I wasn’t about to change in front of my pretty, slim classmates, all gliding through adolescence with flat tummies, clear skin, and cool clothes from Forever 21.
While chatting up Mrs. Holloway about anything I could think of, I would watch, out of the corner of my eye, for when the first of the girls started to exit the locker room, fresh and clean, to head to their next classes. I’d say goodbye to my teacher and rush back to my locker to change lightning fast. This didn’t leave but a couple of minutes to not only dress and put my towel in the laundry, but also scoot to my next class on the far side of the building.
Which meant I had to run.
But I’d been doing this since the beginning of the school year. I had my routine down pat.
Until the day one of the Populars decided to have some fun at my expense. The Populars, who were now the world-famous Dirty Bandit.
Yup, I’d grown up with those assholes.
As I was heading to Mrs. Siebert’s English class, Stone, Ennis, and Hugh—now the band’s front men—lounged along the school corridor with their other genetically and socially blessed friends. And just as I whipped around the corner with only seconds before the late bell rang, one of them extended his foot.
Right in my path.
My wipeout caused such a ruckus that Mrs. Siebert stuck her head into the hallway to see what was going on. As soon as she did, the snickering Populars slunk away to their classes, late as always, with not a care in the world.
After the initial pain in the knee I’d fallen on had migrated to my pride, I picked up my books and limped into class. Mrs. Siebert smiled at me kindly and had everyone open their textbooks while I got settled in, as if to give me a moment to compose myself.
I’d wanted to cry, of course. But I hadn’t. Not then.
Why did I feel like crying now, ten years later?
What were the minuscule chances that after all these years I’d see these guys again, must less work with them—the nemeses of my high school years? In what freaking universe does a weird coincidence like that happen?
Apparently, mine.
Yes, I’d wanted success at the firm. Yes, I’d wanted to impress my boss with work on an important client.
But did I want to spend one second with three guys who had their heads so far up their asses they’d made me want to forget my teenage years like they were one long, bad dream?
They’d taken such pleasure in tripping me that day that they’d continued to subject me to their petty humiliations until we graduated.
So, my sweet revenge was to reinvent myself, become a success, and never set eyes on them again.
What was the likelihood that they’d make it in a town like Los Angeles, anyway, where every other kid has big plans for a rock star future?
Why’d they have to be the ones who rocketed to fame? Where was the fairness in that?
And where was the fairness in, years later, my having to take them on as a client?
I was, essentially, going to work for them.
The indignities I’d left behind?
Hello! We’re back!
I’d started transforming myself the day after high school graduation as if there were no time to waste. I was heading to college and my old life was going to be pushed so far into the past, it would be like it had never happened. The summer between my senior year in high school and freshman year in college was going to be transformative. But not by accident. I knew there was work ahead.
I started riding my bike to the fast food restaurant where I was a cashier. No more hitching rides. I stopped eating burgers and fries, replacing them with salad. I ditched my glasses for contact lenses. I got highlights.
I bought some cool clothes at Forever 21 with my summer earnings.
I lost my virginity to the boy down the street who’d started showing an interest in me. It was not particularly memorable. Just something I wanted to get out of the way.
It had been a busy summer.
And so I embarked on a new, reinvigorated life, light years away from the jerks who’d looked down on me in high school.
Now they were back.
Did someone say life was fair?
Because it was not.
Chapter 3
CORAL
“I was thinking, Randall…” I said, returning to his office and helping myself to a chair.
His walls were covered in photos of him meeting various celebrities. I knew they were chance meetings and that he didn’t really know them. But I didn’t let on. He deserved to have his fun.
He took a sip of his coffee. “Hey, Coral. You got some ideas for Dirty Bandit? You’re meeting with them tomorrow. Aren’t you excited?”
Good god. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
He leaned forward on his desk, waiting for my pearls of wisdom.
Always a fan of ripping off the bandage when it came to bad news, I laid it on him with little hesitation. “Randall, I can’t work on that account. I’m sorry. I really am.”
Whew. I’d done it.
I sat back in my chair, waiting for him to fire me. Not that he was the firing type, but I’d never pushed him on anything like this before.
And I didn’t want to be fired. But if that were the price to pay, so be it.
He studied me, clearly trying to figure out how to respond.
Would he cajole me, gently moving me toward the realization that yes, this was work I was longing to do?
Would he strong-arm me, threatening my future at the firm and rescinding his offer of potential partnership?
Or would he simply let me off the hook and assign Dirty Bandit to someone else in the office?
“Can you elaborate, Coral?” he asked patiently.
I took a deep breath. “Randall, I grew up with those guys. They aren’t nice people.”
His eyes widened. “No way. You already know them?” He grinned like he’d just won the lottery.
“Yeah, um, and in high school—”
He sprang to his feet and clapped his hands in glee. “Oh my god. It’s meant to be,” he cried.
This was not going how I’d planned.
“Randall, I’m not sure you heard me right—”
“This is incredible. Getting a high-profile client like this has been my dream for years. But your having a relationship with them? That’s freaking perfect. I bet you broke all their hearts back then,” he giggled. “They were probably all in love with you, huh?”
I think he had tears in his eyes.
I know I had tears in mine.
While Randall was imagining I’d been a high school heartbreaker, I was remembering the anxiety I’d suffered at the hands of those three Populars.
I’d lost then and it looked like I was about to lose again now.
I thought I’d left that shit behind. These days, I was smart. And sort of successful. And even a little pretty.
That awkward geek from Perry High School no longer existed.
So if she no longer existed, why did I feel like she was gaining ground on me, getting ready to spray-paint loser down the side of my freshly-washed Prius, just like there once had been down the front of my hall locker?
Chapter 4
STONE
The morning sun blinded the shit out of me as I emerged from the dingy, disgusting county jail. I pulled open the passenger door of Bryan’s black Mercedes, closing it with that satisfying airlock thud that only cars of that caliber have.