The Rebound Guy (17 page)

Read The Rebound Guy Online

Authors: Farrah Rochon

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

India pivoted back toward her, her eyes traveling from Asia’s hair, which was undoubtedly a disheveled mess, down to her rumpled clothes and bare feet. Asia knew her face was still flushed and her lips likely full and bruised.

India’s eyes widened. “I’ll go,” she said, and she started for the door.

Asia caught her arm. “Don’t be foolish. The only place you’re going is the hospital.”

“No, I don’t need a hospital,” her sister said. “I just came here to clean up the scrapes because you were closer, but I can wait until I get back to my place.”

“India, sit. Now,” Asia said, pointing to a barstool.

She’d heard Dexter washing up at the kitchen sink. He approached India, holding a wad of wet paper towels, which he used to wipe the trail of blood on her forearm.

“Did you happen to get the license plate number of whoever hit you?” he asked. He looked up from the cut he was attending to. “I’m Dexter, by the way.”

“I figured,” India said with a goofy, dreamy look on her face.

One of his brows hitched. “The license plate number?”

“Uh, no.” India shook her head. “It’s hard to say who was at fault.” Her eyes darted to Asia’s, then she quickly glanced away.

“Let me guess,” Asia said. “The light hadn’t turned green yet.”

“I checked and it was clear. The guy came out of nowhere.”

“He had a right to if his light was still green,” Asia bit out through clenched teeth. She fought between the urge to both hug and strangle her sister. She was happy that India was okay, but exasperated at the messes she continued to get herself mixed up in. India was as smart as they come, but her lack of common sense in certain situations drove Asia up the wall.

She picked up the dented helmet that India had set on the bar. “And what about this? Didn’t I give you money for a new one?”

India gestured toward Dexter with her chin. “I used it to buy him.”

He stopped in the middle of dampening more paper towels. “Probably my initial consultation fee.”

Asia let out a growl of frustration, all of it directed at her sister.

“Sorry.” India shrugged. “I thought you needed a rebound guy more than I needed a new helmet. The old one works just fine.” She moved her head from side to side. “See, my head is perfectly okay.”

“That depends on your definition of okay,” Asia drawled.

India’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ooh, you’re feisty tonight.” She winked at Dexter. “I think you may be good for her. She definitely looks more relaxed, so at least
one
thing you were doing was good for her.”

Dexter’s cough sounded suspiciously like a laugh. He handed India the moistened paper towels and gestured for her to put in on her knee, which was swollen and red.

“You should put an ice pack on that. It’s going to swell even more. Alternate between hot and cold for the next day so it doesn’t stiffen up on you.”

“You sound like a doctor.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had my share of banged-up body parts.” He turned to Asia and with a resigned smile said, “I guess I should get going.”

Her body nearly caved in on itself, giving a silent, mournful cry. She’d been so close to experiencing so much pleasure.

“Yes.” She nodded. “Thanks for coming with me to the game. I guess we’ll have to do the wine tasting another time.”

He moved forward, as if he was going to kiss her, but then he looked at India. Taking a step back, he raised his hand in a small wave and headed for the door.

As soon as it closed, India squealed. “Oh, my goodness, you were so about to do it with him!”

Asia rolled her eyes. Yes. She was very much about to do it with him.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting,” India said. “You should have tied a scarf around the door.”

“Of course, why didn’t I think of that?” Asia said. “Oh, maybe because this isn’t a sorority house, and I’d rather not announce to my neighbors that I’m in here about to get it on?”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” India said. “I promise I’ll call next time.”

“Sure you will,” Asia said, knowing it was a lie. She examined her sister’s knee, gingerly touching the area just below where the bruising had started.

“I had no idea he was that gorgeous,” India continued. “How are things going with him?”

Asia held her hands out, gesturing to her wrinkled clothing. “What does this tell you?”

“That you should kick my ass for interrupting you,” India said. “I swear, I am so, so sorry.”

Asia waved a hand.
“Forget about what you interrupted and tell me the truth, do you need to go to a hospital or not?”

“I’ll be okay.” Her sister’s grin was full of wicked mischief. “Your rebound guy has a pretty nice touch.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Asia said. “How is your bike? Did it get messed up?”

“It’s in better shape than I am. Harmon is keeping watch over it downstairs.”

“Because people are just itching to steal it?” Asia said with a fair amount of sarcasm as she helped her sister off of the stool. “Come on, you’ll sleep here tonight.”

“Thanks,” India said. She leaned onto Asia’s proffered arm and they walked up the first set of stairs. “And I’ll have you know my bicycle is a classic.”

“Whatever you say,” Asia drawled. “Let me get fresh sheets.”

She went to her linen closet and gathered a sheet and the quilt she’d made in 4-H during her sophomore year. She took them up to the second level and dumped them on the sofa.

“Do you think you can make it up those?” Asia motioned to the flight of twenty steps that led to her bedroom.

“If you help me,” India said.

“Okay, I’ll take the couch.”

“Aw.” India spread her arms wide and wiggled her fingers in a “Come to Mama” gesture. “You are the best big sister in the world.”

“Whatever,” Asia said with an eye roll, accepting the hug. She probably would have slept on the sofa anyway, but she would have had Dexter there with her.

Luckily for her sister, Asia wasn’t prone to sleepwalking. India wouldn’t think she was the best big sister in the world if she smothered her in her sleep.

After getting India settled upstairs and changing into her nightclothes, Asia walked back down to the living room level and, for a few moments, just stared at the couch. She could still feel Dexter’s hands and lips on her, grazing her skin, lighting her entire body on fire.

The sensible part of her brain insisted that it was a good thing they had been interrupted, but the part that was still riding the wave of pleasure brought on by Dexter’s skillful touch hoped they would soon finish what they’d started tonight.

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

The following week went by in a blur. The next Thursday afternoon, Asia sat at her desk combing through newspaper and online blog articles, Tweets, Facebook postings, and everything else she and her team had been able to find about the announcement about the younger Noah by the CEO of The Rochester Group.

All indications so far signaled that the honest, straightforward approach had been a success. Noah Rochester II had been delivered to an exclusive, undisclosed drug-rehabilitation center. His father had stood solemnly behind a podium in the company’s conference center, asking for prayers as their family soldiered on through this trying time. Asia had stood off to the side, mentally following along with the speech she had prepared.

She prayed that she could finally put this Rochester business to bed. GPPR’s crisis-management team had a lot more to keep them occupied. To her surprise—though it should not have come as a surprise at all—her department had fared just fine last weekend, when she’d taken more time off than usual. The team members had stepped up and handled situations that she normally would have taken on herself. It made her question for a moment whether she had been holding onto the reins a bit too tight.

Putting that thought out of her head, Asia gathered all of the printed articles and slid them in a folder, along with the list of people from the video taken at the Mandarin Oriental that Lance had provided. He’d circled possible scapegoats whom they could target to take the fall if Noah Rochester had declined the idea of sending his son to rehab. She was beyond relieved that this list could be buried with the rest of this mess. Asia got a sickening feeling in her stomach just at the thought of tarnishing the name of one of these unsuspecting people, just to save that other little snot’s reputation.

“Ms. Carpenter, you have a visitor,” Ben announced through her phone’s speaker.

“Send her in,” Asia said. She’d commissioned a wedding present for Lizzie and Rodney, a painting of the two based on a candid shot that she’d taken during their engagement party. The artist was due any moment.

“Actually, it’s a he,” said a deep, familiar voice.

Dexter stood just inside her door. Her pulse gave a wild leap of excitement at the sight of him looking like everything she could possibly want right now.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, rising from her chair.

It had been over a week since she’d seen him, not since the night after the Yankee game when India had interrupted what Asia had no doubts would have been a long night of hot sex on her living room sofa. He’d texted her a few times, but work had been so hectic that she’d been forced to decline his invitations to go out and do something fun, just for her.

“I know you’re busy,” he said. “But I have a really big favor that I need to ask of you.”

Asia met him as he stopped just in front of her desk. “What is it?”

“My parents are in town today. They’re leaving from the port for a Mediterranean cruise to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary.”

“Oh, how sweet,” she said, her heart melting at the thought of a couple lasting forty years together. The idea seemed foreign to her.

“Yeah, they deserve it,” he said. A pensive frown dipped his brows. “Here’s the thing. I’m taking them out to dinner tonight and my mother...” Dexter shook his head. “If I don’t show up with a date, I’ll spend the entire night listening to my mother warn me that I’ll end up alone like my Uncle Grant.”

A laugh burst out of Asia’s mouth. “You need me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” she asked.

His smile matched hers. With a shrug, he said, “I can’t pay you ten thousand dollars, but maybe I can knock a few hundred from your bill.” He took her hands. “Seriously, Asia, it’s all up to you. I’ll understand if you’re too busy. I have my friend Alena as a backup, but the idea of her as my guest makes me nervous. I never know what’s going to come out of Alena’s mouth.”

“You are in luck, Mr. Bryant,” she said. “For the first time in over a week, I have a free evening.”

“Until you get a call for the next crisis?”

She hunched her shoulders in acceptance of the quiet censure she heard in his voice.

“That’s always a possibility, but Helena did offer to take the lead on the next big emergency. I’m learning to delegate responsibility,” she said, acknowledging something they’d discussed during their hours at the restaurant in Little Italy.

“That’s nice to hear,” he said. “Whoever gave you that advice sounds like a very smart man.”

“People have been giving me that advice for years,” she said with another laugh. “I’m not sure what it is about you that caused me to finally listen.”

He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, “It’s my deep, sexy voice. It lulls people into paying attention.”

A shiver of need cascaded down Asia’s spine. She took a step back before she got suckered into doing something that was not workplace appropriate.

“I think you and that deep, sexy voice is trying to get me in trouble,” she told him.

“You know, a work suspension is just another name for a forced vacation. I think you may be onto something.”

Asia held her hands up as he took a step toward her. “No forced vacations, thank you. We leave for Connecticut in two days, and I’ve already promised not to touch any work this coming weekend.”

“I think you should leave the phone and laptop at home.”

“I’ve told you that won’t happen. My phone and computer are my security blankets. I wouldn’t be able to function knowing they were hours away.”

“Well, since this is your first night off in a while, maybe you should spend the evening at home.”

“If I spent the night at home, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself from working.” Her shoulders slumped in resignation. “You were right, I’ve forgotten how to have fun. It would be better if I join you and your parents.”

“We won’t be hitting any clubs for the sixty-and-over crowd, but my parents are a pretty animated couple. However, if my dad starts talking about golf or fly fishing, change the subject. Immediately.”

Asia laughed. “What time is dinner?”

“Seven.” He shrugged. “I told you, they’re sixty. I had to talk them out of making five-thirty reservations.” He hesitated for a moment, that edginess returning to his voice. “There’s one more thing. My parents don’t know that I no longer work on Wall Street.”

Her head snapped back in surprise. “They don’t know about Dexter’s Dog Walking Service?”

He shook his head. “And they know
nothing
about Forward Momentum. Please, don’t say anything, especially to my mother.”

Sympathy blossomed within her chest for the man standing before her, who couldn’t bring himself to tell his parents that he had come down in the world.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, she tilted her head to the side, and arching her brow, teased him. “Are you afraid of your mother, Dexter?”

He hung his head in mock shame. “My secret is out.”

Another loud crack of laughter escaped her mouth. Asia could only imagine the curious looks being shared on the other side of her door. Laughter was not a sound her co-workers were used to hearing coming from her office.

“Your secret is safe with me,” she said.

“I’m going to tell them eventually, once I’ve figured out a way to make the business sound more legitimate and not like something that would send my mother to church, praying for my soul.”

Asia shook her head, her eyes creasing with mirth. “Call me with the restaurant details and I’ll meet you there.”

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