One Less Problem Without You (13 page)

So she tried to pull away, but he pressed harder. It wouldn't be until she went to college the next year that she fully understood what she had narrowly avoided that night. At the time, it just felt like a guy who wouldn't get the hint. But that wasn't all.

She pushed him, her triceps working overtime, just like she'd trained them to do, and he toppled off of her, onto the grass.

She ran.

Weirdly, her main thought was that she couldn't wait to take a shower.

That thought disappeared when she heard his footsteps behind her, giving chase. She increased her pace, and he did, too. He was really
following
her? Picking up even more speed, she wondered wildly exactly what he planned to do if he caught her. He was an athlete, but so was she, whether he knew it or not. All she needed to do, she realized, was shake him off. She didn't want to run to her car, parked in the dark lot—it had gotten emptier in the time they sat on the hill.

No, all she needed to do was get into the public eye. He was a self-obsessed jerk. He wouldn't want to look stupid or weird in front of people. He wouldn't want that because he
was
stupid. It wouldn't even occur to him that a guy physically chasing a girl down was cause for real concern. He just wouldn't want to run into someone he knew.

Particularly the three blondes.

Just as she'd thought he would, he stopped as soon as she was visible in the light from the virtually empty theater. Out of breath, he gave a shake of his head and ran a hand through his hair before coughing a couple of times and sidling off to his silver Mustang convertible. He started the car, and his speakers blasted—Eminem—then he drove off.

*   *   *

SHE'D THOUGHT OF
taking a day off the next day. She could go to the movies with her mom and see a movie she
wanted
to see—didn't Kate Hudson have a new rom com out? But Kathy was determined to keep her chin held high the next day and go in.

It didn't matter, though. She knew the second she walked into the school that something was off. The looks clued her in. The whispers got her thinking. And Judy's report had her fuming.

Judy said she'd heard people talking about it outside before classes started. The field hockey team—domain of the Hot Girls—had already begun their summer practices, which took place at six in the morning. Apparently all the girls were out at the picnic tables—also the domain of Hot Girls—and talking. About Kathy.

About Leif and Kathy and Leif's Bucket List.

She couldn't contain her anger when she heard the extent of Judy's story, which was really Leif's lies. Somehow, she had to concentrate for three periods before lunch. This didn't happen, but she burned through about fifty mental drafts in her head of what she'd say when she found him.

It didn't happen like in the movies. Not everyone watched. There was no background music to come to a stop. No one clapped or watched her walk away with new admiration.

But she did what she needed to.

She walked up to Leif, thinking how ridiculous and feminine he looked in his tank top, and stopped right in front of him. His smile faded. Clearly he thought she had no reason to be mad.

“Did you tell everyone I gave you a blowjob?” she asked, wishing her voice were stronger.

“I told like one person.” He shrugged, as if it wasn't his fault and therefore it couldn't matter. “News travels fast.”

“I didn't give you a blowjob, Leif
.
”

He cocked his head at her, but his eyes showed that he was very aware of anyone and everyone who might be close enough to hear. “Well, it didn't feel much like one, no. I didn't say you gave me a
good
one.”

His friends laughed. One dolt even put a fist to his mouth and said, “Ohhh shit!”

Disgust built in her throat like vomit. “You know damn well that I didn't give you one
period
.”

“Ew, quit talking to me about your period. I already told you that was off-limits.” More laughs.

“Oh my God, are you kidding me right now? What are you, twelve?”

His friends went silent.

“You're lying about me doing anything with you, unless you count when you kissed me. Felt like a pack of rabid wolves, by the way,” she said, directing it at the girls. “Smelled like it, too.”

“You'd think you'd be a little more grateful,” he said, still
somehow
thinking he was coming off as cool.

“If I understand this correctly, you asked me out thinking you would get me to go down on you, so that you could complete some bucket list?”

“Yup. I can't remember what it was for, though.” He looked to his friend, who took a sip of root beer and then filled it in for him.

“For getting a BJ from the ugliest chick in school.”

Everyone behind Leif laughed.

Heat rose in her cheeks, and she loathed her face for betraying her yet again. Not by being less attractive than any of the faces she was surrounded by, not this time. By raising a blush and making it seem like she gave a damn about his opinion.

“You're a terrible kisser. That was enough to tell me how
great
things would be if I went further. No thanks. As you well know, I didn't do anything with you except get the hell away from you last night.”

“Okay, Miss Piggy. Whatever you say.”

This time she was undaunted by his insults. They were just too dumb to take seriously. “And you can call me fat all day long if you want. I don't care. But you're boring as a brick, and you always will be because you're too stupid to do anything about it.”

“Wow, you really are on your period,” he responded, somehow still eliciting a laugh from his buddies. The girls, at least, had stopped laughing. Even a moron could tell this wasn't funny.

“As for your bucket list? Whatever the
fuck
that's all about? You're a loser. I am the fattest chick in the school, and you couldn't get it.” She turned to the girls. “Watch out for him. He's pushy and doesn't listen to the word ‘no.' He'll even run after you, try and chase you down, until his out-of-shape lungs do him in.”

And then she walked away.

Nothing changed for the long last few weeks of school. She hadn't really expected it to. She knew her words meant nothing to him, or to any of his cronies. Her truth didn't matter, yet she couldn't let his lies go unchallenged, which made for a nightmarish push-and-pull that was futile and did nothing more than drain her of her energy and confidence.

He'd never understand that, of course. Never understand what he'd done to another human being who was just struggling along to get it right herself. And he wouldn't care even if he
did
understand it.

He was just that crappy a human being.

She hoped to God that someday he got what he deserved.

And maybe she'd even get to be the one to deliver it to him

 

CHAPTER TEN

Prinny

Alex McConnell (more specifically,
Alejandro
McConnell, which people didn't expect when they saw his light brown hair and bright blue eyes) was the lawyer in charge of Prinny's father's estate (more specifically her share of it, thanks to Leif's complaints), and even though all of the decisions were ultimately hers, he advised her on everything she came up with that required spending money. And all too often he declared it an idiotic idea and advised against it.

Actually, all too often he was right. Prinny was no fool, though; she knew when he was right, and she used his nix as the last word, so she seldom made a huge mistake.

But today's idea? She felt a little like she was grasping at straws. The business wasn't doing nearly as well as she needed it to, but she wasn't sure of the best way to change that.

“Mr. McConnell will see you now.”

The receptionist's soft voice seemed almost harsh compared to the plush comfort of the overstuffed leather sofa in Alex's waiting room. The lights were low—lamps, not overhead fluorescents—and the music was the kind of unidentifiable instrumental stuff you'd enjoy during a massage, yet quiet enough not to interfere with reading. Just a whisper, to keep the room from feeling stark. That was probably important in a lawyer's office, making sure the room didn't feel harsh.

She stood up, took a breath, smiled at Amy (the receptionist, who always wore the Wild at Heart scent from Victoria's Secret), and pushed the heavy oak door to his office open.

“Don't tell me,” he said with a welcoming smile that showed his straight white teeth and crinkled his eyes. “You want to sell black cats, and we have a problem with the Humane Society.”

“No, no.” She sat down in the chair opposite him, as she'd done at least once a week this past year, in order to try to present her new business ideas in the most …
business-y
way possible. Though she didn't always have a good, or
believable
, idea to throw at him, this was the only way she ever got to see him. And, damn it, she wanted to see him.

She shook her head. “Try again.”

“Magic wands, made in England, hindered by their status as live plants?”

“We already went through that. And they
would
have sold really well.” Unbelievable. Live plants she could understand regulating. Sticks? It was absurd.

He laughed, a good genuine laugh. “We did! Would you believe I forgot that?” He shook his head. “What have you come up with this time, Miss Tiesman?”

Prinny raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I'm not here just to chat?”

“That would be an honor, of course. And a first.”

So he genuinely had no idea how she felt about him, how she missed him if too many days stretched on and she hadn't seen him. Good Lord, hadn't he seen right through that bullshit idea to do a
Witches of Washington
documentary? She'd barely been able to find any good stories of historical magic in the most political town in the world.

In fact, as she'd written the halfhearted proposal, she'd felt certain her contention that there should be public funding for Washington Witch Research would have been a clue to him that she was joking.

Unfortunately, that was probably who he thought she was. The crazy witchy girl, head full of cotton and bad ideas.

“Okay, listen,” she said. “I know I'm not going to bowl you over with my business savvy on this one, but I need you to trust me. I'm about to take the business in a new direction that's going to bring in far, far more revenue. So I need to budget in a new salary and an expansion, even if you think I'm being stupid.”

His face grew serious. “Prinny, I would never think you were being
stupid,
and if I've ever given you the idea that I sincerely thought anything of the sort, I'm truly sorry.”

She was so touched by the earnestness of his expression and tone that her throat grew tight. So she tried to imagine Leif saying the same thing, and of course, she couldn't. Even if Alex allowed her to expand, Leif would fight it every step of the way.

And even though she was able to see that her business was going to take off, and she could see the exact amount she needed in order to budget for it, she couldn't explain
how
she knew it. And to people who didn't understand, which was
most
people, she sounded a little kooky.

She knew that. She wasn't stupid.

“Thank you,” she said to Alex, and her eyes rested briefly on the picture on his desk. Where were they, he and his wife? Belize? She always thought it was Belize, and therefore she always had a mental block against the place.

“So let's get down to business here. How much do you want, and what are you doing with it?”

“Why do you always look so nervous when you ask that?”

He laughed. “Ever since you asked for manufacturing and licensing money to make Beatles tarot cards, I am a little skeptical of your cutting-edge ideas.”

“Hey, that was
not
a bad idea!” She'd been joking, of course, but there were Beatles playing cards, so why
not
Beatles tarot cards?

“Not bad, no,” he agreed. “What's
today's
idea?”

“Workshops.”

“What kind?”

“
All
kinds. Tarot reading, wand whittling … baking herbal edibles.”

He raised his eyebrows and laughed out loud.

“Seriously! Like a center for education. Except fun little activities.”

“Wine and crystal ball reading?” His face stayed hard, but his eyes had a glint of teasing in them.

“You're kidding, but that's not a terrible idea.”

Alex—and nobody else—could make mildly derisive jokes about her business and it didn't bother her. He was respectful of it ninety-nine percent of the time. Besides, when he joked with her it felt like the Real Him, and she would never argue with seeing that side of him.

“Okay.” He shrugged. “You've already got the space, so what's the problem?”

“Well,
that's
the problem. We don't really have the space.
But
the video rental place next door is going out of business.” As she said it, she knew that, workshops or not, she needed to physically expand the store.
This
was the path she needed to take.

“Video rental place?” he echoed.

She nodded. “Weird it was still in business for so long, right? But if they could make a go of it as long as they did in this day and age, that proves almost anything can work in our part of town. Things go from irrelevant to trendy in a heartbeat. We just have to pick something that'll work.”

He wasn't so convinced. “What about where Chelsea does the psychic readings? Why not just use that room?”

“Way too small. We're talking about working up interest, getting groups in, maybe every weekend, and selling the accompanying materials for whatever the workshop is for.”