Read Kicker (DS Fight Club Book 1) Online
Authors: Josie Kerr
Kicker (DS Fight Club Book 1)
This is a work of fiction and does not in any way advocate irresponsible behavior. This book contains content that is not suitable for readers 17 and under. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
Any resemblance to actual things, events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, places, brands, products, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and ownership of any location names or products mentioned in this book. The author received no compensation for any mention of said trademark.
Cover image:
Photographer:
RLS Model Images
Model: Matthew Eaton
Copyright © 2016 Josie Kerr
Published by Hot Words and Cold Coffee, LLC
All rights reserved.
Digital Edition
to the lovers and the fighters
Charlotte Markham ignored her mother’s scrutiny by quietly adjusting the placement of the table setting until the chef brought the food to the table.
“Charlotte, stop tapping your foot. It’s irritating,” her father said.
“Sorry, David.” She sucked in a quiet breath to steady her nerves and then resumed tapping her toes inside of her shoes.
“Charlotte, dear, that color is divine on you.”
Charlotte’s head snapped up at her mother’s compliment. “Um, thank you, Angelique.”
Angelique Markham cocked her head at her only child, surveying her from across the round table. “I generally think of that particular shade as very aging, but it suits you.”
“Oh.”
“Though, a woman your age should not wear her hair as long as you do. And it’s too dark. It needs to be lighter.”
Charlotte huffed a breath.
So much for a compliment.
“This is my natural color, Angelique.”
“And this is
my
natural color.” Angelique’s chestnut hair tumbled around her shoulders. “I’m just saying that some people are suited for long hair, and some are not. Just like your purple suit. Not a lot of people can wear that particular shade.”
Charlotte made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat.
“But you really
should
think about cutting your hair, Charlotte. It . . . weighs you down.”
Charlotte frowned.
“I’m just saying that you could do with something more flattering is all,” Angelique continued.
“So you’re saying it makes me look fat. Or rather, fatter.”
Angelique rolled her eyes. “It’s just much too . . .
too
. When it’s back in that tight knot, your face looks like a full moon. And when you wear it down, all I see is . . . hair. It’s just too much.”
“Fine, I’ll wear a ponytail.”
Angelique looked at her daughter in horror. “Dear Lord, that’s even worse. Way too juvenile. You are almost forty years old.”
“I’m a week out from my thirty-sixth birthday.”
“That’s almost forty. . . .”
“Oh my God, Mother. You are in rare form today.”
Angelique pursed her lips. “How so?”
“Just never mind,” Charlotte grumbled.
“Oh, Charlotte, I got the strangest phone call a few days ago,” David said, changing the subject from mundane things that were of no interest to him.
Charlotte froze, a roll in one hand and a knife in the other. “Oh?”
“Why would a security firm called Tara Security Systems be inquiring about you?” David Markham peered across the table at his daughter.
Well, here it goes, Charlotte. Just get it over with.
“Because I’m their newest employee.”
“You?”
“Yes. Me.” Charlotte slowly buttered the roll and popped it by handfuls into her mouth.
God, so good. I’ll be damned if I have this conversation on an empty stomach.
David threw his hands up in frustration.
“So, you just
quit
? Without telling anyone, you just changed jobs on a whim?”
Charlotte squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She was going to look confident even if she was scared senseless.
“No, David. I did not
just
quit. I gave three weeks’ notice. And the whole interview process with Tara Security Systems took six months.”
So there.
“I pulled a lot of strings to get you that position with Brad’s father, Charlotte.”
“And I didn’t ask you to do that, David. I didn’t even want that job.”
David slammed his fist on the table. “
You
embarrassed me. Sid Gloster is a close friend of mine who did me a favor, and as repayment, you quit after not even a year and go join some . . . start-up.”
“This start-up is one of the top security firms in the country.”
“Sid’s firm has been in business for thirty years. People would kill for a chance to work there.”
Charlotte took a deep breath and kept her voice level. “It just wasn’t a good fit for me, David.”
“And I suppose Brad wasn’t a good fit either?”
Oh,
that’s
what this was about
.
“No, as a matter of fact, he wasn’t.”
Steady, Charlotte. You’ve got this, girl. You don’t owe anybody any explanations.
“What the hell happened
there
?”
She shrugged. “We just . . . grew apart.”
“You and Bradley broke up?” Charlotte could not suppress her groan at her mother’s voice. “Oh, honey, I really liked him. He’s so big and handsome.”
“Really, Mother. If you like him so much,
you
date him.”
“Charlotte.” Angelique’s eyes were wide, but nothing else on her face moved.
You need to lay off the Botox, Angelique.
After a few tense moments, Charlotte straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I need to get going. I have an early morning meeting with London. Thank you for inviting me for brunch.”
She stood, inclined her head at her father and mother, continued through the house and out the front door.
*****
“How’d it go, killer?”
“About how I figured it would, Brad,” Charlotte said with a sigh. “But I didn’t cry or anything, so that’s good.”
“Excellent,” her closest friend said with a laugh. “I’m so proud of you, Charlotte, even though I hate that I’m not going to see your lovely face in the mornings.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet.” Charlotte sighed. “But you’ve got an issue. Someone from Gloster called my father and told him about the job at Tara. David thought he was being sneaky, but there’s no way that anyone at Tara would have called
him
about my position.”
Brad cursed. “I think I probably know who it is, but don’t worry. You just keep being you. You’re going to impress the hell out of Rory Doyle and the crew at Tara Security Systems.”
“You really think so?”
“Charlotte, honey, I
know
so. Now, did you get to eat, or did those buttmunches spoil that, too?”
“I had a roll and then I came home, but I’m just going to have something here. I don’t think I can deal with anybody—even you.”
She heard Brad sigh. “Okay, LottieLou. Call me after you get home, and tell me how your first day went, okay? And give me the scoop on Doyle. That man is hot like fire.”
“Oh, Lord, Brad. Take a cold shower,” she said with a laugh. “But I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. Kisses to you. And congrats, Charlotte. I really mean it.”
“Thanks, Brad. Bye-bye.”
Charlotte clicked off the phone and tossed it to the couch with another sigh. She looked around the apartment that her father paid for, her mother decorated, and she hated.
Her cell phone buzzed with a message from her mother, advising her of birthday reservations at a swanky midtown Atlanta restaurant.
“I don’t even like that place,” Charlotte muttered to herself. “You’d think the Birthday Girl would get to choose some place
she
likes. But then, heaven forbid that I actually
eat
something.”
So typical.
Charlotte could feel herself unraveling. She sucked in a shaky breath and put her hands flat on the cool granite kitchen counter.
Breathe in and out, Charlotte. That’s all you have to do.
She removed the small dinner from the microwave, looked at it, and immediately dumped it in the garbage can.
Goal number one for my thirty-sixth year: learn to freaking cook.
Charlotte looked around her apartment until she spied what she needed. She grabbed a soda from the refrigerator, filled up a large cup with ice, and plopped down on the couch with a notebook that had exactly one entry in it, dated last year to the date. She marked through the number five, turning it into a six, and began writing.
When she had filled ten pages with her goals and dreams—some realistic, some unrealistic, some already complete so she could mark them off—she leaned back on the couch and once again looked around her apartment.
“I
am
almost forty years old. It’s time I grew up.”
And with that proclamation, she got up and went into her bedroom to pick out her outfit for the first day.