Imperfect Chemistry

“This’ll be much easier if you do it my way.” Freya is standing in my room, holding a dress that has less fabric than a t-shirt.

  “No,” I say resolutely.

  “Come on!” She shakes it in my direction.

  “No.”

  “Fine. But don’t blame me when this doesn’t work.” She throws the article of clothing onto my bed.

  “I don’t need to dress like that to get what I want. As a matter of fact, that will send the exact opposite message than the one I’m going for.”

  “Okay, but for the love of all that’s holy, will you please wear something other than a business suit?”

  “But this sends the message I want. What I’m offering is a business proposal.”

  She goes into my closet and comes out with a handful of clothes. “Compromise. This is more than a business proposal. You also need someone you’re attracted to and they won’t return the sentiment if you look like a woman of strict morals. How about a pair of jeans with a nice top and boots? No slacks, no blazer.”

  It’s a fair settlement. “Fine.”

  An hour later, we’re outside a nightclub. Freya is still grumbling because I didn’t let her cover my face in junk. I did make another concession and now the only makeup I have on is a small amount of lip gloss.

  She knows the bouncer—a very large, very tattooed bald man dressed all in black—and in less than a few minutes, we’re inside the dark cavernous space with the pulsating lights and loud music. It vaguely reminds me of the frat party, but this time at least I have an expert with me. She pulls me around the dance floor to an elevated area that has a variety of couches, chairs and tables. A group of people sit in a circular booth and that’s where she leads me.

  When we approach, a tall, lanky guy with shaggy, light brown hair stands to greet her.

  “Hey, babe,” he says, kissing her on the cheek. When he turns his face, I see he has a black eye and his cheek is swollen.

  We slide into the booth, Freya first so she can sit next to her friend.

  “Lucy, this is Cameron,” she introduces him. She has to yell over the loud music.

  My eyes fly to her face. “The Cameron?”

  He laughs. “My girl’s been talking about me?” He wraps an arm over her shoulder. Just then, the guy on his right asks him something and he turns his face away from us to answer, giving me a clear shot of the bruising on his face.

  Freya leans towards me. “Don’t judge me,” she whispers.

  I’m confused by the statement. “Why would I do that?”

  She sighs. “Ted and Bethany aren’t here because I didn’t tell them about it.”

  “I thought they had to study.”

  “Only you would believe that excuse.” She shakes her head at me, but she’s smiling. “The truth is that Cameron and I got back together, and they don’t all exactly get along.”

  “Why not?”

  “Cameron likes to gamble, and he’s sort of wild, and the whole cheating on me thing, you know.” She shrugs. “He didn’t like me hanging out with them so much. He thinks they’re judgmental bitches.”

  I consider her statement and run through my possible responses before answering. My first thought is that Cameron is exhibiting controlling and manipulative behavior. It’s common in abusive relationships for the abuser to attempt and isolate the victim from others who care about them, but I don’t think this is the proper place for that conversation, and perhaps I am over-analyzing or reading too much into the situation.

  “I don’t think they would be angry at you,” I tell her. “I think they would only be concerned for your well-being.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, I’m just not ready for the lectures, yet.”

  “Freya?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What about the, uh, black eye and…” I gesture to the side of my face and then look pointedly at Cameron’s injuries.

  I very clearly remember our first conversation in the clinic. Freya mentioned, albeit in passing, that there was a person on campus she wished to compensate in exchange for causing physical pain upon Cameron’s person. But she didn’t actually…?

  “Oh, right, that.” She bites her lip and avoids my gaze.

  “You didn’t.”

  “I sort of did.” She leans closer to me, whispering in my ear. “The mob boss guy, I know he’s like a thug and stuff, and it was totally wrong for me to hire him to beat up Cameron, but he was kinda hot and I wasn’t going to go through with it but then it just happened.”

  “Freya!”

  She groans. “I know, shhh, don’t say anything, okay? He doesn’t know I had anything to do with it.” She gives me a mournful expression. “What was I supposed to do? He had this whole Thor thing going on, and I don’t usually find guys with long hair attractive, but…”

  I shake my head at her, and before she can continue, the waitress comes over and someone orders a round of drinks. As she’s leaving I stop her and order a glass of water.

  Once she’s gone, Freya leans into me again. “But we’re not here to discuss me. We’re here for you. Do you see anything you like?” She gestures to the table around us. There’s mostly guys, a few girls.

  I glance at them, but I feel uncomfortable. This isn’t really what I wanted to do, but it’s the best option we could come up with for now.

  “Well?” she asks when I’ve been silent for a minute.

  “I’m not sure.”

  My gaze leaves the variety of available guys at our table and moves around the club. From our vantage point, we can see the bar and we overlook the dance floor. It’s difficult to make out people on the dance floor because it’s mostly dark, but the occasional burst of light reveals faces and bits of the dancers. The bar is better, with lights running underneath the clear surface that exposes the faces of the people crowded around it.

  My eyes stop on a guy leaning against the bar and talking to a couple of ladies next to him.

  I nudge Freya.

  She leans into me. “Yeah?”

  “I think I found someone.” I point towards the bar. “There, in the white t-shirt.”

  “With the dark hair?”

  “Yes.”

  She laughs. “You would pick that guy.”

  “Do you know him?”

  Before she can answer, the waitress returns with the shots for everyone. She didn’t bring my water and I don’t have the opportunity to remind her. A shot is placed in front of me, and I nudge it over to Freya. She takes hers with everyone else at the table and then drinks mine as well.

  I can’t help but notice that Cameron gives her a slight scowl when he sees her taking the extra shot, but he catches me looking and smiles smoothly.

  I nudge Freya with my arm. “You know him?”

  “That’s Jensen’s cousin,” she tells me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “No!”

  “Yes!” She’s laughing.

  “But that’s…” I shake my head. “The odds of that are extremely unlikely.”

  “And yet it’s still true. And let me tell you, Jensen is a better choice. His cousin is sort of a douche.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He’s a total player.”

  “You said Jensen is a total player, too,” I remind her. “And my observations indicate otherwise.”

  “Well, even if Jensen does sleep around, he’s nursing a broken heart. He has a good reason to be walking the wild side. Dominic is, like, a tenth-level douchebag. He’s so evil he doesn’t have a reflection.”

  “Well. I find him attractive, and therefore I am going to use him to suit my needs.”

  She laughs again. “You go girl.”

  I nod and then scoot to the end of the booth.

  “You’re going now?” she asks.

  “No time like the present. Besides, the waitress didn’t bring my water.”

  “Good luck, be safe and I’ll be here if you need anything.” She gives me a quick, one-armed hug before I s
tand and head to the bar.

  I maneuver through the crowd so that I end up next to Dominic at the bar. At this distance, I can see he’s not as attractive as Jensen, but there is something there. Maybe it’s the nose.

  I stand there for a minute, waiting to get the attention of the bartender, but he doesn’t see me. As a matter of fact, his eyes seem to roam over me whenever he’s looking in my general direction, despite my frantic waving.

  Finally, when he’s close enough to hear me, I yell, “Excuse me!”

  He blinks and focuses on me. About time. “Can I please get a glass of water?”

  He sighs and looks bored, but complies.

  I smile and take my glass. My yelling seems to have garnered some attention. When I turn my focus to the man at the bar next to me, I see he’s already looking in my direction.

  “You’re a bit of a spitfire, aren’t you?” Dominic asks.

  My smile grows. He sounds like Jensen, that deep gravelly voice. I like that.

  “I’m not sure,” I answer truthfully. “I wanted water and he was ignoring me.”

  “That’s what you get for not wearing something more revealing.” He smiles and nods at my cleavage—or lack thereof—and I start to grasp what Freya meant by douchebag.

  “I like it,” he continues. “It’s refreshing. This place is a total meat-market.”

  My opinion fluctuates. Maybe Freya is wrong about Dominic like she was wrong about Jensen. He seems honest, at least.

  “I’m Lucy.” I stick out my hand.

  “Dominic,” he says. He shakes my hand and holds it a bit longer than is considered appropriate. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

  “I’m glad that you asked, actually. I’m conducting research.”

  “What kind of research?”

  “Lucy?” A voice behind me asks. I turn and there’s Jensen. “What are you doing?” he asks. His gaze flips to Dominic and then back at me.

  “Hey cous! Didn’t expect to see you here. I always invite you, but you never actually show.” Dominic reaches for Jensen, wrapping his arms around his neck in what might be a hug, but could also be a choke hold. “I thought you were off the market for good, man!” He releases his neck and then rubs his knuckles on his head, a move that Jensen quickly tries to swipe away. “That chick really fucked you up,” Dominic says. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, man. Ninety-nine problems, yanno? What brings you here? Gotta hottie on the line?”

  “Right,” Jensen says, shrugging out of Dominic’s hold. “I came because Freya invited me,” he says to me.

  “Freya, huh? She hot?” Dominic asks.

  Jensen ignores him. “Lucy?”

  I know that he wants me to answer his original question.

  I shrug. “Plan B?”

  His eyes widen, eyebrows lifting, and then he’s shaking his head. “No. No. No way. This is not happening.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Dominic asks.

  Jensen grabs my hand and tugs gently, leading me away from the bar and from Dominic. I suppose I could resist, but I don’t really want to.

  “I’m sorry!” I call out over my shoulder to Dominic, who looks perplexed. “It was nice meeting you!” And then he disappears behind a wall of people.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask Jensen, but he’s not looking at me. He’s watching where he’s going and the music is too loud for my voice to carry. We weave through the dance floor, around bodies grinding against each other, through the scents of various colognes, sweat and booze, and out the front door into the frigid night.

  Once we’re a little away from the line of people, he stops and turns, releasing my hand and facing me. “You can’t ask Dominic what you asked me. You can’t…proposition him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s an ass.”

  “He’s your cousin,” I point out.

  “I know.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t change anything.”

  I consider my response before speaking. “All I need is to talk to someone. Ask some personal questions. I don’t have much time. I’m wasting time, as we speak. Do you have any other suggestions?”

  He stares at me for a beat and the tension between us rises. He can read between the lines. If he can’t help me, I’ll find someone who will.

  “No,” he says finally.

  “Okay. Thank you for your concern. I’m going back inside.” Turning away from him, I head back towards the club.

  I make it five steps. “Wait.”

  “Yes?” I stop, but I don’t turn around.

  “Okay. I’ll do it. Just please, don’t ask Dom. He’ll totally take advantage of you and then I’ll have to kick his ass.”

  I turn around. “You would do that?” Unbelievable. Someone other than one of my brothers would hurt someone for me. That’s new.

  “Well, yeah,” he says. “I’ve never,” he pauses for a brief moment and his words come haltingly, “met anyone quite like you.”

  I frown. “Is that good?”

  The words themselves sound like it should be a compliment, but the way he said it is questionable.

  “I’m not really sure. Look, if we’re going to do this, you’ll have to work around my schedule.” For someone who just agreed to be my mentor, he sure does seem hassled.

  “Since my grant has been put on hold, I don’t see that as a problem.”

  “We’ll start tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now go back in there and find Freya and try not to get yourself into any trouble between now and then.”

  “I’m never in trouble.”

  He laughs, but there’s not much humor in the sound. “I find that hard to believe. And stay away from Dom.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I turn and head back into the club. When I reach the door, I show the bouncer my stamped hand and he lets me back in. I take one last glance behind me and see Jensen turn and head out towards the parking lot, disappearing behind an SUV.

  He didn’t seem very happy about the arrangement, but as long as my goal is attained and he’s willing, I guess it doesn’t matter.

  Chapter Nine

  Words can be sweetly encouraging or downright dirty, but they are almost always a powerful aphrodisiac.

  –Dr. Ruth