Bad For You Read online

  I’d been back on my home base for less than twenty-four hours just to get some sleep and sign my name on a million dotted lines. Then I’d climbed into my favorite car to make the drive back to Raleigh. The other two cars I’d left behind.

  The wheels of bureaucracy had never moved as fast as they had to make sure I could leave when I did. There were still some i’s to dot and t’s to cross, but nothing I couldn’t take care of from here.

  Brittany’s glittering blue eyes smiled at me from the picture. I didn’t even know if she’d stuck around. She never used to have any plans to leave here, but that didn’t mean she never had. Still, I couldn’t help wondering if I would run into her now that I was back and, if I did, how I would feel about it.

  It would definitely be interesting, though. Might even make coming back feel good. Who knows?

  What I did know was that Brittany Cleaver hadn’t been part of my reasons for coming home, but if she was still here, and if she was still single, she’d sure provide a heck of a reason to enjoy staying.

  2

  BRITTANY

  I held back a sigh as I listened to Beckett going over our schedule for the week. This dinner felt more like a staff meeting than a date. That’s what you get for dating the principal at the school where you work, I guess.

  Beckett James was a good principal, but not such a great boyfriend. His dark eyes were serious on mine, his brown hair slicked back in an attempt to hide the gray strands weaved in between his thinning locks.

  As I stared at him from across the table, I tried to remember what had attracted me to him in the first place. We hadn’t been dating for long, but whatever spark there might’ve been was already gone.

  He wasn’t a bad guy. I just didn’t think he was the one. Then again, I’d already cut loose the only man I’d ever thought might be the elusive one. Since he hadn’t come back to me, I supposed I’d better take the advice of that nineties singer and accept I’d loved something, let it go, and that was how I was supposed to have known whether it had really ever been mine in the first place.

  Whether he had ever really been mine. He hadn’t been. Simple as that. Which was why, so many years later, I was still on the hunt for a man who would make me feel even half the things Tristin had.

  It wasn’t going well for me. Obviously.

  On the other hand, Beckett had probably been pretty cool himself at eighteen. Maybe I would’ve felt that way about him now if it had been him I’d fallen in love with right out of the gates.

  But hearts were stupid things that way. Regardless of how many times I’d told myself that my memories of what I’d had with Tristin were overexaggerated, I just couldn’t seem to get the silly organ to agree with me.

  While I hadn’t dated all that much since breaking up with Tristin, I was an eternal optimist when it came to romance. I wanted it all. The big white wedding, the cute, chubby-cheeked babies, and the happily ever after with the man of my dreams. I refused to believe that I’d lost my chance of having all that at eighteen.

  There was just no way that could be possible. Teenagers were even stupider than hearts, and teenage hearts? Those were the most idiotic things on the planet. They were ruled by hormones and angst caused by things I couldn’t even remember.

  Man, am I glad I’m done with that phase. Godspeed to all the poor teenaged souls out there who still need to get through it. In any event, Tristin couldn’t have been my one and only chance at true love. It was probably only because he’d been my first love that he’d become the yardstick.

  Beckett cleared his throat and frowned deeply at me, looking like he was about to scold me for drifting off in class. “Brittany? Are you listening to me? I said we need to discuss the details of the fundraiser for the school’s new library.”

  I nodded, perking up even though a part of me still expected him to give me detention for zoning out. Oooo, detention could be fun if—

  I stopped that thought in its tracks. Sex with Beckett was mediocre at best, and he definitely wouldn’t be into doing something adventurous like going at it at school.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I said instead of proposing what had just crossed my mind. It was a school night anyway. Even if I could somehow convince him to give it a try, sex was off the table completely for this date.

  Every time I’d tried to change his mind, he’d looked at me like I was an alien and reminded me that we had to be up early. Ah, well. Those are the breaks.

  He wasn’t wrong about us having to wake up early. A stern expression crossed his features. “I’m counting on you and all the other teaching staff to contribute something to the auction.”

  “Oh, I already am,” I said, grinning at the thought of it. “I’m donating a special cake I’m baking. It’s taken me years to perfect the recipe, and everyone always seems to like it.”

  His less than thrilled expression crushed my excitement on the spot. “I’m sure the cake will fetch a couple of bucks, but I hope other people donate more high-ticket items. You know, ones that will actually help with the renovation of the library.”

  I stared at him. Wow, condescending much?

  As it was, I was stretching my budget to allow for some of the more decadent ingredients I needed for the cake. He, of all people, should know that none us teaching staff could afford to donate diamonds or trips to Paris. Or whatever else he has in mind for those high-ticket items.

  My disappointment lingered for the rest of the dinner. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t shake it.

  “I’m sure there will be many wonderful donations,” I said, my tone appeasing.

  Sometimes I hated myself for kowtowing around him, but in this moment, he didn’t feel much like my boyfriend. He was very much in principal mode, and I loved my job. I wouldn’t jeopardize it by pissing him off over something like this.

  Seemingly satisfied with my answer, he nodded and speared a piece of asparagus with his fork. I glanced down at my own bundle of asparagus and gingerly took a bite.

  Beckett always made reservations at the same higher-end restaurant in one of the nicer areas of town. I didn’t mind asparagus, but a grilled chicken breast and grilled vegetables for every date was getting to me.

  I was a deep-fried girl. A hamburger and fries girl. All the simple things really. During the week, I tried to eat healthily, but dear Lord, it wouldn’t have killed them to put just one item on the menu that required butter or real oil to make—none of this coconut oil stuff really did the trick for me.

  Enough internal whining, I ordered myself. I’d agreed to this date and just because he’d been an ass about my cake and acted like this was a meeting didn’t mean I couldn’t make an effort.

  “Did you see there’s a trivia night at the Irish Pub next week?” I asked, referencing a place my best friend and I loved grabbing a drink at over the weekends.

  Beckett flashed me that signature frown of his again. “No, but I hardly think it’s appropriate for us to attend. We can’t be seen gallivanting about town like children, Brittany. We’re professionals, and we need to embody the school’s ethos in everything we do.”

  “I didn’t say anything about gallivanting. It’s just a trivia night. We could make up a team and have a bit of fun. It could be nice, and it doesn’t have to get rowdy.”

  His lips compressed into a thin line. “The answer is no. If it got out that elementary school staff were seen drinking at a pub, it would be very bad for the school’s reputation.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Beck, but—”

  “Beckett,” he corrected me instantly. “My given name is Beckett. Not some cheapened, shortened version of it.”

  “Right.” I didn’t roll my eyes. I’d made that mistake before, and sitting through the lecture it always sparked just wasn’t worth it. “Anyway, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not like the media follow us around. No one really cares what we do on our own time as long we don’t get into trouble.”

  “Preposterous.” He snorted, sha
king his head at me like I was an unruly child. “The media might not hound us, but the community certainly watches us.”

  “The Irish Pub isn’t even in our school’s district,” I said, not arguing but merely pointing out a fact. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, though. I understand. Shelley and I will find someone to take your spot on the team.”

  “Shelley might be your friend, but she’s also a member of my staff. As are you. I don’t need to remind you of the standards at which I hold my staff, do I?”

  “Nope, I’m all good.” I forced a smile. “You have nothing to worry about. It’ll just be a quiet trivia night. The community won’t even know we were there.”

  Not that they’d care, but hey. If I knew Beckett, and I did, he’d spend the rest of the night droning on about it given the opportunity.

  He gave me a tight nod, clearly not happy but also smart enough not to think that he could prohibit me from going. “It’s getting late. Finish your dinner. I’d better get you home.”

  “Of course.” I sneaked a peek at my watch.

  It was barely eight o’clock, but he’d be in bed by nine. Deciding to follow his example and stick to topics usually covered in meetings, I steered the conversation back to the charity event we’d be hosting this weekend.

  “About the fundraiser, a few of the children in my class have offered to perform a little skit. We could practice this week and—”

  He interrupted me again. “Absolutely not. It would be tacky to subject our donors to a performance from children.”

  “We’re an elementary school,” I said slowly. “I think our donors are likely expecting there to be children involved.”

  “I’ve arranged for a performance from the orchestra at the theater over on Main. That should suffice.”

  “I’m sure it will be lovely.” The orchestra was great, but I was the one who was going to have to dash the hopes of the kids who’d wanted to perform.

  There were quite a few of them, actually. Across all the different grades. They wanted to do their bit for the fundraiser, but I’d have to make sure we got them involved in some other way.

  Beckett and I finished our meals mostly in silence, split the check, and then he drove me home. When we pulled up in front of my house, he gave me a kiss that left me feeling thoroughly underwhelmed and eased back onto the street before I’d even made it to my front door.

  I’d been thinking for a few weeks that it was time to end our relationship, but I’d held off because I didn’t want to bolt before I’d given it a proper chance. All the men I’d dated had left me feeling equally underwhelmed, if I was being honest with myself.

  All except one. Tristin Ramsey. The boy no one could measure up to. The boy I’d been forced to end things with fifteen long years ago.

  It was crazy that I still thought about him every time I got to this stage of a relationship. The stage when I realized that it would be better to part ways.

  Maybe all these crappy relationships I find myself in are payback for the way I broke up with Tristin. Some kind of karma for past wrongs.

  Not for the first time, I regretted breaking his heart and my own right along with it. It didn’t matter that I’d been forced to do it. I still hated myself for having done it.

  After taking a shower and brushing my teeth, I sank into bed and turned out my bedside lamp with my thoughts still on him. I lay back and burrowed in under my comforter, and when I closed my eyes, I saw his face with perfect clarity in my mind.

  No matter how many years it had been, I remembered every single thing about that face. From the way his dark colored hair used to frame his handsome features to the way his eyes would light up whenever he saw me, all the way to the flush that would spread across his high, chiseled cheekbones whenever he got turned on.

  I hadn’t forgotten anything about him, and I didn’t think I ever would. Not when I cherished the memories we’d made together with everything in me. Often when I lay in bed at night, just like tonight, I wondered what it would be like to get a second chance with him.

  It was impossible, but my romantic little heart still wondered. I couldn’t help it, and as I drifted off to sleep, I dreamed about what things might have been like if I’d never buckled under the pressure of leaving him at all.

  3

  TRISTIN

  The mirror in my walk-in closet took up the upper half of the entire back wall. Rows of drawers and shelving underneath it held ties, cufflinks, watches, belts, and even a stand boasting a variety of pens.

  Most of it was new. When I’d arrived home from the office after my first day there, my old stuff had been replaced with a new wardrobe and all the accessories to go along with it.

  Several items from my old life remained, but everything from my high school days had been packed away somewhere. All I had left of the guy I’d been for the last decade and a half were the uniforms that had come in and the casual clothes I’d arrived with.

  As I shrugged into the jacket of my brand-new, custom-made tuxedo, I stared at my reflection in the massive mirror. For a guy who’d gotten used to shaving in whatever would reflect back at me, it was a little freaky to have not only the mirror on the back wall, but another full-length mirror mounted on the closed door behind me. I wasn’t sure I liked seeing myself from all these different angles.

  It was even weirder for me to think that there had been a time when I hadn’t thought it was freaky at all. I used to spend hours in here before school, making sure my hair was just right or that my outfit was “cool.”

  How times have changed. I couldn’t wait to get out of here now. There definitely wouldn’t be any repeat performances of the hours I’d spent in here previously.

  The only reason I was even still in here now that I was dressed was because the tuxedo had to go with all the trimmings tonight. My shoes shone like they’d been polished to within an inch of their lives—which they most likely had been. Cufflinks bearing my initials were next, along with a Jaeger-LeCoultre watch and a pale blue pocket square.

  Critically examining my appearance, I decided it was good enough and headed downstairs. My mother insisted that attending a charity event with her was the perfect first public appearance for me as the CEO of American Aviation.

  For my first official act as the head of the company, I was attending a fundraiser. I wondered if it was some kind of omen about my tenure in the office my father and grandfather had occupied before me. That their contributions had been to build the company up, and mine would end up being to give all the money away.

  On second thought, we could afford to keep a couple of medium-sized countries going for a few decades. I probably wouldn’t be able to give away all the money even if I tried.

  Charity events for causes worth supporting had always been something I felt strongly about. I gave freely and often. I just didn’t like being trotted out like a show pony this evening, and it was making me cranky.

  I’d had a few other ideas in mind for how to let people know I was back, but there had been no arguing with Selena on this matter. She had decided that I needed to get my face out there socially and not just sit behind my father’s desk.

  “The community needs to be reminded of how much American Aviation does for it,” she’d said. “Besides, some positive PR can’t hurt during the change of leadership. We need to show people we’re as strong as ever, united, and ready for this next chapter.”

  There had been so many things I could’ve said, but I’d figured it wasn’t worth the argument if I refused. She was convinced the company needed it, and she’d persuaded my father to speak to me about it as well. So I’d left it. One night wouldn’t kill me, and knowing my mother, it would be for a worthy cause.

  When I descended the staircase, I found her already waiting in her elegant evening dress. Jewels shimmered on the fabric, dangled from her ears and around her neck. Her wedding ring sat heavily on her finger, a variety of other, smaller rings adorning her hands alongside it.

  She was
a vision of impeccable grooming, every hair in its place and her brown eyes sharp as she cast them over me. “You look wonderful, darling. You definitely look the part of an important CEO. All that remains to be seen is whether you can act like it.”

  I ignored her statement. They’d raised me for the day I had to take over the company. No number of years or miles of distance between us had made me forget those lessons. I might’ve become a little rough around the edges, but I knew exactly what was expected of me.

  “What charity are we shilling for tonight?” I asked, taking her hand and folding it into the crook of my elbow to escort her to the car.

  The gesture earned me a rare, approving smile. “It’s a fundraiser to support the renovations of the elementary school library. We’re sponsoring it, and our marketing team has had a hand in the planning.”

  “Why don’t you just pay for the whole library? We have the money.” It definitely seemed like a worthy cause to me. I’d lived in the library of my own elementary school once upon a time.

  Selena’s smile disappeared as she arched a manicured brow at me. “It’s not about charity, darling. It’s about the PR.”

  “Giving should be from the heart, not to get something in return,” I said lightly, but I couldn’t hide how disgruntled I was by her attitude. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Don’t be silly, darling. We’re already giving them this event. They don’t need us to give them an entire library.”

  I didn’t argue as I led her out into the warm night. Thankfully, I had my own money, and she couldn’t dictate how I spent it. If the kids wanted a new library, they’d get one with or without my mom.

  My car was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs, the doors already open and the engine already running. Selena had nearly keeled over when I’d told her I’d be driving us tonight myself, but I hadn’t budged. I didn’t need someone to drive me around.