Page 3 of Dangerous Curves

The clack of Poppy’s heels are heard on the stairs and I cringe as Kosi’s eyes widen. “Really? You had to wake the devil up before midnight?”

“I’m leaving, so she needs to as well.” My shoulders shrug, but I do feel bad for making Kosi deal with her so early in the morning.

Kosi huffs. “You could have at least waited until I left, jerk face.”

Poppy instantly zeros in on Kosi as she enters the kitchen. Her smile is sickly sweet and fake as hell. “Oh, I thought I smelled cheap perfume. You know for your next birthday you should have Jaxx get you some designer perfume Kasey.” Poppy refuses to call my sister by her actual name, even though I know by this point in time she knows it’s Kosi and not Kasey. Poppy is jealous of anyone who can take attention away from her so my sister is on her shit list.

Kosi gives her a sneer. “Yeah, well most of us in this room aren’t gold digging whores, you excluded.” She hops down off the counter and tosses her empty bottle in the trash. “Don’t be late for your meeting.”

Poppy’s face is flushed with anger and her mouth is puckering. I can see the verbal lashing forming in her eyes. I stand up and place myself between the two of them. I really can’t play referee right now. “Let me walk you out.”

Kosi gives me a sweet smile that never really meets her eyes. “Thanks, but I don’t need someone to hold my hand to make me look good. You better stay here and tend to the needy one.”

“You little…” I place my hand over Poppy’s mouth so she can’t finish that sentence. Once the front door closes, I remove my hand. “I can’t believe you just let her talk to me like that.

I sigh. “It’s not like you don’t deserve it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Poppy, you come out with the verbal jabs first. You can’t blame Kosi for coming back at you. Would it kill you to be nice to her?” I ask.

Poppy glares before throwing her hands up in the air. She starts speaking a hundred miles a minute in Spanish, and I’m lost as she stomps her way to the front door. It slams with a deafening thud. Surprisingly enough, the glass in the door didn’t break. This is not how I planned to start my day.

Three

Kenndrix

The incessant ringing coming from my nightstand wakes me up well before my alarm is due to go off. Blindly, I grab an extra pillow from the mountain of pillows and blankets next to me and place it over my head. I’m hoping if I ignore the phone, it will shut up. To my surprise, it does and I breathe a sigh of relief which is short lived because it once again starts to ring. In frustration, I throw the pillow across the room and roll over to grab the phone. Ronin’s name dances on the screen along with his picture. “Hello,” I answer.

“Good morning love,” he greets me, his British accent thick, but smooth like butter. It helps to soothe my current irritation at being woke up at this ungodly hour.

I sit up in the bed, my hair cascading from the messy bun I sleep in. “I’m not sure it’s good or even morning here right now.” My tone is more clipped than I anticipated.

I hear rustling on the other end of the line. “Shit, it’s the middle of the night for you, isn’t it?”

One glance at the whimsical, antique alarm clock sitting on my nightstand tells me it’s a little after three in the morning, which also means it’s a little after ten in the morning in London. The sun is up where Ronin is so, of course, he didn’t stop to consider the moon is still casting it’s glow over Los Angeles. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m sorry, love. I just had to catch you before I left.”

That wakes me up a little more. Ronin wasn’t scheduled to leave London until next weekend when he would be here in the States for a photo shoot. I was planning on flying to New York to spend the weekend with him. “Left? Where are you going?”

Ronin sighs. “That’s why I was calling. My manager and agent got me this awesome modeling gig in Italy, so I’m going to be there which means, I won’t be in New York next weekend.”

“What about your training?” Ronin is highly dedicated to football-- soccer in America. He should be starting training camp this month, right after the New York trip was planned if I’m not mistaken.

“The team has hired a personal trainer to accompany me so that I can train while in Italy. It’s great publicity for them, so they aren’t worried.” Ronin moves around on the other end of the line. Whistling comes from his mouth.

I run my free hand through my tangled, wavy hair. “So, when will I see you next?”

“I don’t know, love, but we’ll figure it out. You could always come to Italy.”

A frustrated sigh escapes my mouth before I can reel it back in. I’m always giving, while he’s perfectly fine taking from me all the time. He never considers my schedule. “You know I can’t. I start the movie the day after tomorrow. My schedule for the next two months revolve around it.”

Ronin chuckles. “It’s not like you have to be there every day it’s filming. You’re just producing Ken.”

“But I want to be there. This is my career and a huge step up from just writing. I want to be there and I want to learn as much as I can. It’s not always just about you and your career.” The moment the last sentence slips out, I regret it. My eyes pinch shut while I pinch the bridge of my nose. The statement wasn’t completely wrong, but pointing it out right now certainly won’t make our situation any better.

His grunt is heard loud and clear, sounding exactly how I would expect a caveman to sound. “I never said it was, but this is a huge opportunity for me. I would think you would understand that.”

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