An Illicit Attraction: A Roleplay

Kara:


Garrett:


It was mid-afternoon in East LA, and Kara sat behind the front desk at her brother’s shop in a seedy, rundown part of the city, wanting nothing more than to be back in her small hometown of Wimberley, Texas. She missed the quiet evenings, untainted by city lights and strange sounds in the night. She missed the awkward creaks of the side porch swinging in the evening breeze, of the crickets and the stirrings of woodland creatures that serenaded her to sleep from outside her bedroom window. It was odd to think how she hated the stillness of her old country life then, and of how, living life in the city now, all she wanted was the security of her quaint Texas home. She hated how loud the people were here, how she couldn’t trust neighbors as she’d done so easily as a child back home, of the horrid traffic she faced as she rushed to work in the morning each and every day. College life made it all bearable; it gave her a goal, something to look forward to, but it didn’t make this shitty place any more livable. Of all the money and wealth she may have had now, she’d give it all back for the friends she used to know. For all that had been taken from her eleven long years ago.

She tapped her fingernails, painted a deep, shimmery shade of the deepest of blue, against the edge of her desk and watched through the shop window as people strolled by. It wasn’t really a shop by any means; it was a front. Her brother did business here, but it wasn’t the bike and auto repair that the shoddy sign in its door’s overhang promised. It was where his clients came to deal whatever shit they dealt under the table. The garage out back was a ghost town. It held an old crotch rocket that hadn’t seen the light of day in at least five years, and her brother’s prized ’67 Camaro, among them boxes of tools that had been long covered by inches of dust and ceiling debris. The real business went down behind the very door adjacent to her – her brother’s office. Garrett, a man seven years her senior, was nothing if not ambitious. They’d started from nothing, and from nothing had raised an empire of sorts. They ruled these parts, and anyone smart enough knew to steer clear of their territory. Everyone but the clients themselves. Kara, herself, was just a decoration at the desk. She was part of the front, the masquerade, and from this simple task she earned more money than she had the desire to spend. But it was what she knew, and Garrett was the only family she had left. Misguided as he was, his heart was in the right place.

Finding a magazine at the table’s edge, she leafed through it. Revolver, an issue from three years ago depicting the Hottest Chicks in Metal, served as her entertainment. She read through an interview with Rob Zombie, skimming past the black metal bands that quite truthfully freaked her the hell out, and glanced up at the clock. No clients yet. Naturally.

When she heard footsteps, she glanced behind her to find JohnBoy, one of her brother’s right hand men, striding past, a duffel bag slung carelessly over his shoulder. He came from Texas as did she, and he and her brother had been inseparable since their early teens. They’d played basketball together in the backyard of her Wimberley home, they'd skipped school together, they'd gotten arrested together. She couldn’t truly remember ever hearing his real first name, or just how he had earned his new one, and it hardly mattered. Everyone here went by nicknames. No one really knew jack shit about anyone else, and that was what suited them best. It wasn’t to say that they weren’t close buds; it just meant that when one went down in this dangerous line of work, you wouldn’t have a name to mourn. But they each knew the others’ quirks and mannerisms, and as proof, the door slammed behind her and almost instantly JohnBoy’s quirk was made evident: the undeniable strains of the bass and the pounding beat of dubstep blared in her ears.

Groaning, Kara stood from her seat and knocked the magazine to the floor. Raising her a voice to a near scream, she pounded her fist on the door. “JohnBoy, cut it the fuck out!”

The music lowered. Infinitesimally. His gravelly, down-home drawl greeted her through the closed door. “Nice to see you too, Boss.”

That was Kara’s nickname. It was hardly fair. She wasn’t disagreeable, nor was she controlling; she was just a bitch. There was a difference, and she wanted to make it known. “You want to bust my goddamn eardrums, man, you can at least pick some good tunes,” she hollered back.

“It’s Skrillex,” was JohnBoy’s retort.

“It’s shit,” Kara corrected, and before she could barge in to dismantle his precious surround sound speakers herself, she heard a loud, booming laugh from behind her. It was that lively, spirited chuckle she knew could only belong to one person: Garrett O’Byrne. He placed one large hand on her shoulder, and with the other, he knocked the door once, hard enough to make the walls tremble around it, and called out to her annoying housemate. “You heard the boss,” he ordered, his baritone voice echoing loud and clear and commanding through the barren building. “Music down.”

As she’d known it would, the music stopped as quickly as it had started. Shoulders slumped in relief, Kara sank back into her chair and sulked over the counter. She afforded her brother a glance, her eyes scanning all six-feet-five-inches of him, mentally taking in his physical state. No wounds, no blood, just the leather jacket that barely fit his hulking frame, the tank shirt underneath, and the black designer jeans and combat boots that topped off the ensemble. Though his eyes, a creamy and inviting brown much like her own, emitted a bubbly warmth above the dimples that hinted at his boyish charm, he exuded danger. He treated Kara as nothing less than the fair princess he seemed to view her to be, but anyone else was fair game. He could switch moods in the drop of a hat, and oftentimes that happened and people ended up dead. Even his closest friends watched what they said around him, no matter how much they respected the man. And the rule they abided by most, the absolute golden rule in Garrett’s eyes, was to stay the hell away from his little sister. She was all things good and pure and sweet, and they were simply not.

It happened to bug the shit out of Kara, because she happened to like bad boys. And Garrett’s boys were the baddest of the bad, and some of them were downright delicously doable. JohnBoy, however, wasn’t among them. He was as vicious as the best of them, but he was also the lankiest and most unassuming. He looked more like a skater nerd than anything else, his arms mere decorations from the many tattoos that covered them, his neck so filled with ink she could barely tell what race he was from the neck down. He had gauges the size of her fist in both ears, and enough body piercings to make her cringe. Tattoos were hot, as were the occasional studs, but he overdid it in every regard. As if sensing her disgust at his presence, JohnBoy flung open the door and stepped outside. “Heading out,” he grumbled, and appearing as deflated as a young boy who’d had his hand slapped from the cookie jar, he brushed between them both and out the door. Good riddance.

Sitting up straighter in her stool, Kara turned back to Garrett. “Another secret outing?” she guessed.

Garrett’s grin was hard to miss. “The worst part is you already know the answer, Sissy,” he jabbed, bending over the bar at the far right of the room to grab himself a beer. He paused for a moment, glanced back at her, and thoughtfully grabbed another. He tossed her the extra can, and she caught it in mid-air. “Made some fucking good cash today, babe. Good fucking cash.”

He reached into his jeans pocket, providing the proof, a wad of hundreds that he slapped down on the desk in front of her. “Check that shit out.”

Kara didn’t even glance down. “Maybe you could invest in a more believable sign, Garrett. Maybe fancy up the place a bit. How you have an open bar in an auto repair shop and go without notice is beyond me.”

Her brother snorted and took a swig of his beer. “Mechanics are the biggest drunks, Kara.” He slid into the stool across from her and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders. Even sitting down, he dwarfed her. She could think of so many jobs that were more suitable for her brother. Football, for one. Modeling, for another, judging by the steady flow of girls he had coming in and out of his place and how physically fit he prided himself on being. Or maybe even parading around as one of those poor bastards she’d seen standing outside the Chick-Fil-A wearing an oversized cow costume, persuading people to ‘eat mor chikin’. “Why so low, baby girl? Not like classes are an issue.”

He knew she got stellar grades. He’d been the only one left to pressure her to do well and succeed after the sudden death of her parents at the too-young age of eleven. She’d always found it ironic that the man who’d killed and pillaged and bargained his soul with the Devil was also the man who wouldn’t accept anything but her absolute best. But he’d been as strict as her father had been in applying her studies, and she’d excelled in return, earning herself a scholarship to UCLA. Having a ball buster for a brother had its advantages. Kara sipped from her beer and sighed. “You know damned well why I’m so low.”

As smart as Garrett was, he wasn’t taking the hint this time. Either that, or he was really enjoying pushing her buttons. Knowing Garrett, it was the latter. “Listen, Sis, I do a lot of shit for you but there are certain things a man just won’t buy. If it’s absorbent and comes on a string, you can forget-“

Kara scowled, flashing him a glare that had him rearing back, impressed. “Ah. This is lecture time.” He folded his arms on top of the desk and leaned in. “Let me have it, sweetheart. I’m feeling generous today.”

Kara huffed, tired of this familiar game. “Know what, forget it. It’s the same song and dance, and you only get pissed whenever I bring it up.”

Garrett’s teasing smile remained, though it tensed an almost imperceptible amount at the threat of an impending argument. “This is my happy face, Kar. Most people are smart enough to keep it that way.”

The threat was obvious, but it was also empty. He’d never laid a hand on her, and he never would. Kara pushed away from her desk. “I’m bored,” she snapped. “Get some entertainment. A television or something. Maybe then, every time you walk out that door, I won’t find myself imagining every horrible thing possible happening to you before you get a chance to come back.”

Garrett’s only reaction was another laugh, but this one was without humor. She was pushing him, and it was working. “I’m here, aren’t I? How many times do I gotta say it?”

Kara decided to keep herself busy and less murderous by tidying up the papers littering the tables around the small room. “I guess until you become invincible, Garrett. This line of work can’t last forever. You’re almost thirty years old, yet here you are, waving around blood money like it’s going to make the situation any less fucked up.”

His posture had changed to something menacing. Were it anyone else, they’d have dropped the discussion with their tail tucked between their legs. But Kara was all he had left of his former life. She was safe. “I say the situation is pretty goddamned good, Kara. You want out? You got it.” He pointed one huge fist towards the door. “There’s the exit to fucking paradise.”

The idea was so tempting, just as it had been the other thousand times he’d mentioned it, that she found her feet edging towards that door and its promising freedom. The freedom to get herself a place, break herself off from the crime and the guilt and the darkness of it all and live a somewhat normal life. But life, no matter how flawed and unpredictable it was, would cease to exist without her brother. She had no close friends, just the pair of rowdy girls from college who reminded her all too well of the ones she'd ditched back in Texas. She was the outsider everywhere but here, and it was obvious. Kara didn’t budge. She didn’t turn to face him, either. Her response was a mere whisper. “You know I can’t.”

“You can,” her brother challenged, his tone softening at her words. “You just won’t.”

Kara still didn’t move from her spot at the room’s center. The magazine lay at her feet, and she nudged it with the toe of her boot.

“You think I like sleeping with one eye open?” Garrett continued, stepping towards her until they were only feet apart. “Yeah, I sought this out. It was easy money. It got us out of that shithole back home. I live with the things I’ve done; it doesn’t mean I like it, Kar. But you and me, we ain’t starving anymore. We got power, we got cash. I did this for us. I’m the one that can’t get out. You’re free. It’s why I don’t tell you where I’m off to every day, what I’m up to. How I support us is my burden to carry. Mine and mine alone.”

She felt his presence against her back, his hand on her shoulder, until she was forced to turn and meet his gaze. He reached out to grab a lock of her long, black hair and tucked it behind her ear. “You sit here thinking up the unimaginable, Sis. I go out every day and do it.”

She was powerless but to nod. She hadn’t the energy to dredge up an argument. He’d gone into this life for her, for the good of them both, and neither of them had willed it to get so bad, so demanding. It was simply the inevitable.

Garrett’s grip on her shoulder loosened, and he stepped back slowly, carefully, as if navigating his way out of a minefield. Kara let him.

“I, uh, got some shit to do,” he said, enforcing that steel bravado he always did after a particularly emotional heart-to-heart, his eyes searching everywhere but her face as he smoothed his beard. “You gonna be all right here?”

Again, Kara nodded. “I’ll summon you if a client shows up.”

He tried to smile, but it wasn’t all there. Not as it had been before. Kara almost hated herself for bringing down his mood. There’d been no use in making a bad thing worse. Instead of attempting to return the gesture, she picked up the abandoned magazine and strode back towards her desk. She barely noticed when the door to his office swung shut behind her, leaving her alone to her thoughts.

Hayden




Hayden was in the middle of his marketing class at UCLA. Almost getting through his first year, he glanced to his phone every couple of minutes watching as time seemed to stand still. It was Friday and he wanted to get the weekend started.

As the Professor finally ended his lecture and announced they could leave, Hayden was already packing up his bag. "You going tonight dude..?" The voice said, Hayden looked to see one of his classmates, Zack Taylor, your typical jock stereotype.

As Hayden started to give a nod in response, he was reading an e-mail on his iphone that had just come in. Zack noticed the expression on his buds face and said, "What's up?"

"I just got an e-mail from financial aid, they are not covering me for summer classes...I filled out the form already, thinking it would be okay.." Hayden said, a bit of desperation in his voice.

"Damn dude...that sucks. Partying still though right?" Zack said, Hayden just gave a look and finally nodded,"Yeah..should be good, I have to go see about this. I'll talk to you later."

They parted ways and Hayden made his way to the registration office. Heading over to the financial aid section, he stood in line behind two other students. They were talking to an older woman who did not seem at all interested in their problems.

Finally, the woman hollered "Next..." and Hayden made his way to her, she finally looked at him and he started to make his case, "Hi...I just got an e-mail saying I won't get financial aid for summer classes, I don't understand because I filled out everything properly..."

He had his folder with papers in it, for clarification. The woman asked his name and he gave it, leaning slightly on her counter. She eyed him doing that,"Please don't do that...,now Mr.Sommers it says here you missed the deadline to register for it."

Hayden looked at her, "Shit, I did completely forget...." The woman pursed her lips together,"I regret to inform you but rules are rules."

He looked at her, thinking it over. It was all too much, he tried to do too much, L.A. was such a distraction. "I still have till end of the semester right..? To make up my grade average?"

"Unfortunately Mr.Sommers, students who require financial aid need to be approved as soon as possible." She says, looking at him emotionless. He looks at her, not believing what she's said.

"Is their anything else?" She says, typing something on her computer and he just shakes his head, walking out of the office. He swears loudly and a student passing him gives him a weird look.

So many rules, so many guidelines. He needed to take the courses in the summer.

He got back to his dorm, roommate was out and he grabbed a beer out of their mini fridge. His laptop on the desk was on and he could hear the skype noise, alerting him someone was trying to video chat with him.

He knew all to well who it would be, clicking accept he saw his aunt. "Hayden, just getting back from your classes?"

"Yeah..finally Friday" he said, letting his bag drop to the floor and drank his beer. "How's it going with you Aunt Sheryl?"

"Oh couldn't be better, Martha keeps asking about you...says Tony misses having you working at his shop."

Hayden smirks,"I bet he does...you told him how I have no future or life there right?"

"I did, you're 21 and want to live your dreams...how is school going anyways?" She says, looking at him a little worried. His aunt took him in when he was 12, after his parents had died in a car crash.

"It's okay..." He said, drinking his beer. She looked at him,"Hayden, what is wrong?"

"Nothing...just took a test, look I have to get going Aunt Sheryl. I'll talk to you soon." He said, about to hang up the skype. She looks at him,"You take care of yourself...love you."

"You too, bye." He hangs it up and sits at his chair, only a moments silence when his roommate Ryan comes bursting in. He was a big man, and it was no exaggeration. He came in with a slice of pizza in his mouth, as he carried a bunch of books in his hand and dropped them on the bed.


He looked over at Hayden, "You bringing any chicks back tonight?" They had separate rooms but shared a common area, Hayden was grabbing another beer, "I am starting the party a little early...so most likely, you making any head way with, shit what's her name again?"

"Janice.." Ryan says, finishing his pizza and taking a beer, "And no, she doesn't see me that way...I'm like a big teddy bear. I will be sitting at the computer tonight."

"Come to Sarah's with me then..." Hayden said, to be nice but deep down his friends did not like his roommate. Ryan looked at Hayden, "No, it's okay Hayden...I have a level of Assassin's Creed to finish."

"The invasion one..?" Hayden said, grabbing some things to make a sandwich. Ryan looked at him,"Yeah..it's a bitch one to pass bro."

Hayden nod, laughing "I know...it's probably why I failed most of my classes. Playing that fucking level instead of studying."

Ryan simply nodded,"Probably..." and headed back into his room. Hayden ate his food as he listened to music in his room and chatted on facebook, slightly studying and looking up what he can do about school.

He needed 2 grand, to do these classes. He had been working since he was 16 at a local car shop in his home town but money in L.A., which he seemed to notice, it went very quickly. Especially when you got to charm the ladies.

It was around 10 p.m., when he started to grab his leather jacket and head out. He wanted to completely forget the situation, although he knew he couldn't. Going home was not an option, he wanted to be here, to start his own business one day.

L.A. was the place to be, his future.

He partied all night long, eventually passing out. He woke up to a woman laying next to him, he looked at her and definitely had no idea what her name was. He also was in her apartment, he had no idea where he was. He quietly got up and left as quick as he could.

Heading down the street, he could tell this was not a side of L.A. he was used to, he must have really partied last night is what went through his mind. He passed a car repair shop, glancing at it. It had a "Now hiring" sign in the window.

He looked at that and was back in the area around 2, to drop off a resume. He walked into the shop,in jeans and the most respectable looking shirt he could find and he saw one guy in the back hunched over a car and Hayden was about to say something, when he heard a voice and looked over to a woman, a very hot woman. She was edgy, he walked over to her, "I just wanted to drop off a resume...I'm interested in working here..." He finally said, as she started to get up and he could make out the amazing body she had, he looked back to her eyes and tried to keep his focus on them.

The moment Kara laid eyes on the man now standing across from her, she knew she recognized him from somewhere. Not the face - no, she'd recognize that face anywhere, it was so gorgeous - but the hair. The body. The presence. But she would have been able to place a face like his. Intrigued, she'd watched as he'd wandered in, self-consciously tidying up the untucked edges of his white dress shirt and stuffing them back behind the waistband of his jeans before setting his eyes on her.

The second thing she noted was that he didn't belong in her part of the city at all.

She thumbed through her magazine, not really seeing the pages at all, and let one page linger erect between her fingers. Was he lost? Just as she was prepared to ask, he spoke for her, answering her every question with an inquiry about a job. He was looking for work. Here.

Kara chewed on the inside of her cheek, for it was all she could do not to laugh. And then, though it was beyond rude, she did. She cackled, her brown eyed gaze meandering from those arched, chiseled brows to the strong jawline framing a set of full, kissable lips, to the interview-ready ensemble, and howled a bit louder. Then she caught his alarmed look, his eyes as blue as glaciers and as wide as could be, and mentally chided herself for her tactlessness. The poor thing had no clue what this place was really for.

Her laughter died out, but her grin remained. This man, this pretty boy with the beautifully mussed hair and just the right amount of masculine stubble to land him on the cover of GQ, was such a sight for sore eyes, she just couldn't help it. He was hot as fuck. And, as luck would have it, he was the first one in a long time who didn't know it was considered a crime of the worst kind to flirt a little bit with the mischievous Kara O'Byrne.

Leaning forward across the front desk with an apologetic smile, she set her shoulders just so, giving them that extra smoosh to emphasize her cleavage beneath the low set corset top, and flipped her hair to the side. "Oh, GQ," she purred as she peered into the aqua depths of his eyes. "I think you've found yourself on the wrong side of the tracks."

Hayden

He looked at her, the name she called him and wrote it off at first "It says "Hiring Now" outside, therefore...here I am. I won't bore you with the details but I really do need a job and I am very skilled when it comes to working with cars...,is their maybe..someone else I could talk to?"

He didn't care if he was rude, she was hot but he needed money. Wasn't going to let some rock wannabe get in his way.

Kara's amusement at the man only grew at his reaction. He was quite hot when he got all fired up. Taking her sweet time, Kara rose from behind the desk and slithered down the side until she stood before him, her tight jeans a little lower on her hips and her high heeled boots practically sewn around her calves. She gave him a once-over, and then smirked. "Someone's feisty. Turn around, Beautiful."

He looked too out of place and was too damned defensive. Kara knew better than to let this guy greet her brother without a good pat-down first. He opened his mouth to protest, and she trapped him from behind before he could predict her movements, then plastered him against the desk, her front molded against his back. A nice back, she added mentally, as he writhed against the heat of her body.

The front of her thigh bumped against something hard, and her eyes homed in on the bulge in his back pocket. A wallet, probably. Sharp enough to know to check it all, she slipped her hand inside, hoping with all she had in her that her brother wouldn't choose now, of all times, to intrude. After way too long in this little place, she was finally starting to have some fun.

Hayden widened his eyes slightly and then eased up as her hand lingered,"Really this is sexual harassment but if this is considered part of your interview process I'll go along with it...."

Kara slid the wallet out of his pocket and eyed the insides. It was pretty barren, really. She didn't really care what was in it. She just wanted to be thorough.

"Hayden Sommers," she read aloud, gazing over the picture on his driver's license. "Issued in Arizona, approved by a friendly cactus." She leafed through the meager bills inside. "And twelve dollars to your name."

Her fingertips, still encased in the folds, brushed against what felt like foil packaging, and she pulled up three condoms. "Well, I'd say you came prepared," she added, an eyebrow raised. "That's an attribute we look for."

When he looked up in alarm, she stuffed the contents back into their compartments, waved the wallet like a white flag and placed it on the desk in front of him. "I'm not a thief, sweetheart," she assured him. "Check it. It's all there."

When he reached to take it back, she let her hands roam the other side of his jeans and plunged her fingers inside. Nothing else. Definitely not a cop.

Feeling a tad guilty for the stress she was putting him through, Kara stepped back and freed Hayden from her odd embrace. "You're good to go," she told him, smiling as sweetly as she could as she turned to cross the length of the room towards her brother's office. "Sit and look pretty. I'll go see what good ole' Garrett's up to."

He looked at her walking off, "And after all that feeling around, I think you owe me dinner..."

Kara didn't glance over her shoulder as she wanted to, but she was grinning from ear to ear. "Just don't say that shit in front of my brother and I'll take you up on it," she called back, and as if he'd been summoned, Garrett traipsed his way through his office door before she could knock, filling the doorway with the bulk of his body.

His eyes went from her face to Hayden's, who stood, straightening his posture to that of an interviewee prepared for business, and Kara felt herself smiling. "Up for an interview?" she asked Garrett, gesturing towards their guest with a slight bob of her head. "You know," she added, in a tone clearly meant for Hayden to hear, "something that'll make use of his automotive knowledge."

Garrett paused for a moment, looked Hayden over, and grinned. "A stray one, huh? Don't get those too often."

"Be nice," Kara advised in a whisper. "He's not a cop. Just clueless."

Having already taken note of the blush that had risen in their guest's cheeks, Garrett frowned. "I'm assuming you frisked him, then."

Kara grinned. "And hated every minute of it."

"So I can tell," was Garrett's tired reply, and without a word more, he strode past her and extended his hand towards Hayden. "Garrett O'Byrne."

When Hayden returned the shake, Garrett twisted his gaze back to Kara. "Ignore my sister. Kid's got no tact."

Kara rolled her eyes and marched back to the desk to retrieve her magazine, but again she scrolled through passages without really reading. From above the pages, she watched her gorgeous GQ prepare to find out just what this operation was and run screaming. Too bad, she mused. He'd have made for some great eye candy.

Hayden took a look at Garrett and wouldn't lie, he was intimidated. Glancing slightly to whom he said was his sister, he looks back and just gives a nod," Names Hayden by the way and it's not a problem...look, I didn't mean to bother you or anything, I just saw the posting outside...getting a job in L.A., not the easiest thing..trust me on that."

He was led into the office and sat down, the door open and looked Garrett.

Fuck be damned. Garrett hadn't seen a stray in a while. This kid was easily from the better parts of the city, and nothing about him said he was a potential client. He'd probably never touched a heavy drug or a weapon in his life. Hell, he'd probably never even hit anyone. A face that feminine? He probably made the ladies cream their panties, but he certainly wasn't the type Garrett was looking for. Not in this line of business.

But Garrett knew how hard it had been to find a job all those years ago, and hell, that had been before all the economic bullshit started. He empathized, and for that, he'd lay it down as gently as was possible.

Resting his back against the large mahogany desk that took up half the space in his small office, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the kid. He looked nervous, but determined. Pretty boy had some stones, after all.

"Sommers, you ever go to a place called Titty Bar?"

Whatever the kid had been hoping to hear, it wasn't that. His brows furrowed, and he looked too shocked to be pissed. His lips opened, then closed, and Garrett took over the rest of the speech.

"Because there ain't one. They pretty up those titles. We go to gentlemen's clubs. Sounds nicer, right? More respectable."

Poor kid was still stumped.

"That sign out there, brother? It's just a sign. Hate to break it to you, but what goes down here is a hell of a lot deeper than installing transmissions."

He wouldn't say it out loud; the key was all in the look he gave. It said, there's more to this than you know, and you're wise to stay away. He leaned a little closer, not to intimidate, but to drive his point home. "I hear the outlets over on 9th are looking for applicants come October. I'd try my luck there."

Hayden looked at Garrett, slightly pissed off and took a second before he answered,"Is that not a guy...I saw fixing a car or not? I get it, you're a cover up for something illegal obviously, I don't give a shit. Outlet's are not going to cut it but I can see...you led me in here to waste my fucking time."

He stood up to leave.

Well, color me impressed. Garrett watched as the kid stood and made his way for the door, and suddenly he felt like a dick. He had enough money. He could make use of the kid, whether it be hiring him as a janitor or letting him tinker with the small assortment of cars and bikes out back. They brought in extra cash on the side for fixing up the rides of the neighborhood people, and though it was hardly anything to keep a man busy, he could try. Hard-hearted as he could be, Garrett saw a bit of himself in the kid.

"Fuck's sake," he grumbled, stopping Hayden in his tracks. He ran a hand over his beard, something he did often, as though that small gesture could get his overworked, tired brain to work any faster, and slumped against his desk. "All right."

The kid waited, his jaw still set in that hard, defiant line, and Garrett found it refreshing. When was the last time someone had given him that look and gotten away with it? He honestly couldn't remember.

"You've got balls, kid. I like it. Start here tomorrow at noon, see what you can do with that ugly fucking Jeep in the back. Then we'll talk."

Hayden looked at Garrett and though he was happy to have a job, he decided to keep it cool and simply said, "I will be here, my balls might just show up as well." He shook Garrett's hand in respect and left the office, walking past the sister.

He looked at her, "Still laughing?"

Kara grinned at Hayden's words and shook her head over her magazine, her dark hair falling in little ringlets over her shoulders as she looked him up and down. "He blessed you with the Titty Bar speech, huh?"

Even Hayden had to crack an awkward smile at that, and her smirk grew a little wider at the sight of a genuine smile. He continued walking past, and she buried her face back in her magazine. Just as his hand touched the handle to the exit, she let herself speak.

"Congratulations, GQ. You've just sold your soul to the Devil."

Hayden looked back at her, "I would go all cheesy and say I have a date promised with the Angel here but considering what you did, I doubt you're anything but..." He looked at her and she turned away, blushing.

He made his way casually back over to the desk, leaned on it slightly,"You know...I never got your name?"

Feeling mischievous, Kara leaned forward until her elbow was almost touching his. They were so close, she could smell a hint of the winterfresh gum he'd probably been chewing on the way here. She bet if she pressed her lips to that luscious, pink mouth and their tongues collided, she'd feel the sweet burn of it long after it was done. She resisted the urge, knowing her brother was watching from his office door. It wouldn't be long before he put the fear of God into Hayden, and she wanted dibs on Hayden's body before it got to that point. She'd been starved of a connection like this for far too long.

"My name?" she repeated back to him, darting her tongue between her lips to moisten them as she did. "Joe's Bar, nine tonight."

Hayden looked at her, this girl was insanely hot. Never had he met one like her, all the UCLA girls were nothing compared to this, she knew what she was doing and he liked it, all of it.

Hearing finally what she said, he looked at her "Interesting name..., kind of long though." He smirked slightly and could see Garrett coming out, this look on the guys face was enough to make you want to shit your pants.

Hayden just didn't know what else to say and therefore he finally left, getting into his car and drove back to the school. Not only did he have a job, had a date with a super hot chick, he also had a month to hopefully come up with the money.

Kara looked once at her brother, then at Hayden's retreating form, and scowled. "Don't even start."

"Do your fucking job and I wouldn't have to," Garrett responded, his glare seeming to fixate itself on the windows of the exit door, long after Hayden had disappeared.

Knowing the reasons for his attitude went far beyond his big brother protectiveness, Kara ignored the childish need to snap and instead reached for Garrett's shoulder. She gave it what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze, something that spoke more than words ever could. "Garrett, it's been five years. I'm tough."

His icy gaze flickered from the door to his sister's eyes, and they didn't warm to her understanding expression in the slightest. "And anybody who's willing to work for me don't deserve it." His eyes narrowed on her ensemble, which she'd been flaunting to Sommers since the moment he'd walked in. "Wish you'd put on a goddamned jacket. And clean up. You want to fancy up the place, you fucking got it. Just make sure it keeps you busy."

Garrett's bossy nature was back. He wasn't in the mood to talk or be reasonable, and it was obvious. Knowing nothing came out of pushing him, she backed off and stomped back to the littered items strewn around the room. "You're an asshole," she spat.

Garrett sighed. "So I've been told."
-----

Eight o'clock rolled around after an almost agonizing wait, and Kara found herself back at home getting ready for her date. She was going to look hot. Fuck that, she was going to look downright edible. A date with a man who didn't have a clue who she was and what her brother did? She was going to enjoy the hell out of it. She was going to enjoy the hell out of Hayden Sommers.

She pulled on a skintight dress just short of classy, some heels and silver earrings and bracelets and whatnots, and a spritz of her favorite perfume, one that was so hard to find she kept it for only the best of moments, and drove off towards Joe's Bar.

She found her eyes first roaming the room for his now familiar face instead of marching up to the bar outright, and located him idling behind her near the door through which she'd just entered. He'd been there and waiting, punctual and as tantalizing as ever, dressed in slightly less cheesy clothing. It had changed to a simple black tee and a baggier pair of jeans, his hair even a little more frazzled than before. Did he know the bedhead look got her hot, or was it just a hunch?

Finding herself lost for words for the first time since they'd met, she simply offered him a smile reminiscent of a schoolgirl on a date with the quarterback, and sauntered on over. "You made it," she grinned. "Looking dashing, GQ."

Hayden smiled at her, "Enough with the GQ, I will have you know I am not some starving actor, I actually am trying to get an education. Since you have a nickname for me though, I will have to think up one for you...of course, hot as fuck is an easy one I am going to go for right now."

He said, as he eyed her up and down. They sat themselves at a booth.

Kara considered his words. She could call him by name for a night. After the display she'd pulled on him earlier, he deserved it.

His eyes roaming her body like an emaciated man eying a tasty burger helped matters, too.

"Alright, Hayden," she allowed, leaning across the table and resting her manicured hands atop it. "It better be one hell of an education you're trying to get, striking a deal with my brother like that. Tell me about it."

He looks at her,"Well, whatever your name is, I don't know what he does or if I am interested in knowing. If I can fix the cars, that are cover for his real business and he pays me...then I will take it."

The drinks they ordered came, he took a drink "Speaking of your brother, he's pretty scary."

Deep down, he was curious what Garrett did. Though he was desperate, wanting to not go back and make something of himself here in L.A.

Kara wasn't dumb; she knew it wasn't her place to speak about her brother's doings. If GQ - Hayden, she corrected herself - was so desperate for a job, she wouldn't stop him. The pay was outrageous, anyway. Whatever financial stump he was in, he would soon be out of it in no time if he went to work for the famous Garrett O'Byrne. And, to be quite honest with herself, she liked the idea of keeping him around.

Kara let out a sigh and fiddled with the napkin that had been left on the table. "Firstly, the name's Kara," she finally responded, looking back up into those soft blue eyes, the ones that were so bright they gave her a shock each time she saw them. She imagined how they'd look half-closed in ecstasy later tonight when she rocked her hips against him. The mere thought of it sent a fresh wave of heat from her limbs to her core. She had to shake herself of the thought in order to continue.

"Secondly, Hayden, I'm a lot of things but I'm not a liar. Truth is, you don't want to know what he does. He's going to warn you to steer clear of me, but for tonight, we have free reign, and I plan to take full advantage of that freedom and ride your fucking brains out, then act like it never even happened when you come into work tomorrow afternoon."

He was just eating some fries, hearing what she said and almost choked on it. L.A. women were forward sure, he was good looking and that was something he knew, he wasn't blind.

"Before I kill myself later...for saying this, instead of getting the check right now but what does your brother do?" He looks at her serious.

Kara found herself, yet again, lost for words. She'd been hoping for a night to relieve her frustrations, not this. But that was what she got when she divulged too much about her brother. Men began running like scared dogs.

When she found a rare clueless soul, she took him home and made the night worth the wait. Obviously she'd been a little too honest with this one.

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. There was nothing left to say. She'd make an ass of herself and simply say nothing, and let the night go down in failure. Damn Garrett all to hell.

Just as she was about to give up and wish him a nice fucking night, a hand clapped her on the shoulder and she turned to find Chocolate, one of Garrett's boys, standing behind her. His eyes set on Hayden's, then back on Kara's, and his lips flattened into a thin line. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything here, Boss?"

Kara wanted to scream. Of course he was. He knew he was. Garrett had probably sent him in the first place to protect her goddamned stolen virtue. Gritting her teeth to hide her annoyance, she forced a smile and stood. "Well, it was nice seeing you here, GQ," she quipped, grabbing her purse from the table. "Small world. Thanks for the beer."

Giving Chocolate a glare that said don't even think about reporting this to Garrett, she turned on her heels and stalked out of the bar.