"He is pretty though. Admit it. You can't have outgrown your crush that fast."
I sighed. She had me there.
"Maybe not. But still, it's not going to happen."
"Uh huh. Talk to me in September. Do you want sprinkles on your cone?"
I nodded. I loved coming to the Sweet Shop on Main street. We'd been coming here since we were kids. We more or less always got the same thing. Chocolate ice cream for her, and a vanilla softie cone for me. With chocolate sprinkles. Every time.
It was kind of predictable, I know. But it was also comforting. And cheap.
Frannie came from a wealthy family but she had her own problems. They just had nothing to do with money. Being heavy, shy and completely left to her own devices at home had made her socially awkward to an extreme.
Add to this her crazy kinky hair, 'the nest' as she called it. She never even bothered to do anything with it. Not after a disastrous flat iron incident at the age of 13 which left her with a singed forehead and hair that broke off at different random lengths all over her head.
Of course, no one who saw her as 'Freaky Frannie' had any clue what a sweetheart she was. Or how smart. Or insightful. I couldn't have asked for a better friend.
My mother looked after both of us most weekends growing up. Fran was practically a sister to me. And she knew all about my school girl crush on Clayton. We used to spy on him with his friends by the pool.
She wasn't going to drop it, I knew.
As much as I loved her, I wished she would shut up about it. I was confused enough as it was.
We got our cones and stepped out into the street. I was licking the side of my cone when I saw him. Clay was across the street with a group of people. A girl was hanging on his arm. But his eyes were on me.
On my mouth.
Oh God.
He lifted his hand and rubbed it across his lip. I could tell what he was thinking. He was thinking about kissing me.
And more.
A lot more.
I had a sudden feeling that I was in deep trouble.
Because I was thinking the same thing.
Chapter Seven
Clay
I stared around the room at my father and Claire's anniversary party. The event was to celebrate ten years of wedded bliss. As per usual with my father, it was a complete farce.
For one thing, they hardly ever touched each other. Except when someone was taking a photo. Then they inevitable moved towards each other slightly, and touched each others arms or something.
It was phony looking as hell.
Claire might be the perfect society wife but they had zero chemistry.
I saw Nev's mom Dana talking with some of my father's business partners. Then I glanced at my dad. Then I glanced back.
He was staring at her. And not in an impersonal manner. My Father looked almost... soft.
A shot of recognition went through me at that expression. It was a lot like the way he used to look at my mother.
Holy shit.
My father was in love with Dana?
I felt an immediate sense of resentment. He couldn't be bothered to love his own son. Or his own wife. But he loved his fucking executive assistant / property manager???
I downed my drink and headed to the bar. I winked at the bartender and grabbed the bottle of bourbon and some ice for my glass. Then I went outside to sit by myself on the patio.
The light was getting dim. Softly glowing lanterns were strategically placed outside on the veranda. I could watch the shit show going on inside and be more or less left to my own devices.
People came and went as I slowly worked my way through the bottle. I was starting to feel good, almost as if none of this external bullshit could touch me. That's when I saw her.
Nevada was working her way through the room, a silver tray in her hand. Her beautiful face was blank but I could tell she wasn't enjoying this. Her hair was tied back neatly in a french braid.
And she was wearing a uniform.
A fitted black skirt with a white blouse. A tiny little apron covered her front. Black patent leather pumps were on her feet.
Dear Jesus.
My dick lurched to attention, which was admirable considering how drunk I was. It pressed against my pants, practically clawing it's way out to get to her.
To get inside her.
Now. Right now.
Yesterfuckingday.
I poured the remainder of the bourbon into my glass and headed into the house to get my woman. And she was mine. She always had been.
Why did it take me so fucking long to see it?
Besides, if my dear Father could sleep with the help, so could I.
Nevada
I held the tray aloft and put another used plate on it. I was only cleaning up. I had yet to be trusted with a full glass of anything or an hors d'oeuvres.