Sparrow
Normally, I’d be completely fine with attending an event where I’m required to wear a nice suit and flash my charming smile. I’m good at it. I actually like it, unlike my brothers.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I’m buzzing with anger and frustration. I am stuck in fucking Boston of all places. Bryant wants me to attend some real estate dinner and bid on some properties. Basically, he wants me to rub elbows with people in the biz, learn a thing or two, and then somehow use it against his enemies.
Maybe Sully was right. This is bullshit. Our lives. How we’re chained to the Morellis, specifically Bryant, and have no hope of doing anything else.
Rather than sulk like my brother would over what I can’t do anything about right now, I focus on my task at hand.
Schmooze.
Sully will smooth out things with Landry, hopefully, and what he doesn’t fix, I’ll manage myself.
After dropping my car off with a valet driver, I make my way into the building that’s bustling with well-dressed people. This is my element. I was born to party with the elite. I’d like to think I get that from Mom. I clean up the best of the three of us and can fake a smile that gets me damn near whatever I want. It doesn’t hurt that I’m wearing one of my most expensive bespoke Tom Ford charcoal suits. Sully says these pants give me a David Beckham ass. I think he’s just being a dick when he says it, but I take it as a compliment. The only thing I’m missing is something lovely hanging off my arm. A few women try to catch my gaze, as though in tune with my thoughts, but I’m not interested. I’m too distracted to flirt. Besides, the only arm candy I want is her. I try not to imagine Landry in a sexy, fitted dress because these David Beckham pants don’t have room for a ten-inch boner.
“Ford?”
A tall, broad guy with fuckboy blond hair and a goofy-ass grin saunters my way. I stare at him blankly because I don’t know this asshole. He’s certainly not anyone I’d willingly associate with. But he knows our alias, though.
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t tell me you’d be going to this shit.” He laughs and smacks the side of my arm. “Dude, you were right about Landry.”
I quickly connect the dots.
Landry?
This has to be Ty fucking Constantine.
“I’m always right,” I grunt, playing along. “What happened?”
“I texted her. We’re going out on a date next week. Without her daddy.”
“Her dad’s a real asshole, yeah?”
“Shit, yeah.” He leans in and whispers conspiratorially. “He still didn’t come into the office today. When he got jumped, they really must have fucked him up.”
“Hmph.”
He smacks my arm again and I swear to fuck I’m going to smack him back if he does it again. “What crawled up your ass and died today? Usually you’re not so grumpy.”
I blink at him in confusion. What kind of act has Scout of all people been putting on?
“Is it the girl you were telling me about?” he asks, frowning. “She still avoiding you?”
Did he really tell her about Ash?
“Always,” I grunt out.
“You’re just going to have to get her alone. Make her hear you out.”
“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She’s married.”
His eyes bug out of his head. “No shit? Man, you didn’t tell me she was married. You really do have it bad if you’re pining over a married woman.”
“We have history.” I shrug and cast my gaze into the crowd, my mind on other people who aren’t Ash. “Kind of hard to forget what we had.”
“You’ll get her back if it’s meant to be.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I can help. Just tell me what to do.”
Ask your cousin if my brother can have his wife so he can torture her some more. Can you do that, Ty boy?
“Thanks, man,” I say instead. “I need a drink.”
Ty winks at me. “Follow me. I’ve already scoped out the bar.”
He saunters away, weaving through the crowd. I follow after him, growing more and more irritated as the seconds tick by. When he reaches the line, he turns to regard me, studying me intently.
“You’re not limping. Knees feeling better today?”
Dammit.
“Comes and goes,” I lie. “I can hide it if I have enough oxy.”
“Oxy?” His eyes widen. “Seriously? That shit’ll fuck you up.”
How does Scout put up with this guy? He’s chatty and too damn friendly. Everything I say he has to inspect it under a microscope.
“So,” I mumble, changing the subject, “where will you take Croft’s daughter for your date?”
He frowns like he doesn’t like me steering the conversation away from my non-existent drug problem, but indulges me anyway because, apparently, he’s a golden boy in need of a friend.
Hell, you have to be damn near desperate to befriend Scout.
“At first,” he says, leaning in, “I was thinking some place romantic. Five-star restaurant or whatever. Carriage ride. I don’t know. Something fancy.”
“You decided against that?” I lift a brow in question.
“I don’t know…I thought maybe I’d just take her somewhere low-key. A movie. Maybe the arcade. Fill up on junk food. The girl seems like she could unwind a little.”
No shit.
Landry is wound tight with a frozen stick up her ass. She’d probably really enjoy the movies. But with someone like me. Not this fuckboy. I could get her to relax.
“I think the movie’s a good idea,” I admit, though it pains me to do so.
I have to play nice with this guy. Part of the gig. It’s just better when Scout’s dealing with this part and I’m dealing with Landry.
He continues to ramble about all his date ideas. A bunch of shit to make her swoon. By the time it’s our turn in line, I’m ready to smack my hand over his mouth so he’ll shut the hell up.
Ty orders our drinks and pays. I take the dark liquid, knocking it back eagerly. The burn scalds my throat, but it feels good.
“You straight chugged that whiskey, man.” He shakes his head. “You sure that’s a good idea with the oxy?”
I’m about to answer him when I notice a familiar face in the crowd. Another goddamn Constantine. Thankfully, it’s not Winston, but it is one of his mini-me brothers. Perry. If he sees me chatting it up with his cousin, our cover will be blown. I have to get the fuck out of here. Bryant can kiss my ass.
“You’re right,” I mutter, turning my back to Perry as not to be seen and blow my cover with Ty. “I’m not feeling so hot. I’m going to head to my hotel.”
“You’ll be here tomorrow night too, right? This event is two days. Please say I won’t be doing this shit alone.” He gives me the puppy dog eyes. “Dude, please.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll text you later!”
Ignoring him, I stalk out of the building. I made an appearance. It’s time to get the fuck out of here.
* * *
I’m buzzed.
Not from the one drink I had at the event, but the three or four or seven more I’ve had since I arrived at my hotel. The bar is dark and swanky. I’ve been able to drink away my frustrations in relative peace.
The walk back to my room is a blur. It takes a few times to get the keycard into the slot. Eventually, I make it inside. I strip out of my suit and climb onto the bed in just my boxers.
I want to talk to her.
It’s not fair that Scout somehow fucked this up for me.
There’s a missed text on my phone from Sully that says he thinks he fixed things. I’m not convinced. I need to hear it with my own ears. But she blocked me.
It takes intense focus, but I find her number on my cell and then use the hotel phone to dial her. I’m not even sure if she’s awake this late, well after midnight now.
“Hello?”
The breathiness of her voice speaks straight to my cock. I close my eyes, imagining her sexy little mouth.
“Hello?” she says again. “Who is this?”
“Sparrow.”
“What? I can’t hear you. You’re mumbling. Who is this?”
“Laundry, it’s me.”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “Chevy?”
I grin, imagining her shock. “Yep.”
“I blocked you from calling me.”
“And I’m calling you to tell you to un-block me.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Little bit.” I scrub my palm over my face. “I miss you.”
“Miss me? Ford, I just saw you. You literally stole a kiss before you left.”
Fucking Sully.
“That wasn’t me,” I slur. “That was my loser alter-ego.”
“Are you jealous…of yourself?”
“Yep. I also hate parts of myself.”
“You have problems, Chevy.”
“And you have answers to my problems, Laundry.”
“You confuse me. You’re never the same person.”
“Can you un-block me?”
“Fine.”
“FaceTime me.”
“Okay.”
I don’t want to hang up, but I have to. She makes me wait a long five minutes before she calls me back. I answer on the first ring. Her pretty face is lit by a bedside lamp. The only light I have is coming into the room from the bathroom.
“Hey.”
She smirks. “Hey.”
“I wish you were in this bed with me right now.”
“Ford…”
“Don’t call me that.” I close my eyes. “Call me Chevy or…” Sparrow.
“Or what?”
“If you weren’t so stressed about life or whatever it is that has you wound up all the time, what would you do? You’re about as interested in college as I am. It won’t take them long to figure out we suck and never do our assignments.”
She scoffs. “I do my assignments.”
“Liar.”
“I need to do my assignments. I’ve just been distracted. I’ll catch up.”
“Maybe we should have a study date.” I grin at her. “Naked study date.”
“You’re a brat.”
“Seriously, babe. What would you do?”
She gnaws on her bottom lip so hard it’s a wonder she doesn’t draw blood. “I try not to think about it.”
What kind of answer is that?
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t have a future.” The bitterness in her tone can’t be hidden. “I’ll end up marrying some rich, successful guy and popping out a bunch of babies. The end.”
“Sounds like a lot of sex, though.”
She smiles even though I can tell she doesn’t want to. “I’d do something with my hands.”
“Hand jobs?”
“Oh my God. I’m hanging up.”
I laugh and then laugh harder when she sticks her tongue out. It’s so cute. If I were there, I’d suck it into my mouth and make her forget she was mad.
“When my mom was alive, she used to do all the floral arrangements for Dad’s parties. I loved helping her. We’d spend hours working with exotic flowers. It’s when we’d have our best talks.” She smiles wistfully. “I miss her.”
“I miss my mom, too.”
“She’s gone?”
“Yeah.” I close my eyes and then sigh. “So, a florist, huh? I could see you in a cute little shop cutting flowers.”
“It’s not exactly dreaming big,” she mutters. “What about you?”
I shrug. “I don’t have choices either. I’m my uncle’s bitch.”
“His bitch?”
“I run errands and shit for him.”
“He’s in the mafia?”
We both laugh.
“I wish. That shit would be entertaining. But, nah. I just go to parties and do odd jobs. It’s boring and pointless. My brother hates him for it.”
“Are you and your brother close? What’s his name?”
“Sullivan. And we’re close as brothers can be. Still, he’s a fucking prick most of the time.”
“My little sister can be a monster, but I’d never admit that to anyone but you.”
God, I wish I could kiss her right now.
“So?” she says. “What would you do if you didn’t have this uncle of yours?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t allowed myself to think that far ahead. At one time I thought I’d follow in my mom’s footsteps. Become a doctor. But…shit happened. I just don’t think about it now.”
“Maybe you’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe.”
“I should go to bed now,” she whispers. “It’s late and your eyes keep drooping.”
“Send me a picture and I’ll get off the phone.”
She rolls her eyes but nods. “Fine. I’ll send it after you hang up.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Laundry.”
“Bye, Chevy.”
She hangs up. I stare at the screen until a picture comes through text. In the photo, she’s smiling at me. It’s sweet and adorable. Rolling onto my side, I take a selfie and send it back to her. She sends me some sleeping emojis and I take the hint.
I fall asleep staring at her face and then I have dreams about her sassy mouth.