by Hannah Ford
And this was going to be mine.
**
The Aubrey Zane book launch party was being held at a club called UNICORN, which I could tell was a mistake from the moment I saw it.
The club itself was trendy and upscale, and it had almost a Japanese manga feel to it – it was done in bright shades of blue, pink, and purple mixed with a touch of yellow, the couches were upholstered in hot pink fur, the walls plastered with solid silver glitter wallpaper.
The waitresses wore strapped horns on their heads and tight white body suits with long tails hanging from the back, their bodies painted in sparkly body glitter, swirling abstract tattoos of hearts and stars painted on their cheeks.
The actual space was light and airy, the bar lining the walls in a wrap around pattern. The pink fur couches and high-topped tables dotted the open area, and there were other tables, suspended off the ground a few feet by large pulleys, that you had to step up onto. They swung lazily in the air, almost like a hammock, giving the illusion that the people sitting there were busy and important.
Music pounded through the club, pop music that added to the whimsical feel of the place – MmBop by Hanson, Barbie Girl by Aqua, remixes that played up the high voices and silly lyrics.
It was a great space.
But it was all wrong for Aubrey Zane’s party.
Aubrey’s book was supposed to be about her journey through mental illness, it was supposed to present her to the world as a tough chick who had been to hell and back. It was supposed to show that she was more than bubble gum and ice cream.
And yet this whole place went beyond bubble gum and ice cream – it was more like My Little Pony on steroids.
“Wow,” Isaac said. “This place is intense.”
“Very,” Nessa said. She looked great, dressed in a fitted black dress that cinched in at the waist and hugged her curves. I was wearing one of the dresses Callum sent over, a tight grey bandage dress, with matching grey stiletto heels.
“Do you guys want a drink?” Garrett, Isaac’s friend asked. He was a nice guy, new to the city just like me. He’d kept me entertained on the ride to the club by giving a play-by-play of the people walking by outside, making up stories for what they were up to.
“Sure,” I said. “White wine for me.”
“Same,” Nessa said.
“I’ll go with you,” Isaac said, and the two boys headed for the bar.
“Oh my God,” Nessa said, clutching my arm. “Do you think I’m going to have sex with him tonight?”
“Isaac? I’m not sure.” I was scanning the club. The party had just started. In fact, it didn’t seem like Audrey was even here yet, but even I could tell the turnout wasn’t that bad. There were enough people here already to be acceptable, and more were coming through the front doors all the time.
I spotted Kiersten across the room, talking to a good-looking man in a slim cut Italian suit. She saw me and waved, raised her drink and gave me a nod, then turned back to her companion.
I let out a sigh of relief, glad she’d seen me, and happy she wasn’t coming over. It made it clear that this party was just for show, that it was good I was here, but that she wasn’t expecting me to work.
Garrett returned to where Nessa and I were standing, and as he placed a glass of wine in my hand, a commotion began to rise from outside, yelling and activity, the sound of flash bulbs going off, the cry of reporters. I turned and there she was, walking through the double doors of the club. Aubrey Zane. She was so small in person, her long blonde hair falling in tangles down her back.
She was wearing a zebra print minidress, her lips painted bright red. She was rushed to the center table, the one that was pulled up off the main floor, away from the crowd, where she settled in with her entourage.
“Wow,” Garrett said, shaking his head. “That poor girl. She has no privacy.”
“None,” I agreed.
“It’s like she’s living in a fish bowl.”
I took a sip of my wine and continued looking around the club, hoping to spot a familiar face. Were all of the people here my work colleagues? I hadn’t met anyone else during my disastrous first day – just Kiersten and the Betty, the receptionist. Was I supposed to be mingling, introducing myself to people?
I took a long sip of my wine, suddenly nervous and feeling out of place.
I would have given anything for an Ativan.
It was my go-to when my social anxiety was roaring out of control. It kept it at bay. But Callum had destroyed my pills and I hadn’t had a chance to call my doctor back in Michigan to get more.
The music suddenly got turned up, and Isaac grabbed Nessa’s hand, the two of them heading for the dance floor and throwing their bodies into the throng people who had started gyrating to the heavy beat.
“Do you want to dance?” Garrett asked.
“I’m not much of a dancer,” I said apologetically.
“Me neither.” He grinned. “So you work with these people?”
“Yes,” I said. “But I don’t know any of them. Today was my first day.”
“First days are the worst,” he said.
“Yeah. I just....I wanted this job so much, and now I’m worried it’s not going to be all it’s cracked up to be.”
“It’s probably a bit too early to be thinking like that,” he said. “First days are hard on anyone, no matter what the job.”
“True.” I sighed and drained the rest of my wine.
“You know what you need?” he said. “You need a stress release. Do you want to go to a game this weekend? The Yankees are at home, have you been?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“It’s fun,” he said. “We can watch the Red Sox fans get all upset when the Yanks win.”
My first instinct was to say no, but then I realized there was no good reason not to. Garrett was cute. He was nice. He was my age. He was in grad school, he was inviting me out to a perfectly normal activity.
“Okay,” I said. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
“Good.” He smiled and then indicated my empty glass. “You need another drink?”
“That’d be great.”
“Be back in a sec.”
He took off toward the bar, and I leaned against the wall, tapping my foot in time to the music. The alcohol had relaxed me a tiny bit, and I watched as Nessa and Isaac danced, Nessa’s head thrown back in ecstasy, a smile on her face as Isaac put his hands on her hips and pulled her toward him.
This wasn’t so bad, I told myself. Today might have sucked, but nothing happened that was irreparable. And tomorrow is a chance to start over.
And then Garrett was back, handing me another glass of wine.
What happened next was so fast I almost couldn’t process it.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Callum was there.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Callum demanded, shoving Garrett away from me.
“Wow,” Garrett said cockily. “Relax, man. What’s your problem?”
But Callum wasn’t messing around. He grabbed Garrett by the shirt, pushed him up against the wall. “Stay away from her,” he growled. “Do not talk to her. Do not look at her. If I hear of you even looking at her, trying to contact her, I will destroy you. Do you understand?”
“Callum,” I pleaded, reaching out and grabbing at his arm. But he was so strong, his body seemingly made of granite, that there was nothing I could do. “Let him go.”
Callum shook Garrett again. “Do. You. Understand?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Garrett said, holding his hands up. “I understand.”
Callum let him go, and Garrett rearranged his shirt. “Crazy fuck,” he muttered before heading for the exit.
“Garrett,” I called after him. “Garrett, wait!” I started to go after him, but Callum grabbed me around the waist.
“Let him go,” he said. “He’s a loser.”
I turned on him, my eyes widening. “How dare you.”
“How dare I what?” he ask
ed, undeterred by my anger. “Come in here and save you from some college dickhead who was trying to get you drunk?”
“He wasn’t trying to get me drunk,” I said.
“He was plying you with wine.”
“I had one glass.”
“For now.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, tears filling my eyes. “Why are you tormenting me this way?”
He loosened his grip on me, and I looked quickly around the club, trying to see if anyone had noticed what was happening. Luckily, the music was so loud and the club so packed that it didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention to us.
My heart pumped in time with the music, the blood pounding at my temples.
If there’s even any hint that the two of you are engaged in anything inappropriate, I will fire you immediately.
“Tormenting you?” Callum growled “You’re the one tormenting me.”
“What?” I cried. “I haven’t even – ”
And then his hands were on my hips, and he pulled me toward him, his pelvis pushing into mine. I could feel his erection through his pants as he brought his mouth to my neck and kissed me softly, his hands roaming over my ass.
“Callum,” I said. “Are you insane?” I tried to push him away, but he held me close, his grip on me like a vice.
“I want you to feel what you do to me,” he said. “Do you know I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you?” He kissed my neck again, his teeth nipping at my skin, like he wanted to convey the ferocity of what he was feeling.
The music pulsed around us, and I felt myself giving into him, the way I always did, letting the hope of having something more with him invade my soul even though I knew it was impossible, knew that letting my guard down with him, even for just the slightest of moments, could only lead to devastating heartbreak.
“Stop,” I said, but my voice was weak.
“No. Leave with me.”
“I can’t,” I said, but my resolve was wavering.
He pushed himself further into me, his hard cock pushing against my dress, his hands holding me firmly against it.
He leaned down. “If you do not leave with me right now,” he growled. “I will be incapable of stopping myself from doing something we will both regret. I will pick you up, and I will take you out of here. And when we get to my apartment, I will spank you so hard for disobeying me you won’t be able to sit for days without remembering the consequences of your actions.”
He sounded like a man who was going to do exactly what he promised. I glanced around again desperately. It still didn’t seem as if anyone had noticed we were talking.
“I’m here with my friend,” I said, trying once more to wrench out of his grasp. “She’ll worry.”
“Text her.”
I struggled against him, but he held me as if I was nothing, as if my strength was completely inconsequential.
My heart beat with even more intensity, it’s strong rhythm pushing the blood through my body, my fight or flight response on full alert. My first instinct was to fight, but that wasn’t going to work, and neither was getting away from him.
If anyone caught me with him, his arms around me, his hips grinding into mine, I would surely be fired.
I felt my knees go weak.
“Okay,” I said. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”
He wrapped his hand around mine and led me toward the door. I was grateful he was walking quickly, because the less time we were in here, the less chance there would be of someone catching us.
That was the only reason I was leaving with him, I told myself.
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t true.
***
When we got onto the sidewalk, I took in gulps of fresh air, trying to calm myself. Callum led me down the street and around the corner, dragging me along behind him.
“Who the fuck was he?” he demanded.
“Who the fuck was who?”
He was walking quickly, dodging people deftly as he went, and I slammed into a woman holding a brown paper grocery bag. But Callum was pulling me along again before I had a chance to apologize.
“Callum,” I said. “Stop!”
But he didn’t listen, instead turning another corner, pulling me into the lobby of some random building and pushing me up against the wall.
“Who was he?” he demanded.
“Who?”
“The boy you were with.” He spat the words, saying ‘boy’ instead of man or guy.
“Garrett.”
“Garrett.” He repeated the word, his eyes blazing. “Did he touch you?”
“No.”
“Did he kiss you?”
“No.”
“Tell me you’re mine.” His body was still pressed up against mine, his eyes crazed, the aggression and desperation evident on his face, in the set of his angular jaw, in the intensity of his expression.
“I’m yours,” I said, breathless.
He pushed my hands up over my head. “Again.”
“I’m yours.”
“Tell me I own you.”
“You own me, Callum.”
His lips pressed into mine, his tongue invading my mouth. “You will not see him again,” he said. “Do you understand me?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
“Good.” He took my hand and pulled me back out onto the street, led me back around another corner and to his car, a different one than I’d been in before, the day we’d gone to lunch. This one was flashier, black, low to the ground, with tinted windows and shiny silver rims. “Get in,” he commanded, and I slid into the leather seat, watching out the window as people streamed toward Unicorn, toward the party I was supposed to be at.
Callum didn’t drive far, only a few streets over.
He parked the car and led me up the steps of a four-story brownstone and into a dusty elevator, one of those old fashioned ones with the kind of door that slid shut with a gate.
The elevator began its ascent to the top of the building.
Callum seemed to have calmed down some, and I had too, my breathing and heart rate slowing.
Now that I’d had time to think, my stomach was flipping over how much of a bad idea this was. This man was obviously slightly unhinged, the way he kept showing up places, pushing me up against buildings, kissing me. He’d told me many times he would leave me alone, only to show up wherever I was. It was unsettling.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye. God, he was so fucking sexy. He was wearing jeans that hung low on his hips, work boots, a white t-shirt under a black bomber jacket.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
When the elevator doors opened, we were in a small loft. It looked like it had been some kind of industrial space at one point, the walls exposed brick, the windows small.
The living room was sparse, with a cream shag rug and two brown leather couches. No television. No art on the walls.
There were two doors to the left that led off the living room, I assumed one to a bedroom and one to a bathroom. A tiny kitchen was nestled in the corner, if you could even call it that. It was the kind of kitchen you’d normally find in a hotel suite, little more than a burner and a refrigerator.
It wasn’t the kind of place I would have expected Callum to live.
Yes, everything was shiny and new – granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, the floors polished to perfection. But it was small and sparse, in stark contrast to the house he owned in Florida, where everything was huge and opulent.
He tossed his keys on the counter, reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, took a sip and looked at me for a long moment.
I stared back at him.
“I can’t fuck you,” he said.
“I didn’t… I mean, I wasn’t expecting --” I fumbled with my words, thrown at his bluntness.
“I cannot be with anyone for more than one night,” he said.
“But we were already together for one night.”
“
I know.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck, Adriana, I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stay away from you. I keep trying and I just…you have my mind a fucking mess and I don’t know what to do about it.”
He crossed the room and sat down on the couch, and after a moment, I walked over and sat down next to him.
“Why do you have to stay away from me?” I asked. “I don’t want you to.”
“I just have to,” he said. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.” I reached out and took his hand, placed my fingers against his huge palm.
But he pulled away and shook his head. After a moment, he turned to me, his blue eyes wild. “What if… what if we didn’t have sex?”
“What?”
“What if we didn’t fuck? Just everything else. Then it wouldn’t be breaking any rules.” He took my face in his hands, ran his thumbs over my cheekbones.
I closed my eyes and he kissed me softly.
“I could spank you, own you, touch you everywhere,” he whispered huskily. “Would you like that, Lemon?”
“But why, Callum?” I asked, hating the desperation in my voice. “Why can’t this just be normal?”
“Because I’m not normal. This could never be what you want it to be, Adriana. But I just…I can’t help myself.”
He was kissing my face, his lips moving over my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, my chin. I tilted my head and he slid his mouth down to the hollow of my throat.
I groaned.
He stood up and took off his shirt, exposing that hard, chiseled body to me, his broad chest heaving with excitement, his eyes glinting wickedly as he looked down at me.
“Stand up,” he commanded. “I want to look at you.”
I stood up, his gaze invading my skin, my body burning as he drunk me in.
“Bend over the side of the couch.”
I leaned over, bracing myself as I felt him tug the back of my dress up, exposing my thong and the cheeks of my ass.
“Do you know what it did to me, seeing you talking to him?” he demanded.
I shook my head.
“Out loud, Adriana.”
“No.”
“It drove me insane. It made me feel like I was losing my mind. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.”