Inheriting a SECRET (Corrigan & Co. Book 7) (23 page)

“Oh okay. I’m going
to
own
it, too,” I
say with more confidence than I feel.

“Damn right you are,”
Matt tells me.

Fifteen minutes—and
three games—later, they’re singing a different tune,

“That did not just
happen. How the fuck did that happen? No one is that bad at COD. Who
shoots their own men like that?” Nate asks in horror.

“Him,” Jake
responds, looking shell-shocked. “He does. I almost want to bow
down because it was so epic in its wrongness.”

“No. There’s no
bowing. You may be a king, Brayden, but you just lost your man card.
If you even had one.
Did
you have a man card?” Scott Griffin asks me.

“Fuck you all. I
warned you that I sucked, and you promised to help.”

“We tried. How many
times did I have to yell ‘shoot’ and ‘don’t shoot’? You
have no skills. None. Do you even have a penis?”

“Yes I have a penis.
I just can’t play this stupid game.”

“What does having a
penis have to do with playing Call of Duty? Ainsley and Darcy can
beat all of you. I bet they’d kick your butts if they heard you
right now,” Ethan tells them, and they all freeze.

“We’re not going to
tell them, E. There are some things your momma and her friends never
need to know about,” Caleb says looking a little scared. Hell, they
all look a little scared and I don’t blame them.

“Yeah. Your dad’s
right. This is just man talk between us, buddy,” Matt says.

“Now who’s lost his
man card?” I ask with a laugh.

“You’ve met my
wife,” he says in way of an explanation.

“How’s the couch
situation, by the way?” Aiden asks him with a smirk.

“I’m sleeping in
the guest room, not on the couch, and it fucking sucks. Now back to
the matter at hand. There’s no way you’re going to win at this
game. You need to replace that with something else.”

He’s right. Dammit. I
wanted to be able to play with Darcy, but I’ll be ninety and still
killing the wrong people. “What else can I do?”

Nate and Aiden look at
each other, smile, and speak at the same time. “Bar fight.”

“Huh?”

“You need to get
drunk and fight it out with some douchebag in a bar,” Nate explains
to me.

“Is that safe?” I
ask. I’m perfectly content to stay here in his apartment, drinking
beer and eating pizza. I like pizza.

“No. But what guy
wants to be safe?” Aiden asks.

Me. I want to be safe.
I can’t raise my hand, or say that, though. Instead I look at the
other guys. “Is it really necessary?”

“Oh yeah,” Jake
says. “Everyone needs one good bar brawl under their belt.”

“Okay.” Not okay,
so not okay.

Why am I doing this
again? Oh yeah, for Darcy. I’ll do anything for Darcy. Even
possibly die in a bar fight. No, that’s too harsh. The guys will
back me up. Right?

* * *

Darcy

“Don’t freak out
when you see Brayden, okay?” Nate says, when I walk into the lobby
at Corrigan & Co.

He must’ve been
waiting for me, and this can’t be good. We head into an elevator
together, and I tell it to take us to Matt’s floor. Brayden’s new
office is up there, and now I’m definitely going there first.

“Why would I freak
out? What did you do to him?”

“It wasn’t me. I
mean, it was kind of my fault. Mine, and Aiden’s. We were just
trying to help, and okay, maybe mess with him a little.”

“Nate.”

“He wanted to win at
Call of Duty. That was on his list. But he couldn’t win. Even when
we told him to shoot. I mean, God Darce, he’s…I don’t even know
what he is.”

“I know that. He
knows it, too. But it’s sweet that he tried.”

“Umm, sure.”

“What does this have
to do with me freaking out?”

“Well…umm….see…umm.”

“Spit it out.”

“We told him he
needed to do something else to keep his man card.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“We made him get into
a bar fight,” Nate says, backing as far against the opposite side
of the elevator as possible.

“Excuse me?”

“We thought he could
maybe fight. A little. But he can’t. We stepped in when it got bad,
but yeah, He’s looking a little rough today.”

“This was you and
Aiden?”

“Yeah.”

“
Only
you and Aiden?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Bro code, huh? Well,
bro code this. You are no longer my friend, Nate Anderson. Not. My.
Friend.”

“Just for a day or
two, though, right?”

“Maybe a week,” I
tell him, smiling. I simply cannot stay mad at him, even when I want
to punch him.

I get off the elevator,
and he stays on, heading to his own office. I walk to Brayden’s,
and see that he has a new secretary. She’s young and pretty, but
not a threat to me, so I smile as I stop at her desk.

“May I help you?”

“Yes. I’d like to
see Brayden, please.”

“I know you don’t
have an appointment, so I’m afraid not.”

“He’ll see me. I
promise. Just tell him that Darcy’s here.”

“He’s very busy.”

Seriously? This chick
may not be a threat to me, but I’m about to be one to her. I take a
deep breath and pull out my phone. He picks up on the first ring.

“Hi, Cat.”

“Hey, Crown. Listen,
I’m here to see you, but your secretary won’t let me in.”

“Shit. She’s a
little possessive.”

“You think?”

“Be right there.
Don’t kill her, please. Matt says she’s one of the best from the
secretarial pool.”

“Fine. Steal my fun.”

The door to his office
opens, and the desire to punch Nate comes back full force. Brayden’s
got a black eye and a split lip. I’ll deal with that in a minute.
Ms. Secretary of the Year needs to be put in her place right now.

“I’m sorry for the
confusion, Muska. Darcy is allowed in whenever she wants to see me. I
don’t care what I’m doing or who I’m with, you always put her
calls through and let her into my office.”

“Oh, okay. I just
didn’t think she looked like your type.”

I may be in leather
pants and a slouchy shirt, but seriously? “He gave up his kingdom
for me, so I’d say I’m
definitely
his type.”

“What? Kingdom?”
she asks, her eyes wide.

“Google it,” I tell
her as I walk into his office and close the door behind us.

“It looks worse than
it feels,” he says immediately.

“Does the other guy
look worse?”

“Umm, I could lie
here, but no. Not at all.”

“What could possibly
make you think a bar fight was a good idea?”

“It’s a guy thing.
Nate and Aiden said every American man should get in a bar fight at
least once in their lifetime. The other guys agreed.”

“I can’t really
argue with that.”

“I’m fine. Just a
little banged up.”

“Just try not to have
any more visible injuries. All I need is for the Cyndryann press to
think I’ve been beating you.”

“Oh God. They might
actually think that.”

“I know,” I tell
him with a wink as I walk out.

“He really did give
up his kingdom for you,” Muska says when she sees me.

“Yes, he really did.”

She looks impressed,
but our friendship ship has sailed. I surround myself with people who
like me for me, thorns and all, not ones who are impressed with the
King and I.

* * *

3.
Make Darcy a meal

Darcy

“Um, Darce, you
better turn on the news,” Faith tells me, grimacing as she walks
into my office.

“Is it bad?”

“Oh yeah. I need to
head out there, but I thought I should be the one to tell you. Since,
well, you’ll see.”

I turn on the news and
see fire trucks surrounding Gavin’s cooking school for inner city
kids. What the hell? He’s super careful, and what’s a fire there
have to do with me? And then I see it—or I should say, him. I pick
up my cell phone and dial.

“He’s a menace,
Darcy. A fucking menace.”

“I’m sorry, Gavin.”

“He was cooking
pasta.
Pasta
. Who the
fuck sets a building on fire when they’re cooking pasta.”

“Is that Darcy?” I
hear Brayden ask in the background, as I watch him walk to Gavin on
live TV.

“Yes. Call her on
your own phone if you want to talk to her. Mine just might explode or
some shit like that if you touch it.”

The line goes dead, and
then my phone rings a few seconds later. “I don’t know how I did
it. I swear. I was just boiling the pasta, and then there was fire. I
think maybe it was the olive oil or the butter or…I don’t know.”

“Calm down, Bray. No
one was hurt, right?”

“No.”

“And you can pay to
fix whatever the insurance won’t, right?”

“The insurance guy
said they’re paying nothing. He said he’s never seen anything
like this in his 20 years on the job. But yes, of course I can pay.”

I burst out laughing,
thinking about him setting a fire while cooking pasta. “I thought…I
thought I told you to be careful.”

“I’m glad you find
this funny.”

“Oh, I do. I really
do.”

“Here comes the fire
inspector to interview me. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Don’t incriminate
yourself.”

“I don’t think fire
by pasta will be considered arson.”

“Sir, are you making
light of this incident,” I hear in the background. Oh shit.

“No. I would never do
that. I take any kind of fire very seriously. I promise.”

The line goes dead, and
I dissolve into another fit of laughter. My poor, sweet king.

* * *

3.
Bake a cake for Darcy

Brayden

I’m not actually
baking the cake for Darcy. I can’t. Doreen Drago saw the news, and
forbade me from even touching her oven. Then again, the whole world
saw the news. Even my mother called me, and she hates to use her cell
phone. All press is good press, right? I mean, I could’ve told the
press about my huge donation to the Firemen’s Fund, but that
would’ve been bad form.

Maggie Griffin got me
set up here at Drago Sisters, and I really want to do my part in this
whole process, but no one really thinks that’s a good idea. I did
try to mix the batter for my cake, but yeah, that didn’t really
work out. So here I sit, covered in flour and cake batter, while
Eliza tries to show me how to make a flower out of fondant. I dreamed
of doing something more exciting, but by now, we all know that’s
not going to happen. The other workers are staying as far away from
me in this small space as possible.

I try a flower, and it
comes out looking like a lump of color with a few ridges. “Dude. I
mean, I know you’re trying, but seriously, what the fuck? It’s a
simple flower.”

“I’m a lost cause.”

“I want to argue, but
yeah.”

Even frosting the cake
turns out to be problematic. I have too much on one side, and I end
up tearing off half the top layer when I try and fix it. Everyone
just leaves me alone in my little corner. I’d like to think that
they’re just letting me independently express my creativity, but I
know better. Just another failure to check off. At this rate, I won’t
successfully complete anything.

“I’m here for my
cake,” I hear Darcy say to Eliza as she walks into the bakery.

I look down at the
monstrosity I’ve created, and cringe. “Here, you can give her
this one,” Doreen says, brining over a perfectly decorated
masterpiece.

“No. I can’t
pretend. I’m doing this to prove to her that I can live like a
normal person. I’m just failing badly.”

“You came in here and
tried Brayden; that has to count for something. I honestly would
prefer if you just place an order in the future, but I applaud you
for giving it a go.”

“Thanks.”

I walk out with my cake
and watch as Darcy’s eyes widen in horror. She quickly recovers and
smiles brightly. “Wow, Bray. Just, umm, wow.”

“It’s hideous. I
know.”

“I wouldn’t call it
that. Maybe
interesting
is a good word.”

“The cake should
taste great since I didn’t make it. Doreen didn’t want me to burn
the place down.”

“It looks like you
tried to make it,” she says motioning to my clothes and apron,
trying to hold back a smile.

“Yeah. I tried.”

“Then it’s the best
cake I’ve ever gotten. Thanks for making it for me.”

I smile at my girl.
“You’re welcome.”

Maybe I didn’t
exactly pass the test I set for myself, but I still won.

4.
Get a job

5.
Serenade her publicly.

Darcy

I can only imagine what
Brayden’s going to come up with next. And wonder if it’s going to
mean a trip to the hospital for him—or someone else. The cake
wasn’t horrible—okay, maybe it was a little bit horrible—but at
least nothing burned down. He hasn’t given me any kind of hint
about what’s next to come, and I’m a little nervous.

My friends convinced me
that we needed a night out at Karaoke Q, and so here I am, eating
Korean food and getting buzzed on sake. Nate and Jade arrive, and he
tries to sit next to me, but I put my hand on the chair. “Your
week’s not up.”

“You’re a
cold-hearted bitch, Darce.”

“That’s why you
love me.”

“True.”

The music stops and we
all turn to see who’s up next. A man—it’s very clearly a man,
even though his back is turned—dressed as Cyndi Lauper from the
80s, wig included, is getting ready to perform. The opening music for
True Colors begins, and he turns. Oh my fucking God. It’s Brayden.
He starts to lip synch instead of sing, but just wow. My mouth drops
open as my friends start to holler.

“This. This right
here is why he’s the shit,” Owen Griffin says. “You go man. Let
your freak flag fly.”