Smart, Sexy and Secretive

Copyright © 2013
by
Tammy Falkner

Smart, Sexy and Secretive

First Edition – Smashwords
edition

Night Shift Publishing

Cover design by Tammy
Falkner

Cover photo
by
Yuri Arcurs -
Fotolia.com

ISBN-13
:
978-0-9887429-5-6

ISBN-10:
0-9887429-5-0

All rights
reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system without the written permission of the author,
except where permitted by law.

This book is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales
is entirely coincidental.

For my mom, just because she said I
could.

Dear Readers,

When I was writing Tall, Tatted and
Tempting, my eighteen year old son asked me if he could read. But
when we got to the “hot” parts, he asked me if I would cut them
out. He asked me for a version “just for him.” He’s not a prude by
any means, but he was more comfortable with a “sexy-lite” version
of the book. My mother is also someone who skips the sex scenes,
and she was intrigued when I told her about this special
version.

Since TTT was published with both
versions, I found it only fair to do that with SSS, too. One
version is a hot read, not meant for anyone under the age of
eighteen and not meant for those who don’t enjoy explicit sex
scenes. You can go straight to it using this link:

Sexy version

The second version is my son’s version.
By no means is it meant for anyone under the age of eighteen, since
it has adult content, adult language, and adult situations. But
it’s sexy-lite. You can go straight to it using this
link:

Sexy-lite
version

I hope you like your choice of story
and appreciate that the choice of which one to read is yours!
Please know that you have not been charged for two books. I have
included the sexy-lite version for those who might want it. But the
price you paid for the book is based on a word count of just over
fifty thousand words, just for one story.

Best regards,

Tammy

Smart, Sexy and
Secretive

By Tammy
Falkner

Sexy-lite
version

Emily

My dad doesn’t want me to go back to
New York. He’s wholeheartedly opposed to it. But New York is where
my heart is. It’s where Logan is. And we’re in a plane on our way
there right now.

I met Logan in the fall. He took care
of me when I needed a place to stay, and I took care of him when
his brother got sick with cancer. Matt needed an expensive medical
treatment, and the only way to get the money was for me to suck it
up and take one for the team. So, I did. I went back to California,
leaving the only man I’ve ever loved in New York, and returned to
my estranged family—the one I’d run away from. Matt went into
treatment, paid for by my father, and Logan went on with his
life.

I have wanted to contact him
so many times. But talking is difficult between us. Logan is deaf,
and he communicates by writing. I have dyslexia, and reading is
hard for me. So letters and phone calls are not possible for us.
The Reed family is poor, and they don’t even have a computer. I
considered buying them one and shipping it to them, so Logan and I
could talk using sign language on Skype, but they are both
poor
and proud
,
which is a killer combination.

It’s been almost three months since I
last saw Logan. It has been just as long since I’ve talked to him.
I want to look into his eyes. I need to see him. Soon.

The pilot announces that we’ll be
arriving in New York in twenty minutes over the intercom. Mom and
Dad look over at me. Mom is smiling; Dad is not. Dad’s bodyguard
sets his newspaper to the side and buckles his seat belt. My dad
has money. Lots and lots of money. My mom spends money. Lots and
lots of money. I am so glad my mom married my dad because no other
man on the face of the earth could ever afford her.

Dad owns Madison Avenue. Not the
street—the upscale clothing and accessory line. It’s a popular line
of really expensive items that started in California and has now
spread nationwide. My parents have more money than God.

“
Are you excited, Emily?” my
mother asks as the wheels touch down. I take a deep breath. I can
already breathe easier just knowing I’m in the same city as
him.

I look directly into her eyes since she
knows how much I love Logan, and she’s actually in favor of us
being together. “More than you know.”

“
I don’t know why you feel
the need to go to college, Emily,” my father barks. “You could have
just gotten married and lived a life of ease and
privilege.”

Last year, my dad tried to marry me off
to the son of one of his business partners. That’s why I left
California with nothing and took a bus all the way to New York. I
didn’t take a dime of my father’s money, and I supported myself by
busking in the subways with my guitar for change. My dad doesn’t
know everything about my life away from him. Like how I lived in
shelters when money was tight. And how I went for days without food
sometimes. He chooses to think I lived an upscale life while I was
away. But I didn’t. It was hard. I wouldn’t trade the experience
for anything, though. Because it’s what brought me to
Logan.

God, I want to see him so badly. I want
my parents to go away, too, but they want to see me settled into my
new apartment. It’s around the corner from the college I’ll be
attending, Julliard. I’ve always wanted to study music, and now I
can. That was my mother’s doing.

My mother smacks my father on the arm.
It’s a breezy wave, but it gets his attention. “We’ve already
discussed this, darling. She doesn’t want to get married. Least of
all to the young Mr. Fields.”

I snort. I wouldn’t marry that ass if
he were the last man on earth.

“
Fields is a fine young
man,” my father says. What’s really bad is that he believes it even
though Trip is really just an opportunistic asshole who wants to
climb the financial ladder, and he wants to use me as the top rung.
He’ll never get over
this
rung, I can say that much.

“
Mmm hmm,” I hum
noncommittally.

“
Fields is an ass, darling,”
my mother says. She gets her purse, and we disembark the plane. The
limo is waiting for us outside, and we all slide in while someone I
will never see unloads the luggage.

“
He blows his nose
constantly, Dad,” I say. “And he doesn’t shower after he plays
basketball.” And he called me stupid in front of all his friends.
But we don’t talk about that part.

My dad’s lips twitch. “That boy has a
lot of potential. Great vision. He would make a fine
husband.”

What he means is that we could combine
the two families like a business deal, increasing the net worth of
both. I have no interest in being richer. In fact, the happiest
time in my life was when I lived with Logan and his brothers. He
has four of them—two older and two younger. They live alone since
their mom died and their dad left. They don’t have much, but they
love one another like crazy.

My parents love me, but it’s not the
same thing. Not by a long shot.

“
You should partner with
him, Dad. Because I never will,” I grouse. I can’t count the number
of times in the past few months I have had this
conversation.

My dad heaves a sigh. He is a master at
business, but he knows very little about relationships.

“
Do you plan to see that boy
while you’re here, Emily?” my dad asks.

Only every chance I get, if he’ll have
me. “I doubt he’ll want to see me. I left him without a single word
and haven’t talked to him since.” He’s probably angry at me. So
angry that he has moved on. My heart lurches at the very thought of
it.

I knew that I was giving Logan up when
my dad paid for his brother’s treatment, but I didn’t think it
would be permanent. I look down at the tattoo on my inner forearm.
My father hates it; I love it. It’s a key with Logan’s name printed
down the shaft. Logan unlocked my world. He accepted and loved me
exactly as I am, or at least how he thought I was. I just hope he
still does.

It’s taking forever to get to my
apartment. I have to listen to my dad talk about how fit Trip would
be as a husband the whole ride. My mom makes a face at me. She
makes me laugh. We have a new understanding since I spilled my guts
to her after coming home. I think she gets it, and she’s on my
side. But that doesn’t make things any better with my
father.

“
If that boy is smart, he’ll
stay far, far away from you,” my father nearly snarls. He’s
adamantly opposed to me being with someone so poor.

Logan is rich in all the ways I wish I
were. He’s rich in family, steeped in love and compassion, and he
loves what he does for a living. Logan’s an amazing artist, and he
works at his family’s tattoo parlor, putting his fabulous art on
people’s skin. The last time I talked to him, he wanted to go back
to college. He got a scholarship, but he had to get a deferment
when Matt got sick. They took out a lot of loans to pay for Matt’s
first treatment, and when Matt couldn’t work anymore, Logan quit
school and took over for him.

“
If that boy has any sense
at all,” Mom says, “he’s just waiting for you to come back to New
York.”

I hope that’s the case. But so much can
happen in three months. Women throw themselves at Logan every day.
It’s asking an awful lot for him to wait for me for three full
months while I find my way back to him.

Mom pats Dad on the knee. “How is his
brother doing, darling? I know you get reports.”

I scoot to the edge of the
seat.
Please tell me he’s okay.
Please.
I have asked him this more times
that I can count, and he refuses to answer me, reminding me of the
bargain we made.

“
Fine.”

That’s all he says. Just that one word.
I flop against the seat back.

“
Elaborate, please,” my mom
says, smiling at my dad.

“
The treatment is working,
but he’s not out of the woods. He has to have scans every month,
and then they’ll start spreading them out as time goes
on.”

My heart clenches in my chest. Matt is
better. My sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. Tears start to burn my
eyes, and Mom reaches over to squeeze my knee. “That’s good,
darling,” she says to Dad. “I’m so glad you were able to help
him.”

“
I did it so she would come
back home,” he says. He glares at me. “Our deal was that she would
come home, not go to Julliard.”