Owned: An Alpha Anthology (8 page)

DEBONAIR: PART 1 BY JANI KAY

2 - Brooklyn

I had mixed feelings about New York. Part of me loved the relentless pace and never-ending stream of people milling around. I could smell the ambition in the air. It both excited and frightened the hell out of me.

"Rub his balls, Brooklyn." Cassidy laughed as she pointed the camera at me and clicked.  It was finally my turn to be photographed with the raging golden bull, the one New York icon I’d been dying to see and touch since I was a kid.

"My, what big nuts he has." I laughed as I placed my hand under his balls and enjoyed my fifteen seconds in the spotlight.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a man standing tall between the shorts and T-shirt brigade, holding up his phone and directing it at me. My gaze honed in on him.
Surely not?
Why would a stranger take a picture of me? Granted, it was tourist season, and a three-person deep crowd mobbed the statue, but he didn’t look like a tourist at all. In spite of the warm weather, he was dressed in a charcoal suit, which fitted his body as if it were tailored specially for him.

He was drop-dead gorgeous. Our eyes locked over the crowd and a few moments later, I found myself sucked into his green orbs. His heart-stopping grin warmed my insides to my toes and sent my heart beating madly. Heat rose to my cheeks as the seconds ticked by and neither of us broke contact. This was insane.
As if a magnet were pulling me toward him
. My mouth went dry and I swallowed hard. He raised an eyebrow and snapped another picture of me holding the bull’s balls.

What the hell?

"Look this way, honey," Cassidy called out.

Forcing myself, I tore my eyes away and stared into Cassidy’s camera instead. Was I simply imagining that he was ogling me with such interest?

"Work it, honey. Probably the only time you’ll get to feel up a bull," Cassidy teased as she snapped away. Laughing, I focused my attention back on the metal bull and the camera, only too aware that the crowd was getting restless, letting me know that my time was up and it was their turn to be photographed.

A little freaked out and unable to stop myself, I stole a peek back in his direction.

He was gone.

I narrowed my eyes and scanned the crowd, panic sweeping through me as I realized I might never see him again. I searched further away, desperately hoping to catch another glimpse of the man who’d managed to capture my imagination with his lopsided grin and intense gaze.

Yep, definitely an overactive imagination.
I’d been blessed with one of those. I put it down to only-child syndrome, always making up imaginary friends to chat with. Yet I couldn’t shake the connection I’d felt to the stranger, even if it only lasted for a minute.

Disappointment washed over me. Where had he disappeared to so quickly?

"Imagine, in three days you’ll be walking up Wall Street to start your new career. I’m so excited for you." Cassidy pulled my arm toward a hotdog stand. "Fuck, I’m hungry. The smell of food is torturing me."

I'd been starving since our meager breakfast of an apple each from the reception desk at our budget hotel while checking in, but for some reason, my appetite had disappeared. "Um . . . remember we were warned not to buy food off the streets? These carts have been out in the smog all day. It can’t be healthy—"

"Brooklyn Bennett, for once in your goddamn life, forget the fucking rules and enjoy yourself. All these people can’t be wrong." She gestured toward the long line in front of us. "Live on the wild side. Take a risk." She winked at me to soften her words.

What would have happened if I’d taken a risk and kept eye contact with that stranger? If I’s actually smiled back at him? Would he have moved closer and talked to me?

Don’t be fucking ridiculous. Why the hell would he do that?

Giving the cart a once-over and noticing that the server wore gloves, and that the produce was covered by plastic lids, I shrugged. "Okay, but only this once. I'm not getting damn food poisoning before starting my internship. I worked fucking hard to get here; I'm not blowing it on random pollution-drenched food."

"O.M.G. You’re anal sometimes. But I still love you," she said, holding up two fingers at the server. "We’ll have the works, thanks."

I shuddered as I noticed the man wipe the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Up close, things didn’t look as clean as they did from a distance, but it was too late to back out. I was going to have my first New York hotdog. We’d only been here for six hours and already I’d broken one of my cardinal rules to stay away from junk food bought off the side of the road.
Crap.

I bit into the hotdog. Damn, it was good. I closed my eyes and savored the moment. After years of studying hard and working my ass off to save for this opportunity of a lifetime, I was finally here. Gratitude and excitement bubbled up inside me. I was lucky, and I knew it.

"Shit, Cass . . . six months ago, this was all a distant dream." I wiped the sauce running down my chin with the extra napkin I’d taken from the cart.

"For you, maybe. I always knew you’d get the internship. Nobody studied or worked harder than you, babe. You so deserve it." Cassidy was licking her fingers, one by one. "Jeez, that’s officially the best hotdog I’ve had in my life. I could do another one."

I grinned at her. "Better make that last till later tonight. We’re on a tight budget, remember? Until we get our first paychecks, we’re kinda screwed."

"Yeah. Don’t remind me. Why did I choose this option again?" A frown marred her pretty face.

I wrinkled my nose at her. "Because you’re a stubborn bitch, that’s why. Needing to prove to the world that you don’t need your daddy’s money. Let me tell you, it's not much fun being broke."

"Gah, I'm learning that by the hour. Making me take the subway instead of a taxi from the airport? Booking into a two-star dive of a hotel? Why the hell didn’t I accept the credit card Daddy offered at the airport?" she grumbled.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Cass, stop whining. Didn’t you decide you were old enough to stand on your own two feet and prove to the world that you can make it by yourself? Maybe you should be rubbing the bull’s balls . . . just saying." I chuckled. We were forty-eight hours into our adventure. How was she going to last six months?

My best friend had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her family owned property and businesses back home in Australia that ensured they were in the super-wealthy bracket, giving Cassidy an out that didn’t exist for me. She could call her parents in Sydney asking for money any time she’d had enough. I, on the other hand, had no option other than to make this work. I had my back to the wall . . . quitting was not on the agenda.

"I don’t know how you’ve done it all these years. I mean, no disrespect to you or your mum, but how the hell did you survive?" She was staring at me with large round eyes, a glimmer of understanding dawning.

I grimaced. Living hand-to-mouth as a single parent had taken its toll on my mother’s health. I’d learned from an early age to make the best of what we had, and to be grateful for small mercies. It was a lesson that was staring Cassidy Goodwin in the face.

"We get by . . . we always have. Mum is an amazing woman. My only worry with being here is leaving her while I chase my dream." My throat tightened at the thought of her alone back at our small apartment. Fortunately our neighbor, Mr. Lancaster, was sweet on Mum, and promised to help her out if necessary.

"You’re lucky, having your mum for support. Mine thinks if she throws money at problems they’ll go away. I wish I were as close to my mother as you are to yours. It's priceless . . . something money can't buy." Her wistful expression brought tears to my eyes. I blinked a few times, determined not to get all blubbery. We’d never had much in the way of money, but with the amount of love I received, I never felt deprived. I honestly believed that Cassidy would trade places with me in a heartbeat to have her mother care a fraction as much about her as mine did for me.

I squeezed her hand and changed the subject. "Honey, it's getting late. We better start looking for an apartment, if we want to be settled in before I start my new job. We’ll have plenty of weekends to do all the touristy things in the next six months."

"You’re right, as always, Miss Practical. Remember, you promised I could have the pick of which bedroom I wanted."

I nodded. Which bedroom was mine was the very least of my problems.

DEBONAIR: PART 1 BY JANI KAY

3 - Brooklyn

Drinking in the sights of the city, we landed in Times Square as night fell. It was our third day in New York, and already the city that never slept mesmerized is with its frenetic pace.

We’d spent most of the day looking at furnished places for rent, catching subways and walking till we had blisters on our feet. Finally we’d found an apartment that looked reasonable. It wasn’t crawling with cockroaches or falling apart, and hopefully neither the rent nor the neighbors would strangle us.

Far from being able to afford two bedrooms, we had settled on a one-bedroom apartment with twin beds and a tiny kitchen. At least the living room was reasonably spacious, as we’d probably spend most of our time hanging out in there. At first Cassidy had refused to share a bedroom, but after viewing five two-bedroomed apartments we couldn’t afford, I'd convinced her that it would be fun to share a bedroom where we could chat before falling asleep.

We’d collected our baggage from the hotel storage room and moved straight in to what would be our new home for half a year. After unpacking our few belongings, and since we had no food yet, we decided to soak up the city’s atmosphere and get a bite to eat.

Gawking open-mouthed at the huge flashing billboards that probably used the equivalent of an entire month’s worth of electricity for our apartment in mere hours, we found a place to sit where we could devour our dinner. I’d seen many pictures of this famous spot, but nothing compared to the buzz and cosmopolitan feel of actually being there.

"I can’t believe how small and expensive apartments are around here. Luckily I saved my birthday money for the deposit, or we’d be screwed," Cass said as she dug into her slice of pizza.

"We have our own small kitchen, and it’s close to a Laundromat, so we’re going to be fine." My optimism was dwindling fast, but I couldn’t let her see my alarm. The poor girl had already had so many culture shocks that I didn’t have the heart to discourage her further.

"Yay. Lucky us!"

I grinned as I took a bite of my pizza. "By the way, I didn’t know you could flirt like that."

"Oh, darling," she said in her most affected voice, putting on airs and graces, "it pays to come from money, and I’ve studied my dearest mother doing it all her life. Flirting always works for her, so I thought I’d give it a try."

"Damn smart." I chuckled. "And you even managed to get us a discounted rate. I’m proud of you, chick. Keep polishing those skills; something tells me we’re going to need it a lot."

Cassidy had studied architecture and we’d met during shared classes at the University of Sydney. Although Cass and I were worlds apart, we’d bonded because we were part of only a handful of females in a class dominated by men. And we’d instantly clicked, in spite of our differences. It was a blessing, because we complemented one another’s strengths and weaknesses. Together we made a kickass team. We had one another’s backs, and to me that was a big deal.

She threw back her head and laughed. "No, silly, it's because the rental agent thought our Australian accents were cute that he decided to let us have the place."

"You reckon? I guess that played a small part. But mostly I think Mr. Garcia was smitten by you—"

"What I want is a real man, honey. One with deep pockets and an Ivy League education, who can keep me in the way I am accustomed to. Oh, and small dicks need not apply." Cassidy was a sex freak and a self declared nymphomaniac. Frankly, I wasn’t sure how we were going to live together in a confined space once she started bringing guys home.

As for me? I had no interest in sex or men. I was building my career so that I could earn a decent salary to take care of my mother. She had sacrificed a lot during the years to give me the best she could, and it was payback time. Since Mum had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis a few months ago, it became imperative that I take care of her. I simply didn’t have time for romance, or anything else that might sidetrack me. I owed her that.

I cleared my throat. "Um, I was meaning to ask . . . Is it okay if I borrow your pretty white shirt? I can team it with my pencil skirt and pumps so that I’m presentable for my first day tomorrow." My cheeks burned as I waited for her reply. We’d never worn one another’s clothes because, well . . . mine were from cheap department stores, and hers from designer boutiques. On top of that she was tall and lean, and I was short and shapely, so I’d never be able to wear her pants or skirts anyway. Boob-wise we were equally well endowed, so I was sure her shirt would fit me.

"Of course you can, honey. Hang it in the bathroom so that the steam can get rid of the creases."

I let out a long breath. "Thanks, Cass. You’re a lifesaver."

She winked at me. "Keep your praise for when I really save your life by getting you laid . . . by a real man."

I laughed, shaking my head vigorously. "Not going to happen. Definitely not in the next six months."

Unless. 

Unless I bumped into
him
. That stranger. I couldn’t get him out of my head. It was bizarre, but every time I closed my eyes, there he was, smiling, those green eyes boring into mine. I pressed my knees together to stop the dull ache in my core.

Luckily there was no chance in hell of that happening, so I was safe. And my rules were simple. No men. No sex. No relationships.

Easy.