Darlene by Avyn Pearl Read Free Book Online
Authors: Avyn Pearl
that makes him desirable, not to mention that he's fabulous in bed. Falling in love isn't part of my plan, but if it were, maybe I'd pick Kevin. Or, let him pick me. It's so unfortunate that he's going to get caught up in this.
I set my alarm to wake up early so that I can get to Chula and get that key to the rear security door, my entry point. I'm also hoping I can screw Kevin's brains out one more time before I disappear.
Chapter 10
Nelly's uncle Kip's shop sits right in the middle of a strip mall that boasts the usual suburban offerings: a nail salon advertising a $30 mani-pedi special that I wish I could indulge in, a coffee house, a high-priced cupcake store, a bridal salon and a beauty supply. It's typical and I'm glad because I can mill about while looking like the rest of these suburbanites aimlessly spending money on a random Thursday.
I stroll inside and lean on the counter close to where an ambivalent looking kid sits reading a magazine. I have to speak for him to acknowledge me.
"Excuse me."
He looks up at me, brushing his bangs—far too long, by the way—out of his eyes. "Yeah?" Then, almost as if he'd suddenly realized that I'm probably a customer, he clears his throat and asks me, "Um, what can I help you with?"
"Kip here?" I say.
"Yeah. Hold on a minute."
He lazily walks to the back of the store into an office that I can see from the front. A few seconds later, a tall, muscular black guy with a bald head and a ridiculously long beard appears.
"Can I help you?"
I almost smirk at the sound of his voice, which is nothing like I'd imagined for a guy of his size.
"Hi. I'm Darlene." I extend my hand, which he leaves hanging mid air for now. "I'm a friend of Nelly's."
Uncle Kip grins wide, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Oh, yeah. She called me," he responds excitedly, shaking the shit out of my hand in the process. "What 'cha need?"
"Well, I'm sure she told you," I start, pulling the mold from a plastic baggie that had been hidden in my crossbody bag, "what I needed."
Kip glances at the long-haired kid. "She just said you needed a key."
Good, I think to myself as I step a few inches down the counter where Kip starts to fiddle with some machinery. Uncle Kip is discreet. I'm not worried about the uninterested lanky teen who's since gone back to his reading.
He looks at my mold and says somewhat under his breath , "Humph. I don't know about this." His eyes travel to my face. "Might be sticky."
"I know. Do the best you can. It's better than paying to get the locks changed on my unit."
"Yeah," Kip replies. He looks up at me with a look of discernment.
I figure out that he knows I'm lying through my teeth, so I just stop talking. A few minutes and a bit of small talk later, Kip hands me a shiny new key.
"Thanks a bunch. You have no idea how much you've helped me."
"No problem," he says.
"You need a receipt?" It's the long-haired kid talking again. This time, he's got a new magazine.
"She don't need a receipt," Kip offers, giving me a slight nod. "Plus, it's on the house."
"You don't ha—"
"You're a friend of Patricia's . It’s cool." He waves me off. "Go on, now." Spoken just like an uncle. I can tell Kip's had practice at this.
"Thanks again. Good to meet you."
Outside, I unlock the car I've rented under Nelly's name and head back to the Kimpton to meet Kevin for our lunch date. I'd much rather skip to the dessert.
***
In his voicemail, Kevin had said to meet him in suite 1017, on the top floor of the Kimpton. I knock, anxious about what he has up his sleeve. The door is promptly opened by a white-gloved concierge who extends a hand toward a seating area in the vast penthouse suite.
"Right this way, Miss Haley," he says crisply.
I sit at the table as directed, looking around for Kevin. I don't want to seem too eager, but surely I'm intrigued.
"Would you like a root beer float, Miss Haley?"
I stare at him, confused, although I do manage to reply, "A what ?"
"I also
I set my alarm to wake up early so that I can get to Chula and get that key to the rear security door, my entry point. I'm also hoping I can screw Kevin's brains out one more time before I disappear.
Chapter 10
Nelly's uncle Kip's shop sits right in the middle of a strip mall that boasts the usual suburban offerings: a nail salon advertising a $30 mani-pedi special that I wish I could indulge in, a coffee house, a high-priced cupcake store, a bridal salon and a beauty supply. It's typical and I'm glad because I can mill about while looking like the rest of these suburbanites aimlessly spending money on a random Thursday.
I stroll inside and lean on the counter close to where an ambivalent looking kid sits reading a magazine. I have to speak for him to acknowledge me.
"Excuse me."
He looks up at me, brushing his bangs—far too long, by the way—out of his eyes. "Yeah?" Then, almost as if he'd suddenly realized that I'm probably a customer, he clears his throat and asks me, "Um, what can I help you with?"
"Kip here?" I say.
"Yeah. Hold on a minute."
He lazily walks to the back of the store into an office that I can see from the front. A few seconds later, a tall, muscular black guy with a bald head and a ridiculously long beard appears.
"Can I help you?"
I almost smirk at the sound of his voice, which is nothing like I'd imagined for a guy of his size.
"Hi. I'm Darlene." I extend my hand, which he leaves hanging mid air for now. "I'm a friend of Nelly's."
Uncle Kip grins wide, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Oh, yeah. She called me," he responds excitedly, shaking the shit out of my hand in the process. "What 'cha need?"
"Well, I'm sure she told you," I start, pulling the mold from a plastic baggie that had been hidden in my crossbody bag, "what I needed."
Kip glances at the long-haired kid. "She just said you needed a key."
Good, I think to myself as I step a few inches down the counter where Kip starts to fiddle with some machinery. Uncle Kip is discreet. I'm not worried about the uninterested lanky teen who's since gone back to his reading.
He looks at my mold and says somewhat under his breath , "Humph. I don't know about this." His eyes travel to my face. "Might be sticky."
"I know. Do the best you can. It's better than paying to get the locks changed on my unit."
"Yeah," Kip replies. He looks up at me with a look of discernment.
I figure out that he knows I'm lying through my teeth, so I just stop talking. A few minutes and a bit of small talk later, Kip hands me a shiny new key.
"Thanks a bunch. You have no idea how much you've helped me."
"No problem," he says.
"You need a receipt?" It's the long-haired kid talking again. This time, he's got a new magazine.
"She don't need a receipt," Kip offers, giving me a slight nod. "Plus, it's on the house."
"You don't ha—"
"You're a friend of Patricia's . It’s cool." He waves me off. "Go on, now." Spoken just like an uncle. I can tell Kip's had practice at this.
"Thanks again. Good to meet you."
Outside, I unlock the car I've rented under Nelly's name and head back to the Kimpton to meet Kevin for our lunch date. I'd much rather skip to the dessert.
***
In his voicemail, Kevin had said to meet him in suite 1017, on the top floor of the Kimpton. I knock, anxious about what he has up his sleeve. The door is promptly opened by a white-gloved concierge who extends a hand toward a seating area in the vast penthouse suite.
"Right this way, Miss Haley," he says crisply.
I sit at the table as directed, looking around for Kevin. I don't want to seem too eager, but surely I'm intrigued.
"Would you like a root beer float, Miss Haley?"
I stare at him, confused, although I do manage to reply, "A what ?"
"I also
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