January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology (113 page)

“Gin, Blaine already hurt one of my family members. Bad. Really bad. He’s threatened to hurt me and Maddy. I cannot handle him threatening someone else I love. I need you to go and wait for me at the bar downstairs.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Please,” I begged while pressing the twenty into her hand.

I let her go and her eyes watered. “But what if he hurts you?”

“He won’t. I’m worth too much money to him. Trust me.” I stared into her eyes letting her see the fierce love and protection there.

She took a long, slow breath. “O-kay. If you’re not down in thirty minutes, I’m calling the cops.”

“Fine. That’s fair. Now go, before someone sees you.” I turned her around and gently pushed her toward the elevator.

I waited until she got on. “I love your guts,” she said.

“I love your guts, too. See ya soon, ho.”

Her eyes widened, but before she could get in a jab, the elevator doors closed. I chuckled and then put on my brave face. Time to deal with a monster.

***

Blaine’s office was black, red, and white. Reminded me of a racer’s checkered flag. Didn’t seem all that inspired as far as decoration goes, but it did connote his desire for “winning” pretty nicely. A buxom blonde with big silicone tits, a small ass and even smaller IQ, with an anorexic-sized waistline led me to his office.

“Mr. Pintero, Mia Saunders is here to see you.” She allowed me to walk past her. Blaine stood up. All six feet four of him towering over me. He was broad, with an additional solid forty pounds of pure muscle since I last saw him.

“Mia. Pretty, pretty, Mia,” Blaine responded holding out a hand, reaching to pull me close.

I pressed my own out, hand up and palm facing him. “Nope, I’m here for business not pleasure.”

“Why can’t we do a little of both?” His tone was sultry, his eyes like those of a snake, green and yellow. The pupil was black and beckoning, as if he could mesmerize me with one glance. I looked away and took a chair near his desk. I pulled an envelope out of my jacket pocket and slapped it on the glass surface of his desk.

“Here’s what you were wanting.”

“How could you possibly know what I want, pretty Mia? It’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other. Long enough for time to heal some wounds, wouldn’t you agree?” Instead of sitting across from me, he chose the chair next to mine.

“What do you want then, Blaine?”

“Time,” he said simply.

“Okay sparky, I’ll bite. Time for what?”

“I see you haven’t lost that quick wit of yours.”

“Blaine, the point? Get to it.”

“I want you to have dinner with me tonight.”

The man should be committed. “Are you insane?”

“Last time I checked, no,” he said flatly.

Suddenly, it was too hot in the small room that overlooked the rest of the Vegas Strip. My skin felt like it was burning, covered with acid, or maybe it was the anger boiling, so fired up it was overflowing.

“You beat up my father so badly he’s still in a coma.”

“That’s just business. You know that. He gave me no choice.” He reached an arm out to clasp my hand. The second his skin touched mine I jerked it away.

“Don’t fucking touch me. You lost that right years ago when you fucked me over. Now, you’ve screwed over my dad. You know he still hasn’t woken from his coma?” My voice rose so loud the people in the next office could probably hear me. “They’re not sure if the brain damage he sustained is going to affect his ability to speak or move his limbs!”

Blaine’s serpent-like gaze locked on mine. “That was an unfortunate side effect of his punishment. I’ve taken care of the man that hurt your father. He is no longer a problem. The additional violence has been avenged, I assure you.”

“You assure me. Do you hear yourself? Ever listen to what you’re saying? You’re talking about human life as if it’s something that can be easily given or taken away.”

“Life is fleeting.”

“Yeah, when you have your goons pound it out of people. I can’t even believe this.” I stood up and pointed down at the envelope. “There’s your money. Installment number two. In a month, I’ll mail number three.”

“You can bring it in person,” he clenched his teeth and gripped the chair handles hard enough to turn his fingers white. “You
will
bring it in person.” The tone brooked no argument, but I wasn’t one of his minions.

“That was not part of the deal.”

“Deals can be renegotiated.”

“Not this one.”

“What if I book your services for the month?” he threatened.

That’s when I turned on a heel and got real close to his face. I could see my breath ruffling the lengths of his sandy brown hair. “I’d be very careful about allowing me anywhere near you when you’re vulnerable.”

“Ah, but I’m a risk taker.” He smirked.

“Don’t bet on me, buddy. It’s the last bet you’ll ever make. I can’t be held responsible for what happens to you in your sleep. I can already hear my statement to the cops now.” I stood up, twirled my hair and made a pouty face. “It was an accident officer, I swear. We were having sex, and he liked it rough. I didn’t think he’d choke. One minute he was coming and the next going…” I clucked my tongue then looked down my nose at him. He visibly swallowed but didn’t show any other outward sign that I’d hit home with the threat, but I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t sure if I was bluffing or not. Didn’t matter. Just the fact that he had to think about it made me a winner.

“Now, I’ll be leaving. Thanks for the face-to-face. It’s always good to see old friends. Especially when they haven’t aged well. You should look into some eye cream and some face moisturizer. That desert heat is murder on the skin. Ta ta.” I wiggled my fingers in a sexy wave and I was out of there.

***

By the time I hit the bar Ginelle had two shot glasses lined up.

“Oh, thank God.” She slumped into her chair. I picked up one of the glasses of Patron Silver and slammed it back. Then grabbed the second and did that one, too. “Hey! That was supposed to be celebratory!”

“Another two,” I pointed to the glasses but looked at the bartender. He nodded, grabbed the tequila and poured another couple of shots.

After four shots to the head I finally stopped shaking.

“Are you okay?” Gin asked leaning close.

“Yeah, it’s just, there is no human on Earth that can make me that angry.

She took a sip of her soda and set it back down. “Did he threaten you?”

“Yeah, threatened to be my next client if you can believe that.”

Her eyes went as wide as ancient sundials. “What? That’s crazy.”

I pointed to her. “Right! That’s what I said.”

“Well, how did you get out of it? You’re not really going to be his next client are you?” She squirmed in her seat, obviously as uncomfortable with this line of discussion as I was fifteen minutes ago.

“Hell no! Basically, I told him, if he did, I’d kill him in his sleep.”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes bugged out. Then she tipped her head back and burst out laughing. “Only you...” She giggled and continued to laugh until she started to hiccup. “Only you would threaten a loan shark—allegedly a guy who murders people as part of his job. You better watch your back.”

I thought about what she said for a moment. Blaine could come after me, but that would be like killing the goose that lays the golden eggs. As long as I owed him money, or he perceived it as I owed him money, I was worth far more to him alive than dead. That line of thought worked for now. It would get me through the year at least. Long enough to pay him off and figure out my next move.

“So what beauty appointments do you have lined up for tomorrow. Part of my contract,”—I added air quotes around the word to emphasize my annoyance with it—“is to be perfectly presentable at all times.”

“Well, with the budget you gave, you, me and Mads are going to a spa. I had a buy-two-get-one-free coupon. We’re getting facials, waxing, manicures, pedicures, the works! Oh, and you’re getting your hair trimmed. I had to pay extra for that, but you said you needed it so whatev’s.”

“And that was all within the budget?”

“I got people, who got people, who give me fat discounts. So yeah, it’s in the budget.” Gin rustled in her purse and pulled out a pack of gum. She opened it up and shoved a piece in her mouth, chewed a few times and groaned.

Staring at her, I tried to place my finger on what was different. Something was up with her. “What’s with you and the gum?”

Her eyes brightened and a small smile slid across her face. “Trying to quit.”

“Quit what?”

Her smile dropped and her face went slack. She twisted her lips pinching them between thumb and forefinger. “Smoking,” she said quietly.

Oh man, and I didn’t notice. Shit. Best friends notice when their friends all of a sudden no longer have a cancer stick poking out of their mouths. “Shit, Gin, that’s amazing! How is it going? Why didn’t you tell me?”

She signed. “Well, I
would
have but you’ve been all about Wes, and Alec and the job and you haven’t asked me once how life back in Vegas has been for me aside from me checking on Maddy and Pops.”

I closed my eyes and took a breath then opened them and looked at my best friend in the whole wide world. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good friend have I?”

She shook her head. “No, you’ve had a lot going on. I get that.”

“It’s not okay. You’re important to me too. I want to know what’s going on in your life. You’re still my best friend and I fucked up. I won’t let it happen again. Promise.” And I meant it. Every last word. I’d been a sucky friend to Gin and she’s done nothing but support and love me through all of this. Taking care of Maddy, checking on Dad, all while she has her own life and struggles. 

“And if you do it again. What do I get?” Her tone was light and forgiving. It was our way. We’d never stayed mad at each other longer than a day in our entire lives.

I thought about it for a moment. “Naked pictures of one of my hotties?” I offered knowing Ginelle was nothing if not a sex-driven hoochie.

“Deal!” She put out her hand, and we locked pinkies, then she kissed our combined digits and then I did. No red stain on the flesh. Best. Lipstick. Ever. “You know though, you have been pretty bad…” She frowned and made a sad puppy dog face. “I’m thinking you should give me something to prove you’ve got the goods.”

I licked my lips and stared at her. Then I grinned, kept my gaze locked on hers but pulled my phone out of my back pocket. With quick movements I brought up the section of photos I’d filed away. I scrolled to one and then turned it around.

Ginelle looked at it and her mouth dropped. “You fucking skanky assed whore,” she whispered, mouth agape, eyes glued to the screen. I pulled the phone back and looked at the picture I’d taken of Alec lying in bed asleep. He was lying face down. His strong, muscled back and tight, bare ass were on full display. The long russet and gold hair fanned alongside the pillow highlighting his perfection.  The light was shining just so that morning, and I had to capture it.

I found the next image. It was Wes on the beach after we’d surfed without the trainer. Over the month I’d gotten pretty adept at the art of surfing. That day I’d already come up on the beach and was checking my phone when he got out of the ocean, and started pushing down his wet suit. The fabric caught and so did my camera when that suit pushed almost past the point of no return. The picture showed his golden chest down to a supremely trim waist. A lovely happy trail led the way to a small tuft of curls where his cock lay hidden by the wet suit. I turned the camera around and Ginelle balked. She picked up her shot, slammed it back and swallowed. “I fucking hate you,” she said while staring at the image.

“Yeah, I hate me too,” I said looking down at my sweet Wes. The one who’d asked me to stay, and I still left something behind with that Californian movie-making surfer, but I’d never admit it. Not even for a moment.

C
HAPTER 3

The housekeeper who let me in brought me through the Penthouse apartment and beyond a set of double doors at the end of a spacious home on the fortieth floor. The elevator felt like an amusement park ride it took so long to get to the top. I’d bet good money the view was impressive.

Distracted, the man set my bag on a padded bench in front of a monster sized bed, turned around and disappeared. That’s when I heard the sound of rushing water. Someone was taking a shower.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

That was the last thing I needed. To meet my new client when he was naked. I clenched a hand around the strap of my purse and planned to make a hasty exit when the door opened. A large form emerged from a wall of steam. The lighting around his silhouette created an ethereal picture that could feature very easily on the big screen. It stopped me dead in my tracks by the force of sheer wonder.

That’s when my client entered the room, clad only in a small towel precariously dangling from his hips. Water droplets streamed down every scintillating inch of his muscular frame. My mouth went dry, and my heart might have actually stopped beating. It was okay because I decided right then and there it would have been a good way to go.  Basically, in my twenty-four years, I’d finally seen perfection in all its naked glory.

“Holy mother of God.” Drool may have slid over my lip and down my chin. Wes and Alec were something to write home about. And I did. Often. To Ginelle, who poured over every letter. Anthony Fasano, on the other hand, was beyond the realm of female comprehension. He was massive. A brick house. Based on what I could see of his thighs peeking from under the towel, they were the size of tree trunks. Square pecs and rectangular muscle cut like a graph along his chest and abdomen. And the arms...I couldn’t even think straight for how much I wanted to touch those arms. Have them hold me close, wrap around me. Make all the hurt of the last two months go away. 

Anthony’s ebony hair was slicked back; water dripped from the longer layers, and fell onto the widest shoulders I’d ever seen. And I’ve seen my fair share of naked, hot guys. This guy was ripped, and not in that gross body builder way where the muscles bulged and veins stuck out of the skin like ropes. No, he was in a league of his own. I knew he was a boxer and had seen a picture of him in his boxing shorts but that paled in comparison to the real deal. Holy shit, was he the
real
deal. More like a handful of aces.