EMERSON
When Aster dropped the box on the table, I glanced up at her hopefully. “Did he buy it? The whole accountant thing?” It was almost impossible to believe Aster, of all people, was going to be my partner in crime. It was hard trying to see her in a different light. Trying not to judge her, the way she had me. But she was the only person who knew as much about the gala as Lucas.
“Of course he did,” she answered snippily. And then, when I raised an eyebrow at her, she softened her response and her words came out in a rush. “I think so. I hated lying to him, but I don’t think he suspected a thing.”
“Good.” I lifted the top off the box and started dredging out files, handing them over to Aster. “Now, let’s start at the beginning. Explain everything to me.”
When our server came by, I ordered for us—a large supreme pizza and a pitcher of beer. Aster claimed she’d lost her appetite, but I ordered enough for both of us anyway. I had a feeling this would be a long night.
Two hours, another pitcher, and eight slices later, I was finally up to speed.
I’d had to cut Aster off after only three glasses of beer. Apparently three was her limit. Good to know.
That was when the giggles had set in—yeah, surprised me too. Uptight Aster actually knew how to giggle.
She’d also gotten a little loose lipped and admitted some things. Super-weird things.
I should have stopped her, to save her dignity and all, but . . . who was I kidding? I wanted to know every juicy tidbit she was willing to confess. Who knew when I’d get another opportunity like this?
So when she admitted that she’d never had an orgasm, I gasped out loud as if she’d just confessed to burying bodies in her backward. No way was that true. She was at least my age . . . plus, she’d had sex with Lucas—my Lucas, the guy with the magical tongue—and never, not once, not ever had a single orgasm!
I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the opposite was true for me. That Lucas had made me come each and every time. Most times, more than once. I might be crude, but I wasn’t completely heartless.
She also confided that sex wasn’t really her thing. That’s how she said it, the way someone tells you they’re not into yoga or politics or frozen yogurt. That’s when I got it, there was something wrong with her. She was broken. Faulty plumbing. Because who in the world didn’t like sex?
Just having the conversation about sex had made me hot.
“You know . . .” She put her hand on mine. “That night I was coming out of Lucas’s house . . . ,” her face screwed up painfully as her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip, “ . . . he wasn’t there.” She stared at me, waiting for my response. She looked like a little girl about to burst into tears any second.
“Uh, yeah, I know,” I said, stopping her before the waterworks could start. No way did I want this turning into one of those girl-cry things. “He told me he lent you his key.”
But her watery confessions didn’t end there. “But I wanted you to think he was. When you saw me, coming out and doing up my buttons, I’d been in there with Zane. I was unloading on him. Telling him what a terrible day I’d had, and he offered to split a beer with me. I spilled it all over my blouse. He was such a gentleman, helping me clean up. But then, when I was leaving, and you were there, I tried to make it seem like . . . you know . . . that Lucas and I had just . . .” She was rambling, and when she caught herself she took a breath and refocused. “The truth is, Lucas never really wanted me. We were a good match on paper, at least our parents thought so, but that was about it. He was being sincere when he said he ended things with me. I was just too finking dense to accept it. I thought if I could hang on a little longer, he’d realize what a mistake he made.” Her eyes welled again and she sniffled ungracefully. “She still doesn’t know, his mother. He was worried the gala would stir up feelings about Adam, so he wanted to wait to break the news to her.” She wiped her nose on one of the rough paper napkins. “She suspects though. That was why she called the whole thing off. She’s punishing him.”
That woman, she really was a piece of work. She’d already lost one son, was she really willing to lose another to try to bend him to her will?
I swallowed my distaste at the idea. “Can we just change the subject?” I slid a slice of pizza her way. “You should eat something. It’s never a good idea to drink on an empty stomach.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so—” She didn’t finish. She picked at a piece of pepperoni, but didn’t actually put it in her mouth. “Can I tell you something else?”
“You probably shouldn’t. No. It’s probably a bad idea.”
And then she did anyway. “Your brother, Seth . . . he makes me tingle.” Her eyes looked down meaningfully at her own lap and her voice lowered to a whisper. “Down there.”
So.
Fucking.
Gross.
I searched for something sharp I could lobotomize myself with.
“That’s enough sharing for one day.” I started stuffing pizza down her throat. Not literally, of course. But I managed to convince her it was a bad idea to work on an empty stomach.
Once she choked down several pieces, the giggling (and the brain-stabbing confessions) came to an end. Thank God.
That’s when we finally rolled up our sleeves and started going through the files and the plans for the gala, one detail at a time. It was painful to see how much work she and Lucas had put into it, only to have his mother pull the plug by canceling the deposits. She wasn’t just an ice queen she was a superbitch.
But that was a matter for another day.
For now, we had to figure out if any of it could be salvaged. If we could fix the mess she’d left in her wake. Not start from scratch, necessarily—we could still work with a lot of what Lucas and Aster had done. The foundation was solid.
We just needed to fix the framework.
We . . . meaning Aster and me. Working together. As a team.
It was a bitter pill to swallow.
I wondered for the millionth time, why I was even doing this. I mean, sure the whole “I had a dream” thing. I kept telling myself I was trying to be a better person now that I was working with Lauren at the rec center. That I was doing this for Lucas, because I’d witnessed the way his voice changed when he talked about his brother and the foundation. How he wanted to do something good with his life.
But as much as I wanted it to be about my new do-gooder-y nature, it was more than that. The truth was, when I’d seen him that night outside his place and he’d told me the gala was off, it had sparked something in me. Something determined. That competitive streak in me had been rekindled. I couldn’t let his mother get away with destroying everything he’d worked for.
“So?” I asked Aster, holding my hand out to her expectantly. “What do you say? You think we can pull this thing off?”
She had every reason to be distrustful. A week ago she was the last person I would have considered partnering with.
Ultimately though, she gave in and stuck her hand in mine. I didn’t point out that her handshake needed work—shaking hands with her was like holding a dead fish. But mentioning that would probably start us out on the wrong foot.
We were already on pretty thin ice as it was.