Wild Card by Ashley Munoz

Chapter Nine

“You better have the lime-flavored chips,”I said after unlocking my best friend’s door and slamming it shut.

“Who do you think I am?” Juan placed his hands on his chest, acting offended.

“Where have you been?” Hillary jumped up and ran over to me. She wore a cute romper that made her look ten years older.

“Where did you get this?” I thumbed the mustard-colored fabric, peeling my sweater off and setting my things down.

“My sister.”

Of course her sister had hooked her up. Hillary had an amazing older sibling who always set her up with trending clothes and makeup, always making sure her little sister had the latest and greatest. I loved their relationship, but sometimes I looked at it in the same way I looked at lions in the zoo: total fascination mixed with a little trepidation. I often wondered what it would be like to have that sort of connection with my stepsister. What would it be like if we acted like real siblings and not just acquaintances?

“Mal, seriously—we actually went to the library in search of you, then your house…where were you?”

“Geez, stalk much?” I joked, grabbing for a slice of pizza before landing on the superb leather couch. Juan’s parents owned a chain of restaurants and were insanely wealthy, and he was a hybrid mix of both me and Taylor: never turning down a handout from his mom or dad but working for most of what he had. These couches had definitely been a handout. Both Hillary and I were exceptionally glad he’d decided to take them up on it.

“Where’s the roommate?” I looked around, wondering where Juan’s recluse roommate was. He usually snuck out of his room if there was pizza around—that and Hillary, although hearing she preferred women had nearly crushed the poor guy.

“Some guy in C block is having a video gaming marathon…or computer game. I don’t know.”

Hillary and I burst out laughing.

“C block? You aren’t in prison, G.” Hillary called him G when he pretended his life was much harder than it was, as he liked to do.

“My apartment building has a big-ass A on the front, and there are six units here. Over there”—he pointed out his window—“is a section with a B on the front, and there”—he pointed toward the right—“has a big-ass C. I call them blocks.”

I snickered again, swallowing more pizza. He was ridiculous, but I loved him.

“So, any word from THE Elias Matthews?” Hillary rolled her eyes, and I knew it took all her strength not to fake putting her finger down her throat. She hated what sports did to normal people. It turned us all into idiots, acting like some people were better than others just because they could throw a ball. Pfft, ridiculous.

I shook my head. “Nope, and good riddance.”

“Hmm…if he was after Taylor that hardcore, I figured he might hunt her down at your house,” Juan speculated, flipping through our Netflix options.

“Do you think he will?” I felt a frown tugging at my mouth, because I really didn’t want to see the asshole again. The embarrassment still sat like a burn mark on my chest. For some reason it burned extra right where my dumb heart sat. I blamed it. I knew my vagina was definitely to blame, but my desire for that story definitely came from the heart. So, it was grounded for the foreseeable future.

“Dunno, I mean…” He shrugged. “If it were me, and I were after you…” He looked up at me, giving me that serious Juan Hernandez look that made every woman swoon right into his king-sized bed. “I’d definitely be back.”

I threw a couch pillow at his head and laughed.

“It’s not me, it’s Taylor…but I guess I see what you’re saying.”

“Just be careful—I get weirdo vibes from him,” Hillary declared, going for a bottle of wine from the kitchen.

“You’ve never even met him.”

“I know, but I can just tell.” She didn’t joke around about being able to “tell” when it came to her vibes about people, and she usually wasn’t wrong.

We laughed, ate chips, and watched three movies before I fell asleep on Juan’s heavenly plush couch. I often stayed over at his house so it wasn’t a big deal, but waking up at two in the morning and realizing I had an early class at seven was.

I clutched my things and tiptoed out of his apartment.

I’d grabbed my car from the parking lot after my bus ride back to the school. So, with my key in hand, I headed toward the obnoxiously bright parking light I’d parked under. Safety first. Except, did I even have the right key out and ready to go so I didn’t fumble when I got to the door? I looked down for a nanosecond and managed to run into something.

“Ow, what the hell!” I rubbed my shin.

“Geez, what the fuck?” Someone growled from the ground.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” I wasn’t even sure it was my fault, but I was an automatic apologizer in these kinds of situations. Okay, in all situations. I looked down and saw someone crouched by a truck tire, a hand running over their forehead.

“What in the world are you doing on the ground?”

The crouching stranger stood, towering over me by at least several inches, and that familiar burning sensation in my chest returned stronger than ever.

“I was checking my tire—”

“You!” My tone was clipped and cold because that was exactly how I felt about this asshole.

He took a step back, rubbing a hand in his eye socket like he was exhausted. It was two in the morning, so he probably was.

“You…what are you doing here, shitty Honda?” He looked around like he genuinely was confused how I had gotten there. Once his stare settled on me again, his eyes narrowed on my hair, then my shirt…and the bra I held in my hand.

Oh no he did not.

“Are you calling me ‘shitty Honda’ in your head?” It was late, and my manners were still back in Juan’s apartment, sleeping.

His eyes seemed to narrow. It was hard to make out with the shadows covering his face.

“I am not calling you anything in my head.” Strong hands flew to his chest in defensiveness.

I scoffed. “Sounds like you are.”

“Well I’m not. What in the fuck are you doing here?” He repeated himself then grabbed something out of the back of his truck, a backpack of some kind.

“You don’t live here, do you?” I ignored him, looking back toward Juan’s block of apartments.

Please, Lord, don’t let this asshole live here. Wait…he lives in the Devils team house…right? So, why is he here?I wanted to ask him, my throat itching with the sensation, but I knew he’d probably tell me it wasn’t my business…and he’d be right. I didn’t know him; therefore, I didn’t need to know anything about him.

He ignored me, still looking me over, a twitch working its way into that handsome jaw of his until those eyes landed on my lips and stayed there. “You dating someone who lives here or something?”

Why did he sound so angry?

I sidestepped him and replied with “Or something.”

I didn’t give him a second glance, keeping my eyes low as I walked toward my car.

“It’s late—you need to be careful out here,” he yelled at my back.

I stopped, turned slightly, and tried to discern the look on his face. Maybe the other night had just been an off night for him, but how he’d treated me really did say all that needed to be said about his character. I’d never listen to this guy, not in a billion years. If he said, “Don’t step there, it’s lava,” I’d step there on principle and then die. But it would be worth it.

I turned, ignoring him once more, and continued toward my car.

“I’m serious…I don’t want to see you out here again.”

I laughed under my breath. I didn’t give a single flying fuck what he wanted, but I was cold and tired. So, I unlocked my car and started it up. Driving away, I totally ignored how he stayed there watching me until I made the turn out of the parking lot.

* * *

Taylor mentionedthat when she’d gone home to recover, my dad asked that we come into the city for a meeting. She’d ended up staying at home for two days, and we were finally getting our first chance to talk about the party.

After arguing over whose car to take, Taylor drove us downtown. It was a measly three blocks away from Kline Global, but not once had I ever considered popping in to say hi to my dad during one of my therapeutic excursions.

“So, it totally sucked?” Taylor asked as we veered from the freeway toward the exit that would take us to my dad’s building.

“Yeah…the guy never even showed up. Isn’t that crazy?” I adjusted my seat and dug in my purse to put my sunglasses away and locate my lip-wear. I liked lipstick for color, but I needed moisture. I was also trying to avoid my stepsister’s reactions as I gave her a version of the truth that I hoped wouldn’t end up biting me in the ass. I essentially omitted the part where the guy showed up and then kicked me out.

“You didn’t know who it actually was though?” She fiddled with the buttons on the dash, turning the air conditioner on. She was dying to know who’d invited her, but if I told her it was Elias…then what? He was a total asshole. I mean, I didn’t feel unsafe around him or like I was in danger…but still. What a dick.

“No…they only told me to wait in the room and said he’d be there shortly. Except he never showed up.” I shrugged, feeling my face burn at the lie. I would have rather died than admit I gave in to whoever it was that had invited her. It was mortifying enough that he’d kicked me out once he realized I wasn’t her. There was no way I was telling her.

“Well, I’m sorry about your article. I was hoping you’d get something juicy out of it.”

I shrugged again, feeling like it was my default mode. “It’s fine. At least I got to see the process and everything. Which reminds me…” I dug around in my massive purse to see if I’d brought my notebook. “Did you get to keep a copy of the contract you signed?”

She nodded, putting her blinker on. “Yeah, it was really basic, but I still have it.”

I could have wept with joy. “If you can get me a copy, I would be so grateful.”

“Mal, you aren’t going to share it in your article, right? You won’t share my name…?” She worried her lip, slowing for the red light ahead of us.

“No way. I’d never do that to you.” I looked over at her. “You know I wouldn’t, right?”

She glanced at me briefly before the light turned again. Quietly, she replied, “Yeah, I know.”

Good. I wanted to be done with this conversation, because I hated lying to her.

“What do you think Dad wants?” I asked as Taylor maneuvered in the parking garage.

Her small sigh told me she’d been talking to him behind my back. Sometimes during family brunch, the two of them would start talking business and I’d usually just check out, but with graduation creeping up on us, I wondered if there was something I had missed.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I flipped the mirror down, adjusting my makeup and applying my lipstick. I didn’t really need it, but I liked to look professional when we entered my father’s building.

“Don’t freak out,” Taylor softly requested while tugging her mirror down and pulling her lipstick free.

I turned my face to watch her apply the soft coral color to her lips, waiting for her to spill. I should have asked the question on the trip here, and now I was on pins and needles.

“Look, I know you don’t want anything to do with the company, but I do. I’d be stupid not to get involved with it. There’s going to be someone who takes over for him when he retires, and since you don’t want it…” She trailed off, snapping the lid of her lipstick back on.

I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. I knew we’d just get into an argument if I said anything. So, I opened my door and got out.

“You’re not mad?” She chased after me, locking the door on our way to the elevator. The loud chirp echoed off the white cement at our feet.

“I’m not mad. I just want you to be happy, Tay. That’s all.” And free from the disgusting men who would eat my little stepsister and her fat bank account for breakfast. Someone would inherit my father’s fortune through her, and she was naïve enough to accept that guy even knowing he might only be there for the money. She’d do all this to fulfill some misplaced desire to please the only father she’d ever known. My dad wanted one of us—actually, both of us—to work for him. I was sure he wanted to play us like chess pieces, corporate moles, or arm candy for the men he wanted to negotiate with. I wouldn’t play his games, and I had hoped my stepsister wouldn’t either.

We rode the elevator to the lobby, where we disembarked and checked in with security. Once we had our badges on, we ventured toward the gleaming chrome elevator doors that would take us up to his office.

Twelve floors later, we were exiting and padding across marble floors that had recently been waxed. Glass windows stretched along the walls, showing off the city and the gleaming sun, blue skies, and zero clouds. It was a gorgeous day, and I could almost feel the heat as we bypassed my father’s secretary and pushed open the glass doors to his office.

My father wanted a completely transparent ‘brand.’ He didn’t hide anything, and in turn, he hoped whoever he did business with wouldn’t hide anything either. It had worked wonders for him so far, and my stepmother Jackie liked that he could never be alone with anyone or cheat on her in his office. Maybe she liked to ignore the fact that he did have blinds, and with a push of a button—total privacy. But my dad wasn’t a cheater…he just wasn’t built that way. Not after losing my mom.

“Girls!” he exclaimed, standing from his chair and walking toward us.

We both leaned into his hug before taking the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. Once upon a time, there had been only one chair and a much smaller desk…but once Taylor came along, he always made sure there was a chair for each of us when we came to visit him. Memories of being sixteen and stuck in his office for the day came barreling back. His money was new to me, just like his new wife and daughter, and while they all seemed to get along swimmingly, I was left in the deep end, treading water.

“I wanted to talk to you about an upcoming dinner event.” He perched on his desk, his Tom Ford suit barely shifting as he tucked his hands into his pockets. I liked that he always got right to the point. No mincing words or fluffy pleasantries. “This dinner will be an important one, and I’d like you both to attend. I plan on having a few investors and shareholders at this event. As you know, they’re weighing in on the future of Shaw Corp…” He trailed off, bringing his hand up to his chin. My father’s hair was still mostly dark, just a single streak of grey running along each side. His tan skin looked darker than normal, evidence of his recent trip to the Caribbean. He liked to take Jackie every chance he got.

“We always attend your events, Dad—what’s so different about this one?” I asked, curious about his behavior. He never felt the need to warn us or have a special conversation prior to other events.

He hesitated, looking at Taylor for just a brief second. “You both graduate this year, and you’re going to be more involved with business meetings and events…I just want you to be prepared. Don’t wear those ratty tennis shoes you like to wear.” He leaned forward to grab my shoe in jest.

I relished the soft smile he gave me because, for a second, he looked like the Charlie I grew up with. Ratty shirts, flannel, denim, and coupons…we had practically been poor once upon a time, back after Mom’s accident. For five years, I had him all to myself, and those years I’d cherish for all eternity.

“I’ll dress appropriately, Dad.” I laughed softly, gently kicking him with my shoe.

“You need to bring dates as well, please.” His gaze went toward Taylor again, and the smallest wince seemed to spear his features.

I looked over at Taylor, whose head was lowered, her arms tucked in tight.

“Why?” I asked the question, but she was nearly screaming it with her tense jaw and dipped eyebrows.

A muscle jumped in my father’s jaw while he looked down at his desk. There was obviously something the two of them weren’t telling me. The tension between them could have been cut with a knife, but I didn’t understand why he’d wanted to see me along with her if they were just going to keep it a secret.

“I just need you both to have a date. I can’t make it seem as though you’re available. Even if it’s that friend of yours, Juan—he’d be fine to bring. Just don’t come alone, okay?” He stood, walking slightly past our chairs, which was his silent request that we leave him alone. It had taken nearly thirty minutes to get here. I’d skipped an important class to come, and he was already dismissing us?

Taylor and I stood, giving each other quizzical looks, but we didn’t ask anything more. His terms were easy enough to understand. There would be hunters attending this party, men looking for an easy ticket to my father’s fortune, and he wanted us to appear unavailable, which was good. For a second there, I had thought he’d be willing to marry one of us off to secure a lucrative deal, but if he wanted us to look taken, he obviously wasn’t interested in trading us like we were the latest commodity to hit the market.

I walked out, feeling the slightest bit of relief rush through me. I kissed my dad on the cheek on the way out and joked, “This definitely could have been texted, old man.”

He laughed and pulled me into a hug while tugging Taylor under his other arm. “I know, but how else am I going to see my girls?”

We walked with him as far as the elevators, and for a second, I didn’t mind sharing my dad with Taylor. For a second, I felt like I could share anything with her if it felt like we were really sisters. Later I would wish I had known that feeling would come back to slap me in the face.