Chapter 15
London
"What do you mean you two kissed?" Grace says louder than I'd prefer her to. "Give me every juicy detail."
"A girl doesn't kiss and tell." I play coy and sip my latte, returning it to the table in the coffee shop and pretending like I'm not going to tell her everything.
It's been two days since that wild evening with Archer's family, and my lips have never felt lonelier. It would be cliché to say it was the best kiss of my entire life, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't.
I can't stand Archer, but something about it makes me want him more. How can something so wrong feel so right?
"You just told me you kissed!" Grace shoves me playfully. "Now, spill."
"I confronted him about the conversation between him and Ivy."
Grace gasps. "You didn't?"
I nod. "Yep. Well, kind of. I mean, I made it clear I knew. Brought up all the highlights."
"Shit, London, I'm sorry." She winces and fidgets with her coffee. "Then what happened?"
"We were standing there in his bedroom; he had just gotten out of the shower.
He still had little water droplets all over him, and he came strutting in with only a towel barely wrapped around his waist." I get lost in the mental image for an embarrassing second.
"Anyway, we started arguing, each one of us somehow getting closer to the other with every single jab, and the next thing I know, Archer's got his tongue down my throat and we're making out. "
Grace's hazel eyes go wide. "Oh. My. God. That's so hot. He was practically naked."
"I mean, he was for a minute."
She shakes her head and holds her hand out. "Excuse me, what?"
"Right, yeah, I forgot that part. He went to his dresser to get clothes and dropped his towel right in front of me."
"Did you see it?"
"No. But he has a nice ass." I take another drink of my coffee and hide my smile from watching Grace lose her mind. "He changed into boxers, then we fought. Yeah, that's the order. But get this, afterward he put on gray sweatpants."
"No," is all Grace says.
"Yep. Like, come on, man, you're already a six-foot-something tattooed, chiseled god, you don't need the sweatpants, too."
Grace chuckles and leans back. "Wow. And I mean, wow." But then she bends at the hip and moves closer. "What does this mean? Are you two going to become something? Hook up? Date? Get married and live happily ever after?"
"Immediately no," I say the same words that she said to Seven when he tried hitting on her.
"Archer and I couldn't be further from alike.
I'm not kidding when I say I can't stand him.
He's hot, there's no denying that, but he's an asshole.
Plus, I'm still not over him saying all that shit about me.
He didn't even apologize." And now that I think about it, he confirmed the comments when we were fighting.
Grace smiles politely at an older man who walks by and returns her attention to me. "Yeah, that was kind of fucked up. Maybe he was heated from his fight with Seven." She shrugs. "Maybe give him the benefit of the doubt."
"No, absolutely no way. Plus, we both agreed it was a mistake. That can't happen ever again. I don't want to complicate things anyway."
"I guess that makes sense."
"What about you, though? Are you going to entertain Seven?"
Grace laughs abruptly. "Immediately no." She reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone, poking a few buttons and showing me the screen. "Look at this."
It's a text thread with Seven, except he's the only one talking.
Seven: Did you hit me with a chair?
Seven: That was fucked up.
Seven: It really hurt.
Seven: You could kiss it better.
Seven: Do you want to fuck about it?
Seven: I'll let you hit me with a chair again…
Seven: If that's what you're into.
I scroll to the bottom. "Wow, he's down bad."
"He's going to have to get over it." Grace drops her phone into her bag. "He's vile."
"He's kind of hot, though," I admit. "In a psychotic way."
"He's not terrible-looking, but you think you and Archer are opposites?" Grace motions to her body. "Miss Prim and Proper, a senator's daughter who spends her time planning charity events, and him, doing God only knows. He's the textbook definition of trouble."
"Could be fun," I say over the top of my mug. "You could use a little danger in your life."
"No. I refuse to deal with another shitty man."
"I respect that," I tell her and recall the events of that night.
Seven was a drunken idiot making passes at Grace every chance he got.
Archer was tense and withdrawn, typical.
Ivy was guarded but curious, her every response toying with the truth she was willing to give.
August was polished and put together and it felt like he didn't want to be there, something that seemed to bother Ivy even though she tried to not show it. But Leo…
"Leo was kind of cute," Grace says at the same time I'm thinking about him.
"He was, wasn't he?" It just wasn't as glaringly obvious as the rest of the guys.
Leo was calmer, more even-tempered, and a bit unbothered by everything going on.
He was wearing designer clothes from head to toe, his appearance well-thought-out and put together, but not like August was.
August had a dapper vibe about him, and Leo was giving a more casual, sophisticated look.
"I didn't notice it until now." Grace taps her finger to her mouth. "Maybe Leo is the brother we should be after."
I put my hands up. "Not it." I'm familiar with the inner workings of a dysfunctional family but I'd prefer not to get involved with another one. "You know Seven will murder him, right?"
"Could you ask Archer for his number for me?
Actually…" Grace gets her phone again, furiously typing away and leaving me hanging.
She smiles triumphantly and pokes one final button before signaling to me to be quiet and putting the phone to her ear.
"Hey," she says into the receiver. “It's Grace, we met Sunday night at Archer's place.
I'd love to get together for coffee. When are you available? "
She stops talking, and I watch her assertiveness take hold.
"Great, yeah, that time tomorrow works for me. I can meet you there." Grace hangs up and sets her phone down. "And that's how it's done."
My eyes widen. "Did you really find and ask out Leo that quickly?"
"Like it was hard." Grace shrugs and grins, her bubbly personality almost contagious if not for everything that’s happened to me.
I used to be like her, despite everything that I've lived through, but I find it particularly hard to pretend lately. The worst should be behind me, and somehow it feels like my father still has his claws stuck in me.
"No, but really, how did you find his number?" I ask her, wanting to learn her sleuthing ways.
"Leo owns Sin Casino. It only took a little digging to cross-reference documents and find his personal number. Easy-peasy."
"Casino owner…huh. I don't know what I expected but it wasn't that."
"Right?" Grace downs the last of her coffee and checks her watch. "Listen, I should get going. Unless there are any other juicy details you left out."
"Not that I can think of." I stand and drink the rest of my latte, too. "But you need to update me on this Leo situation."
"Excuse me," a voice interrupts.
I scan until I lock eyes with a man, his face familiar but I can't quite place him. My chest tightens. No one should be familiar. Not here. Not yet. Does he know who I am? Did I get so complacent that I forgot I'm supposed to be hiding out and starting over?
"Sorry," he says. "We never really officially met. The other night, in front of the apartment complex. I'm Drew." He extends his hand.
"Drew, hey." I shake his hand and it's not until I fully lock my eyes on him that I place him as the guy who let me into Archer's building over a week ago when I showed up that night.
"Yeah, I remember you." My body takes a long moment to relax.
The threat I thought was staring me in the face is actually a nice guy.
Grace reaches out to him. "Grace McCallister."
He shakes her hand, too. "Drew Kingsley, pleasure is all mine." Drew focuses on me again. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name."
"London," I offer, almost following it up with Gardella. But London Gardella died in California when her father was set on killing her for helping her friend. "London Smith."
"Beautiful name," he says, a polite smile on his handsome face. "I know this is probably too forward, but would you want to go out sometime? Get dinner with me? My treat, obviously."
My first reaction is to tell him no, to turn him down and walk out of here with my head held high. That's what the old London would have done. The old London was picky, and never dated—her dad wouldn't allow it.
We have to keep you pure, London girl.
No one will pay me top dollar for a whore.
You're worthless if not for what you can give with your body.
I'll kill any man that even looks at you.
And he held his word to that promise, my heart aching at the bloody memory I can't escape no matter how hard I try to push it aside.
"Yes," I find myself say. "Are you available Thursday?"
Drew nods, a hair too enthusiastically. "Of course, yes. I'll let the firm know not to schedule any late meetings. Have you been to Rao's?"
"I haven't," I tell him.
Grace chimes in. "You have a table at Rao's?"
"What's so special about Rao's?" I ask them.
"Only people with VIP access can get in. It's passed down from generation to generation. Getting a table is impossible unless you know someone with one. Plus, I mean, it's on the river."
"What do you say?" Drew ignores Grace and doesn't take his eyes off me. "Dinner at Rao's Thursday?"
"Sure, sounds great."
"Don't sound so enthused, London," Grace teases.