How to Hook a Hottie (11 page)

Nineteen

O
utside, sleet was falling on the Winter Wonderland parking lot.

“Where to?” Dal yelled into the wind.

“My house!”

He gave me a quizzical look.

“My dad might be able to help,” I said, then looked away.

I hadn't lied to Dal since seventh grade, when I had to sit out swim class once a month and he couldn't understand why. He was older and wiser now, and like I said, sometimes he knew me better than I knew myself. He also knew that my dad had become both mother and father to me lately, so I figured this lie would fly. Which was in both our best interests. If Dal had a heads-up on what I was up to, he'd try to stop me. Worse? He might succeed.

In the car, I fiddled with the wipers to clear the windshield. “What time is it, anyway?” I asked, expecting him to read me the dashboard clock.

When he didn't respond, I glanced his way . . . to see his left arm jutted toward me, wristwatch and all.

My heart skipped a beat.

I tried to read the face on the watch, but it was like one of those dreams where you can see the numbers and letters but you can't process them into anything that makes sense. All I could think was how he'd passed the wristwatch test.

He was into me
.

But then my saner side took over, pointing out how obviously amateur the test was, how it didn't take into account the kind of friends who hugged and poked at each other all the time anyway.

Yep, the test was bogus. Just like everything else about our business.

“Thanks,” I managed to say, then saw his arm, wristwatch and all, move toward the dashboard, where he flipped the heater switch to defrost for me. I mumbled thanks again, and then, feeling like we needed a radical subject change to clear the air of innuendo (even though I was probably the only one who thought it was there), I offered up a smile.

“I hope you were smart enough to apply to at least one college in a warm, dry climate. These Washington winters are for the birds.”

“Yeah,” he said, but his voice lacked the amusement I expected. “I'm set for next year.”

My stomach clenched.

Of course he was. I'd never bothered to ask where he'd applied, because I didn't really want to know.
Of course
he wanted to be with his beloved in Seattle. In the same dorm, if it was coed. In the same room, if they'd let him. Especially now that we were ending our business, just as she had dictated. They were sure to be closer than ever.

I sighed and turned up the volume on the radio. Obsessing about the lovebirds only made the pain stronger.

•

The house was dark. No surprise. Suz was at water polo practice, and Dad never got home before six. I turned my key in the back lock, flipped on a few lights, and steered Dal toward the fridge.

“Grab whatever you want,” I said, and headed for the stairs. “I'll be right back.”

Up in my room, I dropped to the carpet and crawled under my bed. Curling my fingers around the shoe box, I dragged it toward me. Then I lifted the lid and gazed at the lovely tumble of green and silver. Almost three thousand dollars in U.S. currency, but priceless to me. It was my freedom. It was my future. It was my hopes and dreams.

And soon it would cease to be mine. At the rink earlier, I'd realized what I had to do. I'd pay Lexie's bill. She had nowhere to turn and no one to help her. She needed this money a whole lot more than I did.

And somehow, moving myself back to square one felt like the only way I could put this Brandon Callister and hooking-up-business mess behind me. By forcing myself to make sweeping changes, figuring out new and better ways to make the five thou than pretending to be an expert at something I knew nothing about.

Hooking hotties—ha! I couldn't even get the guy
I
wanted. How could I have thought I'd help others?

What I'd had during this venture was guts—just not the knowledge. So I imagined if I had knowledge, too, like if I went to business school or took some college courses. There'd be no stopping me. And more book smarts might help me ward off future costly and embarrassing mistakes, too. Maybe my parents' dream that I go to college
was
actually in my best interest.

I probably needed to stop thinking of higher education as the evil intruder that stole my mother and start thinking of it as the next natural step in making my plans a reality.

Footsteps thumped up the stairs, reverberating in my chest. I looked up to see Dal filling the doorway.

His gaze swept the room, taking in the shoe box and then me. “So this is why we came here. For your money.”

I didn't answer; I couldn't. I was still sane enough to know how
in
sane it was for me to pay a rich kid's expenses with all the money I had in the world.

“Complikate,” he said, his tone softening. “Think about what you're doing. That money means
everything
to you.”

I searched his face, his words echoing in my ears. One of the reasons I'd initiated my Millionaire Before Twenty plan was so that down the road, I wouldn't lose sight of what was really important. But instead of preventing the problem, I had expedited and exacerbated it, making me lose sight of what was important
now
.

“Lexie needs it. And besides,” I added, my voice dropping to a half whisper. “It's like the money was starting to own me. Like
I
was in the box, surrounded by cold, heartless cash.”

His gaze swept over me, his eyes a placid, dollar-bill green color, which told me he respected my decision, wasn't choosing to fight. “You're sure? You know, you can't change your mind tomorrow and get it back.”

“I'm sure,” I said, hoping I was. I stood on slightly shaky legs, replaced the lid, and tucked the box in the curve of my arm. “Let's take this to the coach, then go give Lexie the good news.”

I expected him to turn and head out. Instead, he pressed his palms on the sides of the doorjamb and leaned forward, like he was holding up the doorframe.

My heartbeats accelerated.

“I owe you an apology,” he announced.

An apology? If his posture wasn't enough to stop me in my tracks, his words were. “For what?

“When I said you were like your mother. She would never put someone else's interests first. Especially not some kid who mostly got on her nerves.”

Feelings I didn't even know I had started arriving and demanding attention. I realized I could cry. Or get mad. Or
something
.

“You're an incredible person, Kate, a way better person than your mother will ever be or deserves in a daughter.”

Emotion filled my throat. Wow. But while I was supertouched that he thought so much of me, I did not want to think about my mother right now. I didn't want to think about anybody. Except us. Dal and me.

His hands left their security posts and reached out to me.

I stared at him for the longest moment of my life. Then I slipped the shoe box onto the nearby desk and fell into his magnetic pull. Locking my arms around his back, I pressed my head into the hollow of his shoulder.

Adoring him.

Oh, God. Being with him like this . . . it was so wrong. It was so right.

His lips brushed my forehead in a friendly kiss, sending tingles through me—and the ominous feeling that something like lightning was going to strike. Something crazy, something freaky. Something that would do irrevocable damage.

I had no choice but to step away. He was
hers
. And the last thing I wanted was to do something we'd regret, something that would drive a stake into our friendship.

I realized that without Dal, my life would lose its meaning.

“So,” I said, attempting to swallow but finding I needed saliva for that. “Should we get going?”

He paused, then reached for the shoe box. “Your money, your call. How much do you have in here, anyway?”

“Almost as much as we need. Plenty to hold her spot. It'll give us time to figure out how to get the rest.”

He walked down the stairs ahead of me. “Let's make a pit stop at my house,” he called back. “I've got some money, too.”

“No way,” I told him when I caught up with him on the landing. “You need your money for college.”

“Not really. I'll be living at home and hopefully still working at the rink.”

“What are you talking about? You can't commute to the U.” Seattle was on the other side of the state.

“I didn't apply there. I knew it wouldn't work out.”

“Financially?”

“Well, that, too,” he said, and did a throat-clearing thing. “What I really meant was between Marissa and me.”

My eyes shot open. I must have looked horribly inquisitive or at least in some kind of pain, because Dal seemed to feel the need to explain.

“Look, it was fun with her at first. The homecoming dance, and then some dates. She was a senior who liked me, and how cool was that? And later, it was exciting to have a girlfriend away at college, to go visit with no parents. But take the fun away, and it was just Marissa and me. Two people who liked the idea of being together better than actually being together.”

I tried to act as normal as I could. “You sound like you broke up.”

Shifting his weight on the hallway linoleum, he nodded. “Yeah, we did.”

Omigod. If I was dreaming, I didn't ever want to wake up. If I was awake, I didn't ever want to sleep again. Finally, finally, Dal was free!

Still, I knew I had to keep my cool. “I'm so sorry,” I managed to say, lying to him for the second time that afternoon.

He paused, his gaze all over my face. “You don't seem all that sorry.”

“I—don't?”
Frown, Kate, frown!
“I guess I'm surprised. And,” I said, thinking fast, “worried that it had something to do with our business?”

The lines eased in his brow. “Well, yeah. Partly. She's always been a little jealous. I did a stupid thing early on, admitting I'd asked you to homecoming before her. She never got over the idea that she was second best to you. So yeah, then with her suspicions about you with our business . . . everything just blew up.”

I frowned again, hoping I looked sincere. Then, since oh yeah, we needed to get to the rink, I started backing toward the kitchen and the back door.

“Just promise me something, Kate,” he said, following, poking my shoulder from behind. “If I end up without a prom date, and you don't have one either, you won't call me a coward for asking you.”

That stopped me dead in my tracks. “No! Well, I mean, not again. I mean,” I said, and I laughed. Then I realized that the fuss, the hair, the nails, the dress—the money—it would all totally be worth it if I got to be in Dal's arms. “Yeah, I'd love to go with you. If neither of us has dates.”

“The funny thing was,” he said, shifting the shoe box from one arm to the other, “I really
did
want you to be my date for homecoming. I was asking for real. I only asked Marissa to save face.”

Memories of that conversation slam-banged into a recent conversation, when Skinny Girl informed me that the underlying secret to my business's success was getting the crushes to know how the clients felt.

I hadn't known Dal
liked me
liked me when he'd asked. But would it have made a difference?

Ummm . . . I wasn't ready for him, so probably not. Not then.

But I thought about Mark with Chelsea. Jon with Dakota. Skinny Girl and her guy. Even Dal and Marissa. They'd gotten the message that the other was interested and taken a chance.

Did I dare take my own advice and tell him how I felt?

“I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time,” I managed to say. “It won't happen again. And I'm really glad you're sticking around next year. I'm not ready to become e-mail friends yet.”

“You're the one doing the leaving.”

“Not necessarily. For all you know, I'll end up at the community college, too, learning how to mount an aggressive campaign on the finance world.”

“I love it when you talk business, Kate.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, and laughed. “I love a lot of things about you, too. And I have for a long time.”

My heart stopped. I expected him to laugh and launch a fastball right back at me. That was what Dal and I
did,
right? We were best friends who joked around about almost everything, even the things that cut a little too close to the bone.

But he didn't laugh. He didn't talk. He didn't poke me. He didn't do anything but stare into my eyes. “For
how
long?” he finally asked. “A week? A month?”

I knew if I was ever going to do it, it was now. “I don't know, exactly. You've sort of grown on me.”

His mouth tugged upward, like he was trying to smile, but something was keeping it from completely coming through.

Then I figured, Oh what the hell? “And those days out at the lake last summer, well, I'd have to be blind not to have noticed you.”

He smiled and did a he-man fist squeeze. I was sure that inside his jacket, those million-dollar abs went rock hard. (Gulp.) “Yeah, I was showing off for you a bit.”

“You were? But Marissa . . .”

His face seemed to freeze-frame, and it was almost like his eyes shifted to a softer hue. “Kate, all you had to do was snap your fingers,” he said, his voice low and husky. “And I would have been yours. Don't you know how I've felt about you since . . . forever?”

Thoughts and emotions clouded my head—but nothing would keep me from responding at that very moment.

I grabbed hold of his hand, and laced my fingers with his, for the first time touching him without guilt, without caution. And with all my heart.

He sidled up next to me. Close. “Hey, you know how I went searching for tricks and tests for clients?”

I nodded, vaguely following along.

“Well, I found another one, something called the Ten-Dollar Kiss, and I've been saving it to try out on you.”

My insides fluttered, and I'm sure I smiled.

“You bet the girl ten bucks that you can kiss her on the mouth without your lips ever touching hers.” He turned and inched toward me. “Okay. Now remember, I win, you pay me. I lose, I pay you.”

I nodded, anticipation causing a fireworks thing in my veins.