Give Me Something (2 page)

“
I've got money saved up, Nick,” I said, pulling from his embrace and letting my hands wander down his lean, muscular back. “You can use it, and then we only need to come up with five grand.  Then we can be done with all of this.  We could – ”  Just as I was about to ask Nick to give us an honest shot of being a couple, he interrupted me.

“
I'm not taking your money, Lila.”

“
What's the plan then?” I digressed.  If I knew one thing about Nick Dammery it was that it was his way or no way.

“
I'm lining something up now.  He's a big one.  All I need is a few more days to get everything in order and then I just need you to sweep in and close the deal.”  Nick was good at roping them in.  He always found the perfect mark – some middle-aged high roller who just couldn't say no to a pretty girl.  I was surprised that Nick had found someone in this little college town that was worth the time and effort.  We were city kids, born and raised, and that's where we usually found them.  Somehow, out in the middle of nowhere, in a town made up beer-guzzling fraternity boys, wanna be hipsters, and collegiate overachievers, he'd found a mark. Recon was Nick's specialty and I was the executor.  I'd finagle my way into their lives – and their hearts – and they'd happily give me whatever I asked for.  By the time they realized I was only after their money, we were long gone and they were too heartbroken or embarrassed to report me. 

I saw a special on television one time about women that did what I did. 
Sweetheart Swindlers
was the clever nickname they'd come up with.  I was different than the women they reported on.  I never went after a mark who didn't deserve exactly what he had coming.  The ones I went after were assholes.  They'd lied and cheated their way up the business ladder, knocking down whoever got in their way without empathy.  All of them would have gladly cheated on their wives with me.  I never let it get that far though.  I refused to sleep with a mark to get money.  I was con artist, not a hooker.  That's not to say I hadn't done a few things that I wasn't proud of, but mostly I stroked their egos, offered a sympathetic ear, and wore revealing clothing.  They were just happy to be seen with a girl half their age. I gave just enough physical contact to let them think they were going to get it all and right before the cards were about to fall, I'd hit the road. 

“
Who's the guy?”  I asked, standing up from the bed, needing to put distance between Nick and me before I gave into the sexual tension I was always fighting off around him.  I knew without a doubt that Nick would sleep with me.  He'd done it before.  He never could turn down a woman's sexual advances, but I wanted something real – not just a one night stand.

“
Some tractor tycoon's son.  He just inherited a shit-ton of cash.”  The corner of Nick's mouth curled into a wicked grin, “Plus, he's a spoiled-ass brat and a total dick.”

“
Tractors?” I chuckled. “Seriously?”

“
It's for real.” Nick laughed.  “Apparently the guy made his fortune selling farm equipment.  He checked out, so now Junior's reaping all the benefits.”

“
Well, okay.  So, when do I meet Mr. John Deere?”

Nick stood up from the bed and ran his hands through his sandy colored hair, giving it that sex
-messed look he wore so perfectly.  “Don't you worry your pretty little head about it,” he said as he kissed my forehead.  “I'll let you know as soon as he's ready to go. I'll see ya later.”  He walked toward the door.  As he pulled it open he turned to look at me. “Thanks again, Rae.”  I just smiled and nodded.  I started to wonder if there was anything I wouldn't do for him.

CHAPTER 2

I stood in front of my full length mirror running my hands down the smooth fabric of the slinky black dress I was wearing.  I did the appropriate three-pivot examination –  front, rear and side view –  and determined that the cut and length of the garment was perfectly suited for my frame.  I was a little taller than average, with ample curves, but my winning feature had to be my legs.  They were thin and long and when coupled with the strappy nude heels I was wearing, irresistible.  I applied one more coat of mascara to my lashes as I widened my green eyes.  Next, came a coat of lip gloss that plumped up my already full lips. I puckered up and cleared the excess from the corners with my ring finger.

“
Are you ready Barbie?”  My one and only girlfriend, Brynn called out from behind me.  I turned to see her standing at the open door of my dorm room.  “You look great, presh.” She smiled before sitting down on the edge of my bed while I finished prepping.  Brynn called everyone
presh,
short for precious
.
It was her trademark term of affection for, well, just about everyone. Brynn and I met at work.  She was a drama major, which was perfectly suited for her exuberant ways.  She was over the top and not afraid to speak her mind, which I loved.  

“
I can't believe you read this crap,” she said, shuffling through fashion magazines to uncover the pile of art magazines I had buried.  “So boring.”  She grinned.

“
Watch it.” I pointed at her through the mirror with a scowl.  “You just don't appreciate the beauty and creativity of it all.”  My mother's admiration for art had apparently rubbed off on me.  Each month, I flipped through the pages catching up on the latest trends and names in the art world.  I think maybe, subconsciously, I'd hoped that my mother's name would appear in their pages.

“
You're right. I prefer to appreciate the beauty and creativity of real-life hot piece of ass.”

She laughed as she walked over and joined me in front of the mirror. She was a little bit taller than me, had a flawless figure, and was nothing short of beautiful.  Her hair was different every time I saw her.  She said she had to keep with the trends if she wanted to make it in Hollywood one day. 
Tonight, her chocolate colored hair appeared sun-kissed with streaks of blond and caramel ribboned through it.  She was wearing a fuchsia pencil skirt, a black one-shouldered top, a wide, black leather belt, and a pair of adorable ankle boots.  I could tell from the red soles that they were expensive.  She'd probably had to save for months to get them.  If she only knew how easy it really was to get a pair of Louboutins.  She had no idea about my
other job,
and I had no intentions of telling her.  Besides that, Brynn knew almost everything about me. She knew that my parents and I didn't speak.  She knew that I left the city to get a fresh start.  And, she knew that I had feelings for Nick.  I left out the details about how Nick and I met.  “Speaking of hot pieces of ass... If this look doesn't get Nick's attention I don't know what will,” she said, smiling at our reflections.

“
I doubt he'll notice.”  I walked over to the desk and pick up my red clutch, shoving my cell phone and lip gloss inside.

“
Are you sure he's not gay?  Most of the hot ones are.”

“
He's not,” I assured her with a chuckle.

“
Whatever you say.” She laughed.  “I just have a hard time believing that he hasn't made a play for you. There's something the matter with him.  You're wasting your time.”

“
It's different with us.  We've been friends for a long time and there's a lot of baggage.”

“
Yeah, yeah,” she said as she waved her hand dismissively, “so you've said.” 

I shook my head and smiled. 

“So, are you ready to go?”  She had no idea exactly what that baggage was.  The fact that Nick and I had slept together wasn't something I advertised.  It only happened once, and it happened to be my first time.  The morning after, neither of us spoke about it and we quickly fell back into our
normal
routine.  Like I said before, Nick had always been very adamant about not mixing business with pleasure.  Every time I thought about bringing it up I chickened out. I knew what he would say, and I couldn't stand the thought of him rejecting me.  So, I bit my tongue and hoped that one day he'd be willing to give up the life of crime and give our relationship a chance.  Unfortunately, the time hadn't came yet and I was forced to bear witness to the countless number of women that paraded in and out of his life.  I tried to pass the time by dating a few different guys, but each one of them proved to only be a stand in for the one guy I was waiting for.

I gave my reflection one more glance before heading out the door.  I had to admit the dress was really working for me.  Maybe it would be enough to make Nick think twice about his feelings for me.

Brynn and I walked across campus to a tree-lined, brick-paved street that was surrounded with two and three story houses.  Some were brick, others were sided with vinyl, but they were all perfectly groomed and each of them featured the Greek letters of their occupants on the outside walls.  We walked, arm in arm, up the long sidewalk to the front door of Nick's fraternity house.

“
Ladies,” one of the freshman pledges said as he opened the front door for us, and we were welcomed by the bellowing of loud music and rowdy college students.  This was the first party of the school year – The Sigma Welcome Back Bash.  We walked into the foyer and looked around the room.  I'd never been to a frat party before.  Last year, I tried to lay low.  I spent most of my time studying, working at the coffee shop and flipping through art magazines.  I know, really exciting.  This was all Greek to me.  Pun intended.  Nick had managed to weasel his way into the Sigma house with ease.  I was sure he blackmailed somebody, but that was neither here nor there.  He quickly became one of the house's favorite brothers.  Nick had no problems making friends.  He had an easy charm that hardly anyone could refuse. 

Surprisingly, this house wasn't anything like I'd pictured a frat house to be.  The Sigmas prided themselves on upholding traditions, which meant a well-kept, fabulously furnished interior.  The original solid oak floors and woodwork were kept in pristine condition.  We walked to our left, through the double archway, into the living room area.  A giant, leather sectional was now covered with co-eds with drinks in hand and fraternity boys eager for the alcohol to kick in.  Couples were dancing to the in-house DJ who was stationed over in the corner across from the bar. I felt his eyes on me as soon as we walked in the door.  I watched as he took off his headphones and made his way over to where I was standing with Brynn.

“Hey pretty girl,” Nick said as he placed a kiss on my cheek and his hand on the small of my back.

“
Hey.” I smiled up at him.  He was taller than me, a little over six foot, but as far as I was concerned, we were the perfect height for one another.  I knew for a fact that if he wrapped his arms around me I would meld perfectly into him.

“
Hey Brynn.” He turned his attention to my friend.  “You two look amazing tonight.”  I felt myself start to blush.  Running cons, I was used to getting guys to fawn over me, but when Nick said complimentary things to me it was different.  Different because I actually
wanted
him to notice me.

“
I always do,” Brynn said with an eye roll, oblivious to Nick's charms.  She was definitely not Nick's biggest fan.  I think all the time I'd spent pining over him with no returned affection pushed her on the dislike side of the fence.  “I think I'm gonna grab a drink.”  She gave me her 'Nick's no good' look and left us. 

“
Tell me again why you're friends with her?”  Nick asked as we watched Brynn walk away.

“
She's not that bad,” I defended.  Despite her bitchy outward appearance, Brynn wasn't completely awful.  We laughed, gossiped and became as close as I'd let myself be with her. Both of us wanted the best for ourselves, but the only difference was that Brynn gave up a sizable trust fund to pursue her dream of acting.  Her parents said it was a waste of time.  They wanted her to take the safe route, but she wanted to reach for the stars.  “I'll do whatever it takes to make it,” Brynn had said.  I believed her.  She was obsessed with the idea of fame and fortune.  She somehow managed to pay for college, and I'd seen that ruthless look in her eyes when she talked about making it happen.  I recognized it immediately because it was the same look I got when I thought about having to go back to the way I used to live.  We were two peas in a pod.  Two shallow, money hungry, manipulative peas. 

Nick leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You really do look beautiful.”  I took a second to enjoy the closeness before pulling away to get a good look at him.  He was wearing a fitted black t-shirt
that stretched nicely across his shoulders with a pair of jeans that hung just right on his narrow hips.  His body might not have been that of an athlete, but it worked for him.  He was tall and thin with just the right amount of definition.  The short sleeves of his shirt put the intricate patterns of ink that ran down both of his arms on display.  Nick had been collecting tattoos since we turned eighteen.  I remembered when his arms were just normal and bare.  Now, he was like a walking canvas.  My favorite was the crescent moon on his left forearm.  He'd gotten that one for me.  My name meant
night,
so it was fitting.  Nick surprised me with the tattoo for my nineteenth birthday.  He said it was his way of showing me how important I was to him. 

Unlike my parents, Nick went the extra mile to make me feel important and he understood me like know one else.  Despite the fact that my parents were biologically related to me, we couldn't have been more different.  My dad was a factory worker in Chicago and my mother had spent her entire life trying to become a successful artist.  The keyword being
trying.
  You can guess what kind of money those two jobs brought in.  We were poor, but according to my parents' Lennon-McCartney philosophy of life, all we needed was love.  I figured out that was the biggest bunch of bullshit I'd ever heard the first time I saw a group of teenagers at the mall carrying Coach purses while they talked on their cellphones and drank their grande skinny mochas.  Those girls had a whole lot more than love and they looked happier than I'd ever been.  It wasn't fair that I was dealt a shitty hand and they were able to live like queens.  That's when I decided that I wanted out – out of the slums that I'd grown up in, out of the hand-me-downs my mother had gotten from neighbors and out of the barely-making-ends meet lifestyle that my parents were comfortable with.  I'd been to the rich side of town.  I knew there was a better life out there and if my parents weren't going to give it to me, I'd do what ever it took to get it myself.  And I did, the day I met Nick.  My parents started asking a lot of questions after I traded my knock off brands for “fancy clothes,” and had my own cell phone.  I never told them exactly what I was doing, but they knew it wasn't legit and they didn't agree.  I was pretty sure they thought I was a drug dealer.  They told me if I didn't start earning money in a respectable way then I had to move out. Threats never did work on me. I packed up everything I had and left the front door swinging when I was sixteen.  Now, Nick was my only family.