High Class In Borrowed Shoes-Part Three

High Class In Borrowed Shoes-Part Three by Juliana Stone

Part Three:


Ashton made her bus.  Barely.

         It had started to rain lightly, the wet mixing with the cold, and she felt the beginnings of a miserable trip in the making.  Mr. Pointy Umbrella was looking pretty damn good at this point.  She’d left in such a rush that there’d been no time to run to her locker and grab one.

         Her heart was still racing a mile a minute and she began to shiver, her body shaking so bad her knees knocked together.

         Oh god, Mace Evans, in the flesh.

         On what planet did she ever think they’d cross paths again? She groaned as her teeth began to chatter and wrapped her arms around her body.  She was so cold.

         The Greyhound pulled out of the station and she glanced toward downtown.  Her eyes found The Meridian with no problem.  It wasn’t hard to do.  It was the largest and most luxurious hotel in Detroit and was perched on the edge of the river like the Queen of the Nile.

         Her eyes travelled to the top.  The penthouse suite was in darkness and yet she knew he was up there.  She covered her cheeks, turned away and though it was silly, she felt as if she could see her. 

         What the hell would he think if he could?

         She groaned and nestled into the vinyl seat, trying to find what warmth she could.  Outside the rain began to splash against the window in earnest, hitting the glass like bullets.  The sky looked angry and bleak, with dark billowing clouds that were heavy and full.

         She closed her eyes against the dullness and felt such sadness inside that her chest hurt.  She was twenty-eight and so not where she’d wanted to be at this point in her life.

         How the hell had she ended up here?  Riding a freaking Greyhound bus in the rain?  Working the concierge at a luxury hotel that up until three years ago, she’d be a guest at?  Making extra money cleaning units when she could, because she had to?

         She wasn’t a snob, well, not anymore, she knew there was nothing wrong with good, honest work. In fact there were a lot of things about her job she liked.  But it was so far from where she’d come from, and though she’d never want to be that person from her past—the kind who would look down on someone in her position—she’d welcome the ease of her old life, no questions asked.

    She, more than anyone, knew that money didn’t buy happiness but it sure as helped get you there.

         Ashton squeezed her eyes shut.  She knew the answer to her question. She’d ended up exactly where she was because of several reasons.  Some had nothing to do with her.  The downturn in the economy?  The massive layoffs at her father’s company?  Her father’s blind trust in someone he shouldn’t have trusted? Not her fault.

         It was the other reasons that haunted her.  Every stupid ass choice she’d ever made, and she could own the fact that there had been a lot.  Too many to count.

         Mace Evans had been the worst.


         She’d been fifteen the first time she’d laid eyes on him.  It had been a hot, humid afternoon, the kind where the pavement sizzled with heat and the sky was cloaked in perpetual haze.

          White Lake was surrounded by water but on a day like this there was only one place to be—the jumping rock.

         Ashton wasn’t allowed to go to such places.  In fact her mother would have had a heart attack if she found out.  Not because she was worried the jumping rock was dangerous, no, it was more about the kids that hung out there. Most of them were from the other side of town.  The side that didn’t have Country clubs, private schools or the exclusive gated communities where Ashton and her friends lived. 

         According to her mother there was nothing wrong with ‘those people’, but it was understood that an invisible line existed in this world and Ashton wasn’t to cross it.  It wouldn’t do for an Breckinridge to mingle with the blue collar populace from the other side. Most of whom worked in one of her family’s businesses.

         So, on a day like this, one that bred determination and danger, Ashton had to resort to devious methods to get what she wanted.   And that was something she’d perfected with ease. 

         She’d convinced Jack, her best friend Terre’s older brother, to take them.  It hadn’t been hard.  The previous week she’d caught him smoking pot in the pool house with Cassie Reed, a townie, and she’d threatened to tell if he didn’t.

         She’d ignored the dark looks tossed her way by Jack, and she and Terre had hitched a ride with him and three older boys, tossing their hair around like young filly’s and giggling like the school girls they were. 

         She’d worn her new bikini, fluorescent green and dark navy, and knew that it showed off her figure to full advantage.  Her skin was smooth and tanned, her hair long, the deep red strands lightened by the sun and shot through with gold. She’d never felt so wild and free, as if she were walking on the edge of danger.

         And to a young girl, the attention she received as she walked through the crowd of teens was an added bonus.

         That’s an Breckinridge.   

         Her daddy owns half the town.

         I hear they have more money than the Kennedy’s.        

         She and Terre had spent the afternoon basking in the sun and never ending attention all the townie boys lavished upon them.  It was a heady experience for a girl so young and it would take someone mighty strong to knock her down a peg.

         Of course she hadn’t met Mace Evans yet.

         The beat up van that parked right beside Jack’s sporty cherry red corvette, first caught her eye.  It was loud and very much out of place beside the ‘vette.  Three boys had filed out immediately, but it was the last one, the fourth who’d caught her attention.

         He slid from the dark interior, his movements slow, languid, like he didn’t give a damn about anything.  Even then he had that extra bit of something.  Call it charisma, personality or animal magnetism.  Whatever the heck it was, he had it. 

         In spades.

         She’d passed the remainder of that afternoon watching him and she knew that he was watching her.  She could feel the heat of his eyes on her bare back as she flirted outrageously with Jack and his friends.

         “Who is he?”  She asked Jack.

         Jack’s look had been dismissive.  “Mace Evans.”

         “Well, where does he live?” 

         Jack’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head.  “Why do you care?”

         “I don’t.  I just want to know.”  She replied defensively.

         Jack snorted.  “He’s a nobody from the east end of town.  His father is outlaw from what I hear, not the kind you want to mess with, and his mother’s a whore.”  Jack’s eyes darkened and he looked at her with a possessiveness that made her uncomfortable.  He leaned closer, his beer soaked breath caressing her cheek as he spoke.  “Don’t even go there Ashton. All those guys are losers. They’re not meant for someone like you.”

         “You’re screwing Cassie and she’s from town.”  She retorted.

         Jack arched a brow.  “Some girls are meant for screwing around with and some are keepers.  They’re never the same girl.  You jealous?”  His manner changed in an instant and put her on edge. 

         She laughed nervously.  “Whatever.  I was just asking.”

         Mace smiled at her then, across the way, like he knew something she didn’t and an unfamiliar heat began to curl within her young body.  It was a slow, melting kind, one that left her breathless. 

         In that moment Ashton felt his power and deep down she knew she’d be much better off if she ignored him.  The boy was bad news.  She could tell.  But the reckless side of her nature called louder and the excitement she felt inside fed it.

         She pushed away from Jack, grabbed the beer from his hand and made her way through the large gathering of teens. 

         Her feet began to drag the closer she got to him.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.  He was all kinds of delicious danger.

        His chest was bare and the board shorts he wore hung low on his hips. She guessed he was around eighteen but his young body already showed the promise of maturity.  His muscles were defined and she blushed at the smile that was waiting for her when her eyes finally managed to make their way back up to his face.

         His buddies tossed knowing glances his way and promptly left as his dark eyes bored into hers.  She shivered.  Mace Evans was the kind of boy who could break a girl’s heart. 

         “Does your daddy know you’re down here, slumming with the townies?”  His voice was like melted chocolate over caramel.  There was a melodic quality to it and she found herself fascinated by his lips.  They were beautiful.

         She wondered what they’d feel like sliding against her own.  She’d been kissed before of course, more than a few times, she was after all fifteen.  But truthfully, they’d been the sloppy feeble attempts by boys who didn’t know anything about girls.  They’d been mad, groping, wet messes filled with wandering hands and heavy breathing.

         Mace Evans was in a different league altogether.  He’d probably kissed a lot of girls.  He probably knew exactly what to do. 

         Her heart was racing and she took another sip of beer, trying to hide a look of disgust as the warm brew slid down her throat.

         “I can do whatever I want.”  She replied, not liking his inference even though he was right.  Her daddy would have a total cow if he knew where she was.  “Besides, I didn’t know the jumping rock was only for townies.”

        He stood straighter and pushed away from the van he’d been leaning against.  Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest and her fingers were aching from the grip she had on the can of beer.

         “How old are you?”  His eyes moved over her bikini clad form, in a slow sinful way and she was embarrassed to say her nipples hardened as he did so.  Liquid heat was running mad inside of her and she tossed her long hair behind her shoulders as she stared up at him.

          “Sixteen…and a half.”  She lied, easily, “how old are you?”

         He was quiet for a few moments and then stepped forward, his hand reached for hers.  “I think that’s old enough.”

         “Old enough?”  She asked breathlessly.  All sorts of wild thoughts banged around inside her mind.  Most of them had to do with the image of his lips against hers, of his hands on her body.

         “To do it.” 

         Time was suspended.  She saw the sheen of sweat that coated his bare skin, the moisture emphasizing his muscles.  His eyes darkened and that smooth, slow smile never left his lips.

         “It?”  She barely managed to get the word out and hoped she didn’t sound like a total dweeb.

         “Why else did you come here?”  He tugged her hand.  “You haven’t gone off the jumping rock yet.”

         The jumping rock.

            Right. Ashton stared at him until her vision blurred. Was she going to do this? His eyebrow arched and a wicked smile crept over his face. Her pulse took off like a rocket and she knew her life had just taken an unexpected turn.

            And that Mace Evans was a road she wanted to travel.




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