WICKED INTENTIONS { Completed}

Chapter 13

Two days later, Shakira stood in kitchen, grimacing and holding the cell-phone a distance away from her ear as her best friend tried her best to make her permanently deaf.

"Aaaaaaaaah," London let out another ear-piercing scream. "Aaaaaaaaah. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Aaaaaaaaah."

When the screaming subsided, Shakira tentatively moved the phone back to her ear. "Are you done?"

"You're like the best friend everrrr," London squealed happily.

"Tell me something I don't already know."

"I'm gon' let that slide cause you-hooked-ya-girl-up," London said each word precisely. "Thank you."

"Okay?" Shakira's brow furrowed in confusion. "How did I hook my girl up?"

"Look at you trying to be humble," London dismissed with a chuckle. "Thank you for talking to Nathan. We just got our VIP invite to the auditions. Enzo and the boys are stoked. Thank you."

Before Shakira had a chance to say she had no idea what the hell London was talking about, her friend ended the call on another eardrum-bursting scream. However, she'd gotten enough from the fragmented conversation to know that Nathan's generosity knew no bounds.

She smiled.

Having to ask him to include the Xin Monsters on his roster had brought a bad taste to her mouth. Only a few hours before work she'd been debating the pros and cons of asking. Though Extreme Expressions was new, it had generated quite the buzz on the streets. According to the media a lot of indie artists were getting their big start from the weekly shows that the performance arts school opened to the public.

London had been 'singing' about being a singer for as long as Shakira had known her, and a place on Extreme Expressions would catapult her closer to her dream. Nathan, on the other hand, had already done so much for Shakira. Asking him for any more favors felt wrong. She'd decided to do it anyway because, despite her discomfort with begging, this was for her best-friend. Fortunately, Nathan had been a step before her and acted before she had to ask.

I need to thank him.

Tucking the cell-phone back into the pocket of her overalls, Shakira peeped into the oven to make sure the lasagna was okay before making her way to his room.

The master bedroom spelled masculinity from the silver grayish comforter that covered its massive length to the metallic grey and green throw pillows propped on the headboard. He'd painted her wooden floor tiles black to match the black wall behind the bed. Admittedly, they weren't colors Shakira would've chosen, but they looked good and were very Nathan.

Her face creased in puzzlement when she didn't find him in there. She checked the bathroom but he wasn't there either. On a hunch, she headed towards the guest room. The door was half open and even from outside, she could see him. He had his back to her, and his head lowered.

Pushing the door wider, Shakira entered the room, a ready smile on her face as she called out, "Nath..."

His name died on her lips and her smile dropped when he turned.

In one hand he held her hand-bag while the other was deep inside.

"Shakira." The guilt that flashed in his blue eyes was damning enough.

"What are you doing?" Shakira's voice was low but tinged with suspicion.

"I just wanted to borrow one of your Aspirins," he excused quickly. Dropping the bag on the bed, he said, "I feel a headache coming on."