Page 12 of The Spare
This could have been an email.
Chapter three
M. Brookes
Chapter four
Side Eyes
One and a half years later
My eyes pop open at four forty-five on the dot, fifteen minutes before my alarm. I look over, thankful to be in the tastefully decorated bedroom at my sister's house instead of the drab dorm I live in during the week at the college. Not because it particularly excites me to be here, but because at least while I'm here I don't have my security guy so obviously tailing me allthe time.
I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, stretching my arms above my head. I reach over and turn the lamp on, and then pull my bonnet off as I work to roll my neck. The curls tumble down my back and I shake my head, fluffing them out slightly. It's day three, the best natural hair day for me.
Yawning, I grab my workout gear laid out on the ornate, one-person desk on the other side of the room along with my phone, seeing a text notification already from Mason, my brother-in-law's brother.
The man I'm hopelessly in love with.
I read it as I pad barefoot across the cool hardwood floor to the en-suite bathroom, rubbing the crust out of my eyes.
Are you up yet butterfly? Would you like a ride to King Compound? -Mase
King Compound, or affectionately dubbed 'KC' by Mason and I, is the hub of the family.
You miss too many of those weekend breakfasts then you'll get treated to a phone call from Richard Kinghimself.Not having had a father, Richard and I have become particularly close and disappointing him makes me uncomfortable, so I go to keep the peace. I tend to keep to myself during these visits.
I eat, say a couple words, and then hightail it to the nearest sitting room or library, claiming I have homework, where I hide out until it's time to leave. It's the only thing that Henny asks of me: that I make it to these brunches.
But his father, oh boy.
Though he's sweet on me, that first year getting to know Richard King was quite something, especially when he'd laid into one of the men for even a slight transgression. The man has a snappy temper thatwill scare even the most rebellious person straight. Look at Mason; he's sure been reformed.
Though, there's still a bad boy in there sometimes when he lets it out. Which is never.
He's done a complete one-eighty transformation from the man I met just four years ago.
Since then, he's joined his brother's business, moved onto a floor in the King Dynasty building, and bought his own penthouse. The last I heard, his finance business garnered King Dynasty an added three hundred million in profit this year alone, and we have a few more months to go until the New Year.
See? Mason's miles away from the fuck up -as Richard and Henny used to call him- that he used to be.
I barely recognize him anymore.
He's morphed into this almost untouchable persona of who he used to be. Though he's still quite clever, he's got a sexy hint of danger to him that only seems to inhabit men who have unlimited amounts of money.
The Mason of today wouldn't want me. And I don't even know why I entertained thoughts that he would for as long as I have. Wait, yeah I do; I'm foolish. And so, I've pulled back on how much access I let him have when I do hear from him. Today though, I'm feeling generous.
And besides, if I ignore him now, he's only going to be up my ass about it later when he sees me. That's something thatdoesn'tchange.
I throw my clothes on the nearby bench in the bathroom, flicking the light on and blinking sleepily.
It's a beautiful space with a heated marble floor, freestanding soaker tub, a shower big enough for at least three people and stocked with expensive, high quality hair products. The window looks towards theEast grounds outside. My room faces the tennis court, looking down on Mariah's life-sized dollhouse and her playground. But of course you can't see it because it's still dark outside.
The property is currently illuminated by strategically placed lights that highlight the admittedly stunning landscaping.
Turning from the window, I sigh as I pull my hair into a high bun and reply back.
I don't think my sister would appreciate that very much. I'm at Hendrix and Isobel's this weekend. -Mel
