Chapter 9
PETAL
It’s all so embarrassing.
I feel like one of those kids who’s going to their first dance, where Mom and the date’s parents, as well as all the neighbors, are hovering, fussing, and snapping endless photos.
Who knew that at the age of twenty-seven, I’d be right back where I was when I was fifteen, suffering through braces, glitter eyeshadow, and an ugly dress my mother insisted was ‘on-trend.’
Ever since, I have not trusted the term ‘on trend.’
This is the hornet’s nest I am about to walk into.
The doorbell chimes and I rush downstairs before anyone else can answer.
Gilly and Lucy are squealing from the top of the stairs, and the click of Mom’s heels is getting closer.
In a rush to escape, I fly through the front door, pulling it closed as fast as I can, and keeping my hand on the knob so no one on the other side can pull it back open.
In the split second I do all this, I also careen into what feels like a big brick wall.
Rake’s chest.
My nose smashes into one of his buttons, which hurts like hell, and when I pull my face away, there’s a smudge of my lipstick on his shirt.
Oops.
He catches me by the shoulders. “Easy there. You okay?”
I’ve never been this close to him and when I look up, I’m surprised to see his eyelashes are as red as his hair, and that he has the slightest spray of freckles across the top of his forehead.
And he smells good. Manly and spicy. Nothing like a smelly jock.
I hold my hand on the doorknob to keep whoever’s trying to get out, in. That’s when I remember there’s a photographer here to document the ‘pick up,’ as Vince put it. I slap on my best smile, even while I’m being a little shit.
“Hello. I’m good. Everything’s great,” I exclaim, putting my weight into holding the door closed.
Rake peers around me to see what’s going on. “Hey, someone inside the house wants to get out.”
No shit.
“It’s my mother, but, um, well, the doctor says she needs to stay inside today. It’s a constant battle, you know?”
Yeah, he thinks I’m crazy.
He rubs the back of his neck. “All right then. Let’s hit the road.” He gestures toward a black Range Rover double parked in the narrow street.
Backing up traffic.
There’s no faster way to piss off people in San Francisco than making our already-shitty traffic worse.
“We better go before you get a ticket or something,” I say, finally releasing the doorknob and dashing down the front steps to the car.
While Vince’s photographer clicks away, the front door flies open behind us. With a backward glance, I see Mom’s irritation at being left out.
“See ya!” I call, waving.
I’m in the car, all buckled up before Rake even reaches the driver’s side.
I look straight ahead, praying he puts the car in gear and gets us out of here, pronto.
I don’t even need to look back at the house to know Lucy and Gilly are in the upstairs window, and that my mother is out front looking like she just sucked a lemon.
Rake puts the car in gear, but when he doesn’t move, I snap my gaze in his direction. He throws me a sympathetic smile, the most expression I’ve ever seen on his face, and nods toward my side window.
I turn and who’s standing there but the goddamn photographer, snapping at the two of us like we’re in a getaway car.
“It’s easier if you smile, Petal. Just throw one his way.”
I see Rake give the photographer a big, fake-ass grin. “Just a little one,” he says through gritted teeth.
Reluctantly, I crook up one side of my mouth and then the other, and tilt my head sweetly. If this gets the man off our backs, it’s worth it.
The photographer shoots us a thumbs up.
Thank God.
Rake starts driving. “Vince is obsessed with getting us to smile for the cameras he hired to chase after us. It’s the weirdest fucking thing.”
Guess I’m not the only one who thinks this shit is strange.
Rake takes a couple turns and in moments, we’re heading toward the 101 freeway.
“Where are we going? I thought we’d just have lunch or something.”
I was all ready to suggest Chinese. My favorite place is cheap and fast.
He nods while negotiating traffic. “We can do that. But I think I have a better idea.”
Oh God no. I don’t want fancy. I don’t want fun. I just want to get this over with. Easy and fast is the name of the game.
“Listen, Petal. I’m gonna be straight up with you,” he says, tapping his hand on the steering wheel. “I know you don’t want to be doing this with me, and no offense, but I feel the same way. I’d much rather be home with a beer in my hand, my feet kicked up on the coffee table, watching ESPN.”
I look at his giant hands, then his profile, which, I have to admit, is pretty fucking perfect. His square jaw is covered in a day’s stubble, there’s a slight but cute bump on his nose, and a shock of red hair is flopping over his right eye.
At least he’s nice to look at.
“I hear that,” I mumble, looking away before he catches me staring. I reach for the radio. “Mind if I put on some music?”
He presses the on button. “Go for it. Your pick.”
I connect my phone to the radio and pull up a Cardi B song. She’s not my favorite, but I want to test him, see how he deals with a badass woman.
He nods his head in time to the music. “Didn’t take you for a Cardi girl.”
He takes the exit for the San Francisco airport.
“Why not?” I ask. “And where are we going, anyway?”
“You seem kind of straight, you know? On the uptight side. No offense. Anyway, we’re going to the private jet terminal.”
I sit up straight in my seat, ready to defend myself. Why did I let Gilly talk me into carrying a real purse? My pepper spray is in my backpack.
“First off, I am not uptight,” I say in my best don’t fuck with me voice. The man needs to know what he’s up against. “And second, why are we going to the private jet terminal? I’m not flying anywhere. I have my bookstore job tomorrow.”
He throws me a look. “You work in a bookstore? Figures,” he snickers.
What. A. Dick.
“You know, Rake, some people like to read. And if you like to read, you often go to bookstores. But I guess you don’t know about things like that,” I huff. “How would you like it if I stuffed you into the dumb jock category, even though I barely know anything about you?”
He pulls into a parking spot at the private terminal and stops the car.
“People put me in that category every day. When you’re an athlete, they do that to you.
I’m used to it. But I let it roll right off my back.
If I worried about everything people said about me, I’d be fucked.
And by the way, I like to read too. So chill the hell out. ”
He gets out of the car and comes around to my door. I press the lock button.
I vaguely remember doing the same thing when I was about eight, when I was pissed off at my mom.
“What the hell?” he says loudly enough to be heard over a plane taking off.
He pulls the door handle a couple times, then presses the remote key.
But I am holding the lock button down and while the other doors unlock, mine doesn’t.
“Open the damn door. How am I supposed to tell you where we are going?”
I look at him through the window. “I can hear you just fine through the glass. I’m not going anywhere with you. Lunch is fine, but that’s the extent of our ‘date,’” I say with air quotes.
He rolls his neck on his shoulders like I’m causing him frustration.
“Fine. Look, Petal, you do not have to go anywhere with me if you don’t want.
I’m totally fine with that. But I have friends who just chartered a flight to Vegas for the night.
You should join us. It will be fun. We’ll have a nice dinner, gamble a little, and I’ll get you your own hotel room and anything you need. ”
Is he fucking kidding?
“I don’t even know you. Why would I leave town with you?”
He rubs his hands over his face and looks at the sky. “I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “I guess I thought you might like to, I don’t know, do something crazy. You know, just hop on a plane and leave town for a night. But it’s cool if you don’t want to go.”
I keep my focus straight ahead. I can’t keep looking at him. He’s too goddamn hot and I do not need to be tempted. Like I don’t have enough shit going on in my life, now I’m about to be kidnapped by a crazy athlete.
“Just take me home.”
“Okay. Let me run inside and let the other guys know you’re not coming.” He takes off across the parking lot in a slow jog, and I have to say, his ass is quite nice.
For some reason, I feel like crying. I don’t even know why. I just feel very… vulnerable. And he was so not clued into that.
I text Lucy.
for gods sake, we’re at the airport
WHAT? WTF? Is he a trafficker or something? do I need to call the cops?
I don’t think so. his friends arranged a private plane to Vegas for the night. I told him hell to the no
a private plane? to Vegas?
can you believe it? he must be crazy
A minute goes by…
aren’t you going to support me in this?
I don’t know…
WHY?
it sounds kind of fun. Will you ask him if I can go ?
you’re kidding. You’d actually consider it?
look, petal, loosen the hell up. Get out of town for a day. Vegas is not the end of the earth. It’s only an hour away and there will be tons of people around.
I don’t like how he just assumed I’d be on board
tell him that. And tell him you’ll go. Get your own room. You’ll be fine
Gilly says if you don’t go you’re a fucking idiot
you guys are not on my side
WE ARE
it feels… weird
then definitely do it. Bust out of your bad self. It will help you forget douchebag
And now I’m considering this craziness. Lucy has a point. I could go, have a few drinks, get my buzz on, play the slots, and come home in the morning. I just have to let Tina at Twisted Hearts know I won’t be in for my shift.
But that’s irresponsible. I am a reliable person.
And sometimes, boring as fuck.
Rake’s crossing the parking lot on his way back to the Range Rover.
okay. I’m gonna do it
I drop my phone into the purse Gilly loaned me, and slowly step out of the car. The wind swoops up the bottom of my skirt. Thank God I didn’t wear her thong panties.
“You okay?” Rake asks when he reaches me, his face crinkled up in confusion.
“No. I don’t think so. I’m not okay. That’s why I want to go. If the offer still stands.”
He studies me, nodding, a small smile springing onto his face. “Okay. Plane leaves in fifteen. Come meet my friends.”