Dirty Savage Player (House of Cards #2)

Chapter 1 – pippa

PIPPA

It’s probably pathetic that almost everything I own fits into two suitcases. But considering that I’m being kicked out of my apartment, effective immediately, it’s also pretty damn convenient.

The Uber driver puts the suitcase with my clothes in the trunk easily enough. When he lifts the second one, he grunts.

“What the hell do you have in here, lady? Bricks?”

“Books.” And only the ones I’ve accumulated over the past six months. I’ve got way more packed in the basement at Mom’s house. What can I say? I have a problem.

He glares at me, resentment in his eyes as I shuffle the big, blanket-draped box in my arms and shiver against a lashing of frigid winter wind.

“Want me to put that in the trunk, too?”

“Er, no. I got it,” I say quickly, sliding into the back seat where I’m immediately smothered in a cloud of patchouli-scented air freshener. At least it’s warm.

A small meow escapes the box while the driver slams the trunk.

“Shhhh,” I whisper. “Not until he drops us off.”

I’ve already been kicked out of my apartment. I don’t need to be kicked out of a car, too.

I should have known that not signing an official lease would bite me in the ass, but when my now ex-landlord offered me a furnished apartment that fit my budget on a content writer’s salary, I accepted a handshake agreement.

It’s almost impossible to find a good apartment in Toronto right now, so I was willing to do almost anything to make it work.

Except give up the love of my life.

The minute I saw the tiny black cat curled up on my doormat, I knew we were meant for each other.

She was just so small and helpless. The cat distribution system finally chose me, and who am I to spit in the face of destiny?

After whisking her away to the vet for a checkup and a microchip check, I named her after my favorite breakfast food and smuggled her into my apartment to live happily ever after.

Until Monday, when my landlord figured out that the reason his new girlfriend kept sneezing in the laundry room was living in my apartment. Apparently, she has terrible cat allergies. He told me that either the cat goes, or I do.

I chose the cat. So now, Waffle and I are en route to a new temporary home.

I thought about asking my best friend, Cat, if I could stay with her.

She and her boyfriend Nate definitely have room in their apartment.

But I quickly nixed the idea. Being a third wheel for the occasional night out is one thing.

Living as a third wheel twenty-four seven with the most in-love couple I’ve ever seen is more than I can handle.

My parents are a no-go, too. They’re both out in Oakville, which is an hour’s drive away from the city and my job, assuming traffic’s half decent. Plus, I don’t have a car, and I definitely can’t afford cab rides back and forth every day.

I’ve got friends who would be happy to take me for a night or two, but there’s no way I’ll find a new apartment that quickly. I need a home base that’ll last me for at least a few weeks. Cats get stressed out by new environments, and a daily move would be more than Waffle could handle.

So I’m left rooming with the last person on earth I’d choose to share oxygen with.

My evil stepbrother, Ryan Archer.

I tell myself this is temporary. A stopgap. A cute little detour on the way to the life I’m actually meant to have, but the truth hits hard: if this goes wrong, I don’t have a backup plan. No safety net. No spare key under a different mat.

God, I better be able to find a new place soon.

Meow.

Waffle meows pathetically inside her carrier, and the driver peers at me in the rearview mirror.

“Is that a cat?” he asks.

Shit. If this guy’s allergic too, I don’t want to be stuck out in the cold while I wait for another car. I have a nice warm coat, but my poor kitty will be freezing.

“Just my ringtone,” I say, hoping he’ll buy it.

I really pull out my phone to make sure I didn’t miss any texts from Ryan.

Ever since I texted him to let him know I was coming, he’s been giving me shit.

He would head out to catch a movie with his buddies and leave me sitting in the lobby with all my possessions, waiting until he deigns to come back and let me in.

Ryan

Hope you’ve got your thank you note ready for me. Handwritten required, calligraphy preferred.

I roll my eyes. When I called my Mom to let her know about my eviction, she immediately suggested I stay with Ryan.

For some reason, she’s not convinced that he’s the spawn of Satan.

As much as I hated the idea, it did make sense.

Ryan’s apartment is a short metro ride to my office, and it’s in a prime central location.

It’s the easiest place for my apartment search.

Suddenly, the car screeches to a halt at an intersection, sending me lurching forward against the seatbelt. I cling to Waffle’s cage, but that doesn’t stop her from meowing her displeasure with the abrupt stop.

The driver whips his head around, scowling.

“You said that wasn’t a cat!” he snarls. “I’m allergic!”

I fight the urge to scoff. He can’t be that allergic—he hasn’t so much as sniffed for the entire car ride.

“Sorry,” I squeak. “There weren’t any pet-friendly Ubers in the area, and I couldn’t carry all this on the train.”

“Get out! Now.”

“Come on, please?” I beg. “Can’t you just take us the rest of the way? It’s only a few more minutes!”

“No cats!” he snaps, putting the car in park. “Get out. Now.”

He opens the door and stalks from the driver’s seat to the trunk. Then, he practically hurls my suitcases onto the street. I hustle out of the backseat to get them before someone runs them over while Waffle meows loudly in indignation.

I’ve barely gotten my feet under me when he screeches away, leaving me and all my stuff out in the cold.

“Merry Christmas to you too, asshole!” I yell after him. Waffle whimpers from her carrier, scared by my screams, and I coo gently at her. “Don’t you worry about that mean, mean man. He’s just mad because his car smells like an old hippie and he has a butt for a chin.”

Just then, a snowflake lands on my nose. It’s quickly followed by thousands of its pals. The sidewalk starts to sparkle, and it’s clear the snow is going to stick.

Great. Just great. Not only do I have to drag my stuff to Ryan’s building, but I have to hurry to get there before I’m dragging my suitcases through the snow.

It takes a few minutes for me to find a way to hold Waffle’s carrier in one hand and roll both suitcases with the other.

I set my jaw determinedly as I stalk the last ten blocks of the journey.

The sidewalk is slippery, but I stomp with every step, using my stiletto heels like ice picks to jam into the growing snow piles for stability.

And Cat claims these shoes aren’t practical.

Finally, the House of Cards comes into sight. I hate that I’ve given in to using that nickname, but it’s easier than saying “the place where all the guys live.” And I’ve never been happier to see it than I am right now.

The snow swirls around me, sticking to my hair and eyelashes. I can feel my suitcases wobbling. One wheel looks to give out. It’s just a cheap carry-on, designed to carry bikinis for a weekend getaway to Miami, not fifty pounds of books.

“Come on, suitcase,” I mutter. “One more block. You got this.”

Finally, the revolving doors are right ahead of me.

I shoulder my way through them, shoving into the marble atrium.

I breathe a sigh of relief into the warm indoor air, right as my shoe skids on the floor, making me lose my balance.

The only way to keep both me and Waffle upright is for me to drop the suitcase handles. They thud awkwardly on the floor.

“Pippa? What’re you doing here?”

I look up to see my best friend, Cat Daniels, standing by the private elevator. Her wild blonde curls are all over the place, as usual. I’m so happy to see her, I could kiss her. Finally, a friendly face—and someone who won’t kick me and my pet cat out in the cold.

Nate looms over Cat’s shoulder like an Armani-clad bodyguard, and I shoot him a stilted smile.

Over the past few months, I’ve gotten used to having him around.

That doesn’t make me Nate’s biggest fan.

I love that he treats Cat like the princess she is, and he’s definitely generous, but I don’t find his constant grumpiness quite as endearing as Cat does.

Cat picks up one of my suitcases, and hands it off to Nate.

“I got kicked out of my apartment,” I explain. “I knew not having a formal renters agreement was going to bite me in the ass.”

Cat’s eyes widen. “Oh no. Did they find Waffle?”

“What’s Waffle?” Nate asks.

Waffle meows in response, and I pull the blanket off her carrier so Nate can see her.

“This is Waffle. I wasn’t technically allowed to have pets, but she doesn’t go outside! I never thought they’d actually enforce it. Turns out, my landlord’s new girlfriend is allergic. When he figured out why she kept sneezing in the laundry room, the asshole evicted us.”

“Oh god, that’s awful!” Cat says. “And right before Christmas? What an asshole.”

“I’m sorry,” Nate says.

I shrug. “It’s fine. I would stay with my parents, but they’re in the middle of selling their place. They told me I have to stay with Ryan until I find a new rental that will let Waffle live there.”

Cat gasps. “You and Ryan will kill each other. You have to stay with us. We have like three guest rooms!”

Nate’s face goes white. Obviously, he’d let me stay with them. Hell, he’d lie down on the ground and let Cat stomp all over him if she asked him to. But he obviously doesn’t want a new roommate. I don’t even blame him.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I have no desire to listen to you two boning all hours of the day and night while I remain single as a Pringle. Not that I don’t loooove being the third wheel on all your romantic dinners already.”

The elevator arrives, and the three of us awkwardly maneuver in with all my stuff.