For the Win, Page 2

  "How could you tell he was hot?"

  I rubbed my forehead. "He could have had a gorilla face under the helmet, I don't know. But his body was pretty smokin'. He was tall and solid."

  "Did you talk much?"

  I shrugged, trying to shove aside the panic and reason through the events of that night. I experienced again the cold thrill of sitting and talking with him, planning out what would happen next--anonymous sex, so unlike me, so dangerous. I'd rebelled against Cari's words because they'd so closely echoed my mother's words six months before. I hope my relationship with Gunnar isn't weird for you...we're just having fun. If anyone knows how to show a guy a good time, it's your MILF-mama. More bile burned my throat at the humiliating memory of her words over the phone, of the tears I'd held in until she'd hung up.

  "A little. We talked over drinks. I got silly and giggly, and then I invited him back to my room."

  "Why?"

  I rolled my eyes. "To play charades. Why do you think?"

  "April..."

  I grimaced. "I hadn't had sex in a long time. A woman has her needs. Please don't get judgy or I won't tell you what happened."

  "Well, I think from your starring role, I can see plain as day what happened. What I don't get is why you recorded it."

  Sighing, I gathered my dirty clothes off the floor and tossed them into my hamper. "Because somewhere in my drunken stupor, I was all horny and hot for this guy's bod.

  And...I was excited, you know? I'd never ever done something like that before. So I thought, what could possibly make this encounter even more exciting? And it just popped into my head. I set my phone down and hit record. Then I attacked him where he was sitting in the chair."

  "You recorded the entire thing? Because the video is only five minutes long, and even I know that...well, that it must have gone on longer than that."

  "He said something about wanting to lay me down on the bed. I got up and turned the phone off."

  "And how the heck do you have no idea who it was? He never took his helmet off?"

  "He was going to take it off, but I told him not to. I didn't want to know who he was. It was more exciting that way. Then...when we moved to the bed, he laid me facedown, turned off the lights and took off the helmet. I didn't look or try to figure it out. That's the whole point of anonymous sex."

  Her eyes bugged. "Uh. If you say so. Was it...more exciting that way?"

  Heat rose to my face at the memory of the weight of him, his hands and mouth at the small of my back, the feel of him pushing inside me. "It was."

  "Do you think he knew who you were?"

  God, I hoped not. He'd be one more person to deal with over this viral video catastrophe. But there was no way...

  "I was wearing the purple wig, and my face was all made up with that glitter paint you gave me. I'm pretty sure he'd never be able to pick me out of a crowd."

  "And he knows you recorded it, right?"

  My stomach dropped and I stared at her, reluctant to admit it. "Uhhh..."

  Her face fell. "Criminy, April. You made a sex tape and didn't tell the guy you were doing it?"

  I put my head in my hands, mostly to avoid her scrutiny. "I told you my judgment was crap. But I swear to God it wasn't meant for anyone to watch. It was just a flight of fancy, like buying a cheesy souvenir after an awesome vacation. I planned on deleting it later."

  Her lips pursed like a disapproving grandma. "Too late for that."

  I straightened and looked at her. "Any thoughts about damage control?"

  "The mean girls saw you hook up with Falco, didn't they?"

  I blinked, blearily remembering walking by the booth where they were sitting. I was holding hands with Falco and waving to them. "Yeah...if they see the video, they'll know it's me. But I think they'll cover for me."

  They were my friends...at least on the surface, they were. I could count on them to keep my identity secret, couldn't I?

  Sid left her chair and sank down next to me on the bed, slinging an arm around my shoulders. I looked at her, my throat feeling prickly. What the hell was I going to do?

  "You've got to stop letting her get to you like this." I knew she meant my mom and not Cari. "And Gunnar--"

  "Gunnar can suck it. I hope I never see him again."

  "But you probably have to now. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Chanukah--or do you do that one with your dad?" Given the choice, I'd do them all on my own. I stared into my lap, feeling utterly alone. Her arm tightened around my shoulders. "Gunnar is nothing to you--just brief, ancient history. You only dated him for like, what? A few months?"

  "A year." I'd met him at the end of my sophomore year and we'd dated through my junior year. My sorority and his fraternity were closely linked and people thought we were a cute couple...

  She made a cutting gesture with her hand. "Okay, whatever. You weren't even all that into him."

  "Did I--did I ever tell you what he told me when I broke up with him? That I was a boring little bookworm and too vanilla in bed. Asshole."

  She took a deep breath and let it go, likely grasping for something to comfort me with. "He was probably covering for his own insecurities. Your mother is the worst culprit in this. She should have realized--"

  "She has no sense of anyone else's feelings but her own. Even if I had said something, which I didn't, she would fool herself into thinking that I'm totally and completely cool with her newest marriage." And I knew that if I had said something, she would have called me selfish for intruding on her happiness. "I'm such a coward," I groaned.

  "You're a peacekeeper, April. A child of divorced parents. It's common, given your family situation. You never wanted to rock the boat because you felt like their love was conditional."

  "My mom's 'love' is completely conditional. Dad's just...never there. Thank God I have a friend like you." My mouth tightened and I leaned my head on her shoulder. "You're the bestest. I love you."

  "Love you too, chicken butt."

  "Stop calling me that."

  "Never."

  I brushed some lint off my skirt. I had to get up, get some makeup on and get going, but I was feeling really unmotivated at the moment.

  Sid screwed up her mouth as if she'd eaten a salted lemon. "So...this makes Gunnar your step-dad now."

  That bad taste in my mouth was back. Our girlfriend moment was over. "Shut the fuck up, Sid."

  She shuddered.

  I leaned forward and put my face in my hands, my elbows resting on my knees. "God... I need to get my head in the game. I have to start this new position at Draco today."

  "That starts today? Oh, suck an elf! I just remembered that. Could the timing be any worse?"

  "Not really," I mumbled into my hands. Working with the CFO was my dream position. A good evaluation from him could help me into any school I wanted to attend. Harvard...Stanford...or my first choice, UCLA. "I don't think I'm going to be able to think about anything else but this..."

  "Why don't you concentrate on how jealous I am that you get to work at the place that makes my very favorite video game." Sid was a gamer to the core, and had not stopped talking for days when I'd arranged for her to have a tour of the campus a few months ago. She played Dragon Epoch constantly and filled me in on the goings-on of the game even though I'd never really done much beyond dip my toe into the gaming environment. My interests lay elsewhere.

  "You can keep your joysticks, Sid. I've got my books."

  Sid laughed. "Silly. Dragon Epoch isn't played with a joystick!"

  "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I gotta get going. Please, if you can find a way to deal with this...?"

  "I have no idea how it could have gotten uploaded unless you synced it to the cloud and someone hacked you."

  I sighed, wondering if I'd pressed the share button the one time I'd played it back for myself. Now that it was out, it was spreading like wildfire. My gut clenched with nausea again. Ugh. Uggity ugh.

  I guess it no longer mattered how it had happened because the why it had happ
ened was due completely to my own stupidity. Aside from the abstention of alcohol, I'd add getting a "dumb" phone to the list of things I had to do in order to atone. No more videos. No cameras. And no social media. Not anymore.

  I stood and went into the bathroom to finish my makeup.

  ***

  I pulled into the parking lot at Draco Multimedia Entertainment a good forty-five minutes early. The best way to show enthusiasm for the new job was to show up early, smiling and eager to get to work. And the harder I worked today, the more I'd be able to force the negative, panicked thoughts from this morning's events to the back of my head. They nagged at me, swarming around my brain like gnats at dusk, and no matter how much I tried to swat them away, they came right back to aggravate me even more.

  I'd been working at Draco for the past six months as an unpaid intern but had recently been given the opportunity for advancement--probably due to my hard work in marketing. And this position was primo. Rumor had it that the company would be listing for its initial public offering (IPO) soon, so I'd get to see a big part of the process from inside the office of the financial officer. Adding that accomplishment to my resume would have the business schools bowing down and begging for me to attend.

  Draco was situated in a unique castle-shaped glass structure lined with mirrored windows from the ground up. I liked the design, as it reflected the company's mission--to provide a complete fantasy environment as the backdrop for its game. Inside was bright and airy with tall ceilings and an open-space floor plan divided by department. After entering the foyer, decorated with elaborate displays from the games Draco produced, I walked through my old division. Only a handful of the marketing people were there at this hour. There was no one I really knew, and most especially not the other interns, who usually slid in the front door a few minutes before the start of business.

  I shook my head at the thought. They'd all been very good-natured but visibly envious of my new appointment. It felt good to be the subject of their admiration.

  Usually it was me trying so hard to fit in that I went along with whatever the herd did. Especially Cari, the self-appointed leader of the group. Fortunately, she was nice to me, likely because my daddy was richer than hers.

  Not that I really cared about that. I would have preferred a less-rich dad who'd spent more time with me and didn't foist me off on my narcissistic mother. But people like Cari cared about that sort of thing, so I'd had an in.

  The trick was all in the appearance of belonging, because I was never "in" anywhere. Social chameleon, always changing to blend into the scenery. That was me. But chameleons had a major flaw--they didn't stand out. And in business, particularly in this new position, I would have to do exactly that. Make a name for myself so I could receive that coveted recommendation.

  I pushed through the double doors that led to the wide atrium in front of the offices for the company executives. It, too, was quiet except for another intern assistant--the nerdy guy who worked for the CEO of the company, ultra-beautiful boy wonder, Adam Drake. Adam, like my new boss and most of the other officers of the company, was young, driven and mega successful from the start. At my age, he was already heading his own start-up company, which, within four years would become a multimillion-dollar business well on its way to going public. Hearing about his accomplishments often made me feel like a slacker.

  "Hey, Charlie," I said, stopping at his desk.

  "Uh, actually it's Charles," he corrected, straightening his black hipster glasses on his nose.

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I think I've been calling you the wrong name for months."

  He shrugged, sliding a slow gaze over my chest. I folded my arms to cover my breasts. The thought of being exposed in the video for all to see was still shaking me to my core. Every time it threatened to jump to the forefront, I had to put my head down and concentrate on the now. It was almost impossible to do.

  Charles finally remembered where my eyes were. "It happens. But I figured since you're going to be working up here for a while, best to set you straight now."

  I glanced in the direction of the CFO's office. "Is, um, Mr. Fawkes in yet?"

  Jordan Fawkes, my new boss, was even younger than Adam and had partnered with him to create the company. It was strange that I'd be more intimidated by them than if they were older, perhaps because their wild success served as a reminder of my own inadequacies.

  Charles smiled condescendingly. "First off, none of the officers go by anything but their first names. It's all casual here. And business casual dress," he said with a pointed look at my smart skirt and sweater set.

  I shifted where I stood and pushed my long hair back from my shoulder. "It's the first day. There's no such thing as making too good an impression," I said, murmuring one of my ever-present aphorisms. I pinned quotes and truisms from my books all over bulletin boards and on sticky notes stuck to my computer monitor and bathroom mirror. They helped. They were like guideposts. My books were the mentors I'd never had in my parents.

  "Anyway, Jordan usually gets here early, but since it's the Monday after ComicCon, you'd be doing yourself a favor to avoid him before noon. He'll probably send you out to get his lunch for him. I have his standing Subway order."

  I tried not to scowl. Of course I said nothing, because in situations like this, I knew it was better to never show irritation or any other negative emotion. Grin and bear it.

  But lunch errands? I wasn't aiming to be a diner waitress. I needed good, solid business experience to write about in my admission essay. And I'd heard that Jordan Fawkes was a shrewd and savvy businessman. Word on the street was that the company owed as much of its success to him as it did to the CEO's ingenuity at programming and virtual innovation.

  Nevertheless, I was eager to please, and if I had to start with Charles and his condescending attitude to get by, then so be it. My new boss couldn't possibly be worse than this little jerk.

  "So should I do something? Maybe go in and straighten up his office or--"

  "Dude--do not touch his desk or his stuff unless he asks. Just...wait over there." He pointed to a waiting area with a comfortable-looking arrangement of deeply padded chairs meant for visitors and clientele while they waited to meet with the bigwigs. "You report to Susan, his paid assistant, and she isn't in yet."

  I looked back at him. "Can't I do something for you?"

  He raised his brows. "Yeah, as a matter of fact..." I leaned in, anxious to get to work and impress my new co-worker. "I take my latte with skim milk and two sugars. And don't go to our cafe. They suck. There's a Starbucks down the street. Extra hot, mmkay?"

  I straightened, resisted shooting him a glare, and with a bit of resignation in my slumped shoulders, turned around to carry out his orders. There was a pecking order here, and clearly Charlie-boy considered himself above me.

  I returned twenty minutes later with his coffee and one for myself. This time, when I walked through the front, the marketing department was populated, and some of the interns I'd worked with waved and smiled. Cari raced toward me, her massive mane of blond hair trailing after her. She was wearing a provocative outfit--plaid, pleated mini-skirt that hit well above mid-thigh paired with a tight white blouse and knee socks. She'd referred to this outfit as her take on the "naughty school girl." Professional it was not.

  She took in my sweater set with a nod of approval. "You're looking very grown-up today for your new position! How are you doing? Want me to help you carry that?"

  I smiled, a little uneasy as I remembered Sid's comments about her this morning. "I'm good, thanks."

  She threw a curious glance at me out of the corner of her eyes as she pushed the double doors open. "So, um, nervous? Everything going okay?"

  I hesitated a moment and returned her look, slowing my pace. "Why do you keep asking?"

  She grimaced. "I, um...well, I was going through my timeline this morning on Facebook..."

  My hand carrying Charlie-boy's ultra-hot scalding with the fire of a thousand suns coffee sho
ok and a bit of it spilled out the top, burning the back of my hand. "Shit," I said, but didn't know whether it was because of the pain or the fact that Cari knew it was me in the video.

  "Um. I don't want to talk about it," I muttered.

  "I, uh...why is it on the Internet?"

  "I don't know. I must have pushed a button to upload it to the cloud or something. I have no fucking idea. And did I mention I don't want to talk about it?"

  I turned and started back to the atrium and Charlie's desk, anxious to get this blistering cup of simmering lava out of my hand.

  "So, what are you going to do?"

  "I'm not sure there's much I can do," I said bitterly. But maybe there was... If I got Cari on my side, her loyalty would prevent anyone else from talking about it. So as much as her behavior of late had been distasteful, I was going to have to be her bestest buddy ever. Cari was fast becoming one big gnat I couldn't bat away. I'd have to sweet talk and kiss up to this gnat, in fact.

  "Can I, uh, ask you to cover for me with the others?"

  Cari smiled. "Ingrid was the other one with us at the bar, and she was so drunk she doesn't even remember that was you. I won't say a word. I know you must be stressed out. I'll do whatever I can to help. Let's get together for lunch, okay?"

  The feeling of relief came as a rush--I was almost giddy with it. Thank God I had Cari on my side for this. "That sounds great," I said.

  I didn't fully trust her--had never fully trusted her. But she had no reason to rat me out, and she was smart enough to know it could backfire on her to do it. I'd find a way to keep the loyalty I'd won in her. Time for the chameleon to change her colors again.

  Cari quickly peeled away from me before I entered the atrium, where I all but slapped that cup of white-hot neutronium on Mr. Hipster's desk. I shook my hand out the minute it was free.

  "Mmm, piping hot. The same way your new boss likes it," Charlie chimed. "He's here, by the way, and the first thing he grunted at me was a demand to get him a venti triple espresso, no cream, no sugar."

  I froze. He had to be fucking kidding me. But there was no cheeky smile incoming. Charlie jerked a thumb toward Jordan's office. "Better hop to it, girlfriend. He's hungover from partying all week at ComicCon and not in the best of moods."