Cali Boys (13 page)

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Authors: Kelli London

BOOK: Cali Boys
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As soon as they walked to the restaurant's entrance, her heart fell to her stomach and her knees felt weak. She shook her head. Just when she thought she could relax, she looked through the large window and caught sight of none other than the person she wanted to avoid most. Diggs. He was walking away from the hostess's stand, and he wasn't alone. She couldn't see who was with him. “God,” she whispered in a long exhale, caught off guard. She leaned against the wall for support.
“You okay?” Carsen asked, curiosity on his face.
She nodded and decided to be honest. She told him about what had happened earlier between Diggs and her.
“That's all?” He snickered, wrapping his arm around her. “This should be interesting.”
They entered J's Restaurant and the whole place was abuzz. They walked downstairs to the dining area, which had a lounge to the right. The waiters zipped by with pleasant smiles, and the seated patrons ate and bobbed their heads to the music that blared from the speakers. Couples danced on the outside patio and dance floor.
“Talk about deception. Who'd have known all this was behind the wall? A restaurant that plays hip-hop?” Carsen took her by the elbow as they followed the hostess toward the back. “Where's the dude at? You see him?”
She discreetly searched for Diggs and his date as they walked through the restaurant toward the outside patio. She didn't see them anywhere on the bottom floor. “Maybe they're gone.”
“Maybe not,” he whispered and nudged her. He tilted his head right.
She looked in the direction he indicated. Sure enough, Diggs was staring at them.
“That's them,” she said between clenched teeth. “Oh God, the hostess is seating us by them.”
“Good. Are you up for this, Ms. New York?” Carsen kissed her hand. “ 'Cause I don't think you really know how us Cali dudes do it. Some of us don't play.”
“Yes! I'm up for anything—with you.” She flirted more than necessary, hoping it wasn't overkill.
After he pulled out her chair for her, he swept her hair to the side and pecked his soft lips against her neck. He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Throw back your head and laugh, as if I just said the funniest, sexiest thing that you've ever heard. Quick, he's watching.”
She did as she was told and grabbed Carsen's hand. She held it, even as he walked to his side of the table and sat down. He eyed her curiously and bit his lower lip.
“How far are you willing to take this game?”
“As far as you are,” she answered honestly, enjoying every second.
“Okay. I'll wink every time I see him looking. I'm facing them, so that gives us the advantage.”
The waiter came over and his nametag read Ambrogio.
“Italian?” Carsen asked him, then ordered the food after Ambrogio nodded. To her surprise, he spoke fluent Italian, and both Kassidy and the waiter looked impressed.
“You speak Italian?” she questioned, then felt foolish. Of course he did; she'd just heard him.
“Looks are deceiving. I know it's hard to tell now,” he said, running his hands over his ultraneat braids. “But I was a military brat. When I was a kid, we moved around a lot because of my pops, and I picked up a language or two. Gotta do that when you go to elementary school, if you wanna pass.” He laughed. “Give me your hand. If we're going to put on a show, let's put on a good one.”
Carsen took her hand in one of his and kissed it twice, as if once wasn't enough. He pulled her up from her seat. With his other hand, he rubbed her shoulder and then rested it on her lower back just above her waist. They walked slowly to the area of the balcony where couples danced.
A fast-paced remix was playing and Kassidy began to dance in step with the other partying people. Carsen stood inches in front of her, winking and licking his lips. He was too cool to get his groove on, but she could tell he enjoyed watching her. She looked over her shoulder, and, sure enough, Diggs was eyeing her, too. When she turned her attention back to Carsen, he surprised her. He cupped her face gently, kissed her forehead, then her nose, and then her cheek.
“Come on, Ms. New York.” He pulled her closer, removed her purse from her hands, and held her tightly. They rocked slowly.
“Carsen, the song's fast.”
“What song? I don't hear a song. I thought we were making our own music.”
Kassidy pressed her head against his chest and closed her eyes. She no longer cared about Diggs and whoever he was with. That's the lie she told herself. They could have each other. She was right where she wanted to be.
“You ready?” Carsen asked. He stopped dancing.
Kassidy nodded.
He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her softly on the forehead. “Let's go eat. I see the waiter bringing our food.” He held her hand and guided her through the tables. All of a sudden, Carsen stopped short and she almost gasped aloud. She knew where they were going before they got there. She could smell the scent of competition a mile away. The next thing she knew, they were standing by Diggs's table.
“Diggs, right?” Carsen extended his hand. “I didn't get a chance to meet you earlier.”
“Yeah,” Diggs replied dryly, ignoring Carsen's proffered hand. The girl he was with wore a huge hat and kept ping-ponging her face back and forth, looking from Diggs to Carsen, then back to Diggs. Kassidy couldn't see past the oversized hat. She wanted to see her face, see what kind of girls Diggs liked, but couldn't. Then the girl finally turned toward Kassidy.
Oh my God
, Kassidy thought, looking at the girl's blue hair, overly made-up eyes, and pale lips. She was the rude receptionist/wannabe model from the agency who'd chastised Kassidy for being late. The one who'd seemed to get so much joy from turning Kassidy away. She was also the salesgirl who'd sold Kassidy shoes. Kassidy held her head high, made the girl look up at her, and sneered. The girl may've been where Kassidy wanted to be—with Diggs, but Kassidy had the upper hand because all eyes— the girl's, Diggs's and Carsen's—were on her. She may have gotten turned away at the agency, but she'd rise because that was what she did. She didn't bend. Didn't cave. She kept reaching for the top until she made it. Of that Kassidy was sure.
“Hey, thanks, man.” Carsen patted Diggs on the back.
“For what?” Diggs asked, holding up his head like he was superior, which sickened Kassidy. He reminded her too much of herself.
“For messing up. Don't you know if you treat a girl bad, she'll go to the one who'll treat her good?” Carsen said, then put his arm around Kassidy's shoulder and led her away. “It's time for us to party. When do I have to have you home?”
Kassidy raised her brows. As far as she knew, her mom was already gone to San Francisco, and tomorrow her mother would be meeting Kassidy's stepdad in Las Vegas. Kassidy was free until Sunday, and could do whatever she wanted. “You don't.”
17
JACOBI
J
acobi was convinced her mother didn't have a heart and had adopted her as a baby. There was no way that her mom had ever truly been in love or had wanted the affection of someone else. If she had, she must've been a woman scorned before meeting Jacobi's father. Jilted. Someone must've hurt her mom badly, and her mother must've vowed to take her grief out on the real lovers of the world, like Jacobi. Her mother would make sure that she had company in the land of the miserable. Because of her mother's heartlessness, Jacobi would die of shame, and her poor father would leave the world as a lonely man whose feelings were unrequited.
That lady
, the one who kept insisting that she'd birthed Jacobi and pretended to be her mother, wouldn't leave her alone. She was banging on her bedroom door, trying to kill her joy. Her knocking was as persistent as a jackhammer. As much as her mom tried to convince her, Jacobi knew she wasn't really her mother. She couldn't possibly be. If she were, she'd have understood her daughter, or at least would have tried to.
“Here,”
that lady
yelled, jiggling the doorknob, unable to turn it. “Ja-co-bi! Un ... lock ... this ... door ... now!” she was demanding, spitting out each syllable of Jacobi's name. They'd gone through it the whole afternoon, and not once had her mother been able to open the door. One would think that she'd have caught on, but she hadn't.
And they think teenagers are stupid.
Jacobi wasn't going to open the door, and her mother knew it.
“Fine. Have it your way, and I'll have it mine.” She slid a yellowed piece of paper under Jacobi's door.
Her birth certificate.
Jacobi picked it up.
“Dang.” That lady
was, without a doubt, her biological mother. Jacobi groaned loud enough for her mom to hear, knowing it'd tick her off.
“I told you, I'm your mother. And, believe me, right now I almost regret it as much as you do. Now unlock this door.”
“I can't. It's stuck,” Jacobi lied.
“And you'll be stuck when your father comes home and I show him this questionnaire like I should've done the other night. But, unlike you, his dinner party was important to me—it's not every day someone gets a promotion as big as his.”
Jacobi jumped up and unlocked the door. She had to. Her father was her only friend in the house now that Diggs and Hunter had sided with her mom, and she didn't want to disappoint him. If he knew about the sex questionnaire or her plans to meet Shooby, he'd be devastated. Jacobi was his little angel who made money on the stock market for him, and made his heart feel pure with her innocence. She couldn't allow her father to believe that she'd lost her morals or values. She'd inherited her principles and drive from him.
That lady
thrust the Rate Your Sex questionnaire in her face. “Take it.”
“It's not mine,” Jacobi lied again as she looked down at the e-mail Shooby had sent her. She wondered how, out of all the other things she had in her purse, Hunter had chosen the questionnaire. “Mom, I said it's not mine. Why don't you believe me?”
“I can't believe a nice girl like you would participate in such a thing. That's why I wanted us to move from the old neighborhood. Plenty of girls your age are knocked up over there. You need to go to church or something.”
“Church? You don't even go to church. And what does that have to do with anything? Especially something that's not mine,” she questioned, but knew her mother had a point. Katydid was preggo, and she was sure almost half of the other girls she knew were either in the same condition or would be soon.
“And you're sticking to your story, huh?” her mother said, crossing her arms.
Jacobi nodded.
“Okay ... well, that's that, then. No beach-house party for you.”
“What do you mean? We're all going. You're going because I was invited,” Jacobi said, more scared now than before. She had to go to the beach house. Shooby was meeting her there.
“No, just me, Diggs, and Hunter are going. Your father can't go because of the new promotion. So, it looks like just you and he will stay here.”
“But, Mom ... I'm supposed to go film the party for them, remember? That was my gift for being invited. Do you understand what you're doing to my dreams and potential career? You're killing them—my reputation. Now everyone's going to think I'm some sort of irresponsible person who doesn't deliver. That's not how Dad raised me.”
Her mother raised her brows. “I know you're your daddy's girl and all, but let's get this straight: that's how
we
raised you. And I'm
saving
you,” her mother added, scowling. “Don't you see that? And, according to this other e-mail, Alissa isn't the only one you're supposed to be with at the beach.”
What other e-mail?
Jacobi wondered. “Yes, she is. What are you talking about? I didn't get another e-mail.”
“I know you didn't because I did. I got it for you, then erased it,” her mother said, admitting to checking Jacobi's e-mails.
 
Jacobi was hotter than fish grease as she watched from her bedroom window as her mother and Diggs loaded the car. As far as she was concerned, they couldn't leave fast enough. She'd been stuck in the house with them for a whole week, and all they talked about was the beach. They'd become the
W
people. They planned
who
they would visit on their way up the coast.
What
they would do.
When
they would eat.
Why
they'd shop at one store before the others. And
where
they'd meet when they were done.
Living with them had become more like staying in a house full of crickets who mocked her with every chirp. She knew she wasn't allowed to go, so why did they keep reminding her? Hunter she could understand, because he couldn't help it; he was just a kid. But
that lady
had no excuse other than torture. Jacobi sucked it up, as her dad would say, and wiped her tears. She'd find another way to see Shooby. Even if she had the opportunity to go with them now, she wouldn't. She wouldn't want Shooby to know that she was related to insects whose ears were on their knees, because they were certainly crickets—bugs bugging her.
What had taken her months and two neighborhoods to build, her mother had destroyed in less than a day. Jacobi had promised Shooby, given him her word that they'd be together at the beach and wrap the documentary. Now her mother's heartless cruelty would make her seem like a liar—or like she was scared—or, even worse, like she'd didn't like him.
When her dad barged into her room, she jumped and accidentally dropped the blinds.
“Do you know where those things are? You know ... those things that you girls need once a month?” His hands were shaking.
Jacobi laughed. She knew what he wanted to say but couldn't. She loved him but couldn't help but torment him. She needed to smile, anything to get not being able to be with Shooby off her mind. “What things?”
His eyes darted. “Come on, Jacobi ... you know ...”
“Ohhhh,” she sang. “You mean feminine products, like Tampax, Kotex, Always.” She watched him grow queasy and wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. He was perspiring and shifting his feet. He had menstrual phobia and was uncomfortable with anything having to do with feminine products. He couldn't watch the stupid commercials, and hadn't even been able to be present in the delivery room when she and her brothers were born. “Try the bathroom.”
“I did.”
“Yours?” she asked, wondering why her mother wouldn't keep her feminine products in their master bathroom.
“No, you and your brothers'.”
Jacobi lifted her brows to him. “Yours. Try yours. Look under the sink.”
He shook his head. “Can't you get the stuff for her?”
“Dad, you know I'm not speaking to them.”
“Please. You know I can't do it ... my hands go limp when I touch the stuff.”
Jacobi had her chance and she was going to take full advantage. “Okay, but it's going to cost you. You're pulling me away from the stocks, and there are some companies that I'm keeping an eye on ... ones that aren't dropping as fast as the others,” she said, nodding toward the ticker tape scrolling across the television screen. “And I need to get my
Wall Street Journal
from Alissa's, too.”
He nodded and sighed. “Okay. Whatever you want—anything. I'll keep your mother busy while you sneak next door, and I'll watch the Dow until you get back. Just tell me what I'm looking for.”
 
“So, what're you gonna do?” Alissa asked, packing her suitcase as Jacobi leaned against the dresser.
“I don't know, but I'll come up with something. My dad is in my pocket. I made a killing for him on the market before, so getting him to let me go see Shooby shouldn't be too hard. I can just pretend I'm going to see Katydid.”
“Good idea. So you already told Shooby your situation?”
“Haven't spoken to him ... been trying to contact him. I hope he hasn't left yet,” Jacobi said. She had to get to the old neighborhood to find him, to tell him about the change in plans. She was sure he'd tried to call or e-mail or text, but her mother had taken her phone and computer away. She hoped he didn't think she was avoiding him. It had only been days, but it felt like forever. She felt defeated.
“You sure your mom won't change her mind?” Alissa asked, a look of hope on her face.
Jacobi crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Impossible multiplied by two.”
Alissa sat on the overfilled suitcase, trying to close it. “What about a film or investment class? The ones you were thinking about when we first met? I think your mother mentioned it to my mother, too.” Alissa winked, reaching down and trying to stuff a bag of maxi pads inside and out of the way of the zipper. “Education is more important than a trip to the beach.”
Jacobi stuffed the maxi pads all the way inside, then zipped Alissa's suitcase while she sat on it. She snapped her fingers. She had it. Jacobi knew what to do to get away, and felt bad for her poor father. She breathed a sigh of relief. She finally understood what enlightenment meant.
“You know, Alissa, you've got a point. My mother never said that I had to stay here with Dad, she just said I couldn't go with them.” She jumped up and hugged Alissa. “If I can pull this off right, I may just meet you at the beach ... You'll have to find a way to hide me, though.”
“That's easy. The house is huge, with separate wings like a mansion. It also has a pool house.”

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