Adrift Page 3
I glance around the space, looking at all the boxes and furniture that need to find their spot in my new home. I can hardly believe I’m here. I take a step over to the large window that overlooks the beach.
“Alex and I broke up.” I didn’t tell him last month because we haven’t had a lot of time to see each other. Work keeps us both busy.
“Oh shit, man, I’m sorry.” Vance walks up to me, standing beside me.
A few families are down below mixed with a few couples. Everyone’s enjoying a sunny day at the beach.
“It’s for the best. She accused me of sleeping with Ashley and then went the opposite direction and insisted I was gay.” I roll my eyes.
He chuckles. “Two extremes?”
I nod.
“Yeah I didn’t even ask her how that could be. As much as I hate to admit it, I didn’t want to fight for her. I didn’t care what she thought of me.”
His hand rests on my shoulder. “You’ll find another one.”
I shake my head. “I think I’m done for a while. Too many bullshit relationships. Too many of them wanting to change me into someone I’m not.”
He rocks back on his heels. “Look at it this way, you’re a successful young guy. Live it up for a while.”
“Knock, knock, I come bearing gifts.” Jagger’s voice sounds behind us and we turn to find him walking through the door.
“We already finished asshole.” Vance approaches him, grabbing a beer from the case he’s holding.
“Then I planned perfectly.” He winks. “I got held up at the office.” He holds a beer up to me with a puppy dog frown. “I got girls coming in an hour.”
I hadn’t told Vance yet that Alex and I broke up, but I had told Jagger. Obviously, a stupid move on my part.
“You better not,” I say, knowing him well enough to clarify this.
“Come on, we’re three successful bachelors. Let’s live it up! Besides, you need to christen the new place.”
We each clink our beer bottles in cheers, but I fail to tell them, once I find the perfect woman for me, I’ll fight to keep her and until then I’m not really interested in sampling.
Chapter Five
Jagger
Current Day
“How’s my baby boy?” my mom asks when my assistant, Victoria, transfers her call in.
“He’s no longer a baby,” I dead pan.
“Don’t remind me. It makes me want to call Dr. Brickner.”
Her plastic surgeon. I roll my eyes.
“What did you need, Mom?” I tap my pen on my desk.
“I just wanted you to know, we’re cleaning out your room and you have a safe in your closet. We’ll gladly remove it…”
“No!” I stand to my feet, buttoning up my jacket. “I’ll be over for it this afternoon.”
“Jeez, now you’re making me wish I would’ve hired a locksmith.” She giggles.
“You wouldn’t find any of it interesting.” My finger hovers over the end call button.
“Well, I’ll be gone for most of the afternoon. Take it with you because we’re starting renovations tomorrow. Breaking down the wall to your brother’s bedroom and making a suite for your father.”
“Why?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
“Oh, you know. He snores, and it’s been…”
“Please don’t continue,” I say, wishing I hadn’t asked.
“How do you think you were born?”
“Enough Mom. I’ll be by later.” I click the button before she can say anything else to get under my skin.
I press down on the button to call for Victoria.
“Yes,” she answers, as dull as a useless pencil.
“Don’t sound too eager to help me.”
“I’m about to go to lunch. What do you need?”
I shake my head. I only put up with her bullshit because she’s the best assistant I’ve ever had.
“Can you reschedule my afternoon?” I ask.
A long, annoyed breath is my reply. “Do I even want to know?”
“No.”
I hear her fingers tapping. “I can, but your dad is due…Oh, hello Mr. Kale.”
She picks up the receiver. “Your dad’s here,” she whispers like I’m about to get into trouble.
My father appears at my door.
“I’m not blind. Or deaf, Victoria.”
She huffs and hangs up as my father steps through.
Now I have visions of him trying to have sex with my mother and her refusing. I shake my head to clear the visual from my brain.
“Jagger,” he says with the deep authoritative voice he’s used on me since birth.
“Dad.” I gesture with my hand over to my couches, thinking he’ll be more comfortable. Especially with what I’m about to ask him.
“Scotch,” he says.
He sits down on my leather couch, while I walk to the bar, prepare our two drinks and join him.
“I don’t have a lot of time.” He’s already looking at his watch and I’m sure in his mind he’s calculating how quickly he can get out of here.
“Did you get the materials I sent you? The figures?” I ask, trying to keep the hope from my voice.
The ice jiggles in his glass as he sets it down. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Right.” I pick up the three books that recently had movies made based on them. “I wanted to talk about starting a new division where we pitch books to investors.”
My dad picks up a couple of the books, flipping them over to take a closer look.
“Jagger, we deal with getting our clients deals. Actors, actresses, we negotiate their deals. This would be a production division and I’m not sure we’re ready for something like that.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip.
I know he saw something in those numbers I sent him that gave him pause or he never would’ve kept this meeting. My father doesn’t waste his own time, ever. I need to sell him.
“I know, but I also have huge connections with investors. This could be a profitable channel for the company to explore. Smaller films are making money nowadays. There’s more avenues than ever to get them distributed.”
He thumbs through the pages of one of the books. If anyone wants to know what I’ll look like twenty-five years, look at my dad. Graying around his temples, tall and muscular. My brother takes after my mom, but I’m completely my dad. And I’m reminded of that every day in this office.
“I can’t say I don’t see the benefit based on the numbers you gave me, but it’s a risk.”
“We can start off small. I’ll get a group together. One book at a time. If it fails or doesn’t take off, we can scrap it.”
I don’t want to say the company can afford a loss, because I might as well throw a drink in his face for the reaction I’d get.
He places his now empty glass on the table. “Okay, Jag, you’ve sparked my interest and stated your case enough that I’ll at least consider it. But I need more specifics…who you’d want on your team, what books specifically you’re thinking of pursuing out of the gate, how much of your time this will take and how you plan to shore up your loss of productivity for your current clients. Get me all that and then I’ll make a final decision.” He stands buttoning his suit jacket.
“Thanks Dad.”
He nods, not really acknowledging that fact he’s allowing me to explore this new avenue that I’m a hell of a lot more passionate about then being an agent for over-privileged asshole celebrities. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you’re meant to do it.
“Did your mother tell you about the renovation we’re doing?” he asks, weaving into our personal relationship.
“She did. I’ll be by today for the safe.”
“I don’t want you and your brother to worry. Lots of parents do separate bedrooms.”
I nod, wondering why he feels the need to reassure me. I’ve caught both him and my mother in compromising positions before. It’s common knowledge they’re not monogamous which shocked me at twelve, but at an adult, not so much.
“I’m not. Hey, I like sleeping alone, too.” I shrug.
He shoots me a knowing smirk. I can’t very well insult the man who may have just handed me the golden key.
“One woman will stifle you.” He shakes his head and again as if the thought of monogamy is ludicrous.
“Have a good day, Jagger. Come by on Sunday for dinner.” His comment is flippant like he doesn’t really know what to say. Other than the office, I rarely see him.
My relationship with my parents is almost nonexistent, but my dad threw me a lifejacket today and damn if I’m not going to use it to swim to shore. At heart, I’m still that little boy who wants to make my dad proud.
Yeah, I said it. I’m a pussy.
Chapter Six
Jagger
My childhood home in Malibu is empty since the cleaning staff have already finished and gone home. My mom no longer employs a full staff now that my brother and I are grown.
I don’t bother going down memory lane with my parents and brother because I know the contents of the safe will do just that.
I shrug off my jacket on the way down the hall to my bedroom. Throwing it on the now bare mattress, I open my closet and see that all my stuff is gone. Boxes sit on the bottom shelf labeled with my address in a handwriting I don’t recognize.
She couldn’t even pack my shit up herself. Classic.
Maybe it’d be too much for her to take a trip down the memory lane of my childhood. Not that she was ever a prominent part of it. Now, my housekeeper, Marisol, she’s always been more like a real mother to me.
I sit down on the hardwood floor in front of the safe, my fingers twirling the knob, remembering the combination from ye
ars ago. The lock clicks and I pull the door open slowly, as if a ghost might escape. Figuratively, one’s about to. A ghost from my past.
Mine is probably the only safe in Malibu that doesn’t hide cash, jewelry, or guns. Nothing of value to a person off the street, but to me, this is my childhood and the things I’ve kept are from people who were invaluable to me.
I dig through bullshit CD’s I thought would be profitable someday. Like I ever had a music career in my future, but at fifteen you can convince yourself of anything.
Two yearbooks full of people I don’t remember, a half smoked joint and a bowl. Seriously, what was wrong with me? Then I spot it. The small rectangular black box. My mom’s call wrapped barbwire around my heart, but the sight of this box has it tightening around the organ. Fuck.
I pull it out like it contains a bomb that could detonate at any moment. Then I set it on the floor in front of me as I contemplate whether I even want to remember.
As if I don’t have control of my body, my fingers grip the box and the scent of that summer fills the air around me. There I am in my hammock, with my arms wrapped around her, the smell of salt water in the air mixed with the shampoo she used to use.
The memories cause the barbs to prick my heart but her hand-written letters to me crack it open like it was just yesterday.
Yesterday when I would wake up early hoping to see her. The only woman to ever claim me and like I did everything else, I fucked it up.
I flip the picture across the room, it flutters down until it lands softly on the floor.
Why did I come here?
A small part inside of me says it’s because I wanted to remember her. Sure, she’s crossed my mind a time or two over the years. Okay, maybe a time or twenty.
I tried to find her after college but she was with someone else, so I didn’t run to her like I wanted to. Until my mom called, I’d successfully pushed her out of my mind. I imagined her living a suburban life, with a husband who works the nine to five grind and two kids she chauffeurs around. I already hate them all. For living a life, I never could.
Standing up, I take the only box I want, grab the picture from the floor, and head out of my childhood home. One day I’ll part with what’s in that black box. One day.
THE END
We hope you enjoyed the sneak peek at the men of our Dirty Truth Series. If you’d like to know what happens to Vance, Leo and Jagger, you can grab any of their standalones listed below!
Vance’s story
The Manny
Leo’s story
Doggie Style
Jagger’s Story
Chore Play
About the Author
Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two USA Today Bestselling authors for the price of one. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have "Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle" (okay...you caught us, that's our tagline). A little about us... We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.
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Also by Piper & Rayne
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Happy Hour 7.12.18
Piper Rayne, Adrift
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