Drained: The Lucid

by E. L. Blaisdell

  One of Amber’s roommates came to the back door. He waved at Riley through the window cutout and tackled the multiple locks to let her in. Rolle was a shaggy-haired man whose ready smile showed off the prominent gap between his front teeth.

  “How’s it going?” Riley greeted as she was let in.

  “Working on a new song,” Rolle said, nodding to an acoustic guitar that laid on the kitchen table. “Wanna hear?”

  Riley glanced up the narrow staircase to the second floor. “Maybe another time,” she said gently. “I’ve got some news for Amber. Is she in her room?”

  Rolle retrieved his guitar and plucked a few strings. “Yup.”

  Riley bobbed her head in thanks and climbed up the steps, two at a time. She wasn’t in a rush to get away from Rolle or in a hurry to get to Amber, but the narrow stairs pressed in on her uncomfortably. There were two bedrooms on the second floor and a small bathroom that Amber and one of the other roommates shared. Riley found the door to her girlfriend’s bedroom slightly ajar. She knocked on the wood frame, not wanting to barge in, and patiently waited in the small apex of the top floor. After hearing no response she pushed the chipped door forward.

  Amber laid on her stomach sprawled on top of her mattress with her back to the bedroom entrance. She had earbuds in and was listening to music from her laptop. Despite the chill of the afternoon, she wore a short-sleeved olive tunic over black leggings. Her legs were bent at a right angle, wiggling feet pointed to the ceiling and kept time with an inaudible beat. She hummed aloud as she flipped through the pages of a glossy magazine. Riley didn’t recognize the song, but her humming was off-key.

  With eyes never leaving her girlfriend, Riley stepped into the room and silently closed the door behind her. She stalked closer and closer. The worn floorboards creaked beneath each step, but Amber never turned around; engaging tabloids and loud music forged the perfect distraction. It was an opportunity she couldn’t resist.

  Riley reached out her hand, extending a single finger. She slowly closed the distance and ran the tip of her pointer finger down the length of Amber’s foot from big toe to her heel. Her unsuspecting girlfriend shrieked, jerking so violently on the bed that her earbuds were ripped from her head and the laptop almost tossed to the floor.

  “Oh my God,” Riley gasped, not expecting that reaction. “Babe, it’s me.”

  Amber floundered and flailed on the mattress until she realized who had snuck up on her. “You asshole.” She pulled herself up on her knees and slapped Riley’s arm. “Why would you do that to me?”

  Riley couldn’t hold back an evil giggle. “I’m sorry. I wanted to scare you, but not that badly.”

  “You’re lucky I didn’t kick you in the face.” Amber’s brow furrowed, and she pushed out her bottom lip.

  Riley winced at the scenario. Her friends had given her a hard enough time about a simple bruise; they would have formed a full-out, pitchfork-carrying mob if she’d actually broken her nose.

  “And it’s a nice face, too,” Amber said, a small smile coming to her lips that told Riley she was forgiven. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining,” she noted. “I just didn’t expect to see you today.”

  Riley let herself be pulled onto the bed and onto her back. Amber laid beside her. The brass bed frame shuddered beneath their combined weight. “I had some news I wanted to share with you.”

  Amber propped herself up on one elbow. “Oh?” She softly stroked at the narrow ribbon of skin that had appeared between the bottom hem of Riley’s shirt and her jeans.

  Riley felt the stress of the day and the guilt she felt about Aaron start to melt under the sensation of her girlfriend’s touch. “Yeah, I got raise at work.”

  “You did? That’s fantastic, Riles.” Amber paused the movement of her hands long enough to place a soft kiss on Riley’s mouth.

  “And that’s not all. My boss told me they want to give me a promotion to be a manager. Lots of perks, more normal hours.”

  “As in, you would actually have your nights free?” Amber guessed.

  Riley drummed her fingers on her ribcage. “Mmhm.”

  “When will you know if you get the job?”

  “Hyrum said it’s mine if I want it.”

  “You’re going to say yes, right?” Amber brushed her lips against Riley’s this time around. “Of course you are, why wouldn’t you take it?”

  Riley pulled her lower lip between her top and bottom teeth in contemplation. Accepting the promotion should have been automatic, but she found herself metaphorically dragging her feet.

  “We should celebrate.” Amber bounced off the bed. She threw open the door to her closet and began rifling through her clothes.

  Riley pushed herself up on her elbows and watched her girlfriend pull one dress after another out of the closet. She didn’t know how she managed to fit so many outfits in the narrow space. It was like watching clowns tumble out of a car. “Would it be cool if we hung out here tonight?”

  Amber turned on her heel and held a pale yellow dress up to her frame. “Why would we do that? You got amazing news, Riles. We should go celebrate.”

  “But I’m not even sure I want the job,” Riley admitted. “And …” There were other complications and guilt that would come with the promotion, but she wasn’t at liberty to share them with anyone outside of the company. “I’d really rather stay in tonight.”

  The excitement on Amber’s freckled face dimmed. “But we never go out. We always spend our time together in these four walls,” she said, waving her arms around her bedroom. “And on the rare occasion in your apartment.”

  Riley pulled her legs to her chin. “But bedroom walls are great.”

  Amber’s shoulders sagged, and she let the yellow dress fall loose at her side. “Okay.”

  Riley clambered to her feet to close the distance between them. She couldn’t stand to see Amber so disappointed and to know that she was the reason for it made her uneasy. “Never mind. You win, Am. Let’s go out.”

  Amber looked up under sooty lashes. “Are you sure?” Her voice lilted hopefully at the end of the question.

  Riley wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s cinched waist. “Anything you want. It’s the least I can do for scaring you half to death.”

  Amber’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’d almost forgotten about that.” She tugged herself free and began the task of getting ready. She stood in front of her vanity mirror and touched up her makeup. “Now we’re definitely going out.”

  • • •

  Amber ran her hand over the new leather interior. “They just gave you this new car?” she openly gaped.

  Riley turned the heated steering wheel—an unneeded luxury for southern California—and pulled the vehicle into the parking lot of the Hollywood restaurant. She had never been to this place before, preferring twenty-four-hour greasy spoon diners herself, but Amber had batted her eyelashes in such a way that made Riley relent. And in truth, she was starting to feel a little guilty about what a poor excuse of a girlfriend she had been the past few months. She was the Job, and she didn’t know why Amber continued to put up with all the excuses. Her prowess in the bedroom could only get her so far in a relationship.

  Amber grabbed Riley’s forearm.

  “What?”

  “Babe. You don’t park this kind of car. You have it valeted.”

  “Oh. Right.” Riley turned the wheel in the other direction and pulled up to the front of the restaurant instead of the self-park lot.

  Riley’s palm was firmly against the small of Amber’s back as they walked up to the hostess table. Moments later they were seated at an intimate table for two, shrouded in darkness. The candlelight was a nice touch. Riley had to remind herself sometimes in these kinds of scenarios that she was awake and not in someone’s dreams.

  “This is nice.” Amber looked around the subdued restaurant with wide eyes that didn’t want to miss anything.

  Riley studied the simple paper menu and tried not t
o swallow her tongue when she saw the prices. She only looked up when the serene atmosphere was disrupted by the entrance of a large party of attractive men and women.

  “Do you think they’re famous or something?” Amber wondered aloud, clearly awestruck by her surroundings.

  “No. Not celebrities,” Riley mumbled when she recognized two of the men—Kenner Dunbar and Darren Clay. She looked for Kenner’s younger brother, Liam, but didn’t see him. Her frown deepened when she realized they were walking directly towards her.

  “Well, well. If it isn’t Riley Carter: Trusics, Inc., extraordinaire.” Kenner Dunbar smoothed his hands over his heavily gelled hair. His suit was immaculately tailored, fitted to a trim, yet muscular build. But the massive watch that hung on his right wrist was merely that, a watch and nothing more. “Have you changed your mind on wanting to join our firm?”

  Riley produced a tight smile. “No, Kenner. I’ve told you many times, I’m happy right where I am.”

  “Shit.” Darren said the word under his breath. “I’ll be right back, I forgot my portfolio in the back of the cab.” He ducked his head in apology before he jogged his way back outside.

  “That’s some nasty business with those rumors,” the president of the rival company mused aloud. “Your board can’t be too pleased about that.”

  “We’ll weather the storm,” Riley muttered in defense. “We always do.”

  “Indeed.” Kenner flashed a brilliant smile, and his eyes moved to focus on the person across from her. “Who’s your friend?”

  Riley would rather not have had to introduce her partner to him, but she didn’t want to insult Amber. “This is my girlfriend, Amber.”

  “Girlfriend? How charming.” Kenner offered her a hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amber. But I must say, you do look familiar.”

  Amber looked flustered under his gaze. “I think I’ve seen you a few times at—”

  “The café,” Kenner cut in. “That’s right.”

  “Ken, we should get back to our table,” Darren chimed in, giving Riley a sympathetic smile. “We have business to attend to.”

  Kenner turned his attention towards his business partner. “I suppose you’re right.” His gaze dropped to the leather portfolio Darren had in his hands. “I assume you were able to retrieve everything.”

  Darren nodded and seemed to clutch the binder tighter. “Henry was standing right outside with it.”

  Kenner grinned. “A cab driver doesn’t get that popular without knowing how to treat his customers.” He readjusted his tie before bidding Riley and Amber farewell. “Have a pleasant evening, ladies.”

  Darren quirked a small smile and followed Kenner’s departure to where their party was seated on the opposite side of the restaurant.

  Amber leaned forward, her stare darting in the direction the men had gone. “How do you know them?” she quietly questioned.

  Riley retrieved her menu and continued to debate what to order. “They’re in charge of Clay & Dunbar Financial—the company’s named after them, in fact. They’re the Clay and the Dunbar.”

  Amber once again looked overwhelmed by the situation. “And they’ve been headhunting you?”

  Riley nodded and took a sip of water infused with cucumber. “But I’d never leave Trusics. Especially not for their company.”

  Amber stared thoughtfully in the direction of the large, rambunctious party that seemed to have drawn the attention of nearly everyone in the high-end restaurant.

  Riley crisply set down her menu on the table. “So,” she said brightly, hoping to shed the awkwardness of running into Kenner and Darren, “what looks good?”

  Dinner turned into a shared dessert and strong cups of espresso. Riley took an experimental sip. “Better than at the café,” she teased, dark eyes flashing.

  “That’s not fair,” Amber pouted. “I’m sure they get their beans flown in from some exotic place. Our regular stuff probably fell off the back of a truck.”

  Riley laughed, thoroughly enjoying herself.

  “Where have you had the best coffee?” Amber asked.

  “Barcelona.” The city’s name slipped out.

  Amber’s eyes widened at the revelation. “You’ve been to Europe?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Riley cleared her throat at the slip up. “I was there for a semester abroad when I was in college.” The lie was too easy. She had always been careful about the bits of personal information she shared with others and the mention of her time in Europe was unintentional.

  “Do you speak Spanish?”

  “No.” She did. She spoke several languages. “I used a lot of hand gestures and fumbled my way across the continent. But how about yourself? Any secret languages you’ve been keeping from me? ”

  “If you want to count Spanish slang learned from our kitchen staff,” Amber said. A shy smirk settled on her pink-painted lips. “Then I guess I know Spanish very well.”

  “I think you’d be able to make your way around with what you know.”

  “Maybe. You know, I’m a little jealous that you’ve been to Barcelona,” Amber noted wistfully. She fiddled with an extra spoon that had not yet been cleared from their table.

  “Then you should go.”

  “Ha.” Amber laughed without amusement. “You’ve seen where I live and know the kind of money I make waitressing. A trip like that would be way too many paychecks and a year of a noodle-only diet.”

  “But would you like to go?”

  Amber’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. You’re not asking me to go with you, are you?”

  Riley shrugged. She didn’t know what she was asking, really. But now that they’d started down this road, she couldn’t think of a nicer way to spend Trusics’s money. “Think of it as something we could work towards, together.”

  • • •

  The Jaguar’s engine purred as they idled in Amber’s driveway after dinner. The sun had set, and the night sky was populated with a few stars, visible despite the light pollution of the city.

  “Dinner was amazing tonight,” Amber said softly, fiddling with the strap of her seat belt. “Thank you. No one’s treated me to something like that in … forever.”

  Amber’s admission brought a small smile to Riley’s face. “You’re very welcome.”

  Amber reached across the center console and touched Riley’s cheek. “Riley.” Her features grew somber. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  Riley tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. “Thank you.”

  Thank you? Thank you? Riley’s brain screamed at her stupidity. If Amber had taken offense to her choice of words she didn’t show it.

  “Stay tonight.” It wasn’t a request.

  Riley’s gaze left the intensity of her girlfriend’s face and returned to the face of her wristwatch. The possibility of a promotion loomed over her like an omnipresent cloud. If she became a paper pusher, a manager, she’d never have to worry about meeting quotas. She could access the realm at her leisure. The days of running off in the middle of the night and cutting date nights short would be over. She could have as normal of a life with Amber as she could ever hope for. But a pair of hazel-green eyes beckoned to her elsewhere. If she became a manager, she’d be giving up her current marks: Pencil Skirt, Cuffs ‘n’ Rough, Miss Perfect, Knottie, Un-Adventure Time, Morgan …

  Riley licked at her bottom lip and turned the engine off.

  • • •

  It wasn’t until the early morning that Riley dragged herself into the comforts of her own home. It had been a long day, and the emptiness of her apartment was a blessing. She poured herself a glass of water, grabbed her phone, and flopped down onto the couch.

  She needed to talk, despite the hour. Riley chanced a call to one of the few numbers she knew by heart.

  Heather answered the phone after four rings. “You’d better be dying or in jail,” she growled, sounding sleep deprived.

  “She said she loves me,” Riley blurted out without so much as a
hello.

  “Who? That psycho barista who crushed on you last year?”

  She frowned at the unpleasant reminder. “No. Amber.”

  “Oh.” Heather yawned loudly. “Good on you, Riles.”

  “All I could say was ‘thank you.’”

  “Real smooth.” Heather chuckled and sounded more awake. “Didn’t you get the highest marks in Seduction Studies back in the day? Want me to sign you up for a refresher course?”

  Riley scowled; talking to Heather was a regrettable decision at times. She wanted to tear at her hair or throw her phone across the room. She was angry with herself and frustrated with the situation. Hearing those words were exactly what she needed to hear Amber say, but when it finally happened, her mind had gone blank. Her stomach hadn’t filled with butterflies and she hadn’t had an overwhelming need to grab her girlfriend by the face and bruise their lips together. She had heard the magical words and all she could muster was a polite response.

  “You’re not helping.” Riley curled into a ball on the firm couch. “I don’t even know why we’re friends.”

  “No need to get so riled up, Riles.” Heather snorted. “You have to admit it’s kind of funny.”

  Riley didn’t respond. Instead, she rolled her face into a throw pillow and kept it mashed against the rough fabric.

  “Riles? Riley?” Heather spoke when she heard no response. “Rillea, if you’re crying I swear I will drive over there this very minute.”

  “No, I’m not. Go back to sleep,” Riley whispered. “Night, H.” She ended the call before Heather could say anything else. Not wanting a headache from sleeping with her head bent the wrong way, she dragged herself to bed.

  When Riley woke a few hours later, she felt a warm body pressed against her and found a piece of paper taped to her forehead. It was a traffic ticket with a sticky note attached to it with Heather’s careful handwriting: You owe me a ridiculously priced dinner.

  Riley’s gaze turned to the woman beside her. In the short time she’d been asleep, Heather had managed to drive over to make sure she was okay. Her eyes glossed over the outfit that her bedmate was wearing. It was a silk robe that didn’t leave much to the imagination—an item from Heather’s personal wardrobe and not her own. Riley bit back her laughter at the thought of an irritated Heather being pulled over while wearing intimate clothing in the early morning hours. She mused over the different scenarios. The ill-tempered woman must have insulted the officer if she couldn’t get herself off the hook wearing that.