Niall
I stare at this perfect woman, who seems to be the answer to all my problems. Life does not work out this easily, does it?
Tucking her unruly hair behind one ear, her tongue darts out and she licks the chocolate ice cream on her spoon, then makes a face.
“Still not a fan?” I ask with a chuckle.
She takes a drink of soda and shrugs. “I’m just a creature of habit, I guess. I’ve stuck with vanilla so long, I don’t see any reason to stray.”
I can’t help it. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t mess with her. I reach out and flick a lock of her golden hair away from her face. “So, are you strictly vanilla inallthings?” Heat crawls up Laken’s neck, staining her cheeks a scarlet red. It’s adorable, and I have an insatiable urge to run my tongue along the fringe of her blush.
“Are you always so forward with women you’ve just met, or is it just ones you plan on chloroforming?”
Grinning, I drop my spoon back into the banana split that’s now become a congealed pool of dirty lake water and grab the book sticking out of her open backpack. Giving the cover a once over, I raise an eyebrow across the table. “Business law? Do you go to NYU?”
She nods, her long blonde hair falling over one shoulder. “Grad school. For now.”
“That bad, huh?”
Shrugging, she wipes Preston’s mouth with one hand while grabbing the book out of my hand with the other. “I’m a marketing major and have been trying to get an internship with a big firm for over six months now, with no luck. It’s just hard to see the finish line when everything is two steps forward one step back.”
It couldn’t be this simple, could it? She needs money and a foot in the door at a marketing firm. There has to be a way to finagle this girl an internship with Vince or Navarro for her help with Gloria. I have friends in some pretty powerful positions. All the pieces are fitting.
“How so?” I ask, leaning in for emphasis.
“Well, I had to take a year off before college to,” she pauses, swallowing hard, “take care of some things. Sometimes things happen in life you don’t plan for.”
A down on her luck single mom graduate student. This just gets better and better. My problem is about to solve itself. All I need to do is bait the hook and reel her in. Giving her a sympathetic smile, I nod. “Of all people, I can understand that.”
She shakes her head as she licks her spoon. “I wasn’t handed everything like most college students. I had to work for everything I’ve gotten.” Raising her blue eyes, she stares at me a moment before muttering under her breath. “I got enough financial aid to get me through undergrad because my mom is crazy and walked out on me.”
Although I sympathize with her plight, I smile, thinking of my own free-spirited Ma back in Ireland. “Most mothers are crazy.”
She grimaces and looks down, not returning my smile. “No, my mom is actually crazy. I moved from Florida to New York City to literally start a new life.”
“I’m sure you think so, but—”
Laken swings a gaze back at me. “Have you ever heard of Whitesnake?”
“The eighties hair band?”
“Oh, so you’re a fan?” She smirks.
I shrug and sit back in my chair. “I wouldn’t say a fan, I just know of—”
Dropping her spoon, she folds her hands across the table and pins me without the slightest hint of amusement in her eyes. “You want to know why I’m alone in New York, making my own way? My pothead mother walked out on me to tour the country as a Whitesnake groupie along with my aunt.”
“That’s a joke, right?”
“Nope. She just up and left me in the care of my senile grandmother for a life of head banging and random blow jobs.” Sighing, she lifts a hand and swipes her hair out of her eyes. “I spent my childhood at the senior center overseeing games of Bingo and eating early bird dinners at four thirty because my mother found that sucking on the end of blunts and dicks was more desirable than actually being a present parent. Now do you think she’s crazy?”
“I guess so.” I nod toward Preston and smile as he and Sophie switch ice cream cones halfway through their own conversation. “Even with all that, he seems to have adjusted well though.”
Laken lifts her head, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “Who?”
“Preston.”
Her forlorn expression changes the instant her eyes lands on him. Her mask cracks with obvious affection. “Oh, well, yeah. He’s great. He’s been through a lot.”
