Rayne (Wicked Temptation Key Party)

2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Two days to go…

Alcohol makes everything seem sparkly and fun. Well, to be fair, Margot also has that talent. One drunken night over cocktails and she had successfully persuaded me to submit an application to a charity event. Through the laughter and vodka, I never stopped to consider the consequences. Like… What if I do get selected?

See the problem is this was not your regular charity event donned with ball gowns and tuxedos. No… this was something more spectacular.

The event?

A key party.

One night of fun all in the name of charity. Elite, high-end men pay for the privilege of drawing a woman out of the bag—theirs for the night.

My best friend, Margot, had convinced me to apply with her. It sounded fun… something I would never normally do. I applied, having convinced myself I wouldn't be selected during the process. If anything, I figured Margot would be the lucky one. So, to support her, I did it too.

Alcohol certainly has a way of making inhibitions come to life.

I'm nothing special. Just your normal, boring paralegal with too many house plants. Never in my wildest dreams did I think someone would be interested in me .

But here we are. I had received the invitation letting me know I was successful in my application, chosen from a pool of women who were all keen to join the fun.

Now, it's two days to go until the infamous Wicked Temptation Party. And the closer we get to the event, the more I lose focus.

"Rayne. Do you have those briefs ready yet?"

Nick's voice rips me from my thoughts, his boyish face peering at me through the door. I hadn't even noticed him standing there, my mind too preoccupied as I battle the nausea of my impending plans on Saturday night.

I should have stuck to the normal plans for Dope Day—not that I've ever done that either. But Margot talked me into applying for this party instead. It's been ages since I've had sex—which is probably why I'm so nervous about the whole ordeal.

"Uh," I quickly grab some paperwork on my desk. "I should have it ready after lunch."

Nick's jawline hardens as he gives a small nod. "I also need you to sit in on the deposition tomorrow. I need you to take notes and hold the client's hand."

"Sure," I say politely, clicking my computer mouse to bring up my calendar. "It's at eleven, right?"

"Yes, in conference room B."

I hastily make an entry in my calendar so I don't forget, turning back to the paperwork sprawled out on my desk. "I'll have the brief to you shortly."

Nick crosses his arms, leaning against the frame of the frosted glass that hides me from the rest of the office. "Are you okay? You've been very distracted this week."

Swallowing, I smile to the best of my ability. "Yes, sorry. Just been a busy week."

He doesn't seem pleased with my answer, but he also doesn't give enough fucks to pry any further. It's a silent warning, telling me to pick my game up. That's the problem with junior associate —even though I'm technically more experienced than him in the legal world, his degree begs to differ and he likes to remind us all of that small fact.

"Bring the brief when you have it," he grumbles, turning on his heel and stalking back to his own office.

I let out a breath when he leaves, putting my head on my desk.

I'm going to kill Margot for this.

In two days, I'm going to be entering a sex club, spending the night with rich mystery men, waiting to see who pulls out my key.

But it's for a good cause… I remind myself.

While the party itself is out there, half of the proceeds go to the local foster care charity. I'm pretty familiar with the foster system, my parents being foster parents since before I could walk.

I'm the sole biological child for Mom and Dad, but beside them both wanting more children, it wasn't on the cards. So, they dedicated their time to fostering children who needed a home. Most children were just passing by while in transit to other homes, but when I was a teenager, I was blessed to have some permanent foster siblings.

Unfortunately, despite my parents best intentions, sometimes things just don't work out like they should.

I dive into the paperwork, quickly finishing the brief before Nick comes back to rip my asshole with his giant ego. I manage to get it done within the time estimate and hand it to him, without receiving so much as a thank you.

The end of the day rolls around and I pack up, grabbing my bag as I head to meet up with Margot. Thirsty Thursday is a ritual for us now and I easily spot her at the restaurant, sitting in our usual booth.

"There you are," she beams, pushing a margarita towards me. "I was beginning to think you had gotten lost."

"Not likely," I laugh, reaching for the drink appreciatively. "Lots of deadlines today."

Margot sips her drink, her blue eyes scanning my face. We've been best friends since elementary school and she knows me better than I know myself.

"If you puke all over the table, I'll be taking photos," she teases, flicking her blonde hair behind her back.

I shake my head, throwing her a scolding look. "This is all your fault."

She laughs, shrugging. "I think getting out of your comfort zone will do you good. You're so uptight lately."

"Easy for you to say," I point out. "You didn't get selected."

Margot pouts, disappointed. "Don't remind me. I'm jealous. You get to be pleasured and spoiled by rich, hot men."

"Rich, yes. But how do we know they are hot?" I grumble. "What if I get picked by an eighty year old man?"

"Experience," she says nonchalantly. "You just have to look on the bright side of things."

I laugh, leaning back into the booth as the waiter comes over to take our order. "You always find the silver lining."

"No pun intended," she mumbles under her breath, ordering some onion rings.

I ignore her comment, a smile tugging on my lips. "I'll grab a bowl of fries with ranch. And another round of drinks, please."

When he's gone, I slouch, swirling my straw around the drink. "I guess it will be good to do something out of the ordinary."

"That's the spirit," Margot grins. "It's just one night. You can be whoever you want. Plus it's for a good cause."

I nod. "I told my parents," I pause, looking at her surprised and equally horrified look. "Not about that part — just the charity portion."

"Your parents would have a fit," she murmurs. "I wouldn't put it past your father to go guns blazing into the club."

"Oh, absolutely," I agree. "But we changed our Saturday dinner to tomorrow night instead. I had to tell them I couldn't make it because of a charity event."

Margot snorts. "I can imagine the panic you felt trying to explain it."

"I can handle legal pressure well. Trying to explain this… not so much."

"Well, I think you'll have a great time. I want to hear all about it. Who knows, maybe next year I'll be selected if they host it again."

Nodding, I quickly finish my drink as I spot the next round approaching. "Definitely. They would be lucky to have you. Except I fear for the man who picks you — they'd have to do a welfare check. I still remember the time you had sex with that guy on the building rooftop and you got locked out in just your underwear."

"Good memories," she reminisces fondly.

"Wilson, Cox and Hawthorne. This is Rayne speaking."

The person on the other line mumbles something about a cheating spouse, cursing multiple times while I jot down some details on a notepad. That's the flip side to working in family law, I get to hear all the juicy gossip. It's sad too, especially when children are involved, but I like to think I'm making a difference.

"I can organize an appointment for you to speak to one of our attorneys," I say, checking the calendars. "How does next Wednesday sound?"

More curse words not directed at me, but I finally manage to lock in a time for the person to speak to Nick. He'll be thrilled — he lives and eats this shit.

After work, I make my way to my parents' house, keeping my face neutral at all times while I avoid discussing my plans for the next day.

My parents are both retired now. My father was an attorney while my mother was a teacher. They somehow managed to save while fostering children and both retired early. Spending their time traveling, we catch up for dinner once a week when they aren't abroad or visiting our family on the other side of the country.

"So, tell us about this charity event," Mom asks warmly, her red hair very similar to mine.

I tense up, poking my broccoli with my fork. "It's a fundraiser," I tell them broadly. "At a high end… organization."

"I'm really happy organizations are still doing charity work for foster care," Dad interjects. "They need more support."

I nod in agreement. "Definitely. So, off to Florida next week," I say, changing the subject.

"It's meant to be stifling weather," Mom laughs. "Much warmer than here."

"I find that hard to believe," I smile.

Phoenix, Arizona is a warm place, that's for sure. Lately, the weather has been hot, hitting 86 degrees during the day. I've done my best to hide away from the sun. Being a redhead, the sun can be unforgiving to my pale skin, but I have to admit, it's better than cold weather.

"I wish you would come with us," Dad says. "You work too much."

Rolling my eyes, I give him a playful scolding look. "And who did I inherit that trait from?"

He feigns looking shocked, but we all know I work just as much as he did. If anyone understands how treacherous legal work is, it's Dad. Vacation time is rare and the hours can be long. But secretly I love it and wouldn't change my career for anything.

"Maybe next time," Mom answers. "We should go to Disney World when things settle."

"That sounds fun," I smile.

Dad nods, his brown hair slicked back. He always looks kept together, even just for dinner. His hazel eyes scan my face, a small frown appearing. "Are you sure you are okay? You seem a little off today."

"I'm fine," I assure him. "Just tired."

They don't push it, accepting my answer. I spot Mom staring at the photos on the fireplace mantle, her face deep in thought.

"Maybe we can plan a family vacation towards the end of the year. We could see if your brothers want to come."

I snort, not even bothering to hide my disdain. "They won't."

Mom's lips purse together. "They might. You never know."

Carefully, I place down my fork and fold my hands together, like I'm about to give bad news to a client who isn't ready to accept the truth.

"Mom," I start. "You know they won't. I don't think they are coming back. They are too busy with their own lives now."

An awkward silence falls over the dinner table and I feel guilty, but sadly, it's the truth.

Of all the children who passed through these doors, a loving family ready with open arms, only two were able to stay. And you'd think that every child just wants a safe and loving home… but not them.

For years, my foster brothers made my life a living hell. I never voiced it to my parents because I didn't want to take away from the fact they do amazing things. They are the most selfless people I know, and that deserves to be acknowledged. But living with Hawk and Jett was rougher than sandpaper.

I was thirteen when they first landed on my doorstep with a social worker. Hawk, the older of the two, was a year older than me while his younger brother, Jett was my age. I was so excited to have company, but they quickly proved themselves to be psychopaths. To my parents, they were sweet angels—their charm fooling everyone. But I saw them for who they really were.

They tormented me, stole my belongings, played pranks… even locked me out of the house during a storm. I'd stay up all night finishing papers just to have Hawk delete them.

But that was just their daily routine. All of that sounds tame compared to other tricks they had up their sleeves for special occasions.

I've never been fond of the dark, but one night we were home alone on Halloween. There was a blackout, and they chased me through the house dressed as Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees—weapons and all.

I hated them.

But despite my feelings, my parents loved them. And I loved that my parents felt completed so I stayed quiet. Even though they were assholes, they loved and cherished my parents too.

Everything changed when Jett turned eighteen. We received some paperwork once the boys became adults, letting them know that their biological grandparents had left them an inheritance. And suddenly, they were gone.

An odd Christmas card here and there, and the occasional family dinner… but they vanished into thin air for the most part.

As far as I know, their grandparents had owned a company overseas which had been left to the boys once they reached adulthood. Their parents were junkies who abandoned them so since the boys were in foster care and not at risk of the money being used inappropriately, their grandparents left them everything.

Then they were gone.

Mom and Dad were understanding, happy to see their children succeed, but to me, it was a blow. They turned their backs on our parents the moment they didn't need them anymore. That's not family… that's using people and throwing them aside when it's no longer convenient.

Maybe I'm just bitter… or maybe I hold a grudge about Halloween. Either way, I hated that my parents still held on to the hope that we'd be a perfect little family again.

"They are busy with their company," Dad argues. "They said it's doing well."

I bite my tongue, not wanting to upset my parents and their illusion of our little family.

"Maybe they will be open to a family vacation," I say gingerly, not believing a word. "You'll have to ask them when they reach out again."

We fall back into silence and I scold myself for being negative. It probably would have been less awkward to tell them about my plans for tomorrow night.

It's hard to tell what's the lesser of two evils sometimes.