Authors: Kate Perry
Project Daddy (14 page)
“Have I ever told you you look great in blue?” he asked as he continued to dot my face.
I reached for another container of blue. “I think it might be your color more. Matches your eyes.” I made a streak down the other side of his face.
I shrieked when he grabbed me and set me on his lap. I struggled but he held me firmly in place with one arm.
“My turn,” he said gleefully. He tapped the yellow jar against my thigh until a good amount of paint oozed onto my skin. Holding my leg in place with his, he began to write on it.
I bent over to read what he was writing.
KM has cooties
. “Oh, really mature, Luc.”
KM has cooties
. “Oh, really mature, Luc.”
He continued to scribble things up my thigh as I squirmed to get free. I’d show him.
I don’t know the exact moment it happened, but suddenly things changed. His fingers stroked rather than painted. I became aware of where I was and the feel of his puffs of breath on my neck and how my borrowed shirt had crept up. At the moment, whether Luc could see my underwear or not seemed the least of my worries.
I squirmed harder to get away but I felt something shift under me.
Oh shit.
I froze, my face burning. I wasn’t very experienced, but even I could figure out that I felt Luc’s package stirring to life.
Somehow I managed to look over my shoulder at Luc. He stared at me, his eyes blazing beneath half-closed lids.
I said the first thing that came to mind. “Peanuts are one of the ingredients in dynamite.”
“Katherine.”
I blinked at the way he breathed my name and I knew I was going to do something stupid. Like push my paint-coated fingers into his hair and pull him down so I could find out exactly what the girls were talking about in high school when they whispered how he had such an excellent mouth.
Which was exactly what I did. Only he fell over (probably from shock) and I landed on top of him.
I didn’t care. I was in another world exploring his mouth. It was wondrous, warm and exciting. I probed it gently, unsure but dying of curiosity.
And Luc let me. He lay there under me, patiently letting me kiss him.
Letting me kiss him?
I pulled back, aghast. I couldn’t believe I was taking advantage of him this way. I opened my mouth to beg his forgiveness but I didn’t get a chance. His mouth closed over mine and what was merely exciting became electrifying.
Someone moaned. It took me several seconds before I realized it was me. I had an excuse—my hands had gotten inside Luc’s shirt and the feel of his skin, the light peppering of hair on his chest, was distracting.
He nibbled down my neck and murmured against my skin. “Katherine.”
I opened my eyes at my name, looked down, and saw Luc clasped against me.
Luc. My best friend.
I recoiled in horror and crawled back to push away from him, my fingers over my mouth. I didn’t trust myself not to blurt out something I’d never be able to take back. Like a plea for him to take me up to his bed and ruin me for all other men.
Luc stared at me, his chest heaving under the force of his breath. “You’re getting paint on your lips.”
I lifted my fingers and stared at them. They’d been under my best friend’s shirt, on his skin.
Gulp.
I jumped up. “Uh, um, I—”
Luc stood up, making my panic rise to an all-time high.
“Um, I have to go.” I ran up the stairs like all the hounds of hell were on my heels. I changed back into my suit, not caring that I was getting finger paint all over it. I almost dropped the T-shirt Luc had lent me on his chair, but on second thought I stuffed it into my purse. To wash it, I told myself, but I knew I was keeping it as a reminder of one of the most wonderful and most horrible nights of my life.
Luc was standing at the foot of the stairs when I went back down. I squeezed by him, evading his hand as he tried to stop my flight.
“Kat, wait—”
“Gotta go. Work tomorrow, you know.” I smiled brightly at him. I felt like my face was going to crack. “Thanks for dinner. It was great. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Kat—”
I didn’t wait to hear what he was going to say. I scurried out as quickly as I could, running down the hall and all the way out into the street and to the bus stop.
The Muni gods took pity on me. A bus arrived not long after I got there. I flashed my monthly pass and headed for the first available seat. I sat down primly, pulling my skirt over my knees. Noticing a long streak of blue paint on my calf, I gasped and rubbed at it. Only the paint had dried and it wasn’t coming off except for a small chip every now and then.
The second I got home I jumped in the shower and scrubbed my body. I told myself I wanted to get rid of the paint, but underneath I couldn’t deny I was doing it to erase the tingling feeling of Luc touching me.
But it didn’t work. I could still feel the imprint of his lips on mine. I wasn’t sure what was worse: the lingering feeling of hands where he caressed me or the aching of the parts he didn’t touch.
Chapter Eleven
Wretched. That’s how I felt.
My urges lost me my best friend.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, my dad showed up at my apartment after my shower.
“Katie girl!” he boomed when I opened the door. He threw his arms around me in a bear hug.
I tried not to recoil at the toxic smell of alcohol that seeped through his pores. “Dad, this is a surprise.”
“Can’t a man visit his only offspring?”
Shit. “How much, Dad?”
He looked mortally offended, putting a hand on his chest like his heart pained him. I couldn’t help thinking he should have taken up acting. “I’m hurt.”
I sighed and walked into the living room. I needed to sit down for this.
He followed me, blustering all the way. I waited till he’d worked up enough steam to begin his rant of what a faithless daughter he was blessed with.
“I’ve been blessed with a faithless daughter!” he bellowed.
This was bad. He didn’t begin with shouting unless he owed a lot of money.
“What have I done to deserve this?” He shook his head and paced the narrow room. Good thing I didn’t have much furniture to get in his way. “I come over just because she’s in my thoughts and this is the thanks I get. Doesn’t even offer me anything to drink.”
I sighed. “Would you like some tea, Dad?”
He stopped in his tirade and smiled faintly. “No, thank you, honey. But do you have any bourbon?”
“Sorry.” When have I ever stocked alcohol in my house? “I’m all out.”
He heaved an enormous sigh. “Don’t suppose I really need it.”
I glanced at the time. “Dad, I’m sorry to rush you, but if you’re done ranting can we get to why you’re here? It’s late and I have work tomorrow.”
“To tell you the truth”—he shot me a sheepish look as he dropped onto the couch—“you were a wee bit right about why I was here.”
No kidding. “Dad ...”
“I know.” He held up his hands to forestall my argument. “I know. But, Katie bug, I’d never had a hand like this one.”
My blood chilled in my veins. I was afraid to ask, but I had to know. “How good was your hand?”
His hands fell to his sides. “It was
amazing
.”
amazing
.”
Shit. “How much, Dad?”
I tumbled off my chair when he told me. Literally.
He rushed to my side, pushing my head down between my knees. “Breathe, Katie bug. That’s it.”
When the blood flowed back into my head and I could utter more than incoherent gasps, I said, “
Are you insane
?”
Are you insane
?”
My dad winced. “Now, Katie, it’s not good for you to get so excited—”
“Damn it, Dad, what did you expect? That you could come in here and I’d roll over and just hand you the money without raising an eyebrow?”
Wait. Of course he’d expect that. It’s what I always did.
I shook my head. “No more.”
“Katie bug—” He adopted that kicked-puppy dog look he was so good at. “You have to help me. You know Ivan isn’t a forgiving man—”
“Not Ivan again!” I held my head in my hands. “I thought I told you to stay away from him the last time.”
His smile was feeble. “I had to try to win back the money you gave me last time.”
All the fight drained out of me. “Dad ...”
“I’ve learned my lesson. I swear it’s my last time.” He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout,” I mumbled as I reached for my purse.
He held his breath as I wrote out a check, not exhaling it until it was in his shaking hands. “Katie, you’re an angel.”
I snorted. No—an idiot maybe, but definitely not an angel. Angels didn’t have the raging murderous thoughts I was having.
He kissed me on the cheek and patted my shoulder. “I promise I’m finished. No more poker for me.”
It didn’t occur to me that he didn’t swear off roulette, blackjack, and the horse races until after he left.
Like usual, the next morning I got up early, prepared myself for work, and arrived at the office before everyone. As my computer fired up, I propped my elbows on my desk and buried my head in my hands.
Not for the first time, tears filled my eyes. What was I going to do?
Well, there was one thing I could easily do right now: get my dad back on track before he cleaned me out.
Gambling wasn’t the problem—he used to be a stockbroker, after all. Gambling was in his blood, and he’d been really good at it at one time. But when he coupled it with drinking, he lost control and made bad decisions that led to taking chances he wouldn’t normally take.
So Alcoholics Anonymous it was. I opened a browser, searched for the site, and printed out the meeting info. Folding the page in thirds, I carefully tucked it in my purse. I might not be able to get my dad to go to the meetings, but I could try.
It was a step in the right direction, but it wasn’t going to solve the fact that my savings were now seriously depleted or that I’d messed up my relationship with my best friend.
Maybe I could move to South America and start life over. I bet I could buy a house down there on what I had saved up. It’d be me and the drug lords.
I toyed with the cord on the phone. Maybe I should call Luc and apologize for coming on to him. I could blame it on the alcohol. Except we didn’t drink anything but water, so I guess that excuse wouldn’t fly.
My hand was on the receiver, about to pick it up (I swear) when it rang.
I shrieked and recoiled. Oh shit—that was Luc. My sixth sense told me so.
I let it ring and ring until it was on the verge of transferring to voicemail when I snatched it from the brink. I cleared my throat but my voice still sounded thick and clogged, kind of like how my heart felt. “Research. Katherine Murphy speaking.”
“Katherine, it’s Joseph.”
I frowned. “Are you sure?” Joseph didn’t croak like this person on the phone. I bet it was the tech guys in the basement making crank calls again.
“Of course I’m sure. I had a date with your boss tonight.” He began coughing. Over the phone, it sounded like he was hacking up a lung.
The pit of my stomach clenched.
Did he use past tense?
Deciding it was just a grammatical mistake, I ignored it and forced a smile into my voice. “You sound like you have a little bug.”
Did he use past tense?
Deciding it was just a grammatical mistake, I ignored it and forced a smile into my voice. “You sound like you have a little bug.”
“A little bug?” he asked hoarsely. “I’ve been hit by the cold from hell.”
Could my life get any worse? “Well, I’m sure Lydia won’t mind a little snot—”
He sneezed so violently I could feel the vibrations on my end of the phone. “Katherine, I’m not going to make it. I’m going to knock myself out with cold medicine and die in the privacy of my own home.”
Yes, my life could get worse. Panic welled up inside. I thought about the other dates I didn’t have lined up and I began to hyperventilate. “You can’t pull out now, Joseph.”
“No choice. Sorry. I’ll call you when I’m better and we’ll set up something.”
“That’ll be too late because my life will be over as soon as Lydia sees I’ve failed.” But I said that to the dial tone because Joseph had already hung up.
I dropped the phone into its cradle and dropped my head onto my desk. Then I lifted it and banged it a few more times. Maybe it’d jar an idea loose.
My door opened and one of the admins walked in. When she saw me bang my head on the desk, her eyes got huge and she took a step back, even as she was reaching out to hand me the papers she had in her hand.
I smiled thinly. “Did you know banging your head against a wall uses one hundred fifty calories an hour?”
Her expression was hard to decipher. I bet it was her breakfast coming back to haunt her. I didn’t get a chance to ask, though—she dropped the papers on the edge of my desk and ran out.
“The closest restroom is down the hall to the left,” I called out after her.
I shrugged. I didn’t have time to care where an admin got sick. I needed to figure out what I was going to tell Lydia when I met with her in exactly—I looked at the display on the phone—seventy-three minutes.
The next fifty-eight of them I spent pacing, which is a feat in the tiny space of my office. I spent about four more in complete and utter hysterics. And then I did what I always did when I needed help.
The thought that I shouldn’t call Luc crossed my mind, but habit and sheer desperation overrode any doubts I had. My goal was at stake.
Luc answered on the first ring. “Kat?”
How did he know it was me? “Hi, Luc.”
He exhaled. “I’m so glad you called. About last—”
“Luc, I need your help,” I interrupted him quickly. I didn’t think I could face what he was going to say about last night—not with what happened with Joseph this morning. I also didn’t want to hear him say what a mistake it was, that we were just friends. That would be too embarrassing.
Because he knows me so well, he heard the panic in my voice. “Are you okay, Kat?”
His concern brought tears to my eyes. I really didn’t deserve a friend like Luc. “I’m in so much trouble.”
Like it always did in a crisis situation, his voice became calm and soothing. “Tell me what happened.”
“Joseph cancelled and I have no other meetings lined up for Lydia and she wants to start the interview process tonight and she’s going to fire me when she finds out I’ve failed and I won’t be able to buy my house,” I wailed.
“Wait a minute. This is about your
project
?”
project
?”
“Yes. Joseph got sick.”
“The nerve of him.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“So what is it you want my help for? To go out and meet more men?”
I wrinkled my nose at the sharp edge in his voice. If he were a woman I would have accused him of PMSing. But because it was in my own best interest, I toned down my irritation. “I’m out of time for the meeting phase. She wants to have her choice made by the end of the week.”
“So what is it you want from me?” he repeated.
I swallowed and blurted it out. “I need you to meet Lydia tonight.”
Silence. A very charged, heavy silence.
“Excuse me?” he asked finally. “I thought I heard you say you wanted
me
to meet Lydia tonight.”
me
to meet Lydia tonight.”
“I did.”
“What?”
I winced and held the phone away from my ear. Only I could still hear him ranting despite the space.
“Of all the insane, ludicrous, absurd ideas.”
He felt kind of strongly about this, I saw. “Does that mean you won’t do it?”
“Damn right I won’t do it.”
Uh-oh. Luc was really pissed—I could tell from his tone of voice. “It’s not like it’d be a hardship. Just get together with her and flirt. You do it with every other woman you ever meet.” Was that a trace of resentment in my voice?
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, please, Luc. You know you flirt with everyone.”
“I do not.” He actually sounded incredulous.
“Remember when we went to that bar and you played pool? And that woman at the laundromat. And Leah from the clothing store, and—”
“Okay,” he said, cutting me off. “I get the picture. But I wasn’t flirting. Not with intent. I was just being friendly.”
I snorted. “Any friendlier and you’d have to use a condom.”
“Come on, Kat. I can’t believe you’d think I was interested in those women.”
“Fine.” I was willing to concede if it meant he’d take Joseph’s place tonight. “So does that mean you’ll have drinks with Lydia?”
“No.”
God, he could be stubborn. I needed to reconsider my strategy.
Time to bring out the heavy guns.
I took a calming breath, put a whimper in my voice, and batted my eyes. (Yes, I knew he wouldn’t be able to see my eyes batting, but it made me feel my role more.) “Please, Luc, you have to help me. I just want you to meet with Lydia this once. Nothing more. Only for tonight. I’ll have other candidates set up”—I hoped—“but I just need you to bail me out of tonight. Please please please.”
“No.”
“I’ll never ask you for another favor ever again for as long as we live. Please, Luc.” I put extra little-girl pleading in my voice.
“Kat ...”
Yes! He was weakening. “Please. I’d do it for you.”
“Great. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever decide I want to pimp you out.”
I ignored his sarcastic remark (as well as the pang I felt at the idea of him passing me off to another man) and waited quietly, willing him to say yes.
“I can’t believe you want me to do this.”
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