Nineteen

Legend rolled the coin in between her fingers while she waited nervously for Cherise.

The coin she was clinging onto was the last thing Raph had touched that morning.

Well, the second last thing. The last thing he'd touched was the toaster, but she wasn't about to lug that around like some toaster-collecting maniac, and even though she hated his guts right now, she needed his presence to calm her nervous tummy, so the coin it was.

Had it been just a day before when she'd thought the world was peachy? Well, reality check, it wasn't. The world was, in fact, more sour than Taylor swift was toward an ex-boyfriend.

The accident had brought her back into the limelight, the paparazzi were breathing down her bra again, and Raph had suddenly been possessed by a work demon who hated sex because he'd been going into to the office every other day and, yea, he wasn't giving Legend some anymore. BTW, he still hadn't expatiated in the whole danger issue.

So, the world was stinky as shit. Then again, everything seemed stinky as shit when one wasn't getting enough D in the P.

It was so like a man to make a girl a sex junky and then leave her to stroke her violin with a vibrating, plastic wand.

She was interrupted from her reverie by a tall girl who looked like she was fresh out of high school. That she was wearing a shirt that said "Spitballs and Dickballs" only made it worse. She studied Legend, probably wondering what to make of her lime wig and pink lipstick. Legend knew the look was pushing Joker, but she was supposedly a celebrity again these days, with few disguise tools to work with—cut her some slack, she wasn't a spymaster.

"Legend?" She smiled uncertainty, surely praying that she was correct and hadn't accidentally approached a mental ward escapee.

Legend smiled and gestured toward the seat across hers.

"That's me. I'm guessing you're Cherise? "

Maybe-maybe not Cherise shot her a braced smile.

"That's me!"

Legend knew she didn't sound as chipper as Cherise did when she'd said that.

She liked her instantly. A little ray of sunshine was what she needed in her life now that Raph had turned into the gloom and doom monster.

Suddenly, a waiter materialized from thin air—a trick that was most certainly taught in school of Waitering—and produced two menus with a flourish.

Cherise collected hers with a blush and a giggle at the waiter's expert charm while Legend had to think of Lady Gaga to avoid rolling her eyes—because absolutely nobody rolled their eyes where the Queen of pop was concerned.

"I'll have the chicken salad. I'm watching my weight." She explained to Legend who honestly couldn't understand what she meant by that. Cherise was as slim as their waiter's chance to get a lady's digits with his fake game.

"I'll have the burger with fries. "

When the waiter finally left—but not without bowing low enough for his lips to lick his soles—Cherise turned to Legend. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and she grabbed Legend's hands and squeezed.

"I'm such a big fan, Legend! Your stories inspire me to be better."

She would not blush; she would never blush.

Too late. She was sure her face was almost the same shade as her lipstick.

"So, Um, what do you do?"

Because she was never comfy when subjected to compliments, she turned the topic of conversation to less blush-inducing matters.

"Oh, I'm an artiste. I mostly draw comic book illustrations, but I also dabble in painting sometimes." She smiled again.

Legend liked her smile.

Another thing you like, Raph's smirk.

His full, soft lips His larger-than-life d—

"I heard of the accident, I'm so sorry."

To be even thinking of male anatomy while chilling with this incredibly sweet girl was a crime Legend was a thousand times guilty of. In her defense, Raph's dick was the reason why odes were written and why Legend's world went round.

"Um? Sorry, I didn't catch your last sentence."

"I said I'm really sorry for the accident. Are you OK?" Her eyes showed genuine concern.

Legend had actually forgotten that she was now probably more popular than a Netflix series and everyone was privy to every detail of her life even the color of her underwear.

"I'm fine, thank you," she gave her an uncomfortable smile.

Their waiter came back and deposited their food with the same over exaggerated bow that made Legend and Cherise smile.

Only thing missing now was a flower in between his teeth and Romeo was complete.

"Get lost." Yeah, she'd said that out loud and it felt good.

"Whatever," He muttered sullenly. "Harley Quinn wannabe." He said as a parting shot. Shame people couldn't take the time to learn Supervillain looks 101.

Cherise was looking at her in awe like she'd just battled a pack of lions and had come out without a scratch. Legend could seriously get used to that gaze.

"You're so badass."

"Yes, I am." It was no longer fashionable to pretend modesty.

"You're really awesome. Have I told you that? " Cherise's voice was barely a whisper.

"You have but you can tell me again."

Another high-pitched giggle erupted out of Cherise and Legend found herself chuckling along. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed like this with a female. Actually, she could remember but she'd sooner twerk in a clown suit in front of the whole restaurant than dwell on that because it caused her pain–Marsha alert.

Soon, they were chatting about everything and nothing. Cherise was originally from Ohio, had five cats and no, she most certainly didn't love French Montana—she was very vehement about that, mind you.

In return, Legend told her about her obsession with the Shakira skirts, how bad she wanted a cat but wasn't brave to get one and how she'd gotten the perfect bubblegum pink for her hair.

"I think I'd look good in Orange and Burgundy. What do you think? " She asked, running her hands through her long black locks.

She didn't really want to say know what Legend thought. And Legend didn't have the heart to tell her new BFF that she'd look like a failed tie-dye experiment, so she gave a weak smile and an even weaker murmur.

"I think I like you, Legend. "

Legend was already Team Cherise.

***

Well, fuck it, Sersha Bervekov, one of the most influential businessmen and an all-round prick, was in Raph's office, and all he could think about was if Legend was doing OK with the mystery person she was supposed to be meeting.

Sersha looked at Raph and raised an eyebrow.

"You know why I'm here, Perdome."

Raph wished he didn't. He wished he was blissfully oblivious to Sersha's wants, and if there were some kind of app that could erase the day Sersha had started showing interest in Perdome Tech, Raph would've downloaded it a thousand times over and wiped that day away forever.

Everyone knew who Sersha was; a bully whose business was a font for the bad, the worse and the hideous, the only problem being the lack of evidence against him and his company. All of a sudden, he'd started showing interest in Raph's baby. Raph appreciated this as much as he appreciated getting dropped in a piranha-infested ocean.

"Something tells me your mind has wandered far from here."

Real astute, Sersha. Quick, someone toss him a cookie for stating the painfully obvious.

"And something tells me you won't take no for an answer."

"That something is right." Sersha's smile reminded Raph of those piranhas he'd been thinking about a while ago; there was nothing pretty about it.

"Too bad, Bervekov. My answer has and will always be N. O." Raph was normally polite when letting people down, but today he didn't care about that shit. If Sersha wasn't happy with his answer, he could jump in front of a train for all he cared.

"That's very sad, Perdome." Sersha stared off in the distance. Raph didn't know why it felt like a ghoul had just ran its fingers down his spine, but the feeling was there.

Sersha turned back to him and smiled the piranha smile again.

"I heard about your terrible accident. Hope your female friend wasn't hurt?"

Nothing, not even his thick accent could hide Sersha's smug tone and nothing, not even instant paralysis would've made Raph to not bound put from his chair and grip the snotty bastard by the collar.

"What are you insinuating?" He asked with a calm he didn't feel.

"Nothing, moy drug," He chuckled, enjoying Raph's rage. The huge Sasquatch who was Sersha's bodyguard stepped forward to probably turn Raph into a bag of broken bones, but Sersha held up a hand, halting his progress.

"I asked a simple question, no? You Americans, always seeing things that are not."

"Save it, asshole. I don't want you anywhere near Legend."

Sersha studied his face before letting out a bark of laughter.

"You're in love with her! Oh, this is priceless." His shoulders shook with mirth and Raph almost drove his fist into his laughing nose but quickly realized it wasn't worth it. He needed to protect Legend and he couldn't do that when he was cooling heels in the one of the many fine correctional facilities in the state.

"You are blind, moy drug. You fancy yourself in love with that woman, but she loves another."

Raph released his collar and moved back, as if that would ease the shock Sersha's words had caused.

"The hell are you talking about?"

Sersha sneered at him. " Do you need a seer to tell you that she is in love with your brother? Can't blame her, he is better than you." He chuckled again, like he and Raph were sharing a dirty joke.

Raph couldn't bear to look at his fat face anymore.

"Get out of my office."

Sersha stood.

"Fine, I will take my leave. But consider my proposition. Your company merged with mine would be a force to reckon with."

He spun on his heel, his bodyguard in tow.

"Oh, and I don't threaten. I'm telling you now. If you don't agree to my terms, bad things will happen."

"Do your worst." Raph accompanied that dare with a middle finger, but the effort was wasted because Sersha had his back to him. Raph consoled himself that the weasel most definitely heard it in his voice.

Another chuckle. Then the odious man was gone, taking every bit of air in the room with him.

Raph couldn't breathe. He felt a panic attack coming on, but he held on to his control, let it envelop him like a blanket. When he was sure he wouldn't end up a whimpering mess if he tried to speak, Raph weighed his options.

He already felt like he was playing second fiddle to his brother where Legend was concerned.

The way Legend looked at him, however, was proof that what they'd had was beyond the wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am they'd intended it to be in the first place.

On the other hand, Maryanne's eyes had said one thing while her heart had said another.

He didn't know if he could trust Legend but he sure as hell knew he had to keep the minx safe.

He contacted his P. I and told him to keep his eyes and ears open for anything on Sersha.

"If he farts, I want to know of it." Maybe if he put in the news that Sersha's farts were deadlier than Russian nukes, it might get the man to leave them alone. If that didn't work, well, he was screwed.

He got off the phone and massaged his temple. He'd been ready to blame the accident on his brother, but Sersha had just proven that he was far worse than Logan and his petty vendetta.

Calling the cops was the smart thing to do and even as he picked up his phone to do that, he knew what he had to do to keep the woman he loved safe.

He had to let her go.