by Nicole Fox
Sophia walks up to me and presses her body against mine. Her fingernails gently scrape against my scalp as she licks her full lips. “Nikita, you’re stressed. Let me take care of you.”
Her hand runs over my dick and she holds my gaze. But I’m not interested. Not tonight, not with everything going on. Not with an old man—a man who looked to be about my father’s age—lying beat up in the street. “Sophia, not tonight. If there’s anything else about the girls, tell me now. Otherwise, you can go.”
Sophia yanks her hand back, blinking rapidly as if I just smacked her across the face. She’s not used to being turned down. Especially by me. She takes care of so much for me that a good fucking is the least I can do in return. Out of appreciation, if nothing else. But tonight, God himself could be standing in front of me demanding a hard-on, and I’m just not going to be able to perform.
“There’s nothing else to report. Have a good night, Mr. Lavrin.” With that, Sophia turns and walks out of the room.
Mr. Lavrin.
She knows better than to be openly disrespectful, but she can be subtly spiteful in her own right. She knows just how to walk the line between following my rules and letting me know when she’s angry. I’ll have to buy her something tomorrow and make it up to her. The last thing I need right now, on the eve of the auction, is a mutiny taking place in my bedroom.
I walk back over to the gin and instead of pouring it into a glass, I put the bottle to my lips and gulp as much of the liquid down as I can, hoping the alcohol will ease my mind. And after a few minutes, it does. At least a little bit.
But the image of the shopkeeper on my floor still haunts me. I did that to him—I hurt him. I took his money.
Just like my father taught me.
Chapter Two
Annie
I wrap my hair up in a messy bun, sling my bag over my arm, and head out the glass door of the math building. Finals are over. Thank God. But I’m not as relieved as I’d expected. I’m not sure if that’s because this last accounting final made me nervous or if it was the way the TA ogled me that rattled my nerves. Either way, I’m out of the building and heading home for a nice, relaxing night of binge-watching my favorite medical drama.
I pull my coat tight around me and brave the heavy winds as I walk toward the apartment building I share with two other girls. I can’t believe I only have one more semester left before I graduate. I swear, I thought school would never end. But my stomach churns at the thought of the real world waiting for me—adult life, a job, responsibilities. Of course, I’ve already met with my career counselor, and I’m lucky enough to have some people in mid-level accounting firms eager to interview me once I graduate.
But I know not to rest yet. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, yada yada yada. One step at a time.
I shrug the strap of my bag higher onto my shoulder and jog across the intersection. On the other side, I see a homeless man leaning against a dirty corner.
He gives me a broad, toothless smile as I approach. “Good evening, Mizz Thornton,” he says in a raspy voice. “How’d your tests go?” Henry tilts his head and smiles. “You musta done good. You a very smart lady.”
My cheeks heat at his words. “Thank you, Henry. I think I did well. But I still have to wait and see.” I reach into my bag, pull out half of a turkey sandwich, and offer it to Henry. “I couldn’t finish this with being so nervous about the exam. And I know how much you love turkey and mayo.”
“Aw, thanks, Mizz Thornton. I truly appreciate your kindness.” Henry smiles wider and takes the sandwich. “You betta hurry along, Ms. Thornton. It’s cold tonight.”
I frown and stare at Henry for a second. “Promise me you’ll go to the shelter if it gets too cold?”
“For you, Mizz Thornton, I promise. I don’t wanna see any worry in those pretty brown eyes.”
I smile and wish Henry a good evening before continuing down the street toward the apartment. Tears fill my eyes when I wonder about who will take care of Henry once I graduate. Most of the college students don’t pay him any attention. Hardly anyone offers to buy him a meal or give him a bottle of water. And once I graduate, I’m leaving the city. Henry will be left by himself.
I wipe my eyes as I climb the stairs to my building. Swiping the keycard, I push open the door and walk up to the second floor. Please God, I hope Wendy and Jenna are gone. I just want some peace and quiet.
But no sooner do I turn the key and push open the door than the shrill tone of squealing women floods my ears. At least they’re down the hall. Maybe I can slip into my bedroom without them noticing.
I carefully close the door and tiptoe down the white hall, avoiding the creaky spot on the left side halfway down. This ain’t my first rodeo. Ever so softly, I close my bedroom door.
Hallelujah. Unnoticed.
Sighing with relief, I let my bag slip to the floor before I shrug off my parka and hang it on the hook. I walk over to my bed and plop down onto the mattress just as Jenna bursts into my room.
“Annie, oh my God, why didn’t you tell us you were home?!”
“Long day,” I murmur as I curl up into my blanket.
“Oh, no, you don’t, lady!” Wendy chirps as she walks in to join us. “You are not going to bed. We are going out to celebrate that finals are over.”
“Guys, I’m super tired.” I feign a yawn, hoping they’ll just let me be. Dr. McDreamy and my bed are calling, and I am more than ready to spend all night long with them.
Jenna puts her hands on her hips and juts out her chin as she fake glares at me. “Nope, no way. These past four years all you did was study, study, study. And even when I went to visit you over the summer, you were taking extra classes at the local university.”
Wendy crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Listen, Little Miss Bookworm. You are coming out with us. And if you try to back out, we’re just gonna stay here and keep pestering you.”
I groan and slam my hands down on the comforter. I’ve been through this routine before. They’re in top form tonight, and when they get jazzed up like this, resistance is futile. “Fine.”
The two girls smile from ear to ear as they bounce up and down on their toes. I can see it in their eyes already. They’ve been planning my makeover.
Ugh, what did I do to deserve this?
The last time they made me over, two years ago, I was hounded all night by drunken fools. I don’t care for being the center of attention. Or attracting the attention of any man, really. Partying has never been my thing. I’d much rather wear my jeans and turtleneck sweaters over some skimpy dress that barely covers my butt.
But my two friends are the exact opposite. They’re not brain-dead, like some of the hard partiers around campus, but they definitely do more than their fair share of getting dolled up and hitting the town.
Wendy and Jenna start whispering to one another, and I fling my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. Time to set some boundaries before this gets too out of hand. “Listen, the two of you: I agreed to go out with you tonight. But I don’t want a repeat of the last time you both played fashionista with me.”
“Don’t worry, Annie. We promise to be a little more modest,” Jenna says.
“Yeah, last time no one paid attention to us at all.” Wendy rolls her eyes and pouts. “Do you know how gorgeous you are? I mean, you hide that killer body in oversized sweaters. Not to mention, I’d kill for your naturally wavy hair.”
“Thanks, Wendy,” I say, looking down at my feet. Heat crawls up my neck to my cheeks. Accepting compliments has always been hard for me. As if I’ve always believed them to be a lie. I’m not ugly by any means, but I just don’t place importance on looks. Grades are what’s important to me.
“Now, go get that butt of yours in the shower,” Jenna says.
I hop off the bed, grab my robe, and stop in the middle of the doorway. “Where are we going?”
“Club Exposito,” Wendy answers.
I groan. Of course. The two hav
e been dying to go there for a couple of months. It’s supposed to be the hottest place in town, meaning it’s guaranteed to be absolutely packed to the gills. I shake my head and continue toward the bathroom.
Once inside, I lock the door and strip out of my clothes. I step into the shower, toes flinching as they touch the chilled ceramic floor. I turn the dial, old and metallic, and let out a sigh as the hot water trickles down my skin. I stand for a moment and enjoy the sensation. It feels like I’m rinsing away my hardest semester yet.
After the twenty minutes it takes to wash my hair and body, I slink into my robe and head to my room where Wendy and Jenna are waiting. “So, just an outfit, right?” I say tentatively. I wince, knowing that Wendy’s reply isn’t going to make me feel any better.
“Oh, we’re going full-out, honey.” Wendy holds up a blow dryer and pumps the trigger like a crazy woman with a gun. They both laugh. I just groan again.
Still, things could be worse, I remind myself as they set upon me like a pack of hyenas. While I might not like the idea of getting a sexy makeover, I’m not opposed to being pampered a bit. So while Wendy and Jenna go about styling my hair and makeup, I mentally begin to plan for the next semester.
Definitely need to meet with the advisor again and see if it’s worth jumping right into a master’s program or if I should keep pursuing the job hunt first. Some of the firms I’ve been perusing offer to pay tuition costs for employees. And that would help so much. My loans are already out of control.
“Stop frowning.” Jenna smacks my shoulder, startling me out of my reverie. “You’re screwing up the lip liner.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re sitting here planning your future career,” Wendy says as she twists a lock of my hair around the curling iron.
“I’m just trying to figure out what my next move should be. Besides, there’s not much else for me to do except sit still while you psychos go to work on me, so I might as well be productive,” I say.
The two huff and roll their eyes. When they’re done, Jenna grabs a miniskirt from her closet and throws it on my bed while Wendy fishes out the cobalt-blue shirt I have in my closet. The one with the low V-neck and see-through sleeves. Of course she picked that one out—she’s the one who made me buy it.
Grudgingly, I put on the outfit and slip my feet into the six-inch stilettos Wendy brought in. Why do we have to be the same size shoe? I swear the universe hates me. I make my way to the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door and gasp.
I don’t recognize the woman looking back at me. The one with the fake eyelashes and dark red lipstick. The one with loose flowing locks of brown hair framing smoky eyeshadow. This is too much. It isn’t me.
But ... I feel sexy.
Uncomfortable, extremely likely to trip over a sidewalk curb and break my ankle into a jillion pieces ...
But sexy.
“Thank you,” I say to my two roommates, my sight blurring from the tears starting to form.
“Don’t you dare cry. I don’t have time to redo your makeup,” Jenna threatens.
I chuckle and head out to the living room while the two girls continue getting ready, making sure my clutch has all the necessary items for the night, including cash and my portable phone charger. Jenna and Wendy are ready five minutes before the Uber is supposed to arrive. A miracle. Normally, the driver has to wait at least fifteen minutes for them.
“Start-of-the-night selfie,” Jenna chirps. We pose so she can take a picture.
We head downstairs and jump into the car. About thirty minutes later we’re standing on the longest line I’ve ever seen as we wait to get into Club Exposito. The thumping music is so loud, no one really needs to go inside to dance. Of course, there aren’t any drinks out here, but at least the music makes the wait less boring.
“Annie, the cover is on me,” Jenna says.
“No, no, no. I don’t want you paying. Look how pretty you both made me tonight. I’m paying the cover for both of you,” I say.
They both stare at me, hips cocked and lips puckered. But they know better than to argue with me. I’ll win. So, with a dismissive wave of their hands, they turn and hand their IDs to the bouncer who allows us to enter. I gulp as I offer the cash to the cashier just inside the door—it’s a lot of money.
“For a doll like you? Free tonight,” the man drawls. He’s got enough metal piercings in his face to be a danger to any magnets in the vicinity. He gives me a yellowed grin. I force a smile and we head inside before he changes his mind.
Once fully indoors, we head to the main area. Inside the club, it’s like everyone is dancing under the northern lights. Smoke from dry ice swirls amongst an array of blue, green, pink, and gold lights. Bodies are fused together, moving to the beat of the music.
“Come on, let’s dance.” Jenna grabs my wrist and drags me onto the dance floor. “Loosen up, Annie.”
Dancing isn’t my thing. I’m stiff, awkward, and nervous as all get-out. I feel like a flamingo on roller skates. I’m envious of how simple and beautiful it is as Jenna rolls her hips to the music.
“Motion is lotion, baby,” Wendy quips. We all laugh at her ridiculousness, but she’s right. As I relax and let myself groove, I can feel the anxiety fading away.
The cavernous room is filled wall-to-wall with people dancing to the club music. It seems like there’s no room for anyone else, but somehow, when Jenna, Wendy, and I hit it, the space magically clears. Of course, my roommates sandwich me, forcing me to dance with them, and encouraging the creepiest of guys to stare at us. But it doesn’t matter.
We laugh and start dancing, twisting, turning, holding hands as we change sides. We’re all sporting ear-to-ear grins, we look like idiots, and we don’t care. Inside, we’re just happy; happy, and more alive than I’ve felt in a long time. I have that feeling of knowing that I’ll never forget this exact moment, that ten years from now, I’ll still remember tonight as one single, perfect moment. Music, friends, not a care in the world.
The song changes and the feeling slips away, but I’m still buzzing and smiling. For once, I’m glad I let them drag me out of the house. “Let’s get some drinks,” Wendy says and heads toward the bar.
Jenna and I follow behind, elbows out to the sides to help push people out of the way. The three of us weasel into a clearing against the mahogany bar. Jenna calls over the bartender and orders a couple of whiskey sours.
“Having fun?” Jenna asks, shooting me a wide smile.
“Actually, I am.” I wink at her and chuckle.
The three of us clink our glasses and huddle together. A trio of guys dressed in suit pants and button-down shirts with slicked-back hair walks over. They are very handsome, and they definitely know it. As they approach, they immediately split up, one coming up to each of us.
The tallest of the three men leans into me, his lips gently brushing my ear. “And what’s your name?” His voice is a smooth baritone that slices right through the loud music like a hot knife through butter.
“Annie,” I say and bite my lower lip as I shrink in on myself.
“Nice to meet you, Annie.” The man pulls his head back and extends his hand.
I shake his hand and look back over to Jenna and Wendy. They’re deep in conversation already. My man steps closer and his fingers gently grasp my elbow. “Annie, why don’t you have a shot with me?”
“Um, okay.”
The man walks over to the bar and waves down the bartender. Moments later, he’s back with shot glasses for him and me. I take it from his hand. His fingertip brushes my palm as he passes it over. It feels like a spark leaps from him to me. “Cheers, Annie.” He winks. It’s the smoothest wink I’ve ever seen in my life. Somehow, it manages not to be corny or silly at all—just smooth, effortless, seductive. I almost shiver, despite the heat in the room.
I put the glass to my lips and throw back my head, forcing the acrid liquid down my throat. Repulsive is a massive understatement. I cringe and wrinkle my nose. The man smiles as I h
old down a gag. I hand him back my glass.
“Another,” he says firmly.
Before I can protest, he’s already handing another glass over to me. I see the girls to my right throwing back drinks with abandon. Against my better judgment, I drink another.
“Another.”
“Really, I can’t,” I cough, but again, he’s too fast for me. My head is starting to spin a little, getting close to out of control. I try to refuse.
“Take it, Annie!” Jenna calls over. I see her peek around the bulk of the man talking to her and give me a broad smile and a thumbs-up. I groan.
“One more, but that’s it,” I warn the man in front of me.
He grins and shrugs. “Whatever you say, darling.”
I throw it back. The last one is much smoother than the first. It slides down my throat and adds to the warm glow in my belly. I feel my hips swaying to the music as if they have a life of their own.
“I think that ought to do it for now. Annie, would you like to dance?” The man offers his hand.
“Sure.” I fumble a little to place my hand in his, the alcohol taking effect. “By the way, what’s your name?” I call as he leads us back towards the dance floor.
The man turns his head over his shoulder to meet my gaze. “Stephen.”
We reach the edge of the mass of people and slip inside, the crowd parting like waves and then closing behind us, swallowing us deep within the hot, grinding bodies. Stephen pulls me into his embrace. In the dark, all I can see are his high cheekbones and shining eyes. We press closer together, bouncing and swaying to the hard bass pumping through the speakers. The white flash of his teeth is as bright as the lights above.
His body pressed against mine is rock solid, warm, and unyielding. I can feel the heat in my stomach and between my legs, rising up, boiling over. I can barely remember the old Annie, the one who wanted to stay in bed and watch people play doctor on television. I feel too alive for a night like that.