Karma Read online

  "Damn, he sure got one hell of a New Year's kiss," Lane said, still laughing and rubbing his now-red cheek again.

  "I'm glad you think my suffering is funny," I said dryly.

  "She left out the best part!" Cora yelped. "She left in the middle of the night while he was sleeping and has ignored him ever since. He's tried calling her like a million times, and she hits the ‘fuck you’ button every time," Cora divulged, wanting to get back on her boyfriend's good side. Traitor.

  "Shit, Gabs, what are you doing to do?" Lane asked, allowing Cora to snuggle back up to his side now that she’d snitched on me.

  I slumped down in the chair. "Hell if I know. I've never had to deal with the aftermath of a one-night-stand before.”

  "Good news for you, Princess. You just started working at a place that specializes in dealing with shit like that. I'd consider this practice."

  I flipped him off. "You two seriously suck ass at crisis-solving."

  Lane laughed. "Aww, look, your middle finger likes me." I flipped him off again, bringing myself up from the hideous chair and walking out of the bedroom. I threw a "call me later" over my shoulder before stomping down the stairs. I had some serious damage control to do because I couldn't avoid running into Dalton forever.

  "Good luck, my deflowered friend," I heard Lane yell as I walked down the stairs and left while resisting the urge to stomp back up the stairs and throw another book at his face.

  "Hello there, my sexy little vixen." I jumped at the husky voice behind me and almost whacked my head against the top shelf of the fridge.

  "I told you to quit calling me that," I muttered, grabbing a bottle of water and slamming the fridge shut. "It's just too weird," I added, scrunching up my face and turning around to face him.

  "How the hell is that weird?" he asked. His tan, muscled arm pulled out a stool from under the kitchen island, and he plopped down on it across from me.

  "I'm your stepsister," I pointed out. I'd been terrified the day I had to meet Asher, Kenneth's son, my stepbrother. I was certain he was going to throw a knife in my back because his dad left his mom to be with mine. My mom had broken up his entire family. Not to mention, the first time I met him was at their wedding that he was forced to attend only a month after his parent's divorce was finalized. But he didn't. Instead, the little twerp hit on me. And he's done it every single time he comes to visit his dad from Miami, where he and his mom ended up moving after the divorce to be closer to her family and away from the demon Douglas prowl.

  If we weren't kind of related, I would've totally jumped on that bandwagon with excitement that someone that attractive was hitting on me. Asher was a year older than me and had one of the best bodies I'd ever seen. He was athletically built from being active in almost every sport possible. He played football for his college in Miami, and there were talks of him going pro. His dirty-blond hair was shaved short, and he was wearing a pair of black Nike shorts with a cut-off t-shirt with the Miami University logo on it. He must've just gotten done working out in our basement gym because I could still see trickles of sweat dripping around his forehead. My gaze fell down to his chest, noticing the view of his muscular six-pack through the slit in his shirt. I wanted to reach over and trace my hand along the ridges. But the most attractive part of Asher was his dimples. When he smiled, flashy dimples would pop out on each cheek instantly making me melt.

  "Haven't you ever watched Cruel Intentions? I could picture us being like them, all scandalous and shit," he threw back, a wicked grin spreading over his thin lips as he wiggled his eyebrows.

  I screwed off the cap of my water and took a sip before pointing my finger at him. "You do know the stepbrother dies at the end, right?" I asked, smirking.

  His smile faded. "Fuck, I forgot about that part."

  "Why are you even here? In case you didn't notice, your dad is gone," I said, motioning toward the empty house. I probably sounded like a bitch, but Asher never visited when his dad was gone. His relationship with his dad was strained, and he only came up for holidays and special occasions. He’d taken his mom’s side during the divorce, and I didn’t blame him; I would’ve done the same thing.

  He shot me a devious grin causing those beautiful dimples to protrude. "Exactly why I'm here, kitten. No parents, no one up my ass. You're stuck with me for the next few weeks."

  I slouched down against the counter. "You Douglas boys never seem to go the hell away," I grumbled, grabbing a banana from the fruit basket beside me and tossing it at him.

  His posture perked up as he caught the banana with one hand, unpeeled it and took a large bite. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked, his mouth full. "I'm a fucking blast to have around, babe."

  I shook my head, waving off my words. "Nothing." Asher was definitely not going to be hearing about my one-night-stand with his cousin. He'd never let me hear the end of it.

  He shrugged, taking another bite of the banana. "You better get used to us being around. When we get married, you'll have to be around them all the time. Plus, you'll be sharing our last name. Gabby Douglas; it's like music to my ears," he laughed, winking.

  I rolled my eyes. "In your dreams."

  His smile grew. "Oh, baby, you've been in plenty of my dreams." I reached across the island and smacked his arm. He laughed and rubbed the spot where I'd slapped like he was in pain. "So how was your first day at the new job?"

  "Miserable. That place seriously sucks ass." I bent forward and felt the cold marble across my forehead as I smacked it against the counter top.

  He tossed the banana peel onto the counter, only a few inches away from my head. "Tomorrow will be better."

  I dragged my head back up to look at him. "Why's that?" The only way my job was going to get any better was if everyone with the last name Douglas decided to quit and move off the face of the planet.

  His eyes twinkled with mischief. "I'll be there."

  I leaned forward to smack my head against the counter again. "Seriously?" I groaned out.

  His hand went up to his broad chest. "Shit, babe, don't get too excited. You sure know how to hurt a man's feelings," he said, attempting to look offended.

  "You mean ego?" I asked, my lips twitching into a smile.

  "Eh, I guess you're right. But cheer up, sexy. I'd rather not be working there, either. But it was the only way I could convince my dad to let me come stay up here."

  "I wish someone would've warned me."

  "We're going to have a blast while I'm here. But I do have some rather terrible news for you."

  I took a sip of my water. "What's that?"

  "I'll be working in the IT department, and I know you won't be there considering a monkey has better computer skills than you." I flipped him off. "So you won't be seeing this handsome face much during the day." He cupped his chin and looked up at me, grinning. "But I figured it would help us hide our inter-office affair."

  It didn't surprise me they'd assigned him to work in the IT department. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but Asher was a hacking genius; he could hack into almost anything. I was guilty myself of having him do a few things for Cora and me. Nothing illegal, we just needed to find out whether she’d made it into her first-choice college. And she did. My best friend was leaving me soon while I would be stuck here doing who-knows-what with my life because I was so indecisive.

  "I'm shaking my invisible pom-poms," I muttered, circling around the island and falling down onto the stool beside him.

  He tapped my thigh. "I'd much rather you be shaking something else," he laughed. I shoved him, and he hopped off the stool. "Come on. I'll make your day better." He held out his hand for me to grab. "Let's go get something to eat; I'm fucking starved. My treat, but if you spend over five bucks, you're on your own."

  I grabbed it, and he attempted to drag me into his side but I pulled away. My hands dashed out, and I plugged my nose. "Nu uh, playboy. I'm not going anywhere with you until you shower all that sweaty shit off your body."

&
nbsp; He slapped my ass. "Fine, be back in five, unless you want to join me?"

  My foot went into his shin. "Five minutes, or I'm getting food without you and letting you starve," I warned, trying to hold back my laughter but failing.

  The first thing I noticed walking into Eva's parents’ living room was the nasty scowl plastered on my mother's face. "You're late," she commented. Her voice was sweet, but I didn't miss the distaste in her tone. She’d wait until the audience was gone before she let the real Victoria Douglas come out: a raging, jealous and controlling woman who covertly hated her life.

  My gaze moved from her to Eva’s parents sitting on a couch directly across from her. "Work ran over," I replied, giving them a polite wave.

  "That's nonsense," my mom argued, and I detected the slight slur in her voice. "Your father owns the damn company, and he managed to arrive on time." Great, she'd been drinking. The chances of her not making a scene decreased. My mother was an emotional drinker, and by emotional, I mean she likes to talk shit about our dirty laundry when too much liquor was running through her system.

  "Victoria, that's enough," my dad scolded like she was a small child, and her mouth instantly slammed shut. Thank God. I threw my chin up at my dad for the save, who was perched up next to my mom with a glass of bourbon in his hand. Bourbon had been the choice alcohol for the men in our inner circle for years. They believed if they drank enough, it emitted power into their veins. "I had him finish some additional paperwork before leaving. It seems it took him longer than I expected," he added, lying to keep my mom from acting out.

  "I'm sorry, Dalton. You know how strongly I feel about punctuality," my mother said, her eyes staring down at the floor.

  "You finally made it," Eva called out. I twisted around to find her sauntering into the room and blinked. The long, blonde tresses I was used to seeing were gone. Instead, her hair was shorter, ending at the peak of her shoulder blades. I typically wasn’t a fan of short hair on girls because I liked to have something to grab onto when I was fucking them, but Eva worked it well. Her slender body was wrapped up in a short, black dress and gold heels adorned her feet, making her tanned, long legs appear longer. My dick stirred awake in my jeans. Just because I didn’t want to marry her didn’t mean she didn’t turn me on.

  "Hi, hubby," she purred, giving me a fake smile and kissing me hard on the mouth. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it."

  I scratched my cheek. "I couldn't miss seeing you, babe," I muttered, grinding my teeth together. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling at my response. We both played the part so well.

  Eva's dad clapped his fat hands together. "Now that everyone's here, let's eat. I'm famished," he said, getting up from the couch. He straightened his hands down his expensive suit and unbuttoned a few gold buttons on his jacket. His large belly was protruding over his pants; he wasn't obese, but he wasn’t fit. His light hair was beginning to thin and he was balding around the middle, but I didn’t think he cared much about it. Clive Monroe wasn’t big on worrying about his appearance; his focus was always on the almighty dollar.

  I followed everyone through the large entryway, my head tilting up to admire the crystal chandelier hanging above us. I loved Eva’s parents’ place. It was the epitome of old money with winding staircases on both sides of the room. The cathedral ceilings were at least fifteen feet tall and were covered with a mural of clouds and cherubs. The long table that could’ve easily seated twenty people was already set with dishes at each chair. A group of waiters filed into the room behind us with their hands full of hot plates and glasses of wine. I immediately grabbed a glass of wine off a tray, not having the patience to wait for them to set it down. I wouldn’t need a coaster for that since I’d be chugging shit if I had to deal with my parents for an entire night. I pulled out Eva's chair for her before settling into the one next to her.

  Everyone got comfortable, grabbing their utensils and starting the first course. "Is this the first time you two have seen each other since Christmas?" Eva's mom asked. I barely noticed her mouth move from the overabundance of Botox injections she's had. Eva's dad wasn't one to keep up with his appearance, but her mom was the polar opposite. She was the stereotypical 'Stepford Wife.' Her long, blonde hair was curled into tiny spirals hitting the top of her exposed cleavage, and her made-up skin looked flawless as her fake eyelashes fluttered open and closed.

  My attention moved away from her to my own mom, whose look was the complete opposite. She was wearing a white, long-sleeve blouse that buttoned down the middle, pairing with a grey skirt and a pair of small heels. Her hair was twisted into a tight bun, reminding me of something you’d wear to a business meeting, not a dinner with so-called friends or future in-laws.

  Eva's manicured hand set down her glass of wine and grabbed my hand in hers. "No, I visited him last month," she lied, without even flinching. She hadn't visited me once while I was away at Columbia and she was at Georgia State; we'd just learned the beautiful art of lying and manipulation during adolescence. We were all professionals of deceit.

  My mom wiped her mouth with her napkin and took a swig of un-needed wine before joining the conversation. "That's nice, honey. I figured you two would want to start living together. Dalton just purchased a new, gorgeous condo. I'm sure he wouldn't mind you moving in." I tightened my grip on my wineglass, my knuckles caving into the glass at her desperation. Jesus, could she have made it anymore obvious she was ready to get this agreement, I mean marriage, over with? Eva's dad was worth millions of dollars, and my parents wanted him and his thirty-something businesses on our side. They’d decided I was the perfect little worm to reel the big fish in.

  I brought the wine glass to my lips and took a giant swig. "We wanted to wait until we got married before we began co-habitating," Eva answered, glancing around the tables and noticing the forced smiles morph into grimaces. They didn't like that idea as much as we did. She coughed, swiping her short bangs away from her face. "I mean," she paused and let out a light un-Eva like giggle, "what would people think if we lived together before tying the knot?" She spoke quickly, her voice innocent, and the bright smiles reappeared like her words had hit a light switch, changing the mood. Damn, the girl was good.

  "You’re right, dear," my mom said. She pointed a skinny finger at me. "Dalton, honey, you better get on that," she laughed, but clearly not joking.

  "Just looking for the perfect ring," I grumbled, taking another drink of wine. I was planning on having my younger sister, Piper, go pick out something to give to Eva. I knew for a fact I sure as fuck wasn't getting on one knee and giving some pathetic speech about how much we loved each other. My mom had wanted me to do a public proposal, but that shit wasn't happening.

  It wasn't that I hated Eva. I didn't. In fact, we were friends. We'd actually dated our sophomore year of high school but broke up after six months when we realized we were better off as friends. Unfortunately, our parents didn't agree with the break-up, and we'd been 'engaged' for years. They were planning our marriage before I even received my high school diploma.

  "My son is quite the perfectionist," my mom stated, her stare on me full of warning. "He only wants the best for the woman he loves." I almost choked on my food at the bullshit coming out of her mouth.

  I grunted as an elbow slammed into my rib cage. I held my arm into my side and looked up to see Eva's eyes shining over at me. "It better be a good one," she whispered, smiling.

  I rubbed my side and chuckled. "Oh, you're gonna hate it, lover," I replied, tapping her thigh under the table.

  "If I have to deal with you for the rest of my life, I deserve a nice, big rock." I inhaled a deep breath at the sudden sting of her heel ramming into the top of my foot. Damn, she was abusive when she wasn't getting her way.

  "I'll be sure to find you the nicest ring at the local pawn shop,” I threw back, not able to hold back my laugh.

  "Do it and I'll be planning your funeral instead of a wedding.”

  My attention darted a
way from the stack of papers in front of me to the loud phone ringing at the corner of my desk. I’d been at Douglas PR for a week and not once had that damn thing rung. Not once. I was beginning to think it was only there for aesthetic purposes. My lovely job consisted of organizing files, emailing invoices and being bored into oblivion. Once the other employees stuck in the same cubicle room as me figured out I was the stepdaughter of their boss, they pretty much snubbed me and labeled me as undeserving for the job. Assholes.

  My focus stayed on the phone, certain I was hallucinating the noise. By the time I realized I wasn’t that crazy, it went silent. Oh, well. I went back to my stapling routine, and the ringing came back. Damn it. I set my stapler down, contemplating whether or not to answer it. Everyone there hated me. Asher was the only person who talked to me, and he would’ve called my cell phone, so whoever was on the other end was most likely someone I didn’t want to talk to.

  I swiftly picked up the phone and brought it to my ear. "Uh, hello?" I answered, sounding anything but professional.

  "Gabrielle," the penetrating voice on the other end barked, and I instantly regretted answering. "It's Wilson. Come to my office." The line went dead, and I rolled my eyes as I sat the phone back down in its receiver. I'd forgotten how much of a jackass Dalton's dad was. I took a deep breath, uncertain of why I was being called into the demon's office, and crossed my fingers in hope that I was getting fired.

  Rising up from the uncomfortable chair, I ran my hands down my skirt before venturing out of my box. I walked past the rows of other cubicles before reaching blondie at the front desk. I still hadn’t learned her name, so I’d nicknamed her. “I’ve been summoned by the almighty Wilson,” I grumbled over to Bitchy Barbie. I had no idea where his office was, so I was forced to ask. I looked down and noticed she was painting her fingernails. Where could I sign up for that job?