by ANDREA SMITH
“The gentleman at the bar sent this over to you.”
I looked over and the guy was watching me. He smiled when our eyes made contact. I smiled back, and raised my glass as if I were toasting him. He toasted me back. I took a big sip. Yes this was definitely nice. The next thing I knew he was standing beside my chair at the table.
“Listen,” he said, quietly, “My name is James. I don’t know what the situation is with your boyfriend, but I can tell you this. If I was with someone as sexy and as gorgeous as you, I think I would turn my phone off for the night.”
He gave me an endearing smile. He was really handsome. I smiled back at him, feeling that I needed to explain.
“Oh, no, you have it wrong,” I said. “He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my . . . uh, employer of sorts.”
“Oh, I see,” he replied, eyebrows rising.
“No, I don’t think you do,” I explained. “He and I are traveling to take care of some business that has come up.”
“Listen, miss, please, I’m not judging anyone.”
Just then Trey approached the table, visibly irritated by the guy who was talking to me. My fresh cocktail had not gone unnoticed by him either.
“Excuse me,” smooth and silky said. “Is there a problem?”
I was feeling really bold. Let’s just put it out there on the table I thought.
“No, no problem Mr. Sinclair. This nice gentleman here, James, bought me a drink. He assumed that you were my inattentive boyfriend, which I have tried to explain is not the case. I told him that you are my employer, but somehow, he doubts this. Could you please put his mind at ease by confirming to him that you are not my inattentive boyfriend, but merely my employer?”
I looked up at him sweetly. Trey smiled at me good-naturedly which caught me a little of guard.
“Of course, Ms. Preston.”
He turned to James.
“James is it?” he asked.
James nodded his head affirmatively.
“Well, James, Ms. Preston is correct. Our relationship is simply one of employer-employee. You have no need to fear me,” he said cordially. “Of course,” Trey continued, “I can’t speak for Juanita.”
“Juanita?” James asked.
Juanita my mind asked. Who the hell is Juanita?
“Oh, I see she didn’t get to Juanita yet. Juanita, her life partner?”
Oh my god. I was going to kill him!
James looked back and forth between us, finally deciding that he believed Trey. He mumbled a quick, “Nice to meet you, take care,” to me and then he was off. Trey had a very self-satisfied look on his handsome, dimpled face.
Trey sat back down at the table, extremely smug. I wasn’t going to let that last for long. I was pissed. I needed to change the subject though. I needed to address one that had been bothering me. Now that I had some liquid courage this was as good as time as any.
“Trey,” I said, looking at him directly.
“Yes?”
“There’s a bit of confusion as to where I will be assigned when I get back. The doctor has cleared me you know. I really want to start working with the horses again.”
“Tylar,” he answered, in a very serious tone, leaning forward. “I have some trepidation about you working amongst all those horses.”
(You mean all those men I thought.)
“How would you feel about focusing solely on getting Derringer ready for dressage competition?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Oh my God, yes, yes, yes. But I knew my limitations with dressage. I was not to training status. Trey read my mind.
“We have a dressage trainer starting Monday over at ‘the Belle.’ You will work with him and he will train you as a trainer, but also, you will be the one riding Derringer in the competition. He will get you prepared for that as well.”
“Oh my God, Trey!” I squealed, jumping up to hug him. “Thank you so much. This is more than I ever dreamed of!”
“It’s not a favor I’m doing for you Tylar. My expectation is that you will learn and then later you will train. The competitions have nice purses and I expect you to bring some in for Sinclair Stables, understood?”
“I will,” I promised.
“Good,” he said. “Report over to the stables at ‘the Belle Monday then.”
“Are we to board Derringer there?”
“No, I would prefer he stay in the stables close to you so that you can continue to watch his care. You can ride him over daily on the trail.”
“Perfect,” I said smiling.
“Tylar,” Trey said his serious tone back. “Those phone calls I received. I’m going to be fairly tied up for the next couple of weeks. I really need to be able to depend on you to be careful, be watchful and focus on Derringer, okay?”
“Absolutely, Trey. You have nothing to worry about.” I was glowing.
We returned back to the Crowne Plaza and I got ready for bed. I was waiting to see what exactly Trey had in mind as far as sleeping arrangements; I had my pajamas on, teeth brushed and was ready to hit the sheets. Trey was on his laptop typing away.
“Are you going to be much longer?” I asked.
“I’m sorry,” he said, distracted. “Is this disturbing your sleep?”
“Well not really,” I replied, kind of embarrassed.
“Go on to sleep,” he advised. “I’ll be to bed shortly.” (Whatever!)
I crawled under the covers and was asleep within minutes. I never heard Trey come to bed, though I was happy when I awoke the following morning to find he had his arm thrown over me possessively. My Trey . . .
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Everything would be perfect tonight. Gina and I had spent the day shopping for my birthday celebration at the Sanctuary, Gina and Ian’s hot spot club. We treated ourselves to an afternoon at the spa. We were manicured, pedicured, buffed and waxed. The waxing was a particularly good idea as our skimpy nightclub dresses left little to the imagination.
My dress was a tight white strapless poly/spandex number, with a colorful abstract splash print at the top in yellow, fuchsia, indigo, purple, green and orange. There was a hint of the same splash pattern just at the hemline. The satiny fabric had an elastic top and banded hem for a secure fit, and secure it was. I told Gina she would likely have to peel it off of me if I had too much to drink at the party. She laughed wickedly and replied it wouldn’t be her peeling it off of me with any luck.
I had really splurged on the shoes at Gina’s urging. They were evening sandals by Alfani; 3-1/2” mirror heels with satin uppers. They had round open toes in the front, with back zippers. The ones I bought were a champagne color, with all-over beaded jewel detail. They were hot.
The cosmetician had painted my toenails and fingernails in assorted colors: yellow, fuchsia, indigo, purple green and orange to blend with the splash print colors of my night club dress. Gina had given me a toe ring for my birthday that had a small diamond stud encrusted in the gold band. I loved it.
Gina’s dress was a short two-tone, white at the top with spaghetti straps, black from the empire waist down. Ruffles with raw edges adorned the bust line, and elastic side shirring allowed for a steamy fit, showing all of her curves. She was wearing Michael by Michael Kors’ black molly sandals with 4” covered heels; the upper part was leather and featured a strappy caged ankle and open toes. They were definitely hot.
Gina had done my hair and make-up as if she did it for a living on movie sets. I had difficulty believing that it was me when I saw my reflection. She had piled my hair up loosely on top with a bejeweled clip, letting some of the escaping layers cascade out “messily” as she called it.
My eyebrows were plucked in perfect arches, and she had used multi-shades of eye shadows in mauves, plums and violet (she claimed that was the pallet for light brown eyes). She had used dark brown pencil to darken by brows just a bit, then dark brown liner on my lower lids. She selected a smoky dark grey mascara to use on my lashes with a special applicator brush that w
orked magic on making them appear so much longer.
I accented with gold dangling earrings, a thin delicate gold choker, and matching ankle chain. I stopped short of getting any further body piercings despite Gina’s badgering to do so. I recalled how the belly button piercing had gone over. It seemed like that had been ages ago instead of just a few short weeks. I couldn’t think about that now. Nothing was going to spoil this night for me. This was my night as Gina had declared it; we would party til we puked if necessary. She promised my twenty-first birthday would be one to remember. I would hold her to that promise.
I gave myself one more assessment in the mirror. Gina knocked on the door between our adjoining rooms.
“It’s unlocked, Gina, come on in,” I yelled. "I’m in the bedroom.”
She joined me there momentarily seeing me now that I had put on the finishing touches.
“You look fucking awesome!” she screeched in her high pitched voice. “Girlfriend, we are going to rock the house down tonight!”
"Well I'm not sure about that," I replied, spritzing a small bit of shining mist on my hair. "I'd be content with getting asked to dance once or twice and possibly getting
a little bit buzzed.”
“You are thinking too small again, Ty,” she scolded. “What have I told you about that? Anyway,” she continued, “Got another surprise for you birthday bitch,” she laughed.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, "I think you have done quite enough, Gina, the rooms, the limo, the toe ring!”
We both burst out laughing at that one.
"What is the surprise?" I asked.
"Just maybe some special friends stopping by."
“What friends?” I asked.
“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it? Grab your purse – make sure your cell is in there, too. The limo awaits us.”
“Is it time already?”
I hadn’t realized how quickly ten o’clock slipped up on us. It had been a busy whirlwind day, though.
“Let’s do it,” I said, grabbing my purse.
The white shiny limo pulled up to the overhang of the hotel just as Gina had promised. People in the lobby watched as we clicked across the shiny black marble floor in our spiked heels and tight skimpy club dresses. The hotel doorman opened the glass doors as we approached, nodding and smiling to us.
The limo driver was out of the car; he opened the double limo doors, allowing us to take our seats across from one another. It had a flat screen TV, a wet bar, and the typical sound proof glass divider between the driver and coach area. The stereo system looked complicated, but I was sure Gina could figure it out.
We settled in, and Gina immediately adjusted the climate control, lighting inside the car, and tuned the stereo in to an all music satellite station for 70’s and 80’s music.
"You are going to hear a lot of this tonight at the Sanctuary," she explained.
"It's a dance club and what better to dance to then '80's hits, right?"
"Ain't too many peeps dancing to Rap," I agreed.
“I really think you will like the emcee and the live groups that will be at the club tonight. The light show is choreographed to fit the various songs, and they really mix it up. The sound system alone cost us almost as much as the building”
I could tell Gina was proud of what she and Ian had done with the club. And why shouldn’t she be I thought. For their young ages, they had really put it all on the line. I was glad to see how well it was doing for them.
She continued talking about Ian, and how is younger brother Piers was in from the west coast, San Diego. She said that she really wanted me to meet Piers; he was about twenty-five or twenty-six she thought, but was certain that he and I would hit it off immediately. I listened to her go on about Piers and suddenly there was quiet.
“Stop it,” Gina said abruptly.
I was totally caught off guard.
“Stop what?” I asked, confused as I looked over at her.
“You know damn well what, Ty,” she said almost accusingly.
“You have got to stop thinking about Trey or you will let it ruin your night.”
“Who said anything about Trey? I wasn’t thinking about him at all,” I lied.
“The fuck you weren’t” she snapped. “You need to let it go, Tylar; forget about Trey. Trey hasn’t called you all week; he has totally blown off your twenty-first birthday! I don’t get it, is the sex that good?”
“Look,” I replied, “Things are more complicated than that, Gina, and you know it.”
“What’s so complicated about it? He’s a fucking control freak that wants to pin you to his wall like some freaking butterfly that he's caught in his net. Does he ever tell you how he feels? Does he ever give you a clue as to where he sees the two of you going?"
I sighed and remained silent.
"He doesn’t even ask you to come to Atlanta with him, does he?”
“Ah, in case you forgot, Gina, I do have a job in Bristol and even if I didn’t, why should I accompany him to Atlanta, anyway?”
“Because you fucking love the control freak for some inexplicable reason that I cannot possibly fathom, well, except that he is gorgeous and rich,” she threw in laughing.
I gave her a look of warning; she was ready to cross the line and needed to back off a little.
“It doesn’t matter how I feel about him anyway,” I replied. “Trey has never once told me that he loves me, so really it’s a moot point.”
“So, maybe he hasn’t, but he sure as hell wants you tucked away in Bristol, waiting for him when he makes it back occasionally,” she countered.
“It just pisses me off that you allow it, too. ‘Tylar be here when I get back’; ‘Tylar, why would you desecrate your naval like that? ‘Tylar get in bed and spread your legs"
(She was doing her best to imitate Trey’s soft and silky voice, and did a fairly good impression of it with the exception of the last one.) Gina had no clue that Trey and I had never been sexual.
“We don’t have that kind of a relationship, Gina; I’ve told you it’s not that serious.”
“It doesn’t excuse the fact that he’s not here with you right now does it? It doesn't excuse the fact that his shit
is evidently way more important than your twenty-first fucking birthday, right?"
“I suppose,” I said, quietly wanting to get off of the subject.
That was not going to happen because Gina was now on a roll, east coast style.
“Or what about him telling you he’s in fucking Atlanta all this week, what about that? If Ian and I hadn’t had to visit his firm on Tuesday to sign the quit claim deed transferring the Sanctuary into an LLC with one of his partners, you never would have found out he wasn’t even in the state, would you?”
“Probably not, Gina,” I replied. “It’s not my style to check up on him.”
“Well, I’m sorry, friend, but it is my style, at least with a guy like him,” she scoffed.
Now I was starting to get a little ‘east coast,’ with Gina.
“I didn’t ask you to check up on him, Gina, now did I? But when he gets back and finds out you did, he’s going to think I did and I am not that freaking worried one way or another about where he is or what he is up to. I don’t roll that way.”
“Hey,” Gina snapped, but not really pissed, “I don’t do things so as to be obvious about it, Ty. I just happened to ask his assistant if Trey was in, that I was an old neighbor from Bristol, which is sort of the truth.”
“Okay,” I responded, “So what about when he gets back and his assistant said that an old neighbor was asking about him? He knows that you are I are friends, what conclusion do you think he will come to then?”
“No worries, Ty,” she giggled mischievously, “I told her a fake name!”
Oh great, I thought.
“Besides, that,” she said, “why are you defending him? You’re pissed at him most of the time anyway?”
“I told you, Gina, we had a bi
t of an argument, when we got back from Kentucky so you know, it’s not like I even expected that he would.”
“It doesn’t matter, Ty. Let’s not mention the asshole for the rest of the night. I don’t want you and me arguing on your birthday!”
“I’m not the one who brought his name up in the first place,” I pointed out. “I'm with you; this is my night that you made possible. I love you for it. Please let's not argue?"
I gave her a hug and finally we got off of the whole Trey subject.
“Hey,” Gina said, “It’s time for a birthday drink for the birthday girl! What’s your poison, Ty?”
“How about, vodka sonic?” I asked.
“Okay,” she said, “Directions please?”
“Vodka, soda, a splash of tonic, and lime.” I said.
I was glad that she didn’t ask where I had learned about vodka sonics. It had become my favorite drink since Trey and I had traveled to Louisville.
The Sanctuary was located in the trendy Buckhead district of Atlanta. The limo pulled up to the curb outside of the entrance, where people were lined up to get in based on the capacity limit. The music from inside was filtering out onto the sidewalk and groups of young patrons patiently waited for entrance as patrons left, which wasn’t happening at very quick pace.
Gina loved this part of it. The chauffeur exited our limo and opened the doors for both of us to exit. Gina told him she would call his cell when we were ready to be picked up.
Guys waiting in the crowd outside let out low cat whistles as we exited the limo and headed up to the entrance.
Gina led the way, pulling me along behind her. I wasn’t really used to the high heels and didn’t feel as steady as Gina on my feet. Once at the door, the guy selling tickets obviously recognized the owner and allowed us through.
Inside, the place was jammed packed and it was fairly large. There were various levels of the club with tables, booths, a bar area and multi-level dance floor that was huge.
The dance floor was already flooded with people. The current live band was playing a number by Pink, “So What.” It had become one of my favorite songs lately.
I noticed that there was a mezzanine that that bordered the entire club with two separate staircases leading to it. Gina read my thoughts.