The Real Thing Read online

  “Woah there, honey. Take it easy.”

  “I’m fine,” she clipped, hating the shrill tone of her voice. Liam must have heard it too, because it was enough to get him to sit up as well.

  “What’s wrong, Felicity? Did I hurt you?” he asked. She thought she’d heard genuine concern in his voice, which only made her feel like a bitch.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me,” she answered softly, “nothing like that.”

  “Okay, that’s good. But something’s bothering you.”

  “It’s just...I don’t do that kind of thing. It’s not me.”

  “Okay,” he said again, maybe a little doubtful this time.

  “Everything’s fine, Liam. It’s totally fine. It’s just that nothing like this can happen again.”

  “Alright, if that’s what you want. How about we make ourselves more presentable and go back down to the party?”

  Felicity nodded and accepted his hand up. It was the right response, the only acceptable one, really. She should have been pleased, and she told herself that she was, except that she couldn't quite shake the feeling of disappointment that followed her back down the stairs.

  Chapter Five

  Liam North

  Liam woke up with a banging head and a mouth that tasted like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in a month. It was his first hangover in a long time, since his early twenties at least, but he put it in the category of ‘well worth it.’ As he sat up, stretching his arms over his head and wincing when his head gave a warning protest. He could still smell Felicity on him. That sweet-spice was almost gone but what lingered was enough to get him halfway to hard all over again. He could almost imagine her taste on his lips, although that was pure fantasy. It had been a good night, a hell of a good night, and he was sorry to see it pass. It was Saturday and all he wanted to do was stretch out in bed again and think about the things he had done to Felicity’s delicious body the night before. Instead, his phone started buzzing, causing another dim protest from his poor, parched brain.

  “Shit,” he muttered, fumbling for the phone and almost dropping it before he could get it answered. “Hello?”

  "Sorry, boss, did I wake you up?" Matt, his head security guy asked. Liam could almost hear the smile in the man's voice, as he glanced at the clock. Almost eleven o'clock. Shit. This was why he didn’t stay out drinking all night, why he hadn’t done so since becoming part of the adult populace with a real job and everything that it entailed. It made people lazy. He was not a man who could either afford nor tolerate that particular trait. The people who worked for him, people like Matty, for example, knew that about him from the start. Liam had no doubt Matt was enjoying this rare chance to catch his boss with his dick in his hand.

  “Nope, not at all. What is it?” Liam asked, trying not to sound too annoyed.

  “We need to meet, sir,” Matt answered, all business now.

  "Sure, call Percy. I've got something in my schedule on Monday, I think, but it's best for you to check with him."

  “With all due respect, sir, that’s not going to work. We need to meet now. It’s about last night.”

  There was nothing like a sense of urgency to put your hangover on the back burner. After a cold shower and three aspirin, he sprinted down the three flights of stairs, to his home office. Matt was already there, along with the rest of the security team. Six huge dudes in all, and an easy availability of more if Liam ever decided he had the need. He met with a part of the team on a regular basis, twice a month at least. Typically, those meetings were light-hearted, best described as preventative. The North family was now and had always been part of the one percent, economically speaking, and at the top end of the one percent at that. That kind of wealth came with certain caveats, and security risks was one of them. Liam didn't remember a time when his family hadn't been associated with a security team. It was par for the course, and most meetings involved more laughter and snacks than anything else. It only took a second for Liam to see that this was not going to be one of those meetings.

  "Hey, boss. Hope you don't mind us getting things situated. We've got some shit to discuss," Matt said, standing quickly at attention. The rest of the guys remained in their chairs, but each one sat up a little straighter. It was almost always that way when Liam entered a room, unless he was with his family, most of whom thought they were better than him.

  “Okay, tell me. What’s important enough for all six of you to be here on a Saturday morning?” he asked, looking at them each in turn over steepled fingers.

  “We’ve got good news and bad news,” Matt answered, no hint of a joke on his face.

  "What is this, an action movie? Why don't you just tell me what you need to say?" Liam countered. He was doing his best not to get pissed off, but the aspirin hadn't done much for his headache, and his stomach was sour. All he wanted to do was go for a swim and grab a cheeseburger.

  “Last night. With the girl,” Matt answered matter of factly.

  "Yes?" Liam asked, careful to keep his tone even. He had no idea where the security had been stationed when he and Felicity had slipped away, but he knew they’d been watching. They had probably stood just outside the door while he made Felicity scream. Their assignment had been to track Felicity, and they were good at their jobs. They never lost their target; never. The fact that none of them was so much as cracking a smile now was a testament to their professionalism.

  “You wanted to know if that necklace was a fake or the real thing, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s real. They wouldn’t have shown up otherwise and show up they most definitely did.”

  Liam's mind was wandering the way it did when he was running on too little sleep. When he heard that though, his focus came back and everything grew very still. Here it was; the bones of last night's operation. The necklace had been borrowed from the pawnshop at such a hefty price and worn on prominent display on Felicity's elegant neck. If it had been fake, the evening would have been nothing more than another gala, this time attended by an incredibly sexy breath of fresh air from Liam's usual arm candy. But real? If the necklace was real, it was like baiting a hook and casting his line out to sea. If it was real, as Matt claimed, the necklace was worth far too much for whoever the fuck was rocking the high-end jewelry industry to let it go so easily.

  “So, what does that mean about that prick at the shop?” he asked, his excitement erasing all but some lingering traces of the vile hangover. “Do we think he’s in on it, too?”

  "Can't speculate as to that right now, boss. It's way too soon. All we know right now is that there were people there last night and they were hell-bent on getting that necklace back," Matt answered. Liam kept his mouth shut on that point, but he was tempted to tell his head of security to stop pussyfooting around the issue and make some deductions. Personally, Liam had had his eyes on that shitty little pawnshop for a while now. It went above and beyond his distaste for the kind of gauging and general shady behavior that went down in places like that, too. He didn't have any proof of involvement yet, but he was confident he would get it. The necklace being genuine was one more step in that direction.

  “Fine, no speculating. So what, then? What’s the bad news? It sounds to me like things went exactly the way we wanted them to,” Liam prompted.

  “Right, except we didn’t get the guys.”

  Matt looked down at his hands when he delivered this not so good news. Liam looked at the rest of the team and saw that they were all doing the same. Liam liked to consider himself as a relatively good boss and a decent man. He figured most people did the same. He was also a successful man, and he fucking hated being told no. He hated waiting, being told there was a complication in a plan. His sister, Rebecca, made sure he knew that those qualities made him a spoiled baby and he didn't necessarily disagree with her. It just didn't translate over to real-life situations for him. Take now, for example, he liked Matt, liked all the guys, but at the moment though, he would gladly have ripped them
each a new asshole for screwing up last night's operation.

  "You didn't get them," he repeated, saying it slowly, letting the words roll around on his tongue to get the full weight of them. He disliked the sound of that even more coming out of his own mouth, and his security guys shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Samson, the biggest guy, cleared his throat loudly and looked miserably out the window.

  “It happened fast, boss. We almost didn’t identify them at all. They’re good. Sneaky bastards.”

  “Right. That’s why you were there. To take care of the sneaky bastards,” Liam remarked, his voice chilly.

  “I know,” Matt answered miserably, “we fucked up. We’re still going to get ‘em, Mr. North. I promise you that. It’s just-”

  "Christ," Liam interrupted, getting to his feet and pacing around the room restlessly, "there's a ‘just?’"

  “It’s about the girl. About her safety.”

  "What about it?" It felt like all the blood had drained out of his body at once. For the first time, the full force of his own stupidity hit him, and it was worse than any slap to the face. He'd gone into the shop without thinking. He'd bought back Felicity's ring, brought her to the gala with that fucking necklace on, all without thinking. Except it was worse than that because he had been thinking; he'd been thinking about himself and what he wanted. He hadn't bothered to consider the amount of shit he'd be heaping on Felicity. Crying in an alley wasn't great, but it was a hell lot better than being on the radar of dangerous jewel thieves. Shit! Not just on their radar, but she was the one wearing the necklace, not him. He'd managed to spare any heat on himself by putting her directly into the line of fire. Nobody liked to admit what an absolute shit he was, but Liam couldn’t avoid it now. He’d spent such a long time telling himself that he would never turn into one of the assholes who usually ran in his circle. But he hadn’t noticed when he’d done just that.

  "We can't guarantee it," Matt answered, vocalizing every manic thing running through his head. He hardly knew the woman, but that didn't matter anymore. She was his responsibility. He had made her his responsibility the moment he’d approached her with that fucking ring.

  “That’s not good enough,” he said, his voice low and dangerous now that his adrenaline was in full swing, “not nearly good enough. She’s going to stay safe.”

  “We’ll have to watch her,” Matt said slowly. “Do you know how she’ll feel about that? We’ll have to watch her all of the time.”

  “No,” Liam shot back quickly, “you won’t.”

  “Come again?” Sampson said from his spot by the window, his first vocalization and not at all a helpful one.

  “I don’t need you guys watching after her. You’ve done enough. I’m going to do it myself.”

  LIAM HAD A THEORY; his theory was that every guy secretly believed himself to be the suavest, most badass guy on the planet. Watching an action flick, guys would think "I could do that" and leave the theater only marginally impressed. The theory was his, but that didn't make him immune from its effects. He was just as susceptible as every other dude out there. He managed to follow Felicity for almost a week before she confronted him, outing him completely. In his own head, the language he used was tail, not follow. And for that almost week, he tailed her everywhere she went. Any passing second without his eyes on her was one in which he was anxious as hell. He slept outside of her apartment, too. He slept in his car, and that alone was enough for him to learn that her neighborhood was a shithole. If a bunch of criminals wanted to get to her here, he didn't think they would have much trouble. He was actually surprised he didn't witness any crimes while he was watching her. For almost a week he watched her, and it wasn't until he was comfortable with his new role as vigilante investigator that he finally got caught.

  Felicity worked in not one but two restaurants, waiting tables. It was at the second place; a cheap, questionable dinner, where she decided to confront him. He shouldn't have gone in; it was the first time he'd been bold enough to do it, and he knew it was a mistake as soon as he sat in his booth in the back. The place was packed, busier than it had any right to be, but it wasn't big enough for Liam to be able to disappear into the crowd. There weren't enough waitresses to reasonably take all the customers, and that worked in his favor. Still, it was cocky to think that he would get away with hiding in plain sight. It might work for people with real skill, but that was not him.

  “Okay, this is enough. What are you doing here?”

  For a second, Liam kept his head bent into the menu. It was like being a kid again and thinking he was invisible if he didn’t move a muscle. He couldn’t help glancing up though, and when he did Felicity was standing over him, hands on hips and an expression on her face that he didn’t want to look too deeply into.

  “This is a restaurant, right? That’s what it said on the sign outside, anyhow. If you don’t want people coming inside, then-”

  "Come on," she interrupted, her voice soft. It would have been easy to mistake the softness for friendly, but Liam didn't think that's where she was headed. Not with the look in her eyes. He sighed and set the menu aside. Diner food wasn't his bag, anyway. There was nothing in the menu that didn't look like it would send his cholesterol skyrocketing.

  “I’m only checking up on you, Felicity. I haven’t seen you since the gala.”

  “Except that’s not really true, is it?” she asked with a sigh.

  "What do you mean by that?" he asked as innocently as possible. Jesus, he sounded like an idiot. Did he really think she was buying any of this crap? He was stalling for time. He knew it, and so did she.

  “I mean you’re not very stealthy, Liam,” Felicity answered, not unkindly, sliding into the booth across from him, “and I’ve seen you following me. I’ve seen you all week long.”

  “So you’ve seen that, have you?” he asked. His face was hot, his palms sweaty. He felt like a kid called into the principal’s office. He felt like a total asshole.

  “Like I said, you’re not that stealthy,” she laughed, sounding a little less accusatory than before, “I’ve seen you everywhere I go. Even parked outside of my apartment at night. Want to tell me what it’s about? Because I don’t have any delusions that it’s got something to do with how wonderful I am.”

  “You are wonderful, but no. It’s got to do with a little more than that,” Liam admitted.

  "Could you tell me what it is, please? If I sit here much longer, my manager will notice, and I'll probably get fired. I can't afford to lose this job," she implored, her forehead creased with worry. Liam looked up, already hating her piece of shit manager without ever meeting him. Liam had watched Felicity long enough to know that she was the hardest working person he'd ever met. She didn't deserve to be afraid to sit down. She didn't deserve most of the shit she had on her plate.

  “Liam?” she prodded, “I’m serious. I can’t lose this job.”

  “I don’t want you to lose your job,” he finally answered, “I want you to quit.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked, laughing again in her shock.

  “I’ve got another proposition for you. This one’s a bigger deal than the last.”

  Chapter Six

  Felicity Reynolds

  Strictly speaking, Felicity wasn't so much of a bar person. They were loud, often too dimly lit for comfort, and until recently full of smoke as well. They were filled with too many people, all of whose voices were overly loud and full of liquor. Felicity never felt entirely at home in places like that. Although she wasn't usually a self-conscious person, she became just that around that many drunk, overly aggressive people. She liked to avoid places like bars but there were some occasions that just called for it, and this was one of those times. Her best friend, Lena, was so thrilled about it that she could hardly sit still on her stool. She kept wriggling around, forcing the well-worn legs of said stool to creak precariously.

  "Careful, Lena, you're going to topple over if you don't settle down," Felicity laughed, nursing a water
ed-down gin and tonic. It was her go-to drink on the rare occasions when she did find herself in a bar, and usually, she was just fine with it. This afternoon, not so much. She compared every sip she took to the champagne from the gala. That stuff had tasted like the nectar of the gods compared to what she was drinking now. She took another sip anyhow and tried not to grimace at the taste.

  "I know, I know, but I'm so excited! I can't believe you actually came out with me!" Lena squealed, giving another massive bounce to punctuate her point. She was small, hardly touching the five-foot mark, with a pixie cut that made her look like a teenage girl. Woe befall the man who approached her in the bar with an attitude, though. Lena gave no fucks and had zero issues telling a guy off for being too forward or just an overall dick. Felicity envied that about her; the ability to be a bitch when need be. Personally, she had a habit of being nice even when it wasn't called for. It was a nasty habit she was perpetually working on shaking off.

  “It’s not like I never come out,” she said a little defensively. Lena rolled her eyes dramatically and took a big swig from her long neck bottle.

  “Um, actually, that’s exactly what it’s like,” Lena countered.

  “No way! We went out for Cinco de Mayo, remember?”

  “I do,” Lena grinned, “which was in May.”

  “So? Your point?”

  “Nothing much. Just that it’s currently November. So that’s like, seven months. Seven and a half?”

  “Shoot. Okay, you’re right. I should be around more often. I guess I haven’t been the best friend,” Felicity said, more than a little guiltily. It was also sort of terrifying, hearing that it had been seven months since the two of them had been out in the town. Not because she was afraid she would lose Lena; that would never happen. The two of them had been friends since they were very young and Felicity knew that would continue to be until they were both old, shriveled up, and gray. The terrifying aspect here was how quickly time passed by. Always working two, sometimes three jobs, going to school when she could carve out both the money and the time. The days were streaking past her so quickly they all blurred together; so quickly that seven months could go by without her noticing or realizing. This was her life. It was her life, and it was being lived without her consciousness or participation. All of a sudden the reason for her being here didn't seem so crazy, after all.