Up For Debate (Love and Desire Book 1) Read online

  UP FOR DEBATE

  Devin Sawyer

  Up For Debate

  Devin Sawyer © 2019

  |All rights reserved|

  All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law in the country of publication.

  This book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author to be construed as real.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference purposes. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  DEDICATION

  For Ellie, who’s a badass in general, but also an amazing editor. Thanks for believing and just being a good person and shit.

  BLURB

  Going to meet your boyfriend’s family should be exciting.

  It’s a relationship milestone most girls fawn over, but not me.

  It means coming face to face with my ex that I left high and dry in the middle of the night almost six years ago.

  I wouldn’t call what Lawson and I had a love story, or even a relationship.

  It was tumultuous and frustrating more than it wasn’t.

  His lack of respect for me and my background left me bitter and angry in the end.

  Now I’m stuck facing my past that never got any closure and damn it if there aren’t brief moments that I forget why I went running.

  If I let him get too close, I know he’ll try to burn me again.

  I can’t let that happen when I have Reece to lose.

  The battle between the two men is a decision I face alone.

  One holds my heart, the other holds it hostage.

  Sometimes love hands you a choice you never wanted to make.

  CHAPTER 1 – PRESENT

  You know the theory behind Coyote Ugly? That the person you wake up next to after a drunken night is so ugly, you’d rather gnaw your own arm off than wake them? I was currently plotting similar ways to get out of this trip. The roar of traffic drones outside the car. I rest my head on the passenger side window and watch the old familiar scenery pass by.

  It’s been years since I was last in South Carolina, and I don’t remember it fondly. The anxiety flows through my veins and makes me a chronically nervous mess. I let out a deep sigh and concurrently feel a warm hand touch my thigh. I look over at Reece in the driver’s seat and his reluctant smile calms me momentarily. He’s handsome, and it’s distracting.

  “It will all be over before you know it,” he says confidently, reassuringly.

  I give a small knowing nod. We flew in for a long weekend over Labor Day to support his brother’s campaign run. The elections are getting tense and his parents requested that we all be present as a united front. Well, they requested Reece’s presence. Mine, they couldn’t care less about. I wish I had stayed home. Our home, in Portland.

  “Quit gnawing on that lip,” he scolds. “You will blister it and then I’ll have to make excuses to kiss every other part of your body.”

  His hand slides a bit higher up my thigh. I plaster on a girlish giggle and place my hand atop his. He was too good to me. I return my gaze out the window and start prepping my poker face. I’m going to need it.

  It’s been five and a half years since I left South Carolina. We landed at the airport an hour ago, picked up our rental car and now are heading to Reece’s parents’ house for the weekend despite my attempt at getting a hotel. They wouldn’t have it. We are to be putting forth an image of solidarity. Lawson is in his first race for the open senate seat. Their father, Mr. Calhoun, held the same chair nearly two decades prior.

  Reece and I hadn’t been a part of this life for quite a while. When I ran into him three years ago in Portland, he was the last person I expected to see. I was so caught off guard I wasn’t sure if I should run toward him or run in the opposite direction. Things had ended poorly the last time I was in the Calhoun home. I hoped to high hell that it would be different this go around.

  I still remember that day well, I had gone to lunch with April to a new restaurant we had been wanting to try. It was rare that our days off at the hospital happened at the same time, but we wanted to take advantage of it. We met at the Thai restaurant. We had already one drink down the hatch when we were called to be seated. I followed confidently behind April and our hostess around the corner to our table, and that’s when I saw him. Chef hat and all, at our hibachi grill ready to serve us. It had been years since I’d seen him, and I grew mortified. A smile filled his face that reached his eyes. Abort mission. I redirected my gaze. I couldn’t see him. I moved across the country to avoid his entire family. Not so much him, but his family, yes. I set my purse down next to April who was taking her seat already and I mumbled something about needing to use the restroom and darted off.

  In the ladies' room, I took a deep breath while running my fingers through my hair. What did I even say to him? What was he doing all the way in Portland? And working as a chef? I knew he went to culinary school, but what had brought him out all this way? To this very restaurant.

  I smoothed my hair back down and pulled it into an elegant coif at the side of my neck. I nodded my head at my reflection in the mirror and decided to return to my table before April came marching in here after me asking what was taking so long.

  I ordered, briskly, never looking Reece too long in the eyes. He appeared to get the message that I didn’t care to reminisce at the time, and he maintained the professional distance as well. April sat eyeing me all weird. She could see my nerves, the visible tension flitting through the air, but she was smart enough not to bluntly ask me in public what was going on. Bless her for that. I ate my meal almost as fast as I had ordered and drank down anything I could get my hands on with vodka in it. He limited the tricks and flying food which was best because I really just wanted to ignore the entire situation. He was the only non-Asian worker here, and I had to wonder how he even got the job.

  When Reece had turned around or wasn’t looking, I observed him, studied him, I tried to determine if he was the same person he was a few years prior. He had always been friendly, eager to please, and handsome. Even back when I used to see him in Charleston, he had an all-American boy appeal to him.

  Looking back now, I’m so glad he chased me out of the restaurant. I had just hugged April goodbye when I heard my name being shouted down the sidewalk.

  “Farah.”

  I whipped around with a scowl prepared for whoever was howling my name across a Portland sidewalk like I was some missing animal. Or at least that’s how I recall it. There stood Reece, his chef hat in hand. He jogged lightly toward me and I only stood there, too much a lady to run anywhere, especially for a man.

  “I’m sorry to call after you, I just, I don’t have your phone number and I, I really want to catch up with you. How have you been?”

  “I’m good,” I said, plastering on a warm smile for him, he didn’t deserve my coldness. “I just don’t know that
we should,” I say with implication and remembrance of the past.

  “Why?” he asks, stunned. “Because of everything that happened?”

  Well, we could start there.

  “Fuck that,” he offered so nonchalantly it took me both off guard and settled me at the same time.

  I laughed at that. He never had to be the prim and polite one, I guess. Fair enough.

  “I guess we could do coffee, catching up just a little wouldn’t hurt.”

  He smiled one of his big adorable grins. “Great. Does tomorrow work? I get off around four.”

  Tomorrow did work. My shift ended at the hospital at four as well.

  “Yeah, okay, meet me at that little coffee place off Washington Avenue. What are you doing here anyway?” I point to the hibachi grill. Another one of his grins stretches across his face. He had a great smile. It was large and encompassing. His mouth was distracting, and I cursed myself for even thinking it.

  “I actually work two jobs. I’m a sous chef downtown at La Torre, but I wanted experience in art and entertainment in the food world.”

  La Torre was delicious. I rarely went because I couldn’t afford it and the only person I ate meals with was my cat, Pippins, and April.

  “I want to open my own restaurant one day but for now I’ve accepted a temp position that has me working at various restaurants that offer that in the Portland and surrounding area.”

  “Alright, tomorrow then, around four-thirty?”

  He nodded and ran back toward the building. I walked off with a smile still plastered to my face. He was different than I remember him and yet the same. I was excited to get to re-learn him even if I knew it was risky. Life here felt so different and removed from that old part of me and I guess over the years since moving, I had grown brave again.

  That’s how I broke up periods of my life when I thought back on it, by where I lived. I was raised in Istanbul until I was nine. Dad, a US consulate worker, and Mom stayed home and raised me. Their relationship was always controversial. Even at a young age, I remember all the whispers. Momma was brave. She was shunned by many of her friends and some family for not marrying a Turkish man, but she stayed and braved their glares and gossip. Dad offered a transfer to get them out of the country, but she refused. She loved Istanbul. I can see why, it’s beautiful, like nothing I’ve ever seen on this side of the world, but America is beautiful in many ways. Finally, when my grandparents passed away, or Dede and Ni-ne as I always knew them, she had nothing left and we packed our bags.

  We made the flight across to Georgia, where Dad was from originally. I had only heard stories about America up to that point. I attended Tallulah Falls Boarding School in the heart of the south, where I was trained in various advanced learning methods and leadership skills all with the etiquette of a southern belle. Dad thought with his military background that a boarding school near their home would be the best way to introduce me to American society. I think his intentions were total immersion in American culture, but I laugh at the thought now. Even he had been gone from America so long that he didn’t know how to readjust, but he was only trying his best. America was different. It took us all a long time to find a rhythm in our day to day lives. Mom was just happy to have Dad, and he was equally as happy to have her agree to the move.

  After graduation, I attended two years of junior college. I had high dreams of being a lawyer at the time and I was contemplating schools with the best political science degree. I hadn’t even been too far from home, even if I did reside in Tallulah Falls most of my time in Georgia, I was ready to live. I transferred to the University of South Carolina in Columbia the summer before my junior year of college. They had a great political science degree program that I planned to enroll in. All my basics out of the way and I was ready to navigate a path to working as an immigration lawyer. I wish I could only say my time in Columbia was worth remembering, but they were some of the most troubled and I usually attempted to avoid them. After everything came crashing down, I crossed the country and picked a new place that had never felt like home and I re-settled. I was great at moving.

  “You’re not going to rest, are you?” he asks, sighing. I shake my head at him.

  “Probably not for the next week.”

  He brings the hand of mine he is holding up to his mouth and presses a kiss into the center of my palm. His lips are warm against my skin.

  “I’ll be with you the whole time,” he promises my wounded spirit.

  “Except at night, when I’m sent off to sleep alone in the deserted part of your parents’ mansion,” I shoot back like a sassy teen girl.

  “You’ll hardly be deserted. The guest room’s down the hall from mine. I’ll only be a couple of rooms over.”

  His parents’ home has guest quarters. That’s how annoyingly rich they are. I had bunk beds in a room that I shared with guests when they came to visit. Luckily, I wasn’t home much during the school year for that to be the case.

  “Yeah, well, it’s a really long hallway,” I say, sounding like a child. “I don’t understand why I can’t just stay with you.”

  “My parents are old school. You know that. Not until we’re married.”

  “Then I don’t understand why we couldn’t just get a hotel.”

  “And give them something more to complain about and hold against you? No. We’ll get through it together and be back in Portland before you know it. Try to relax. Spend some time down on the beach. You don’t have to spend all week in the house. We will get out, do our own thing. Nothing about this week changes the fact that I’m crazy, in over my head, in love with you.”

  I was working myself into a tizzy. It really was useless. Nothing would make this a favorable experience in my eyes.

  “I love you too,” I offer back, ashamed that I’m stealing his first family bonding experience in a few years with my sulking.

  Before I know it, we are pulling into the brick-lined driveway. Reece throws the car in park and I take one last deep breath and huff it out. It’s go-time. I grab my bag from the back and Reece grabs his own. Before we even reach the front door, it comes flying open and an old familiar shape fills the door frame.

  “Heyyyyy little… bro…” His voice dies off at the end, less excited than he was just a second earlier and I watch his face fall as he meets my eyes.

  “Hey there Lawson,” I offer.

  Reece passes me up and goes in to hug his brother, distraction tactics at their finest.

  “Hey man, look at you, devilishly handsome as always. How’s the campaign going?” Lawson’s eyes look right past Reece at my own, never leaving.

  “It’s good, yeah, it’s good. Still early on, but we’re up by six points.” Finally his gaze strays back to his brother. “Well, y’all come in. Mom and Dad are having drinks while we wait for dinner.”

  CHAPTER 2-PAST

  College orientation. I’m pretty sure they are the same everywhere you go. Greeting from the provost, tour of the campus guided by the strangest person they could wrangle up to talk to a group of visitors. They are usually filled with pointless information about “state of the art technology center,” or “historical library dating back to the prehistoric dinosaur era,” or my personal favorite… “The stadium of the national championship football team of 1982” …. Really? It’s been that long since you’ve won a championship, maybe stop advertising that now.

  I take in the buildings, attempt to memorize the classes that are held in them, and I people watch. College campuses are prime people watching spots. Individuals from all different walks of life, flittering about. I spot some skateboarders flying by our tour on the sidewalk, a group of girls sunbathing out on the lawn, a summer study group speaking in what sounds like French outside the library, a womanizing man flirting with not one but three different girls at once as if he can’t make up his mind, and what appears to be a professor eating his lunch on a bench.

  At the end, they lead you to a room filled with computers and have various other
students and advisors help you complete your first schedule. I wait in a line that feels like it’s never going to end. The girl behind me is trying to make awkward conversation and I’m doing my best to ignore her and not put off the vibe that I’m looking for friends. This is not my first year of college. I won’t spend it lifted upside down, doing keg stands while a slew of boys count me on. I’m here to make a difference. I’m here to change the world.

  Finally, I make my way to the front of the snaking line and await the next available student advisor to call me toward them. I scan the room, looking for the next person to pop up out of their seat. I see a girl across the room finally standing to leave and I begin to head toward her vacant chair. I pass by her and notice a star-struck look she’s wearing, and I laugh at how quickly college is going to wipe that freshman year excitement straight off her face. I plop down in the open seat, she just left, next to my advisor. Not my finest, ladylike moment, but I’ve been waiting forever.

  “Let me guess… philosophy major.” A turn to my right and I see the womanizer I spotted earlier during the tour, sitting in the chair that’s supposed to belong to my student advisor.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Philosophy major, that’s what you are, aren’t you?”

  I lift an eyebrow at him as if to inquire if he’s serious.

  “No, political science.”

  “Interesting,” he muses, looking me over. “You’re going to love Dr. Scott. He’s the program chief.”

  “Wait, you’re not a political science major, are you?” I ask incredulously. There were two types of people that went into political science—those that gave a shit about the world and its people, and those that wanted to be a hotshot one day. I had a quick suspicion I knew which he was.

  “I’m actually in the law program. I graduated with my undergrad two years ago. You don’t look much like a freshman though.” He eyes my body once again and I’m starting to become annoyed at the way he’s objectified me.