Slut (6 page)

The next thing I knew, Karlie was nudging me awake in the creepiest way imaginable. She was about two inches from my face, faux whispering, “Bex. Bex.
Rebecca
.”

“What?” I grumbled and reached for what was left of my whiskey sour. Nothing like the hair of the dog that bit you first thing in the morning.

“Get. UP.”

“Fine. I’m up.”

“The boat has been docked for an hour. There’s vomit on the carpet in billiards room, I don’t actually know what’s on the wall in the French room, and—”

“I’m pretty sure your father isn’t expecting his deposit back.” I sat up and rubbed my eyes, feeling exposed and out of sorts. Gavin was gone. Not that I’d expected him to stay, but I thought he’d tell me he was leaving.

I fumbled around for my shoes and I saw that stupid lavender rose, wilted and withered on the floor where Thornton had dropped it.

I threw my shoe at it.

“Bex?”

I saw the question on her face. “It’s nothing.” If it was nothing, I wouldn’t have thrown my stupid shoe at it. I crawled over to where I’d thrown in and shoved it on my foot.

Which brought Karlie’s attention to the flower. She picked it up. “This was in your hair last night. I’m always sorry to see them die. They live beautifully, but die so easily.”

Much like love, the voice in my head growled.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t be… I don’t know…cleaning?”

“I’m very sure. When your father gets here, hug him. Tell him your party was wonderful and ask about breakfast.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“If you get in trouble, tell him it was all my fault.” Anything to make her shut up. Not that Karlie was actually bothering me, what bothered me was the pounding in my head that sounded like heavy metal drum solo being played on my eardrums.

“Thanks. For that, and the, uh, present.”

“Oh, how did that go?” I motioned for her to give me some more whiskey.

She raised a brow and grabbed the bottle off the table and handed it to me. I took a long pull and swallowed until the burn washed away the throbbing in my head and the world was once again tolerable.

“It went very well.” She blushed. “I think I’m going to see him again.”

Why in the hell would she do that? I couldn’t even begin to explain why that was a bad idea. I considered slapping her.

“Professionally, of course. I have this bucket list.”

“Oh Christ, you read one book with sex and suddenly you have a bucket list?”

“No.” She bit her lip. “Not one. A few. Not that it matters. There are things I want to try that I’m certainly not going ask anyone to do. At least not anyone I have to look in the face again.”

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know.
Things
.”

“Oh come one, tell me.” Suddenly, I was interested in what she had to say.

“Pegging.”

I almost choked. “Excuse me, what?”

“You know.
Pegging
.” As if saying the word again, but this time more slowly would help my brain to comprehend her meaning.

“Yes, I know what pegging is, but why do you want to try it? And with… that guy? I just can’t see it.”

“You don’t need to see it. You just have to listen to me tell you about it when I do.” She tugged me up off the floor and onto the chair. “Now, come on. You’ve got brunch with your daddy.”

“I thought that was Sunday.”

“Nope. It’s in an hour.”

“Fuck.” Then I cocked my head. “How do you know when it is?”

“Because your father sent a car.”

Of course he had. Of course he knew exactly where I was. He always knew where I was, he just never really cared unless it made him look bad.

“I need to go home and change.”

“In the guest rooms upstairs. Room one-oh-one. There’s clothes, toiletries. Courtesy of one Sutter Foxworth.”

“Kind of him.” I rolled my eyes.

Dread knotted itself in predictable tangles in my gut. My father never wanted to see me unless it was to tell me what I was doing wrong and how he expected me to fix it. This was probably more crap about his decision to run for political office.

And as much as that part of me wanted to tell him to take a flying fuck at a rolling donut, I really liked my lifestyle. I liked having my own penthouse apartment. I liked being able to buy clothes when I needed or wanted them. I liked not worrying about how I was going to pay my tuition or declaring a major. If I told him to kiss my ass, all of that went away.

So I’d paint myself up, button myself down, and make myself over into the daughter he wanted and I’d do exactly what he told me.

I trotted upstairs to get ready, just like the award-winning spaniel he required.

CHAPTER SIX

My father was generally thought to be a handsome man.

I won’t call them my friends, but girls who ran in my expected social circles who were around my age all thought so. I was pretty sure he was sleeping with Miranda Tate, but I couldn’t really blame him.

He sat across from me at the Village and Wine Country Club, hair immaculate. Gray edged out the brown at his temples, and instead of making him look old like it would have a woman, it made him look weathered and strong. He was an imposing figure, or maybe I’d just always seen him that way.

His expression was grim. “Rebecca Renee,” he said, finally acknowledging my presence as he ended the call that had him chewing someone a new asshole in Japanese.

I waited for him to gather his thoughts. When I was younger, and he gave me this look, it always made me wonder what I’d done wrong and how to fix it. Now I just waited for him to tell me. It was the only thing that soothed his ire.

“It’s been brought to my attention that you were seen out Edgeleaf’s son.”

Oh,
hell
.

“Yes, we went to Chateau Avalon for a nice dinner.”

“And did you enjoy yourself?” His eyebrow arched.

I wasn’t sure if this was a test or not, probably. But I answered honestly. “Not really, no. I don’t think I’ll see him again.”

“You’re definitely seeing him again. He’ll be joining us for brunch.”

“You could have asked me if I’d like him to join us for brunch,” I said quietly.

He laughed. “And obviously, you’d make the wrong choice. I like him. I like his family. You’ve had your fun, now it’s time to get serious.”

Jesus Christ. But I knew better than to argue. Although, I couldn’t hide the rebellion in my eyes and of course, my father saw it.

“Don’t embarrass me, Rebecca Renee.”

“Of course not.”
Because I live and fucking breathe to serve you
.

“What’s your objection to him? Was he rude? Was he inappropriate?”

This was the first glimmer of any real fatherly concern I’d ever seen. I knew he thought fat camp was in my best interest, but there was some edge to his voice.

“What would you do if he had been?” I fidgeted with my napkin.

“Stop fidgeting.”

I sat up straight, smoothed the napkin in my lap and looked up to meet his eyes.

He studied me for a long while, but I didn’t look away. I needed to know his answer, whatever it was.

“I would bury him,” he finally answered.

I thought about what all that could encompass when it came to my father. I thought about how that would most certainly get Thornton off my back. Then I thought about last night, and the way he’d thrown the rose on the floor.

“No, Father. He wasn’t inappropriate.” I was. Because after he’d left, I’d fucked Gavin right there like nothing Thornton had said to me mattered when it did matter. It mattered more than it should have.

“Then what’s your objection?”

“I like him.” Again, honesty was usually the best policy when it came to father because most of the time, he already knew the answer. He didn’t ask questions because he wanted to hear what you had to say. He asked because being right was paramount.

Although, I didn’t get the reaction from him that I expected. He laughed. “Looks like you got more than my nose.” He shook his head. “You’d have been dangerous if you’d been born a boy.”

I seethed. Yeah, I could be this or that thing he liked, if only I’d been this other thing. If only I’d come in different packaging. If only I was thin. If only I was demure. If only I wasn’t me.

I could be dangerous now, I wanted to say. But I knew that wasn’t true. At least not to anyone but myself.

“Excuse me, Mr. Foxworth,” one of the staff addressed my father. “Your other guests are here.”

Guests? As in plural?

I eyed my father.

“Show them to the table.” Then he said to me, “I’ve poached a young up and comer and if he does well, he’ll be a veep before he’s thirty. I thought you should meet him as well.”

It was like a replay of last night.

Gavin and Thornton.

Hell
. How did I get myself into these messes?

To Gavin’s credit, he managed to put on the face that impressed my father. I wonder if they’d talked about trouser snakes or if he saved that for the ladies.

I tried not to feel betrayed, but somehow I still did. I guessed because I thought Gavin was something apart from all of this. See, that’s what happened when you went falling asleep with someone.

Remind me never to do that again.

“I already know Gavin, Daddy. He was at Karlie’s party last night and so was Thornton. If I’d known these two were coming to brunch, we could’ve ridden together. Wouldn’t that have been fun?”

I practically dared Thornton to contradict me in front of my father. Gavin looked terrified and Thornton, well, he just smiled. “Really? I’ll let you know next time. How about next week?”

I should’ve expected Thornton to turn it around on me, although why he’d want to spend time with me after last night was beyond my understanding.

“I think I have plans, I’ll have to see.” I tried to demure.

“Cancel them, Rebecca. I’m having a small get together at the lake house,” my father ordered.

“Of course,” I quickly agreed. When I stole a glance at Thornton, I expected him to be smug, but in true gentlemanly fashion, he wasn’t.

“You’re both invited,” my father said to Gavin.

I turned my attention to Gavin. “So my father says that he’s poached you from Bausch. How exciting.”

“Have you been a guest at Village and Wine before, Gavin? Let me show you around.” My father stood and extended his hand.

Well, that wasn’t an obvious play to put Thornton and I alone. Why did he even invite Gavin if he was trying to foist me on Thornton?

This was the innermost ring of Hell and the Devil kept jacking with the thermostat.

“Did you have a good time at the party?” Of course Thornton wouldn’t endure an uncomfortable silence. Instead, he’d make uncomfortable conversation, trying to be polite.

“I did. Did you?” Why did I even ask that? I didn’t want an answer.

“I heard about your present to Karlie. Interesting choice.”

I took a drink of the mimosa. It tasted like refried shit after the whiskey, and the toothpaste.

“Look, I know you don’t want to see me, but your father invited me to this brunch weeks ago.”

“Oh, perfect. You know he’s trying to play matchmaker,” I spat.

“Of course he is. That’s what parents do in our circles. If we haven’t gotten engaged by twenty we’re going to wither on the vine and we won’t continue their great dynastic legacy.”

I detected only a hint of sarcasm, but it was the first glimpse that there was anything about the way we lived that bothered him. He’d seemed to be such a part of it that it never occurred to me that maybe he wasn’t happy with the status quo.

“You agreed knowing that’s what it would be? Why did you—nevermind.” I shook my head and turned to look out across the green where some of the other members of the club were practicing their golf swing.

I’d been about to ask him why he’d asked me out if already knew my father was trying to set us up. Or more to the point, if that was the reason he’d asked me out. His parents, my father, they’d have already plotted out our lives and started a bridal registry at Barney’s. Yes, thanks to the internet, we could pay too much for crap we didn’t need in Kansas City, too.

“I asked you out because I thought you were funny, smart, and yes, beautiful.”

I exhaled heavily. “Would you have asked me out if I’d been a hundred pounds heavier with a giant nose?”

He gave me a strange look I couldn’t decipher. “That’s an odd question. I don’t know. If you were a hundred pounds heavier with a giant nose would you still be you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Probably not.” If I was still a hundred pounds heavier, I would never have had the courage to take off my clothes in the first place. I’d still be a virgin.

I could feel Claire psychically rattling my teeth. Or she would if she could hear the train of thought rattling around the tracks in my head.

“Rebecca, did you think I didn’t know you were fat?”

The sentence slapped me in the face like a bucket of ice. There was no venom in his words. They were what they were, but I guess the truth hurt.

“Is that what your behavior is about? I don’t care about that. Do I like your body now? Yes. If you get fat will I still like it? Yes. I liked you. The you that you showed me at Tricia’s party when we sat outside with our feet in the pool and talked all night. I don’t talk to a pair of tits and ass.”

Hearing that verbiage out of his mouth was another shock to my system. If I wasn’t careful, he was going to shock me right into cardiac arrest.

“You know, it’s all well and good to say that to me now. Now that I’m thin, got my baggy tits lifted and I had my nose shaved straight.”

He looked at me for a long moment. “Fine. Let’s both gain twenty pounds and see what happens.”

That was worse to me than… than… anything. “You’ve lost your damn mind,” I said.

“Have I?” He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe you just don’t want to admit that with the shoe on the other foot, you wouldn’t think I was attractive.”

No, that was exactly the problem. I would. I’d still want to wrap myself in him and know what it was like to have him wrap himself in me. I wasn’t going to lie and say I didn’t like his pretty gym abs, or his corded arms, or that tight, smackable ass that should be illegal on a man. But I realized even without all that, he was still what I wanted.

And that’s why I could never have him.

My instincts had been right. Thornton Henry Edgeleaf would break me.

No, he wouldn’t just break me—he’d end me.

I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. I was stuck here until my father released us back into the wild.

“Or maybe that was the problem? Maybe you don’t find me attractive. Is that why you ran away from me? Will you at least tell me what I did so I don’t do it again to someone else?”

“Yeah, for the well-being of your future dates, I guess I could pony up.” There was no way I was getting out of this. What could it hurt to tell him?

That was a stupid question, I berated myself. Of course it could hurt. It could hurt deep seeing that look of pity and disgust, the way he’d looked at me last night when he’d taken the flower out of my hair. When I’d fallen below his esteem.

I swallowed and took another drink of that god-awful mimosa. “You didn’t do anything except be you.”

“Okay, that I can’t fix.”

“I know. It’s not even a bad thing.”

“I don’t understand.” He shook his head, at an obvious loss.

“If I tell you, you have to promise to never speak of it to me again.”

“I must’ve really been horrible to make you quantify it with that. I thought we were having a good time. I’ve never been so wrong and I won’t lie, it’s screwing with my head.”

“You were perfect.” It came out in an awed whisper when I tried so hard to keep it neutral. I was always aware of the balance of power and I’d just given him all of mine with both hands.

“I am so far from perfect, Rebecca.”

God, I loved it when he said my name.
Rebecca
. It flowed graceful and deep and made me think that maybe I could be those things, too.

“If I’d been perfect, you wouldn’t have left me in a hotel room, running like a frightened rabbit.”

I think I’d made that exact same comparison that night.

“It’s not that you hurt me, but you could.”

He leaned over, as if he were about to tell me a secret. “We can all hurt each other. I didn’t see you running from Gavin. In fact, you were chasing him.”

“I could fall in love with you, Thornton.” I snarled it like I would talking about any dark and painful thing. “And I can’t ever let that happen.”

“Again, I’m sorry if I’m being obtuse, but isn’t that why you date? Don’t you want to fall in love? Don’t you want to find someone, get married, get old together?” He cocked his head to the side almost like a dog who just didn’t understand he’d shat on the floor.

“I’ll get old with myself, thanks.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Damn him for seeing straight through me. Damn him for knowing I was a liar and calling me on it.

Damn him for being the one I could imagine forever with.

But love at first sight was bullshit and I had a strong inclination that love at all was just a chemical reaction meant to continue the species. It would fade after the dating and mating, and then we’d be locked in some hell together, hashing off days and waiting to die.

Or we’d divorce and talk ourselves into some other delusion, some other love, and we’d keep telling ourselves that this was what we wanted even though we were still miserable.