The Collection (Contemporary Reverse Harem 5)
Page 18
“Well, he’s a macho old dude and couldn’t stand that one of his sons was doing ‘sissy work.’ And even now that I have some money saved up, he won’t let me help him and my mom. They could really use it. They live in one of the crappiest parts of the Bronx.”
“You’re from the Bronx? But you have no accent.”
Music to my ears… “College will do that to you.” Shit, if I leaned over to kiss her right then, would she smack me across the face?
Down boy.Good things come to those…and all that.
“Kealy, glad you could make it.” We looked up to see Marlon standing there with Shane.
She popped up to shake their hands. “Thank you so much for having me. That’s my girlfriend, Fantine, over there on the swing.”
Surrounded by several spellbound men.
“Oh, that’s your friend,” Shane said. “I was wondering where she came from.”
“Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll keep an eye on her though, don’t worry.”
Kealy gave us all a sly smile that really made my blood pump, and it was easy to see the other guys had the same reaction. We’d been friends a long time and knew each other pretty damn well. Probably too well.
“Kealy, let me go get you a champagne refill,” Marlon said, taking her glass.
“Hey, dude, while you’re up, how ‘bout another beer for me?” I asked.
Marlon shook his head. “Sorry, Rand, you’re on your own. I only get drinks for pretty ladies. And you ain’t pretty.”
A look of amusement lit Kealy’s face, along with a pretty blush. I liked shit like that and felt a little twitch in my pants.
“What do you want to do in the long-term?” I asked Kealy when we were alone again.
She looked around again. She was either paranoid, or there was someone at the party she either didn’t like or trust. Maybe both.
“I’d eventually like to have my own men’s wear line.”
“Really? Cool. Why men’s and not women’s?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I like the fabrications better, the more complex tailoring process. And given how things are going at work, I might need to kick something off sooner rather than later.”
“What’s keeping you from doing it?” I asked.
“Well, it takes a lot of investment to get a collection together. But I think I know enough people in the industry to make a go of it.” She leaned even closer. “I have a sketchbook of designs and am going to start putting together samples soon.”
“I’m impressed, Kealy. Damn. You’re a go-getter.”
“I could say the same about you,” she said, smiling.
Shit, now I really wanted to kiss her.
I heard a ruckus behind me, and when Kealy looked over my shoulder, she gasped.
“Oh, no. Fantine.”
I turned to find Kealy’s friend flat on her ass, next to the broken pot of what had been a healthy houseplant moments before she wreaked havoc on it.
“Fantine,” Kealy called across the room. She waved too, but I’m not sure Fantine could even see that far. How did someone get that drunk, that fast?
“C’mon, I’ll help you get her out of here and into a cab,” I said.
“Thanks Rand. I’m so sorry about this.”
We each grabbed one of Fantine’s arms and hoisted her to her wobbly feet.
“Fantine, what have you done?” Kealy asked, holding Fantine with one hand and trying to pick up the houseplant with the other.
“I don’t know, Keal,” she replied. “It was just in my way.”
“Okay, c’mon. Rand is going to help us out.”
Fantine put an arm around each of our shoulders while waving goodbye to everyone. They laughed, of course, because she was so charming. She was the kind of girl who walked into a party and owned it.
Marlon’s elevator screeched to the ground floor the way it always did. I gave him shit about not maintaining it, but he said he liked it loud—he always knew when someone was coming up.
Kealy and I sat Fantine on the stoop while I hailed the first cab that swung by. We gingerly poured Fantine into the back seat, and before Kealy could join her, I placed my hand on her arm.
“I’d like to see you again, Kealy. But I also want to let you know you may hear from the other guys, too.”
Now for the tricky part.
“What? What do you mean?” she asked, her faced twisted into confusion.
“Well, we guys like to date the same woman. We call it sharing. You’ve probably heard of it.”
She nodded slowly while she studied me. “I have heard of it. Not sure it’s my thing,” she said nervously. “I’ll stay open-minded, though.”
“That’s all we ask of you. It’s really the only thing we can ask of you.”