at me.

“I’m talking to you, you gutless bastard.
Clearly, you don’t understand the human language. So get out of my
sight.”

“What if I say no?”

“No?” I hissed. “How about this?” I threw my
cocktail into his face. “Now go!”

His face brewed an evil storm. “You fucking
bitch.”

He pulled me up close and glared at me. His
foul breath threw me off. His touch sent a wave of revulsion
through my body.

“I said don’t touch me,” I yelled, peeling
away at his fingers.

By this stage, I was aware many eyes in the
club were on me. But I didn’t care. This bastard needed to be
taught a lesson. But before I could pick up Amelia’s drink and toss
another dose of cocktail venom at him, he had his palms up in the
air. And I felt it before I saw it, that hand advancing towards me.
And I knew I couldn’t escape.

It was too fast. I closed my eyes, waiting
for that palm to slice my cheek, to feel the sting, whatever it
was—something at least—but… there was nothing.

I opened my eyes and saw black. No, it was
someone standing in front of me, wearing a black suit. I tilted up
my head and saw ink-black hair. It was someone coming to my rescue.
And it wasn’t until that someone spoke that I realized I was
holding my breath.

“The lady said not to touch her,” that
person spoke, his commanding tone vibrating off his back.

At that point, I felt my knees weakening.
That voice, it did something to me. And the next thing I knew, toad
face bastard ran off like the little rat he was and deep baritone
voice man turned towards me.

I froze, suspended in time. My breath caught
in my throat and my arms became limp. He was a beautiful man. Large
deep-grey eyes, the color of a brewing storm, straight-set
eyebrows, inky black hair slicked back in a fashionable style, long
Roman nose and a mouth made only for kissing. I swallowed while my
heart continued to thump in that odd crescendo, about to
explode.

I wanted him to talk again. I wanted to hear
his voice again so I could wake up from this delirious state. But
it was my friend Amelia’s voice that got through to me.

“Kimmy, are you all right?” she asked.

“Huh?” I turned my attention to Amelia, and
it was a moment I deeply regretted. It was only for a split second,
but by the time I regained my equilibrium, Mr. Baritone-voice had
already disappeared.

“Kimmy?” Amelia shook me awake again when
she saw my eyes searching for that man in the black suit. But he
was gone. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said absentmindedly.

“Kimmy!” Amelia shouted at me again.

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. Now where were we? Oh
yes, we were talking about Simon, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about Simon. Come on.
Let’s go dance. It’s safer than hanging out here.”

She dragged me out to the middle of the
dance floor, where we found Theresa and Joanna. They didn’t witness
the disturbing event previously, so both didn’t notice my troubled
state.

We were dancing. My body was shaking, my
legs were moving, but I was like a rigid doll, moving along to the
beat of “Pound the Alarm” by Nicki Minaj, without a soul and
purpose to my step. My head was too preoccupied with the man with
grey eyes.

Who was he? He clearly wasn’t a college
student, judging from the way he was dressed. He could be from
overseas, having a business meeting here. He did sound Australian.
But it was damned eleven o’clock at night already, and if he
clearly wanted to entertain his clients, then shouldn’t he pick a
club that wasn’t ninety percent populated with students?

My mind went around and around in an endless
loop.
Why am I thinking about this stranger when I only saw him
for less than five minutes? Why am I so captivated by him?

I didn’t want to think about him anymore. It
wasn’t like I’d be seeing him again. And just like that, I relaxed,
closed my eyes, and moved my body as a new song began, “Disturbia”
by Rihanna.

“What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel like
this? I’m going crazy now,” I lip-synced, closing my eyes. “Your
mind’s in disturbia. It’s like the darkness is the light.
Disturbia. Am I scaring you tonight? Disturbia. Ain’t used to what
you like. Dis—”

I opened my eyes at that moment and sucked
in my breath. Right there, staring right back at me with the same
intensity, was the man with grey eyes.

My heart pumped, my throat ran dry, and at
that moment, I begged the universe for him to speak again. But the
distance between where he sat in his private booth and the dance
floor where I danced were light-years away.

How do I show him I’m interested in him?

Remain eye contact. Don’t ever waver. Look
him straight in the eye. Flirt with him. Toss your hair about.
Dance seductively around your friend. And no matter what, remain
eye contact at all times.

I did all of the above, tossing my hair,
flirting with my eyes, looking at him beneath my lashes while
constantly keeping eye contact with him.

He was gripping his flute of champagne very
tightly. His lips pressed into a firm sexy line. And his eyes
remained focused on me. Did he feel that attraction too?

In the next moment, he placed his flute
neatly on the table, stood up, and made his way towards me.

Oh my God. He’s coming my way. What do I
say? How do I address him? What’s his name?

“Simon.”

“Simon?”
His name’s Simon?

“Simon’s here,” Joanna said close to me.

“What? Simon’s here?”

I got distracted, turning my gaze from Mr.
Baritone-voice, and followed Amelia wedging between the many sweaty
people, until my eyes could make out two bodies in the midst of
making out near the toilet.

Simon, sweaty and rough, was smooched up to
a girl about the same age as us, one hand up her skirt, the other
playing with her breast, mouth stuck to her lips like a leech.
Simon, blond hair, lean frame. I could recognize that frame from a
mile away.

“Simon! You bastard!” I leapt forward and
ripped his head from that girl before my mind could formulate a
plan.

“Owww, what the fuck!” he screamed, turning
to me. That bastard squealed like a girl. His eyes glared at me,
but once he saw Amelia, he shut his mouth and immediately went to
her. “Amelia, it’s not what you think?”