Harlow
“Mason cheated on me, so that’s over,” my best friend Jane sighs. Jane Cuesta and I have been BFFs since we were eight, so she tells me all the embarrassing things in her life.
It makes sense because we’re almost like sisters, both in looks and personality. We have the same chestnut hair, but my locks are in long curls while she has stick-straight chocolate silk. We both have coffee-colored eyes that occasionally glint green or golden. We even developed along the same lines, with generous D-cups and a round ass.
“How did you find out though?” I wonder, as I snack on some leftover sushi.
Jane rolls her eyes.
“I asked him if he’s taking Senior Seminar next year, and he said that can’t because he nailed the professor last week.”
“What?!” I gasp.
She laughs.
“I know, right? Apparently, he thought that was the perfect moment to tell me. Well, at least I’m not wasting my summer with a cheater.”
“True,” I nod. “Be thankful for small things. But what are you doing for the summer if you’re not hanging out with Mason? I mean, it’s our last few months of freedom. Well, your last summer of freedom at least.”
She asks, “What do you mean? Why don’t you have the summer off?”
I roll my eyes.
“My dad is on my case about my future, so he created a marketing internship for me for the summer. I get to work at Kombuchaid with him and his employees. Blegh. No beach days, and no lazy days at the pool,” I pout.
“You get to work? Sounds more like you have to.”
I roll my eyes.
“I know. It’s what my dad said when I whined about it. He said, and I quote, ‘You don’t have to work. You get to work.’ It was his way of convincing me this is a great opportunity to intern at Kombuchaid while he’s touring factories around the country for the summer. That way, he won’t have to deal with me. Plus, he gets free labor too! Lucky bastard.”
Jane rolls her eyes.
“You’re the boss’s daughter. You’ll probably have everyone calling you Miss Marshall and doing whatever you want. I mean, what are they going to do, make you organize paperclips?”
I grin.
“Yeah, probably. Seriously, I have no idea, but I know that interning is going to suck. But tell me about your awesome summer plans so I can call you a bitch.”
Jane yawns.
“Nothing too awesome,” she says, “I was thinking of spending it either by the pool or maybe I’ll get a job at the Tall Pines Country Club as a porter or something. You guys are members there, right?”
I nod.
“Dad goes there all the time to use the gym.”
“I thought so,” Jane blushes. “Maybe I can get a shift in the gym.”
I stare at her.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “I thought porters usually worked out by the swimming pool.”
“Oh nothing,” she says, her face growing red. “I just meant … well, never mind.” I stare at her with confusion. Jane is usually so articulate, but right now she’s a bumbling mess. Hmm, strange. But then my friend quickly changes the subject. “If I get a job, then I guess my last summer of freedom is over, too. It’s so strange to think we’ll be graduating next year, and then we’ll have to find real jobs. Ugh.”
I nod.
“I know. And my marketing degree from Colorado State is so useless too,” I roll my eyes. “I should have done something fun like your world history degree.”
Jane grins.
“Oh yeah, super fun. Learning about all the horrible things people have done to each other throughout human history. Blood, war, and disease, baby!”
“At least you didn’t have to learn about all the shitty products people have sold each other.”
She groans.
“Ugh, you’re right.”
I sigh again, feeling put out.
“Whatever, I’m just annoyed at my dad.”
Jane perks up.
“Why?”
I yawn again.
“Like I said, I think Brent’s going to be traveling around all summer visiting Kombuchaid factories, so it’s not like he’s going to be around. It feels like he’s just trying to get rid of me.”
Jane smiles slightly.
“I’m sure your dad’s not trying to do that. But if Brent’s not your manager, then who will be? Him?”
My face warms up and I innocently ask, “Who?”
“Only Denver’s most eligible bachelor according to the Denver Star. Your father’s business partner, silly! Gray Jamison,” she giggles with a hand covering her mouth.
I did know who she was getting at, but that’s not the point. I wasn’t about to admit Gray was on my mind. Frankly, he’s probably going to be the best part of my internship, but I can’t say that because it’s utterly inappropriate. Instead, I feign indifference.
“Gross, he is so old! He’s like, forty-five, girlfriend!”
Jane shrugs.
“Who cares? He’s hot! And forty-five isn’t that old. Suzie Jensen in the next town over is dating a guy who’s sixty.”
I make a face.
“Eeew, that’s gross. Does he have white hairs sticking out of his nose?”
Jane shrugs.
“Probably, but Gray’s not like that. Gray Jamison is super hot.”
I feign indifference again.
“Yeah, but he’s my dad’s business partner, and I’ve known him since I was a baby. It’s not going to happen, Jane.”
My friend merely shrugs, unbothered.
“Kombuchaid is very successful, girly. You guys are rolling in dough, which means Gray is rolling in dough too. Plus, Gray doesn’t have a family or alimony to pay like your dad, which means he gets to keep all of his money. I mean, you guys got super rich when he and your dad founded Kombuchaid. Don’t you want a wealthy man? It’s a win-win, if I ever heard of one.”
I roll my eyes.
“Jane, don’t be so materialistic. Oh my god, this is Gray Jamison we’re talking about! Plus, it’s still inappropriate. Gray is like an uncle to me, and that would be so gross.”
But even as I say the words, a shiver runs down my spine because I’ve had a crush on him since what feels like forever. I think it started when I was about sixteen because I was reading a romance novel where the hero looked just like Gray. They had the same black hair, piercing blue eyes, and rugged build. So the hero in my book is a Scottish Highlander wearing a kilt with nothing underneath, but more than once, I’ve dreamed of seeing Gray with nothing but a kilt on. I’d love to run my hands over those huge thighs, and see them clench as I put my mouth on …
“Harlow? Hello, Earth to Harlow?” Jane asks, waving a hand in front of my face.
I snap out of it.
“What? Sorry.”
“Uh huh. I see that look on your face when I bring him up,” she teases me. “You like Gray Jamison, admit it.”
I set my sushi box aside and stick my tongue out at her.
“Stop, Jane. He’s my uncle. That’s really disgusting.”
She shakes her head.
“No, it’s not. You guys aren’t biologically related at all, and I think this summer is a great time to get to know your Uncle Gray. Especially since your dad isn’t going to be around,” she teases mercilessly.
I roll my eyes.
“Oh my god, you’re so bad. Are you done yet? I need some shut eye.”
My friend giggles.
“Trying to change the topic? Did I hit a little too close to home?” But then she yawns. “Guess I am tired,” she sighs. My buddy snuggles under the blankets and says, “Goodnight, Mrs. Jamison” before closing her eyes angelically.
I nail her with my pillow, and we have a good giggle, before we both lay down again. It’s nice to have an old-fashioned sleepover, and before long, I hear my friend’s trademark snores. We always share my king-size bed when she comes over so we can gossip ourselves to sleep. I flop on my back to face the ceiling, wondering what this summer is going to bring, and unbidden, my mind wanders dangerously close to Gray.
I try to keep him out of my mind, but with the marketing internship coming up, I’m sure I’ll see him at work. Oh hell, I hope I don’t make a fool of myself in front of him. I don’t start until next week, so it shouldn’t be bothering me now, but what do I wear? A nice, business-like dress? Or maybe a pantsuit? I don’t even own a pantsuit, come to think of it.
Then, my mind drifts to Gray again. He’s so gorgeous, with his dark hair and intense blue eyes. He must work out like a fiend because his chest is muscular, and he’s got broad shoulders that used to give me piggyback rides.
Piggyback rides? I really have gone off the deep end. I sigh to myself while staring at the ceiling. The sky mural over my bed used to bring me some sense of peace, but now, all I envision is Gray. His hot breath on my neck. His lips on my cheek. His lips down there. I’ve dreamed of him on top of me so many times, and my eyes slip closed in a sensual fantasy.
Before I know it, my hand slides into the waistband of my pajama shorts. Gray is always so in-shape, and it’s utterly delicious. He has the toned form of a volleyball player: tall, with enough muscle to fill out his custom-tailored suits, but not by any means muscularly cartoonish. My fingertips circle downwards but as they drift lower, Jane snorts in her sleep. Oh shit! I forgot my friend was here. The spell is broken, and I give up on my self-care quest, thanks to Miss Cuesta.
Besides, I’m sure Gray still thinks of me as a dorky little nuisance with pigtails and scraped knees. I was never one of those ladylike girls; I loved to play around and get dirty. My mom hated that I was never petite, graceful and lithe, like her. Her scolding always made me feel bad about myself, and to my relief, my parents divorced a long time ago.
After all, I take after my dad’s side of the family, and we like to have fun. We’re roly-poly and adventurous, with nary a fragile bone in our bodies. But as much as I would love to get to know Gray as an adult woman with sexual needs, there’s no way he will ever see me as more than the goofy, chunky girl who knocked over his birthday cake when she was ten years old. Unfortunately, it’ll never happen for me with Gray.
I snort to myself and force myself to close my eyes. But even as I begin to drift, my mind is filled with a low voice, bronzed hands, and a pair of blue eyes that follow every sway of my hips. With one last sigh, I breathe his name like a prayer, and then my mind shuts off for the night.