Page 12 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“What are you—some kind of hot yoga witch?” the Derrick on the right spewed, but as soon as she zeroed in on him, he sank into the chair.
Hold on to your hats!
“Oh, I’ll show you what kind of witch I am.” She struck the gong, then stared up at the fluorescent lights. “By the power of three, I call on the universe to—”
“Stop! Don’t curse us,” the center Derrick pleaded. “I put a huge bet on the Snake. I can’t have your crazy karma magic costing me twenty grand.”
Libby froze.
She wasn’t exactly sure what she was about to call on the universe to do to these jackasses. She was pretty much making it up as she went, but the mere threat of psychic vengeance seemed to be enough to scare the swagger out of these bros. She lowered the mallet. “You bet twenty thousand dollars on a fight?”
“Yeah,” the guy eked out.
That money would change everything for her and her brothers. And here was this spoiled Derrick, casually placing a bet on something as senseless as boxing.
Her heart sank. “Why are you here? Why did you advertise an opportunity to invest in a fitness business?”
The Derrick on the left stared at the table. “We did it to meet hot chicks.”
“You lured women here under false pretenses just to meet them?” She had to be sure she’d heard him correctly.
“We were pretty drunk when we made the post. We didn’t think anyone would apply. But shit, there’s a bunch of hot fitness chicks looking for a break,” he replied as a blush ripened on his cheeks.
“Twenty thousand dollars plus a substantial investment is a big deal to a lot of people,” she answered, hoping she’d knocked or gonged some sense into these men.
But she’d given them more credit than they deserved.
A stupid, self-righteous smirk bloomed on the center Derrick’s lips. “If you think about it, we didn’t trick anyone. There is a prize.”
She cocked her head to the side. “And what would that be if it’s not the investment and the prize money?”
“Forget that stuff,” Derrick continued. “We’re the real prize.”
“You’re the prize? The three of you?” she barked.
The nerve of this guy!
“Yeah, what chick wouldn’t want to date one of us?” he tossed back, looking mighty proud of himself.
She sized up the center Derrick. “You could be sued for this. This is fraud and false advertising.”
“Are you going to sue us, yoga witch? Do you think you could go up against our parents’ attorneys?” He sank into the oversized chair and rocked a few times like an overindulged schoolboy. “I bet you twenty K you don’t have an attorney on retainer like we do,” the center Derrick snarled.
The guy wasn’t wrong. She didn’t have any recourse, and this prick knew it. But that didn’t mean she had to walk out of this room with her tail between her legs. The former, orgasm-laden, balanced Libby wouldn’t contemplate revenge. But in this conference room, vibrating with an unstable fury, that Zen master was nowhere to be found.
Still, she had to be careful when it came to karma. Blasting a bolt of negativity at this creep could clear and enhance his aura and blowback negatively on her. However, with her whacked-out chi and all hope of funding her brothers’ education shredded, there wasn’t much more the universe could throw at her.
She concentrated on the center Derrick, whipping up a tornado of energy. “It might not happen today or tomorrow, but your luck will run out. Mark my words, Derrick…”
“Dawson,” the center Derrick supplied with a syrupy twist to his lips.
She grabbed her bag, swung the strap over her head, jammed the gong and mallet inside, then turned to the man. “Derrick Dawson, I predict that a shitstorm of spiritual energy will knock you on your ass,” she snarled through gritted teeth.
Oh, how she wanted to punch his lights out. Her hands balled into fists as her vision grew glassy and that tornado of rage threatened to tear her apart. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked away the emotion.
She would not cry—not in front of these jerks.
Turning on her heel, she bolted from the room, passing a bevy of bystanders as she swung open the door to the stairwell. Taking the steps two at a time, she cursed her unstable chi—that gnawing off-balanced energy, gurgling and sloshing around inside of her like a bucket of brown, putrid mop water. She should have known better than to peg not only her hopes and dreams but the hopes and dreams of her brothers on this wild goose chase.
