F*CK Reality: Take One Page 4

  Wiping my eyes, looking out into the parking lot in front of us, I take a deep, but not so calming breath.

  “You thought he was the one?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, shrugging. “Maybe. I thought if not the one, he was a good stand-in for the one.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Pity coming from Addie burns. She doesn’t do compassion. My best friend is fierce, so much more so than me.

  “I say we go to Cub’s Saturday night and make some noise. I mean, Sam’s getting married. I think we’re compelled to show her a good time while she celebrates.”

  “When did we all grow up?” I question softly, undoing my seatbelt and gathering my purse. “Really, because I miss playing with dolls.”

  Addie laughs. “We didn’t play with dolls. We played with trucks, remember? That’s how you broke your arm.”

  “Yeah,” I remember, “don’t remind me.”

  “You swore you’d fit in Jesse Kimble’s yellow Tonka.” She giggles. “Face first in the dirt, Brooke.”

  “I cried all the way home while you all laughed.”

  “You’re still mad about that, aren’t you?”

  “Very,” I pout.

  Opening her car door, Addie wittingly suggests, “Let’s go rub some food on those wounds. I’ll buy dessert.”

  “Okay,” I agree, slamming my own door shut and pinning her with a dirty look. “Extra chocolate, too.”

  “You’ll need it because you should know...” she pauses, long enough to smile, “it’s possible my mom did give Brad Woodbury your number.”

  Damn it.

  Chapter Three

  My friends dwell in very low places.

  Brock

  -

  It’s been two days since my father sat me down and laid out my life’s future plan without caring what I thought of it. Two days since I sat with his company lawyer with a contract in my hand, stating what I have to do to obtain his company as part of my inheritance.

  When I called Drew to explain how lunch with Dad had gone, he didn’t sound as surprised as I figured he would. It almost seemed as if he knew this was coming even before I did. Still, I’m struggling to process the notion I may lose all I worked for through college, as well as most of my adult life, to procure.

  In many ways, I understand my dad’s position. He has a lot to lose if I take over his company and fail. I don’t blame him. On the other hand, it would be nice to know I was being given a fair chance to succeed.

  “We said no girls were ever invited to poker, Nick,” Drew blasts from his place next to me at the table, at the same time putting his cigar in the ashtray to his right. “Why did you bring her here?”

  Nick, our mutual friend, the one Tate, my little sister, hates more than Drew, is also the one who just broke up with his longtime girlfriend. He’s been sleeping his way through a variety of women he usually picks up from strip clubs or bars. Dallas is full of both, and he frequents them often.

  “She’ll be leaving as soon as the game starts. There’s nothing wrong with stopping over to say hi, right?”

  The currently indisposed woman here tonight is definitely one he met at a strip club. Her spray-on tan is orange in color. Her oversized chest and platinum blonde hair all scream ‘Candy Land’ or ‘Shasta Sherry’. She’s hot, I’ll give her this, but definitely not my type—if I had a type.

  “Someone wanna grab the other table and bring it in?” Cody invites while entering the room we all play poker in. His hands are full of chips, beer, and cigarettes.

  Cody Miles is another mutual friend from high school, but one we were late in finding. Like women, believe it or not, men tend to run in cliques as well, only we’re much less dramatic.

  “Your girl is still in my bathroom. She’s been in there for fifteen minutes,” Cody informs Nick. “What the fuck is she doing? I gotta piss.”

  Nick shrugs. “No idea.”

  “Right, well, game starts in twenty. Can you go find her and help her find her way out?”

  Nick grunts and mumbles under his breath, but soon stands and wordlessly excuses himself from the table.

  Drew takes a drink of his beer, doing a shit job of hiding the smile he’s got working behind the bottle.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I question, surveying him with caution.

  “Thinking is all,” he casually replies, setting his drink down on the coaster next to him.

  Pulling out our wallets, we all lay our cash on the table. Drew, me, Cody, Mark, and Nick have the process of this night down by routine.

  “One hundred.” I toss my twenties at Cody so he can exchange them for chips.

  Drew does the same, but states, “I hope someone loses their bet, ’cause the dare I have tonight is gonna be a big one.”

  “Like your ‘teepee Mary Williams’s car’ wasn’t huge?” Mark laughs, knowing damn well that bet was a walk in the park.

  Nick had Mary’s car covered before the sun even started to rise. The rain that came early that morning, covering the paper and plastering it to the paint, was icing on the cake.

  Turning in place and looking at me with curiosity, Drew smiles, and it’s in a way I don’t fucking trust or like at all.

  “Think bigger,” Drew tells the table. “That teepee shit was a joke anyway. I wasted a good dare.”

  “You did,” Mark reminds him. “I told you to have Nick kiss the pastor’s daughter.”

  Drew gasps. “She was twelve. Since when do we make dares that’ll end us up in jail?”

  Mark laughs, pointing to Cody, where they both say in unison, “Can I smell your car?”

  I laugh at Drew’s expense, remembering that very night well. Drew lost his hands at poker quickly and ended up placing in a dare to win his money back. Mark and Cody conspired before the rest of us had gotten here, and had already planned to set Drew up. It was a bullshit play, but the dumbass fell for their scam.

  At the time, Mark had an aunt who had been visiting from out of town, staying at the Sheridan Suites. Somehow, they convinced my stupid friend to steal her rental car, already knowing cops wouldn’t be called since they filled in his Aunt Midge prior to it. All in fun, she thought it was a great idea.

  Turns out, Drew may hang with friends who know cars, but he most certainly doesn’t have a clue about them himself.

  In short, he approached the wrong woman who had just pulled into the hotel parking lot. She’d been driving a car he thought was the one he was supposed to take. When he got too close and she went to strike him, he cowered. Once Drew calmed her, he excused himself by stating, “I was just going to ask if I could smell your car.”

  “So fucked up,” Drew mumbles as we laugh. “Too far. That dare went too fucking far.”

  Cody reels in his laughter then takes a seat. “As soon as Nick loses that woman, I’ll need to check my prescription meds. If they’re missing, she took ’em. What the fuck is he doing with her?”

  Reliving the ultimatum given by my father, I’m all about watching from the sidelines as my friends enjoy the life I wish I still could.

  Drew shrugs, but I answer. “He’s having fun. Leave him alone.”

  “He said he may be getting laid off at the plant,” Drew informs us. “If that happens, he’ll move. You know he will. Nick hates Dallas.”

  Nick doesn’t love his job at the well-known and well-developed automobile plant downtown. He does it for the money, not the rewards of sorting parts. He quit college his second year to come home and take care of his mom after his dad passed away. He’s made no secret of his desire to get out of Dallas since coming back.

  “He didn’t mention anything the other night,” I admit, feeling a little slighted.

  We’re not women; we don’t share every miniscule detail of our lives. But being informed that one of my best friends could soon be out of a job would have been nice to know.

  “He’s nervous, Brock. He’s thirty-years-old. No woman, no job, and no money.”

  “So h
e’s you,” I point out accusingly. “You have none of those either.”

  Drew scowls, but it’s not serious. He knows he’s a lazy son of a bitch, but he also knows his father has money, and eventually all of it will pass to him. Unfortunately for me, I’ll be in apparent dire financial jeopardy if I don’t marry.

  “Do you have anything stronger?” I ask, aiming my question to Cody. The beer I brought isn’t helping to settle my nerves.

  “Top shelf, in the cabinet next to the fridge. Help yourself. No clue how long it’s been there, but you’re welcome to it.”

  “Check on Nick and what’s her face while you’re in there,” Drew calls to my back.

  Making my way into the kitchen, I flip on the light and go in search of the liquor. Three days ago, I didn’t have a care in the world. Before my stepdad ruined any plans I had for my future, I would’ve just been another guy hanging with his friends. Now I’m a mess and trying to find anything to help numb my life’s burdens.

  “What the fuck?” Nick hisses after he opens the bathroom door, zipping his fly. “Shit, you scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know anyone was back here.”

  My eyebrows lift in surprise. I shouldn’t be shocked to see what I do; my friends are nuts.

  “Don’t mind me. I’m just gettin’ a drink.”

  I lift the bottle in the air and do nothing to hide my smirk as his new flavor of the week comes out of the bathroom nearly naked.

  Yep, definitely a stripper.

  Her hair has that just fucked, mussed look. Being that she’s not wearing a bra, her tank top does nothing to hide her arousal, and her small shorts hang low enough that it’s safe to say she’s not wearing underwear. She’s also giggling incessantly as she grabs Nick’s arm and walks up to stand at his side.

  He ignores me and takes her mouth with his. Before I can look away, I see tongues in duel.

  Oh God. Too much.

  “Hurry your ass up,” I interrupt. “The boys are ready.”

  At the same time I turn to walk out, Nick pushes the stripper out of his arms and states, “Don’t lose tonight, Brock.”

  I stop at the door and narrow my eyes, knowing he can’t see. I heard what he said. It’s not so much his words I don’t like, but the sketchy tone he used while saying them. Rehashing Drew’s peculiar comment from earlier, I turn to face him.

  Stripper has her hand down the front of his pants and the other up his shirt. She’s standing behind him, looking at me with hunger.

  Fuck no.

  Man rule number one: Unless three started the party, another member cannot be included after. Not that I would consider touching her anyway, but still. Rules are rules.

  Jesus, maybe we’re more like women than we’d like to believe.

  “What did you say?” I question, holding the bottle of Beam in one hand and a small kitchen glass in the other.

  “Drew’s hoping like hell you lose tonight, and you’ll bet back in with a dare.”

  “Why?”

  Nick shrugs, but his casual façade lies for him.

  “Tell me,” I clip.

  “Just don’t lose tonight,” he says again, pulling the woman’s hand from his pants and positioning her in front of him.

  Nick’s irritated. The man just had sex with a semi-hot stripper in a friend’s bathroom, and yet he’s annoyed.

  My friends are nuts.

  “Whatever,” I snap first, then nod to her. “Get Candy outta here, and let’s play some cards.”

  Candy’s head rears back, her nose scrunches, and the rest of her face wrinkles. Not a good look.

  “Who the hell is Candy?” she shrieks, her voice scraping my nerves with every word. “My name is Tawnya. With a W.”

  “Of course it is,” I mutter to myself before leaving the two fuck buddies alone.

  Two hours after Nick has sent Candy on her way and the cards are finally being dealt consistently, I sit back and revel in the slow burn of whiskey making its way into my system. The guys are all at ease, bantering back and forth. I’m trying. All I can hear, though, are the echoing words of my father’s disappointment.

  The way he said them.

  The way I heard them.

  The way he meant them.

  “I’m out,” I direct, pushing the rest of my cards in to fold. “Out of cards. Out of chips.”

  “Not out of time, though, right?” Drew attentively questions. He’s looking at Nick, not me. “You’re not leavin’ yet, are you?”

  Shaking my head, I answer, “No, why?”

  “Because you still have a dare to play. If you think you can win, I mean,” Drew baits.

  What the fuck are these guys playing at?

  A small string of curses come from Mark across the table as he sits next to Nick, but I can’t hear what he says after. The added mumbles from Drew at my side aren’t helping the tension at the table.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “You in or out?” Cody casually questions, holding the cards in his hand with impatience.

  He’s not buying into whatever bullshit the others are playing at either. His focus is rightfully on the game. With five hundred dollars on the line, he’s always this serious.

  Convinced I can win and beat these bitches at their own game, I sit up in my seat and declare, “I’ll use my dare. Stack me in.”

  “You know the rules, right?” Cody asks, completely focused as he stacks my soon-to-be chips neatly in front of him. “One dare buys you back in for one hundred. The dare is in play only if you become the low man at the table at any time. No denying whatever the dare is or you’re suspended from playing again for six months.”

  “I got it, Cody,” I snap. “This isn’t new. Stop talking and give me my chips.”

  Nick lights another cigar. Generally, he has but one to make him feel manly while playing cards, then stops. For whatever reason, tonight he’s had three.

  What the hell?

  “Good luck, bro,” Cody comments, shoving the chips in front of where I’m seated.

  “You know...” Drew starts, accepting the cards dealt to him and looking at them in study with a haughty look on his face.

  If only to wipe the smug look off his face, I appease him with, “What do I know?”

  “That show is holding auditions in Dallas next week.”

  “What show?”

  Nick holds his cards in front of him in obvious contemplation. When Drew doesn’t answer, Nick does. “The marry me show, or some shit.”

  Drew laughs. “Marry a...whatever it is. Last year it was a plumber, remember?”

  “What the hell are you two ladies talking about?” Mark asks, throwing his cards in and giving up his ante. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Yes, you have,” Nick chimes in. “It’s that Matt guy’s pet project. He’s the puke who hosts it. Hot girls, bachelor...”

  My fingers tense, crushing the cards in my hand as I’m holding tight and hoping to fuck they aren’t thinking what I’m afraid they are.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Mark shrugs. “Don’t watch much TV anymore. Don’t have time.”

  Drew, happy to explain, says, “I’ve got time, and those women are crazy hot. All of them are hoping to be the next television bride.”

  “Kinda sad,” Cody says quietly, obviously not having a clue as to what’s playing out. “A woman would marry someone she hardly knows for what? Fame?”

  “Not this time. Fame isn’t this season’s premise,” Drew answers. He tosses in his cards as well, leaving me and Nick in a standoff. “This time it’s marry a millionaire, if you can believe that.”

  Surprised by the notion, Mark’s eyes cut to mine. “Don’t you gotta be single and never married to go on the show? Am I right?”

  Nodding once, Drew refuses to look my way.

  These bastards are thinking exactly what I was afraid they were.

  “Don’t even go there,” I hiss in my best friend’s direction.

  Turning in his seat, Drew pins me with the
most superficial, annoying smile the bastard can muster.

  He leans his chair in my direction and says, “Then don’t fucking lose the game, jackass. This is exactly where I’m going.”

  Slamming my cards down before it’s my turn, which as a general rule you never do, I push my ante and bet to the center in frustration. I had a pair of eights, which would normally get me a win, but I’ve lost my concentration.

  “That’s a fucked up dare. We don’t ever pull that shit,” I clip, staring at each player in turn.

  Mark’s mouth is hanging open, probably because he knows he’s won the pot, and it’s a big one. Cody’s jaw is ticking at the disrespect I’ve just shown to our friendly game.

  Drew and Nick are smirking.

  Nick clicks his tongue against his teeth while shaking his head, then states, “A dare is a dare. You bought in for it already. Not to mention, little brother, you’ve played a hand.”

  “Come on, Brock.” Drew tries to soothe by slapping me on the shoulder. “You have nothing to lose, right?”

  “Bullshit,” I counter.

  Drew looks clearly offended. “You didn’t think it was bullshit when that woman nearly beat me to a pulp with her big, fat purse. Why’s this bullshit?”

  “Because it is,” I aimlessly claim.

  I have a fuck of a lot more to lose than anyone at this table.

  My freedom, which I guess has already been challenged given the contract I’ve just signed for my father.

  My dignity, which if I don’t marry, will cause me to lose the position at Merritt Media. It’s one I’ve worked hard for and will eventually deserve.

  Not to mention, I risk losing my friends if these bastards continue to push me further.

  “I won’t lose,” I tell them with confidence as I stack my remaining chips neatly in front of me.

  After, when no one has anything more to say, I get up from the table and head to the kitchen for a breath of fresh air.

  By the time I come back, the others have finished another hand and are now sitting around, bullshitting as they wait for me.

  “Ready?” Nick queries once he notices I’m back in.

  Taking my seat, I adjust my posture and abruptly return, “Deal the cards.”