Page 51 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

Crash let me use his room at the clubhouse to get ready since I had to stop by to get the tux from Green, anyway.

My eyes fall to the wrapped gift on the bed behind me. Sara was able to get an old program and one of the clutches used in the show. It’s got sparkly beads all over it. The silk is worn and faded from age, and Sara had to re-tack some of the beads down, but I know it’s not really about the way the bag looks. It’s the meaning behind it. I think she’s going to die when she sees it, and I can’t wait to see her face when she does. Taking one last look in the mirror, I grab the present, and head to the door, hoping the clubhouse will mostly be empty.

“Looks pretty good,” Green calls. “I mean, you don’t quite have your big boy muscles yet, but still good.”

“You clean up nice, kid,” Crash calls.

“Thanks.”

“Now, we don’t usually allow this shit, but since we can’t have Ivy League pricks stealing our women, we’re making an exception. But come tomorrow, you better haul your ass back to the clubhouse by ten a.m. like you’re going to turn in to a goddamn watermelon,” Green chimes.

“It’s a pumpkin, dumbass,” Crash chuckles.

“Whatever. He gets my point. Right, prospect?”

“Yes, sir.”

“In all seriousness, though, if you’re not back, you’ll be a pumpkin with his face smashed into the fucking wall.” Crash lays a stern look at me.

“I’ll be back in time.”

***

I drive my beat-up old truck, Brandy’s gift neatly wrapped in a box behind my seat. Thank God the ol’ ladies stepped up to make sure it looked nice, otherwise I’d have just thrown it in a grocery sack and called it a day.

My phone rings. I glance down and smile as I pick up. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey, I’m running a bit behind. I’ll unlock the door, and you can just come on in. I’m just finishing my hair and makeup.”

“No rush. This is your thing.”

When I pull into the lot, I park and head up to wait on her.

It’s not too long before I hear the door creak behind me. I turn to look, and my jaw hits the floor. She is my walking Aphrodite. She wears a burgundy dress the color of a glass of wine, and I want to drink her up. The top hangs off her shoulders with soft lace that clings to her arms and follows the curves of her breasts in a deep plunge. The bottom is short in the front, revealing her long sexy legs and strappy heels. The back flares out behind her like a cape of lace and tulle.

“Um, do we have to go? Because all I want to do is undress you. Damn, baby. You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I’m serious, babe. That dress and those legs”—I scan up and down them—“are going to have my mind in the gutter all night. I’m going to be coming up with all kinds of fantasies.”

“Let’s hurry and get there. Then maybe we can ditch the party early and make some of those fantasies come true,” she taunts, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the door.

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

Brandy—

Marcus turns into the entrance to the neighborhood and brings the truck to a stop at the gated entry. A security guard walks out of the small building in the center of the road and over to the driver’s window.

“Can I help you?” He eyes the truck. “It’s a bit late for a service call.”

I lean forward, calling out, “I’m Brandy Arrington. We’re headed to the Arrington Christmas party. My passcode is 0415.”

He seems surprised to see a girl like me in this truck. “Yes, Ms. Arrington. I apologize for the confusion.”

“No worries.” I wave off his apology as the gate swings open.

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