Trials and Tiaras (Untouchable #7) - Heather Long Page 0,117
girl…” I reminded him, and he threw his head back and laughed.
“Open it, let’s get the insanity out of the way, and then back to your magical birthday weekend.”
“Magical is it?” I squinted at him as I slit the envelope open. “Hmm, you’re taking me to a Torched concert. Again. Not sure you can top this, Mr. Sexy Pants.”
He snickered. “Challenge accepted.”
Inside the envelope was some weird contract looking thing. Great, the bad billionaire dad gave me some kind of legal contract? Archie held out a hand, and I passed it over.
A snort escaped him. “Damn, Grandpa, that was cold.”
“What?”
“I get why Grandpa waited for the day he did. See the executable date here?” He pointed to the notarized date, which happened when we were on spring break.
“Okay, I don’t get it.”
“Grandpa pushed him out at Standish, and he didn’t have the support or the shares to hold Grandpa off, partially because he gave me ten percent on my birthday and he just handed you ten percent today.”
Ten percent?
“Of Standish?”
“Yep,” Archie said, folding it closed and sliding it into the envelope. “Guess you can now take care of me in the style to which I want to become accustomed. However, you cannot hire Jeremy away. I’ll keep paying for him.”
I gawked at him.
“He can’t just give me…”
“He did.”
“But it’s yours.”
“I don’t care.”
“Archie.”
“Babe,” he teased me by mocking my tone. “Stop worrying about him or this. It’s time to take the birthday girl to the concert. Especially since the quickies are now on hold since Rachel got here before we ditched him.”
I laughed. “Subtle.”
“Nothing subtle about it,” he teased. “Birthday sex? Definitely on the menu.”
“Good thing we already got a start on that,” I teased him as we headed up the short steps to the door.
“And that we have all weekend.”
A shiver went through me at the promise twining every syllable.
The next hour flew past as Rachel helped me with my makeup as we got ready. Through unspoken agreement, no one brought up Archie’s dad, and we skipped on past to having fun.
“Live a little,” Rachel insisted when she pulled one of the black skirts out of my closet. “You always wear jeans. Drive the boys nuts. Let them wonder if you’re commando all night.”
“Rachel,” I scolded with a laugh.
“Trust me, it’s your birthday. Make them work for it. Plus, it’s going to get hot at the concert and the skirt will be easier than the jeans for cooling off.”
She did have a point.
“I will if you will,” I told her and she smirked.
Of course, she probably brought a skirt. “I intended to, we’ve got backstage passes and I have killer legs. Not as killer as yours, but since you have them all tied up in a game of Twister around those four, I’ll be able to steal the show.”
I went with one of the concert tank tops I’d gotten in Colorado and tied it so it bared a section of midriff, then paired it with a black skirt. Rachel dug into my closet and found a pair of boots I hadn’t worn since sophomore year. But they were calf length and had a slight heel to them.
Thrusting them at me, she said, “Wear these. Do you have fishnet stockings?”
“No,” I told her. “And I don’t want any.”
“True. Going commando would preclude any kind of stockings or tights.”
“I’m not going commando.”
“Live a little,” Rachel teased. “You’re eighteen and have four hot hunks ready to do you any where at any time. Can you imagine sexing it up during the concert? All that thumping music? Hot sweaty bodies moving? I bet you could sit right down on one of them and writhe your way to—”
I clapped a hand over her mouth. “Unless you plan on telling me about the dick you’ve been testing out, you’re going to leave their dicks out of it.”
She wrinkled her nose, then rolled her eyes and huffed. “Fine. Killjoy.”
Bumping her with my hip, I finished getting ready. I half-wanted to leave the necklace here. It would kill me if something happened to it, but I’d also done emerald eye shadow to pair with it and some dark smoky thing Rachel did with eyeliner to make my eyes pop even more. It kind of looked more like a cat’s eye, but that worked for me.
Charm bracelet on my wrist, ring on my hand, necklace on, and I glanced around the room.
“Hang on,” Rachel said, with a pin between her teeth. “Turn.”