KANDY

Despite my feelings for him, I couldn’t forget to appreciate Cane for all he did for my parents and me.

I loved the little trips he would plan. Well, I think he’d planned them. He had an assistant he talked about often, who he mentioned maintained his scheduled and booked his personal massages every Thursday. I remembered because I’d always wanted to get a personal massage myself.

It was a warm, spring day of May when Mr. Cane showed up at our house. I was sitting on the stool at the kitchen island, talking to Mom about how tough softball practice was. I didn’t hear a knock, just saw Cane coming into the kitchen with two Atlanta Braves baseball caps in hand.

I immediately stopped my blabbering when his throat cleared, peering over my shoulder to find him. He wore a half-smile, his eyes sparkling from the sunlight that was bouncing off the marble counters.

My heart sped up full-throttle, my throat thick and tight.

Mom greeted him, and he gave her a hug. Around the corner came Dad, who was wearing jeans and an Atlanta Braves T-shirt, along with a baseball cap.

“Come on, kid. Get dressed.” Dad met up to me, clapping my shoulder. “Cane booked a private booth for the Atlanta Braves game tonight for his employees. Said there’s room for us to join too. Your mom has to work and we all know you’d rather spend time alone, but what do you say? Wanna come hang out with us and watch the game?”

In that moment, I could have squealed until the glass shattered. Of course, I wanted to go! Mr. Cane was going to be there, and in a private booth? I had always wondered what it was like in a private booth, so being in one with him was going to make it the best night ever.

But I played it cool. “Sure. I’m not doing much else tonight. A private booth sounds fun.”

“Good.” Cane took a step forward and tossed one of the hats my way. “Bought this for you. You don’t have to wear it. Just figured you’d like it.” He smiled and shrugged as I held the hat to my chest.

“I’ll consider it,” I teased, but deep inside I was beaming like a ray of sunshine. I headed upstairs as Dad started talking about the game and the rival team. That would spare me a good twenty minutes.

I washed up quickly and changed into a pair of jean shorts and a white shirt. I looked at the hat on the bed that Cane had just given to me. I wasn’t a huge hat person. The only time I’d worn them was for softball practice or games and I hated them because they made my head hot and my hair would always get tangled and matted.

But this, like the notebooks, pens, and chocolates, was a gift. And, whether he knew it or not, I cherished his gifts. So I brushed my hair until it was smooth and put on the hat.

When I went downstairs, Dad and Mr. Cane were standing by the door waiting. Mr. Cane saw me first and his eyes lit up, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually worn it.

“Wow. I’m surprised you didn’t trash it,” he laughed. I blushed and tried to hide it. “You all set?”

“Yep. I’m all good.” I met up with Dad who was already. “Let’s get out of here. Love you, Mom!” I shouted toward the kitchen.

“Love you, honey! Have fun!”

We were in Mr. Cane’s Chrysler and on the way to the game in no time.

The traffic was madness, dimming my patience by the second, but Mr. Cane had an assigned parking spot, so that was a bonus. We didn’t have to walk a mile just to reach the stadium. With a few steps, we were in an elevator and going up.

Dad talked the most. He loved baseball games—well, let me rephrase that. He loved any sport, really. He was a die-hard sports fanatic. If there was a game on of any kind, he knew all about it and would talk about it for hours. Even tennis. He loved it all.

The private booth was a dream. Spacious and equipped with nice chairs and cocktail tables.

It was interesting meeting the people that worked for Cane. They smiled at him so much and were so eager to shake his hand and thank him for access to the private booth, that it was awe-worthy. I could tell they hardly got the chance to see him, and now that they had it, they weren’t going to pass it up.

I enjoyed watching him interact with his employees. It gave me even more reason to fall in love with that man. He laughed and showed sympathy. He offered them drinks and food and didn’t mind hugging or patting them on the back. He was far from stuck-up or rude. He was the kind of boss an employee wished for. Understanding, compassionate, dedicated, and easy to talk to.

Oh, and I can’t forget to mention his charisma. His personality was one made of gold, but sometimes I wondered if it exhausted him, having to be on top of things all the time. Having to stay uplifted and motivated and happy, just so everyone else in the room was too. That kind of charisma and power over another seemed absolutely draining.

While Mr. Cane mingled and chatted, I sat with Dad on the front row, right in front of the window. We watched the game together for the most part. Dad made bets with me, and told me who was the best and who needed work.

“Watch him,” Dad said. “The batter. They have to keep a close eye on him. He has a strong arm on him and he’s as fast as lightning, I swear. He’s had three home runs already and the season just started three weeks ago. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Three already? Holy crap.”

“Right.” Dad sipped his beer, his eyes bulging out of his head as he watched the great batter preparing for a pitch.

My eyes wandered to the left, where Mr. Cane was standing at the bar, ordering drinks for a couple. The woman was mindlessly chatting. I think she was nervous. She was probably the employee. Her face turned beet red when Cane placed a hand on her shoulder and said something. She gave a simple nod, and I saw him mouth the words, “It’s okay. Really.” He said something else and then he excused himself.

When he did, his eyes locked right on mine.

His smile came natural and easy, and my pulse quickened as he crossed the room to get to me. “You guys having fun?” he asked, sipping the amber liquor that was in his cup.

“Hell yeah, man,” Dad said, not even looking at Cane.

I snickered. “He’s really into this game.”

Cane laughed. “I can see that. Glad you’re enjoying yourself, D.”

Dad didn’t respond, and Mr. Cane and I fought grins. I expected Cane to turn and make conversation with more of his employees but instead, he sat down in the seat right beside me, placing his drink in the cup holder. His arm brushed mine as he ran his palm over the thigh of his slacks. A hard breath poured out of him and I kept my gaze ahead, unable to deny my body’s reaction.

My spine straightened and my heart was beating even faster. My neck and hands felt hot all of a sudden, so I picked up my Mountain Dew and took a big gulp.

“I love my employees and my job,” Cane started, “but if I don’t sit down, they’ll talk my head off all night.”

At that, I looked at him and smiled. “Two hours of talking is good enough, I think.

“Should be.” He sipped from his glass while looking ahead, not really watching the game, more like staring off in the distance and thinking about something else entirely. “I’ll never admit this to them because I don’t need anyone around here taking a position with my company for granted, but it’s nice to hear how much Tempt has helped their families, and has even allowed some of them to achieve their goals. A few of them are interns for college, and since they’re working for free, we had to give them a ticket for the game.” He looked to his left and pointed at one of the boys sitting at a table with a can of soda. He was talking to a girl with blond hair. She was really pretty. “He’s with the graphics department. From what my assistant tells me, he loves it. The girl sitting with him is with our modeling agency. She’s grateful for her position. Being a Tempt model has apparently gotten her a big following on Instagram. ”

My brows dipped. “Modeling agency?”

“Oh, yeah. I have a modeling agency for our adult items. Things you shouldn’t be worrying yourself about right now.” He fought a smile, picking his glass up and swirling the ice. Dad got up and announced he was going for another beer.

When he was out of earshot, I asked, “You mean for the lingerie and edible body oils?”

At that, his eyebrows drew together and the skin around his eyes wrinkled. “How’d you know bout that?”

“I’ve done research on Tempt before. I wanted to know more about the chocolates. Then I saw the lingerie tab. It’s cool, honestly. It all fits into the same thing—wine, chocolate, and lingerie. Plus, I’m eighteen, Cane. I’ve shopped for lingerie before.”

He seemed uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. He’d straightened up in his chair and loosened his tie with his free hand. “You’ve shopped for lingerie. For what?”

I shrugged. “Just to have.”

“I see.”

We were quiet a beat.

“How are the models chosen?” I asked. He was uncomfortable and as badly as I wanted him to picture me in some of his lingerie, I wanted him to stay here beside me just as much.

He relaxed, only a little, shoulders dropping “We do auditions by doing photo shoots. The person auditioning has to be at least twenty-one because in some of the shoots, the women have to take a sip of wine or multiple, depending on the set.”

“Oh. That sounds cool.” I fought a laugh.

“What’s funny?” he asked, tilting his head to try and catch my eyes.

I ran my thumbnail over my cuticle and focused on doing that instead. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“I don’t know. I always used to say I wanted to be a model. Frankie always tells me that I’m tall enough to be one and pretty enough. I guess it takes confidence to do that kind of modeling though. Like being half-naked and stuff?”

Cane blinked quickly and cleared his throat, making a choking noise right after. “Kandy, you are too damn blunt for your own good, you know that?”

I shrugged. “Mom tells me to always express myself however I want. She doesn’t think it’s a bad thing, being this blunt.”

“That blunt mouth of yours could get you into some serious trouble one day.” He finished of his drink and then sighed. “Say the wrong thing to the wrong person and they may take it as something else.”

“Well then I’ll clarify myself for them so they understand.” He focused on my face for a few seconds, slightly shaking his head with that same smile. “What?” I threw my hands up, trying hard not to smile with him.

“You,” he murmured. “You’re just too much sometimes, Kandy Cane.”

Those words. His voice. I probably shouldn’t have taken it as much, but they made me feel untouchable. On top of the world. Was I too much for him? Did he like that I was too much? Was he tempted to test my limits, my boundaries?

“Do you know why you’re really here tonight?” he asked.

“No. Why?”

“I wanted to congratulate you on your softball scholarship. It’s not easy getting an athletic scholarship. You have to be extremely good at your sport to get one.”

“Yeah. People kept saying I was the best pitcher in our district. It’s only a one-year athletic scholarship, though. The coach probably wants to see how I play before putting me on a full ride.”

“Doesn’t matter. You got one, which is more than a lot of people your age can say. I felt bad I couldn’t really take off for your birthday, hence the reason I brought you double the notebooks and the gel pens you like.”

“Thanks for that,” I laughed. As much as I enjoyed our conversation, it felt wrong to keep thinking about how great he smelled or how close he was. He was close enough for me to kiss him, hold his hand, even. My hand itched, dying to caress him, but I stayed in control. “I have question for you.”

“What’s that?” he inquired.

“You always take my Dad or me with you to little outings like this. Why don’t you ever take your family?”

His lips smashed together instantly, and if I weren’t mistaken, his nostrils had even flared up a bit. He looked away for a moment, and then released a heavy sigh. “They’re busy people,” he answered. “Plus hanging with you and D is much more fun.” With that, he flashed his charming white smile, but I could tell it was forced. He didn’t want to smile at me. I’d struck a nerve, and felt bad for even asking. Cane never talked about his family. There was hardly any mention of them when you researched Tempt or Quinton Cane. It’s like he had no real family, just his good ol’ friends, the Jennings.

“I’m proud of you for getting that scholarship, though, Kandy. I really am.” He was creating a diversion, escaping our conversation. It was cool. I didn’t mind. I didn’t want things being awkward, especially after how the dinner ended with us not even two weeks ago, when he had to drop me off to go to Kelly. He didn’t see it that way—would never see it that way—but I did. Cane was mine, whether he knew it or not. He was always going to be mine. I just wished I could tell him.

“Kind of sucks you’ll be so far away though, huh?” His voice pulled me out of my cloudy thoughts, and I sat up a little higher with a nod

“Yeah. It will suck. I’ll miss getting chocolates and notebooks and being invited to baseball games in VIP boxes.”

He laughed at that. “Well, I’m not sure if you’ll need to go to baseballs games while you’re in school, but I can always have notebooks and chocolates shipped to you. As a matter of fact, now that we’re talking about this, what do you want as your going away gift? I want to give you something better than the same old gifts I always bring.”

“Um…” I chewed on my bottom lip, giving it some though. I wasn’t really sure. Mom had a list of everything she was going to get and I had added to that list. She said she would get all of it, despite Dad’s griping about the things that were desires instead of necessities. “I’m not sure, but I have all summer to think about it. I’m sure there’ll be something that comes up that I want.”

“Well, whatever you want, it’s yours, Bits. Nothing is too much or too pricey. Got it?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, still chewing on my bottom lip. “Got it.”

The game went into overtime, and Dad was pumped. Of course the Braves won. After the game, we were back in Cane’s car. He took us home and bid us a goodnight. Dad was pretty hammered, so I helped him to the couch. He was lucky he didn’t have to work until the next night. He crashed on the couch and I went upstairs way too happily to shower.

I dreamt about Cane that night.

The dream was so vivid that it pulled me out of my sleep. I woke up with a gasp, my panties damp, and my core tight and raw. My nipples were taut, prodding through my white camisole. I’d dreamt of Cane using his mouth on me. Everywhere. Sucking. Licking. Tasting.

The next morning, I felt the weight of my secret crush hit me hard as Dad made me coffee, whipped up some pancakes, and cut up some fruit for me, despite his slight hangover. I felt awful because there I was, crushing on his best friend, dying to do things with him that would have pissed my father off.

What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I get over this stupid crush already? It was almost like the more time I’d spent around Cane, the more I craved him.

Maybe it was a good thing, I was going to college. I would be away from him for months, and would probably forget about the crush and focus on guys my age, like Carl or even some hot college guys in case Carl and I didn’t stay on the same page.

I told myself I would forget Cane eventually, but deep down, I knew it wouldn’t happen.

It also didn’t help that there was a delivery for me the following day. Mom brought the box up to my room and left me to open it. It was packaged nicely, purple and white tissue paper, and was made out to me, but didn’t say whom it was from. Under it was a stack of notebooks, pens, and…a laptop. A new fucking laptop! At the sight of the laptop, I knew it could only be from one person.

I couldn’t believe it.

I’d been using Mom’s computer for most of my research and schoolwork, but a laptop? I squealed. I squealed so loudly that Mom rushed back to my room to ask what was wrong. When I showed her, she couldn’t believe it herself.

“Well, I guess we can scratch that off the list, huh? And look, it’s the rose-gold one you wanted!”

“I know!”

“He spoils you, you know that?” she pursed her lips. “He’d better put a lid on that stat before he ends up broke!” she laughed on her way out the door and when she left, I grabbed my phone and called Cane.

He answered after the third ring. Yes, I counted. I always counted the rings, the minutes, the hours, and the days—especially the days when he wasn’t around. The longest he’d gone without coming was three weeks.

“Hey, Bits,” he answered.

“Hi, Cane. So, um…I got the package today. I believe you sent it.”

“Really? A package? What kind of package?”

“Oh my gosh, don’t play dumb. I know it’s from you, Cane! The laptop? Dad refused to get me the Mac, so I know it wasn’t from him. I’m so excited right now!”

Cane chuckled, and I swear it made the tightness at my core even tighter. I wanted drop the phone and run to him. Run as fast as I could, jump into his arms, and kiss him. “I’m glad you’re excited about it, Kandy. It’s the least I could do.”

“The least? Are you kidding me? This is…it’s so great, Cane. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. I still want you to think about a personal gift you’d like before you go. This was a gift from me because your parents were talking about how badly you wanted one, but with as talented and smart as you are, I’m sure there will be something you’ll need a lot more. Just let me know, all right?”

“Okay.” I sucked on my bottom lip before releasing it. “You’re the best, Cane.” Something possessed me to say that. I shouldn’t have because it made me seem desperate and lame, but I was glad he took it with a grain of salt.

“Nah. I just like to see you guys happy. That’s all.”

Something he’ll never know is that I spent all night using my new laptop to write about how thankful I was to have him in my life.

Mr. Cane was a great man—a blessing and he didn’t even realize it. He underestimated his love and even the goodness in his heart. I could tell by the way he carried himself, almost like he felt something was missing and wanted to fill the void.

Maybe something was missing, and that something was his family. He never spoke of them, and I had a feeling there was a reason for it. I also had a feeling they were still around. Was he hiding them? Was he ashamed of them?

I noticed a lot about him—a lot he didn’t want people to catch on to. His giving ways were a good distraction for the people around him, but they could never fool me. I knew Mr. Cane cared about me. I knew he loved to spoil me, as well as Mom and Dad and even his employees.

But at the end of the day, I always wondered why?

Why did he feel the need to give so much to the people who simply enjoyed his presence and his time?

What was he trying to change or run away from?