Stepbrother Catfish: The Complete Series (6 page)

I’m all dolled up. I spent the past three hours getting ready for my lunch with Andrew. Focusing on primping kept me occupied and kept me from freaking myself out. Seriously.

I spent an hour on my hair, washing it and setting it with curls. My hair now flows around my face in soft bouncy waves. I pulled out and dusted off the manicure set my mom bought me for Christmas. My ten fingers and toes are now painted an eye-catching ruby red.

On the outside I look fabulous, on the inside I’m a complete mess.

I spent another hour slathering makeup on my face. I’m wearing base, highlighter, bronzer, blush, and powder. It’s probably all too much, especially in the bright light of day, but I agreed to meet him. I didn’t agree to look good doing it.

I have a full-length mirror hanging on my bedroom door. I take one last long look at the girl reflected in it. Her eyes are lined in black and powdered with dark smoky shadow. She looks hardened and unimpressed with the vision before her.

You can’t tell she’s been crying for the past twenty-four hours. You can’t tell her heart has been broken. Or maybe you can.

Her dress is tight, hugging the curves and swells of her voluptuous body. A body she usually keeps hidden in baggy clothing. The dress is too short as well. It’s a little blue dress I wore once to a dance in high school. It’s not my first choice and I barely fit in it, but it will have to do. I wore my black dress the night I met Andrew. That dress is getting burned the next chance I get.

I hail a cab to take me to the restaurant. I know better than to ride the bus dressed like this. The trip is all too quick. The buildings pass in a blur, I barely see them. When I first wanted to meet AJ, time seemed to move so slowly. Now that I’m dreading facing Andrew, time feels as if it’s moving too fast. I blink and minutes are flying past.

The next thing I know I’m standing outside of Angilos, hesitating and having second thoughts before going in. He’s in there, I can feel it. He’s waiting for me. I’m afraid he wants something more from me, something I don’t want to give. None of this feels right. It’s so fishy… ugh, I don’t think he can catfish me again.

This is crazy, what am I doing? People pass me on the sidewalk. A man dressed in a chicken suit looks back at me as if I’m the weird one. I’m just standing here, in the middle of the sidewalk, talking to myself. I’m staring at the door of the restaurant. The restaurant doesn’t even look like it's open.

I glimpse my reflection in the glass of the window. The way I’m dressed, it has hooker written all over it. I better go in before the chicken gets any ideas.

My fingers wrap around the cold metal handle of the door and for a brief moment I hope it’s locked. I hope the place is closed and I don’t have to go through with this. I pull and the door opens. I have no choice but to go on in.

The aromas of freshly baked bread, tomatoes, and spices hit my nose.  The last time I was here, AJ, I mean Andrew, stood me up. Maybe, hopefully, he did it again.

With the sun coming in through the floor to ceiling glass windows, today the restaurant is brightly lit. I look first to the empty podium where the hostess usually stands. Then my eyes scan the restaurant, it’s empty, save for the lone man seated at a table in the back. It’s him, it’s Andrew. I’d recognize his profile anywhere, even if I wasn’t expecting to run into him.

Andrew turns his head and our eyes lock. A look of surprise passes fleetingly over his features. I feel a bit of satisfaction knowing I’ve surprised him with the way I’m dressed. He usually only looks at me with disdain or contempt, so the surprise is a big improvement.

Andrew lifts his hand, beckoning me to come to him. My eyes roam over his body as I walk to his table. I don’t go as far to put a sway to my hips, but I do seriously consider it.

He must have been at work today. He’s dressed as if he just came from the office. He’s wearing a white cotton shirt, black pants, and a red tie. The tie hasn’t been loosened yet.

Andrew stands when I reach the table and pulls out a chair for me. I gracefully accept the chair while trying to hide my own surprised reaction. He’s really going all out with this.

The sounds of pots and pans banging together drift out from the kitchen. Andrew hasn’t said anything yet. I still haven’t spoken. He pushes my chair in and lingers. I hold my breath.

Having him behind me, sensing his presence without seeing him, brings back memories of our time in the dark. Memories of how his body pressed into mine, and the way his lips tasted. My body is thrumming now, overly aware of him. I’m waiting, hoping he reaches out to me, hoping to feel his touch.

He steps away and I release my breath. What the hell was that?

I watch him walk back around, into my field of vision. Now he’s no longer the stranger in the dark with the hot, roaming hands. Now he’s my asshole of a stepbrother and I can breathe again.

He sits across from me. The silence between us is uncomfortable and tense. Our eyes meet, locking again. His bore into mine, fierce, and unwavering. My eyes try to match the intensity.

Now that I’m staring into his face, I start to feel all the anger inside me bubbling back up to the surface.

“Thank you for coming,” he finally says.

I can’t help but snort with derision. “You didn’t really give me a choice.”

“If you would have responded to me, I wouldn’t have had to blackmail you,” he snaps back.

I worried that seeing Andrew in the flesh would leave me vulnerable and open. After all, he tricked me into falling in love with him. He tricked me into sleeping with him. But now, when I look at him, I’m remembering all those times he stuck his nose up as if I was beneath him. All the insults and sly little jabs. And not to mention the files. I see piles and piles of files and I see the smirk he always wore when he unloaded them on to me with relish.

“What’s the definition of blackmail again?” I ask bitterly.

Andrew sighs. “I don’t want to do this.”

I don’t want to do it either, but I keep it to myself. I just press my lips together and look away. I rather be at home, binging on Netflix and getting over him.

“What do you want, Andrew?” I ask as I look around the restaurant. It’s so empty. Are we even going to have lunch? I don’t see a waiter or hostess anywhere.

I’m looking at anything and everything that’s not him. If I keep trying to win the staring contest, I’m not going to come out of this ahead.

“I want you,” he says as if it’s painful for him to admit it.

Not looking at him, not seeing him say it was a mistake. His words, his voice strike a chord in me. That’s AJ’s voice. That’s what AJ would say to me.

“You want what?” I ask in confusion, looking back at him.

He scowls at first as if he’s unhappy that I’m making this more difficult or something.

I stare at his lips, watching them move, watching Andrew speak the words but hearing AJ’s voice, “I want you.”

The voice is the same, it hasn’t changed. Somehow I expected it to. It doesn’t feel right to connect the voice to Andrew’s face. Has he never tried to change the tone? Am I just that stupid?

And yet I’m affected by it.

“Why?”

“Your merlot, sir,” the waitress says, nearly giving me a heart attack. I glance up and she’s there, smiling and offering a wine bottle to Andrew for his inspection. His eyes scan the label and he gives a curt nod of his head.

The waitress pours him a glass. I want more than anything to continue our conversation. I’m dying to know what he means by wanting me. I know better, however, than to discuss such a thing in front of the waitress.

I bite my lip and inwardly urge him to hurry up. Andrew doesn’t seem to be aware that I’m waiting with baited breath. He lifts the glass and tilts it. Then he swirls the red wine around in the glass before finally taking a sip. Is he doing this on purpose, I wonder. His eyes meet mine again. I bet he’s doing it just because he likes watching me squirm.

“This will do,” he says to the waitress without looking at her.

She smiles and nods her head and finally fills my glass.

“Are you ready to order, sir?” she asks now that my glass is full.

“The usual,” he says dismissively.

The waitress nods and disappears from the corner of my vision.

Andrew has my gaze trapped again. His eyes are becoming hooded as he stares at me. I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to speak to me again.

He just ordered my meal for me and chose my drink for me as if he has the right or something.  He’s taken control and I’m vaguely aware that I let him.

There’s just too much going on inside me. I reach for my glass and take a quick sip. The wine is tart and bitter, something I’m not used to. I wrinkle my nose at it.

      That air of cocky arrogance has returned to him. “Not to your liking?” he asks, lifting his brow.

“I’ve never had red wine before,” I admit.

“Ah, yes,” he says, nodding his head. “You’re only eighteen, somehow I had forgotten. This will be our little secret.”

It’s becoming one of many.

I tip the glass back and drain the rest of the merlot. I need the liquid courage if I’m going to make it through this.

“I want you, Hailey,” Andrew says again but this time his voice is low, more like a growl.

It sends shivers down my spine and bumps prickling across my skin.

“Want me, how?” I manage to squeak out. I sound so small and silly, even to myself.

Andrew smirks and leans forward. The air between us is electric, it crackles with static. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s clearly enjoying it.

“I want you in my bed again.”

I search his eyes, they’re dark and smoldering. I can’t tell if he’s being honest or just toying with me. My body doesn’t care, it wants him. Badly.

“What game are you playing?” I say out loud. Why are you doing this to me?

Andrew frowns “I’m not playing any game.”

The liquid courage is kicking in. “Why did you catfish me?”

Now he leans back, severing our electric connection. Why do I instantly miss it?

Andrew looks away, frowning with contemplation. I wonder what’s going through his head and give him a minute by pouring myself another glass.

I nearly choke. I’m mid sip as he says, “I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you.”

I sputter and cough. I was so not expecting that. Is he being serious? I would have never guessed it from the way he treated me at the office. But then I would have never dreamed he would lure me into the dark to have sex.

Andrew acts as if he’s going to stand and come to my aid. I wave him back down and press my white napkin to my lips.

While I cough all the merlot from my lungs, he goes on, “I don’t know what it is about you. You’re not my type.” His eyes drop, he’s staring hard at my breasts that are trying to spill out of my little blue dress. “I prefer skinny blondes.” His eyes slide back up to my face. I’m staring daggers now where his gaze is feverish. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

I finish coughing and toss my napkin at him. He catches it with one hand, smirking as if he expected it.

“One night wasn’t enough, but I think I figured it out. If I have a week, an entire week with you in my bed, I’ll be able to get my fill. You’ll bore me and I’ll be able to move on and then we can put this whole thing behind us.”

“You are out of your fucking mind,” I inform Andrew and start to stand. I mean, I knew he was a bit crazy, but this… this is unbelievable. Does he really think I’ll agree to sleep with him again? Does he really think he can convince me to spend a week in his bed? After insulting me, no less.

“One hundred thousand dollars,” he says, cool and calm as if he totally expected my reaction.

“What?!” I say too shrilly.

“Two hundred thousand,” he counters.

“Dollars?” I gasp.

“Yes,” he says simply.

I plop back down to my chair from the shock of it.

“I do have it on good authority that you are fired from your position with the firm. In fact, let me make it official. Your services with Alcot and Son will no longer be needed.”

Holy shit. Is this really happening? He just offered me two hundred thousand dollars to sleep with him and fired me from my job as if it was nothing.

“Also, my father will not be offering you the loan you requested.”

This is a nightmare. This has to be a nightmare. Why is it so hard to breathe? Why can’t I catch my breath?

“My offer is very fair. It is the best offer you are going to get.”

I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Dammit, I don’t want to cry in public. I especially don’t want to cry in front of him.

“Hailey…” Andrew says, confused and concerned. I guess he’s one of those guys who doesn’t like to see a woman crying… but what did he expect? He just fired me from my job and told me I won’t be getting the loan I need. Did he expect me to take it all in stride or something? I bet he’d thought I’d be grateful he was giving me a better option.