Dirty Deeds by Stella Rhys

16

ALY

Karma.

The word played on repeat in my head because I was convinced this was it. I’d said yes to Drew’s dinner invitation a few days ago to get Emmett out of my head. I wanted so desperately to have anything to distract myself from him.

But now, despite Drew Maddox sitting next to me in a tight booth, all I could do was stare at Emmett.

Angry Emmett.

He hadn’t looked at me once, and he hadn’t said a word to anyone since sitting down. That said he did lean back whenever Britt wanted to whisper in his ear, and he didn’t remove her hand whenever she let it rest in his lap.

This is karma, Aly. This is what you get, I decided, bouncing my knee restlessly under the table as I watched Britt once again burst out laughing at something and slap her hand onto Emmett’s thigh.

But this time, she started moving it in a circle, massaging him.

Her hand stayed there even as she launched into some story about her vacation last year to Mexico, and I couldn’t help my racing pulse as I stared at it, watching it inch closer and closer to Emmett’s dick as she rambled on. My cheeks burned at the thought of her touching him there.

But they burned even harder when I looked up to find Emmett’s eyes on me.

My neck tightened, and I held my breath in my throat as for the next few seconds, we stared at one another, both of us well aware of the fact that Britt’s hand was closing in on his cock. For a moment, I was convinced Emmett was punishing me, watching me just to revel in my reaction when she finally palmed it and started stroking under the table.

Really, Emmett?I groaned inwardly.

But before she could reach it, Emmett sat up straight, removing Britt’s hand from his lap and prompting me to let go of the breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

“Whoa. You alright?” Drew turned to me, raising his eyebrows as he looked down my body. “Christ. You’re jiggling.”

My eyes went wide as I looked down at my heaving chest in my too-tight dress. Drew smirked.

“I was talking about your knee, but yeah. That too.”

“Oh.” I blushed hard, realizing what a mess I was acting like. “Sorry. About the fidgeting,” I blurted, forcing myself to stop jiggling my leg under the table. But two seconds later, I started again, making Drew both groan and laugh as he clamped his massive hand down on my knee.

“You gotta stop,” he said, his long fingers squeezing me so tight I felt a shiver run up my spine.

But it wasn’t so much a result of his touch as it was my peripherals detecting Emmett’s shift across the table.

Sitting slack before, he was suddenly tense. Rigid. I could see his shoulders broadening with every breath he drew in, and I didn’t have to look over to know that his eyes were locked intently on me. Not only could I feel the heat of his stare, I could sense Britt’s growing impatience for the fact that she was losing her audience.

“Excuse me, I do believe I was talking,” she said in singsong to play off what I could only guess was genuine irritation.

At this point, she was so adamant about having Emmett pay full attention that she cupped his jaw in her hand and manually forced him to face her.

“Babe. You’re gonna wanna hear this part,” she grinned flirtatiously. “It’s the part where I got a little too drunk after the mezcal tour and skinny dipped in the pool – in front of everyone,” she giggled, throwing in another one of her winks.

As she went on about that, Drew leaned in close.

“Hey. So I need to confess something,” he murmured, his breath tickling my ear as my breath hitched in my throat. He’d been squeezing the hell out of my bare knee a minute ago, so I was briefly afraid that he’d tell me he wanted to go home now and touch the rest of my body.

But instead he took me by surprise.

“I’m kind of only here to be a dick,” Drew rasped.

My eyes fluttered over to him. “What?”

He’d just knocked back the last of his drink – his third in less than an hour – so his eyes were bleary and his voice was a bit slurred.

“Yeah, so I’m pretty sure you know this since you two have been eye-banging all night, but Emmett wants you.” His gaze drifted off for a second as he laughed to himself. “Like… bad.”

I blinked. “I, um… yes. I do know.” I frowned as I watched Drew rattle the ice in his empty glass and drunkenly lose his thought. “So, you’re here because what? You just want to fuck with him?” I asked, desperate to keep him on track.

“Yeah. That’s pretty much what we do to each other,” he laughed. “Though, actually,” he corrected himself. “I am here to enjoy the fact that you’re my date, ‘cause you do look beautiful and that dress is… pretty fuckin’ killer,” he grinned, letting his sleepy gaze fall down the front of Evie’s nude dress. But clearing his throat, he sat back up. “But that said, I’m not actually trying to take you home tonight. Unless Emmett magically loses interest in you, which… I assure you he won’t… I’m just here to torture him as payback for some petty shit. That make any sense or did I drink too much? ‘Cause I just drank a lot.”

I managed a laugh, feeling vaguely though not entirely relieved. “Um… I think that makes some sense. Why are you drinking so fast though?” I whispered.

“’Cause that’s what it takes to survive a night with this Beth chick,” he said, handing me my margarita. “So bottoms up. ‘Cause she’s still going on about Oaxaca.”

We shared a laugh as Britt took another five minutes to wrap up her story about her Mexican mezcal tour.

“Oh my God, it was amazing. Actually, I still have some distributor contacts in case you’re interested in carrying their mezcal at your restaurant, Aly,” Britt said with a smile.

“Oh.” I was surprised, since it was actually a nice, genuine offer. “Well, that’s really kind of you but I feel like most of the booze people seem to want at the restaurant is wine, beer and Bloody Marys on the weekend,” I said, watching Britt visibly deflate at my rejection of her offer. “But hey, who knows,” I brightened. “Maybe I’ll order some for my dad. He loves mezcal. I should definitely have at least a bottle for the day he visits.”

Britt’s eyes lit up as she cocked her head. “You’ve been open for more than three months and your dad hasn’t visited yet?” Her laugh was incredulous. “Isn’t opening your first restaurant kind of a big deal for you?”

“Oh.” I paused, blinking as I wondered how the hell the conversation got here. “Yes. It is a big deal.”

“Does your dad live far away?”

“I’d say so,” I answered slowly, trying to give a casual shrug. A knot formed in my throat, and I attempted to put on a good face for Britt, but my smile was already quivering at the edges.

“What state does he live in?”

“Oh, he’s… not out of state. He lives in New York. In Brooklyn. But you know, it’s more than a two hour drive away.”

“Pshhh, that’s nothing when it comes to visiting your own daughter! Especially when she’s at like, a huge turning point in her life,” Britt exclaimed. “But maybe that’s just me? I’m just like, so close to my dad. I can’t even imagine him not wanting to visit me if I – ”

“Hey.” Emmett’s first word of the night came to cut her off brusquely. “Why don’t you stop talking about that? Recommend me another drink or something,” he muttered, sounding annoyed.

“Ooh! You bet!” Britt perked up immediately, grabbing the cocktail menu. But before she went to reading it, she looked up at me with a pout on her glossy lips. “I’m really sorry about your dad, Aly. It sucks that he just refuses to see you.”

Heat coursed through my veins and I stared at Britt as she looked down at the menu.

I wanted to ask myself what the fuck had just happened, but then I remembered that Britt was seated at the raw bar the third time my dad canceled his reservation.

In anticipation of him, I’d had the entire staff set up the nice corner table with a three-tiered pastry stand, a pitcher of fresh OJ and a bottle of Veuve Cliquot on ice. When I finally finished running around the kitchen and the dining room to make sure everything was place, I went to catch a breather in the office and text my dad for his ETA.

It was at that point that I saw he’d sent a five-word text thirty minutes ago.

Tired. Gonna take a raincheck.

No “sorry” included.

I’d kept it together in the office, and had every intention of doing so in the dining room. But the second I told Evie and felt her arms around me, I started crying.

Something Britt unfortunately witnessed.

“What the hell was that?” Drew whispered in my ear. Even in his drunken state, he could tell I was seething.

“Nothing.” I turned away to dab the wetness in my eye with my knuckle. I hated that I’d actually let the comment get to me but I also couldn’t fathom how Britt could be so malicious to someone she barely knew. “It was just… a low blow to piss me off,” I muttered between my chattering teeth.

Drew rubbed his eyes, frowning across the table then at me.

“Well, why don’t we piss her off right back?”

I bit down hard to stop my teeth from chattering. “What do you suggest?”

“Something that requires pissing off Emmett too,” Drew replied. “That okay?”

With a bitter shrug, I said, “Do what you gotta do.”

And within seconds, I gasped because Drew’s lips were on my neck.

My eyes shot wide open, promptly met with the fire of Emmett’s gaze. The hollow of his cheeks flexed as he clenched his jaw tight, and his chest visibly tensed as Drew kissed up my neck for another second or two before pulling away.

“Drew.” The stern warning in Emmett’s voice sent a shudder to my thighs. “Let me talk to you for a second,” he muttered, nodding out the booth.

Drew flashed a grin of drunken content. He was the epitome of disrespect as he said, “Nah, bro, I’m good,” before returning his attention to me. He brought his mouth close to my ear before murmuring his giddy question. “He pissed?”

“I think so,” I breathed, stunned.

“How ‘bout her?”

“I – I don’t know.”

“All good. I got this,” Drew said. Facing forward, he took a drink of my margarita before turning back with a grin. “I get any salt on my lips?” he asked.

I was rattled. I wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything, but I still peered down to check.

The second I did, Drew’s rough hand caught my jaw and he closed his hot mouth over mine, kissing me for a solid two seconds before I heard Emmett jerk forward in his seat and actually growl at Britt.

“Get out. Please.”

She protested with an indignant squeak but apparently obliged because before I knew it, Drew was being ripped away from me laughing.

“Whoa, hey – what’s this?” he feigned shock but gave me a puckish, tongue-out grin as Emmett literally dragged his long body out of the booth. Holy fuck. On his feet, Drew dusted off his front and faked half-convincing fury as he demanded to know what was going on.

But Emmett was no longer looking at him. His hot stare was once again fixed on me, and this time, there was a look of finality to it – like his patience was officially exhausted.

“Meet me outside,” he muttered, collecting my purse off the table. “I’m taking you home.”