Velvet Kisses(15)

A smile comes and goes on my lips. “Not that. Outside the bedroom.”

“Most of the time it is outside the bedroom.”

“Okay, you’re hilarious.” And apparently horny as hell. “Um, how about something to do with my article, ‘Sex and the Coed?’”

“I love that. Each time you put in a new tip, Bryson and I get right to it.” She dazes off a moment. “It’s sort of like you’re an invisible ring leader in our bedroom.”

“Nice?” I’m not quite sure what to say. I sort of wish I were a ringleader in my own bedroom. I scowl down at Will while a redhead with a low-cut top engages him in a breasty conversation.

Wyatt James pops into my mind uninvited, and just as I’m about to shoo him right back out, I melt into a puddle of swoon and let his dark-haired, sexy self linger.

“Oh, I know!” Baya takes up a fist full of my skirt and examines it. “We can do this. We’ll make our own crazy brand of clothes and sell them on Etsy and eBay and wherever the hell they’ll let us! We can even open our own website! We’ll make a fortune by finals. How did you do this?” She pets my thigh as she smooths out the patches of fabric to admire them.

“Simple. I just hit the thrift store and chose things I like with appealing fabric and pieced them together. I kept the first ten inches of the skirt and sewed on the rest. The patches are sort of easy and therapeutic for me to make since it’s just connecting rows of squares. We didn’t have much growing up, so I was sort of relegated to the thrift store out of need more than fashion. Funny I’ve never thought of selling what I make. It’s sort of a one-off deal.”

“Even better. We can brand it as unique, one-of-a-kind clothes. People love things that aren’t mass-produced. But first we’ll need a name.”

“Thrift Shop Chic?”

Her lips contort like she might be sick. “Those three words just sound wrong in the same sentence.”

“Agreed. How about The Dime Store Dames?”

“There are two of us… But dames makes us sound about a thousand years old.” She tucks her thumbnail between her teeth and starts to chew. “Oh, I know! How about the Rag Dolls?”

“How about the Rag Doll’s Closet?”

“I like it.” She nods, still drinking down the idea. “How about Rags to Riches? Upscale, up-cycled clothing for the uniquest you?”

“I love it!” We jump and high five and garner all kinds of dirty looks from our competitors slash classmates who still seem to be scratching their heads over where to begin.

My phone buzzes in my hand. It’s a text from Laney.

Great news! Ryder says the secretarial position is yours if you want it. Is there any way you can swing by today to fill out some paperwork in HR? If so, you can start as early as tomorrow!

“Look at this!” I show Baya the text. “I have a job! Maybe I won’t have to live off dehydrated noodles for the next three years after all.” I text back letting her know I’ll stop by in a few hours.

“I’m really happy for you, Marley.” Baya pulls me in. “And I think Rags to Riches is a brilliant idea. I’m thrilled to be on your team.”

I glance down at Will in time to see the redhead laughing obnoxiously at whatever just spewed from his mouth. He probably just informed her of how he fooled the idiot girl in the back into thinking he would love her forever. The redhead leans in and relaxes her arm over his shoulder as if it always belonged there, as if that were its new home.

“Boy, he’s not wasting any time.” Baya clicks her tongue.

“He doesn’t have to. We’re not together anymore. He can bed his way through the entire lecture hall, and it wouldn’t faze me.” Okay, it might faze me a little. My jealousy monitor has thumped once or twice just watching them interact as if a blossoming romance were happening right before me. Will glances up a second, and our eyes lock. Then he does the unthinkable, he glides his arm right over her shoulder as well.

I take in a breath at the sight.

“Ignore him.” Baya ushers us right out the door. “Forget he ever existed. He’s just a bad memory, hon. He’ll never be anything more than that.”

I ponder this as we head out of the building and into the fresh air. Can Will ever be just a bad memory? I think he’s holding pretty strong to the one who promised me forever then murdered my virginity. I think, in the end, he murdered the idea of love in general.





Wyatt





Capwell Enterprises consists of three major components, advertising, real estate, and over all world domination. The old coot who’s running this place into the ground has his foot in too many pools if you ask me, and most of those pools have been pissed in on numerous occasions.