Pretty Reckless, page 4
“I love the spa, but what I really want is to move out to California and do makeup for the stars. My brother is a big-shot financial broker in Los Angeles. If he'd let me stay with him while I got on my feet, I know I could make a killing out there.”
“Have you asked him?”
The corners of her mouth turn down. “Nikos thinks what I do is a joke. He keeps telling me to get a real job.”
“That's shitty.”
“Thank you!” She throws her hands in the air. “He and my parents think I’m wasting my time because I’m not out making a stellar living, but they don’t get it. I’m passionate about what I do, and I’m good at it. All I need is to catch a break. But, until then, I’m the broke-ass troll who lives in my mom’s basement.”
My hand falls on top of hers. “I don’t think you’re a troll.”
She looks down at my hand and back up at me with pinched brows. “Thanks.” She pulls her hand away and rests them both in her lap. Another quiet moment hangs in the air. I need to think of something else to say quickly before she blows back the inevitable question . . .
“What’s your story, Chase?”
And there it is.
For the better part of my adult life, I’ve mastered the art of small talk. It’s simple, really. The secret? Keep the conversation on them. People inherently love talking about themselves. If you seem really interested, they’ll just keep going. It’s a weird self-involvement the majority of humans have. Except for me. I avoid it at all costs.
“There isn’t much to say. I work at Morello and Tate’s on the highway.”
“Doing what?”
“Car repair. Not my dream but it pays the bills.” My dreams turned out to be more like nightmares. It’s true what they say—be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. I got it, all right. Then I lost it. I lost everything.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” The waitress’s final appearance takes the emphasis off me. I reach into my pocket to grab my wallet, and Kat does the same.
“I got this; don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure?”
A smile rolls across my face. “Yes. But I appreciate the reach.”
The giggle that follows catches me off guard. Everything about her is dark and snarky, but that one tiny piece of childlike laughter brightens up her entire being. I get the feeling it’s not something she gives up easily. This is the first time I’ve heard the uplifting sound float from her chest, and I’ll do anything to hear it again. But something tells me she’s going to make me work for it.
Between our arrival and departure, the number of patrons in the place doubled. We let ourselves out through the fence rather than going back through the restaurant the way we came. In the parking lot, I pull a pack of Marlboro Lights from the pocket of my sweatshirt and bring it to my lips, extracting one with my teeth.
“You smoke?” Kat’s eyes widen. “Excuse me, Slim Goodbody. Doesn’t that kind of go against, like, everything you stand for?”
“What can I say?” I mumble around the filter. “Some vices are harder to give up than others.”
The flame glimmers against her judgmental eyes and pursed lips as I light the tip of my smoke. “Well, then . . .” She shucks one shoulder strap from her enormous bag, letting it fall open in front of her. With her opposite hand, she rifles through it then extracts a cigarette of her own. “Got a light?”
She leans against the trunk of my car, one slender leg crossed over the other as she blows smoke rings into the warm night air. “You wanna do something else, or you calling it a night?”
Letting the filter dangle from my lips, I pull my phone out halfway to check the time. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”
“No, I took off. The only thing I have going on tomorrow is attempting to get my car from impound. Here’s hoping Athena can give me a ride.”
“Do I wanna know how your car got impounded?”
“Probably not.” I watch her throat move as she tips her head back and lets out a steady stream of smoke then flicks the butt onto the pavement with an explosion of orange ash. “Thanks for dinner, Chase. And for bringing my phone back. I owe you one.”
“Well, you had to put up with my preachy rhetoric all night, so consider us even.” I walk around to the passenger side and pull open the door. A light gust of wind blows through the lot, pushing a purple and black strand across her face. Without a second thought, I skim my finger down her cheek, freeing the silken length from her massive eyelash. She shivers. “Cold?”
“No,” she whispers and climbs into the seat.
The tingling feeling shooting up my forearm doesn’t quit as I close the door. She felt it too. The electricity. It’s the only explanation for the sudden spark in her eyes the moment my fingertip touched her temple. I can’t get involved. My life is hanging by a thread as it is. The last thing I need is another beautiful project dragging me down, but the thought of never seeing her again creates an uncomfortable flutter in my chest. If one good thing comes from the mistakes I’ve made, then that makes them worth it.
I couldn’t save Desiree.
But maybe I can help Kat.
Chapter 6
Kat
The melody of Katy Perry’s “Roar” blasting in my ear jerks me suddenly awake. Mr. Nice Guy? Who the hell is this, and why is he calling me at this ungodly hour? Oh, it’s ten a.m. Shit. “What the fuck do you want?” I grumble into the phone, picking at my eyelash.
“Bad time?”
I sit up, the timber of Chase’s deep voice filtering into my ear like a gentle nudge. Mr. Nice Guy. Funny. Judging by how stellar our first date went, I didn’t expect to be hearing from him this soon. Or at all, for that matter. When he dropped me off last night, he said he’d call me. In guy speak, that means a week from never. “No. I’m awake. What’s up?”
The cracking sound of a freshly lit cigarette speckles through the speaker. “Taking a smoke break. Thought I’d say hi.”
What the frig? “Dudes don’t just call to say hi. What’s on your mind?”
“Well, I kinda wanted to apologize for being a dick yesterday. Wasn’t my place to lay my hang-ups on you.”
“Thanks. You’re right. It wasn’t.” I do a little hop, trying to avoid Aphro’s bolt into the yard as I slide open the patio door to grab a smoke. “Mr. Nice Guy, huh?”
He chuckles. “I guess I overshot with that one.”
“Lil’ bit. I’m changing it to Neck Tattoo as soon as we’re off the phone.”
Another smooth laugh warms my blood in the cool mid-morning air. “Okay, you do that. I gotta get back to work.”
With the filter clipped between my lips, I light the tip and inhale the first, beautiful drag into my lungs before replying, “All right. Well, maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Definitely. Bye, Kat.”
I cross one arm over my chest, holding my cigarette behind my shoulder as I watch Aphro sniff around the yard. That was weird. Chase randomly called me for no other reason than to apologize. Never in my life has that happened to me. Friends, relatives, loved ones, old and new—they all just do and say whatever the fuck they want with no regard to my feelings. I may as well not even have any.
The phone’s speaker rumbles in my armpit as Katy Perry’s voice cries out a second time. My stomach jumps. A smile rolls across my face thinking Chase might be calling again, but it’s just Athena. “Yasou?”
“Hey, Kitty. If you wanna get your car, be ready in fifteen, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” I feel my face fall as I disconnect the call. It didn’t occur to me how badly I wanted to see him again until he said goodbye. The sound of my name in his smooth baritone caressed my ear. It’s one silly little syllable that seems so sinful sliding from his lips. It only made me want to hear it over and over, whispered against my hair while his rough hands touch my body.
Jesus, Kat. Take a friggin’ pill.
I shake the salacious thoughts swimming in my head with a whistle. You’d think I’m hard up based on the onslaught of hormones rioting inside me at this exact moment. I must be close to my period or something.
Aphrodite finishes her business and sprints through the door with me on her heels, still thinking about Chase’s sea glass eyes and bow tie lips curled into that dreamy half-smile as I get myself into the shower.
“Thanks, Athena! I’ll see you at home.” I slide into the leopard-printed seats of my Honda Civic and rest my head on the steering wheel as if embracing the machine after too long. It’s silly to give an inanimate object human qualities, but Black Betty and I are tight. We’ve been through a lot together. One repressed homosexual ex-fiancé, two jobs, and my parents’ divorce. She’s old, rusted in the fender, and dented on the quarter panel, but Black Betty’s never let me down.
Until now.
When I put the car in drive and ease off the lot, a high-pitched squeal screeches from beneath the hood. “C’mon, Betty, don’t do this to me!” I already dropped two bills to get her out of impound; I don’t have the money to pay for any big repairs right now.
The bright yellow building stands out on the highway like a beacon in the dark. It’s ridiculous. Didn’t fluorescents die with the 1980s? Who paints a building that color? At any rate, I pull into the parking lot, squealing like a banshee, hoping Chase can fix it before tonight.
The office door at Morello and Tate buzzes overhead as I let myself in. The chick behind the desk doesn’t look up, but who could hear it over the absurdly loud heavy metal music blaring from her computer speakers?
She turns the volume down and smiles. “Can I help you?”
The idea that I appear as though I’m a psycho stalker hits me like a truck. After one date, I show up at his work? He’s going to think I’m a lunatic. “Um. Is, uh, Chase . . .” What the hell was his last name? “Um. Tall guy, neck tattoo . . . Is he here?”
Wheels rumble over the filthy gray-and-white checkerboard tiles as she pushes back in her chair. She emerges from behind the enormous desk, an honorary member of the Lollipop Guild, all cute and little in her auto shop tee.
Before she gets far, the door to the shop swings open. “Oh, Jameson. Wanna tell Chase he’s got a visitor?”
The guy leans back and bellows for Chase then comes all the way into the office. He’s tall and built. His hair’s a little shaggier than I’m into, but if I’m looking for a night away from my dog, he’s more than fine.
Fine being the operative word. Hello, Big Arms.
The secretary offers a tight-lipped smile and returns to her desk while Big Arms leans across it on both elbows. “You’re a friend of Chase’s?”
That’s a loaded question. What are we? We had one date, on which he was totally hostile yet incredibly sweet. He called me today but didn’t ask me out again. Clearly, he’s not interested. I guess friends is a good word to describe us. “Sort of?”
The door opens again, and Chase comes through. “Kat. What’s up?” Ice blue eyes land on mine, and my mind starts moving a mile a minute. Holy shit. His tight T-shirt is torn and bathed in gook, as are his jeans, but none of that matters because the rest of his body has me tongue-tied. It’s a perfect V from his broad shoulders to his slim waist. On the right, the family of skull heads grappling up his hand and forearm give way to a murder of crows flying under the torn sleeve of his tee. The left side is just as ornate, swirling patterns and bold pictures I just want to stare at all damn day. He’s long, lean, and one hundred percent fuckable. If only he were interested.
“My car is squealing, and I don’t know what’s wrong with it, but I just got it back, and I need it to be fixed because I have a big job tonight. I realize I only just met you, but I don’t know what to do, and I don’t have a ton of money. . .”
I hear myself rambling off a cliff, but I’m powerless to stop it. Filled with shame for stalking him at work, worry about my car, and arousal jabbing me in the cooter, I just keep going and going until a smile splits his face, and he holds out his grease-covered palm. “Relax. Give me the keys. I’ll check it out.”
He takes the key ring from my hand and points out the front windows. “The black Honda?”
I nod.
“Jill can get you some coffee or something while you wait,” Big Arms tells me as Chase walks out the front door with another loud buzz.
“No, I’m fine, thanks.” I turn to sit on an old couch along the window, but my heel gets caught in a divot in the shitty floor. Big Arms catches me before I fall, but my shoe isn’t quite so lucky. Shit. This fucking day is turning into a disaster already. I bend down and swipe what’s left of my Steve Madden ankle bootie off the floor with a huff.
“Oh crap, miss. Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”
“Well, this is sixty bucks I’ll never get back,” I shoot, holding my busted heel in my hand. Big Arms’ green eyes widen as he takes in my bitter expression. Heat rises up my neck and into my ears. Unfortunately, I inherited the Andropoulos temper. One tiny setback can send me into a rampage of insults, curse words, and threats that have been known to send people crying into back rooms on more than one occasion. I’m ready to blow my top, but as Big Arms’ pectoral muscles flex under my hand, I start to rethink that plan. “You know what? They were last season anyway. It’s fine.”
“I can reimburse you for your shoe.”
The shop door slams when Chase reemerges, but I’m too busy working it now to pay him any mind. “It’s not a problem. Really. But maybe you can make it up to me over dinner.”
“Uh. Kat . . .”
I take a wobbly step closer to Big Arms, ignoring Chase’s obvious attempt to flag me down. “Or we can skip the dinner and go straight to dessert,” I simper. “Your call.”
“I’m not sure my wife would appreciate that.”
“Your wife doesn't have to know.”
In my peripheral, I see the secretary turn to look at me wide-eyed as Chase groans and drops his head into his hand.
The light dances in Big Arms’ eyes and a lazy grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “She already does,” he says, chucking his thumb over his shoulder. “She’s sitting right there.”
My eyes roll to the right, my head slowly following their path. Mrs. Big Arms chuckles, wiggling her fingers with a curt wave. My lips part, but I’m too mortified to speak. I just hit on a married guy in front of his wife. How the hell have I sunk so low?
Chase takes my arm and leads me into the parking lot, anger clouding his light eyes. “I cannot believe you just propositioned my boss.”
“That’s your boss? Holy hottie, Batman.”
“You are unhinged.” He pulls the cigarette out from behind his ear and bites it between his teeth, lighting the end. The smoke spirals around the letters C and O on his two fingers. “What am I gonna do with you?” he asks, a smirk breaking through his annoyed expression.
“Sorry, dude.” I shrug. “I should go apologize, huh?”
“Nah, Jill’s cool. Don’t even worry about it.” He sighs. Once again, the butterflies flap as the tip of his tongue swats his lip ring. Sometimes, just the tip is enough. “Your car’s got a bad compressor bearing. Should be an easy fix, but it won’t be until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow! But I have someplace I need to be tonight!” I whine.
With the cigarette still clutched between his fingers, he runs his palm over the short dark stubble on his head. “Where ya gotta go?”
“My friend, Devin, is doing a revival of ‘Hedwig’ at The Wellmont. I’m doing the makeup for it. It’s a huge job for me. I can’t not go.”
“I can take you.” A hint of defeat peppers his smooth, buttery tone.
“Really?” The smile on my face is a little too wide given the situation. My car’s in the shop, my favorite shoes are ruined, and I just made an enormous ass of myself in front of everyone, but I can’t help the thrill that rolls through me when Chase offers to take me to the show tonight. “You’re the best!” The mixed fragrance of grease, spice, and tobacco fills my nostrils as I throw my arms around his neck. For a guy who’s not real big, he sure is solid.
“All right, all right. Let me get back to work.” He steps back, breaking my embrace. “You have someone who can pick you up?”
“Yeah. I’ll call Athena.”
“Call me later.”
Chapter 7
Chase
Kat sits in my Jeep, crossing and uncrossing her slender legs. Every time she does, the ridiculous heel of her boot rubs against her leather pants, making a quiet creaking sound. Her dramatic lashes are tipped with glitter, and the diamond shine of her gloss makes her lips look perpetually wet. Red today, just like the shoes on her feet.
The line in front of the theater already stretches around the building. Rows of people in garish clothing, glitter, and exaggerated wigs mill about waiting to get inside. My gaze rolls to Kat as she grasps the handle on the car door. “This is a drag show.”
“Duh. I told you. Devin’s playing Hedwig.”
“Who the fuck is Hedwig?”
One sculpted eyebrow lifts along with the corner of her candy-coated mouth. “Only the greatest stage show of all time! Come on.”
She disappears through the door and reaches behind the seat for her enormous tackle box of goods. It’s made of steel, and it’s the size of a friggin’ suitcase. When I take it from her hand, I realize it’s as heavy as one, too.
The gigantic man at the door parts the velvet ropes when he sees us approach. “Miss A! What’s up, pretty Kitty?”
When he lifts a tree trunk arm, Kat slides under it. “Good to see you, Bits! This is my friend, Chase.”
“Sup, man?” Bits chucks his chin and a toothless grin in my direction as the darkened theater absorbs Kat’s petite frame.
“Good to meet ya,” I reply, following her into the lobby.
