Protecting Her Heart

by Chance Carter

  Chapter 5

  After Trish gets Brad set up with a flute of champagne and a comfy spot to sit, she leaves the bar area to seek out the dance instructor. During intermission, audience members are not allowed into the back, but Trish knows how to work the connections. After all, Brad is the one funding the whole production.

  Trish approaches the front-of-house manager and says who she is, and that it is urgent she speak with the dance instructor because Brad Halliwell has some important concerns about the show.

  The front-of-house manager looks shocked and deeply concerned, and immediately takes Trish to the back room.

  “There she is, madam,” pointing to the instructor. “Just give me a moment to explain this to her.”

  Trish nods and looks around the dressing room. She can see all the girls getting changed into their second act outfits. There are bouquets of flowers at each dancer’s changing station, except at Jane’s. Trish looks over and tries to assess who this girl is. She seems lonely and isn’t getting along with the other girls. Why hasn’t anyone given her flowers?

  Trish maneuvers to go and chat with Jane.

  “Hey there, my name is Trish Munroe of Halliwell Corporation,” she introduces herself, stretching out her arm to shake the girl’s hand.

  Jane looks at it, then looks around, wondering if one of the girls has set her up again. She tentatively reaches out to shake Trish’s hand.

  “I’m Jane. Jane Bryden.”

  “I’ve never seen you dance here before,” commented Trish. “You really have a way of moving, so delicately, like you’re on a cloud.”

  Trish knows how to butter people up and to get Brad what he wants.

  “Oh yeah, it’s my first time. I just moved to New York a year ago and started school here,” shares Jane.

  She has not yet learned that you should never let strangers in on your personal business.

  “If you don’t mind, I have to get changed before second act,” Jane says.

  “Of course. Would it be okay if I asked you a few questions while you’re getting ready?” Trish asks boldly.

  “Well, I guess so,” replies Jane, feeling a bit perplexed about why this woman wants to speak with her.

  At that moment, the dance instructor walks over to Trish, reaching out her hand to greet her.

  “Hi, my name is Martha Donaldson, the dance instructor. I believe you wanted to see me?”

  “Oh yes, I’m Trish Munroe of the Halliwell Corporation. I was just going to ask if I could have a quick chat with Ms. Jane here, at Mr. Brad Halliwell’s request.”

  Jane is shocked and surprised at the same time. Brad Halliwell, the one who is funding the production, sent this woman to see her? But what for? Now Jane is nervous and self-conscious.

  “Oh. Well, of course, Ms. Munroe, I suppose that would be fine. But the girls have to be on stage in 10 minutes.”

  “Why, yes, of course. Thank you, Ms. Donaldson. We greatly appreciate your flexibility,” replies Trish graciously.

  “So, I’m going to cut to the chase with you, Jane, seeing as we don’t have much time. Brad saw you dancing up there and is quite impressed. He wants me to ask you a few things, just to get to know where you are in your career. Would that be okay for you?”

  Jane is shocked but also flattered at the same time.

  “He really likes my dancing?” asks Jane, flabbergasted anyone would have taken notice of her.

  “Oh, yes, dear, more than you know.” Trish winks. “So, tell me, how are you liking New York so far?

  “Honestly? It’s been tough.”

  “Really? What is the problem, dear?”

  Unable to think of a quick response that doesn’t make her sound like an idiot, Jane goes with the truth.

  “It’s lonely, I’m flat broke and I can’t seem to make any friends here. I’m really thinking about going back to Utah. At least I have family there.”

  “Oh no, dear, that would be a shame! You have such budding talent, Jane,” encourages Trish.

  “Really? You think so?” asks Jane.

  “Sweetie, I’ve seen it all in this place. I’ve watched girls come and go for quite a while now. You got talent and you gotta use it,” Trish said, cheering her on. “So where can we find you after the show? Is there a place you ladies hangout these days?”

  “Well, I usually go home right after. I don’t really like the rest of the girls too much,” Jane said, feeling ashamed.

  “What? No boyfriend to go home to?” asked Trish.

  “Ha! I wish! Not in this lifetime,” quipped Jane. “But if I were to go out with the ladies tonight, the spot would probably be The Virgin Cocktail on Main and 5th.”

  “Oh yes, I know it. Pretty swanky joint,” said Trish, with heavy sarcasm. “Look, I gotta go and you have to get on stage. Hopefully we’ll chat later. Now go out there and break a leg!” she says.

  “Uh, yeah, sure,” replied Jane, unsure of why this woman and her boss would ever want to chat with her.

  What a weird night, Jane thinks to herself. She looks up and sees that someone, probably Valerie, posted a picture of a naked firefighter on the inside of her locker and wrote ‘Jane’s dreamboat’ on it.

  Jane looks at it and does notice that his bulge is quite big, and the ripped muscles, especially around his groin, look delicious. She is starting to develop a bit of an appetite for men these days, despite all the teasing. Maybe I’ll try something a little bit wild tonight, she fantasizes.

  “Come on girls, line up in a row! Get those pretty, peacock costumes together and shake some tail for the crowd. They are loving you,” Martha claps and orders.

  Trish is back in her seat next to Brad and whispers to him, “Her name is Jane. She’s from Utah. She’s flat broke. Doesn’t believe in herself. Desperately lonely. It’s possible she’ll be at The Virgin Cocktail tonight. Go get ‘er, Tiger.”

  Chapter 6

  The second act turns out okay. Jane isn’t too pleased with her performance. She missed a few steps and couldn’t really get back into sync with the rest of the dancers. Her mind had been distracted by the odd visit in the change room. She felt nervous knowing she was being watched.

  Afterward in the change room, Martha, the dance instructor, goes up to Jane and asks her what the hell was going on and why was she all over the place on stage. Jane cries openly, saying she just wanted to give up, that life is too hard and she probably shouldn’t even bother being a ballerina.

  Martha puts her arm around her and tries to comfort her without making it look like she is favoring Jane.

  “Sweetheart, the funder, Brad, clearly sees your talent. Maybe that’s what threw you off. Tomorrow’s another day, and the Universe has a funny way of turning things around. Never mind, and we’ll talk about it another time, okay?” Martha reassures her.

  Jane sniffles and appreciates Martha’s patience with her.

  One of the other dancers, Liz, comes up to Jane and invites her out to The Virgin Cocktail for drinks. At this point, Jane feels like she has nothing to lose.

  “Yeah, sure, thanks for the invite,” replies Jane.

  “Maybe we’ll find you some hunka-hunka of a guy,” says Liz, winking at Jane as if to tell her to lighten up about all the teasing.

  “Wouldn’t that be a treat,” Jane replies and smiles.

  All the dance troupe members head out to the bar, and order shooters all around. Jane can’t stomach them, so she goes for Piña Coladas instead. They taste so sweet and remind her of anywhere but the big city. God, what she would do to go somewhere tropical and get away from it all.

  After about four cocktails, Jane feels the room spin and she looks around to see if there is anyone she can talk to. She’s bored of the dancers and their whole scene. She wants someone who will actually stimulate her.

  At the end of the bar is a man nursing a beer and he seems to be staring at Jane. Jane feels a bit nervous and looks around in disbelief that someone would be gazing at her.

  He is wearing
a black suit, his silver tie loosened up, and his hair shaggy in that cool sort of way. He looks about 10 or 15 years older than the rest of the crowd, and Jane wonders why he’d be at a dive like this.

  He continues staring at Jane and moves his head to show he’s watching her. Jane, assumes it must be someone else he’s wanting to catch eyes with. She looks around, but no one is behind her. She points to herself as if to say me? He nods, motioning for her to come over to him.

  Jane, feeling aroused and curious with her normal guard down and loosened by the alcohol, teeters off her bar stool, pulling her dress down so it’s not sticking to her panties. She slowly makes her way over to him, walking unsteadily on her heels. Her knees are shaking with nervousness and excitement. She tries to find a flirty but graceful way of introducing herself like they do in the movies. She’s never done something like this before, but already loves how it feels to be someone else for a night, instead of the ‘good girl’ that everyone expects her to be.

  He pats the stool next to him, indicating that she should sit down. She regards his body, imagining strong arms through his dark suit, his broad shoulders suggestive of a man in charge. He’s clearly a man who knows how to take care of things, a man who gets whatever he wants.

  “Do you always tell people what to do?” Jane asked, surprised she’d come up with such a bold quip. Sitting down next to him, her skirt hikes up her thighs and close to her panties by mistake.

  He reaches over, touches her thigh, and lightly rubs it. Jane is shocked and turned on all at the same time She wonders if she should slap him or let him take that hand further up to meet her trembling pussy.

  He gently pulls her skirt down toward her knees, while his fingers graze over her skin and return back to his cold beer.

  For a moment, she misses his warm hand on her fragile body. She wants to take that hand and have him rub her breasts through the white cotton shirt she is wearing, letting the nipples go hard and perk up so everyone will know she, too, is a wild woman who isn’t afraid of a man touching her in public. She wants to show those other girls that she’s not as much of a prude as they think she is.

  “Do you always show off your panties in public?” he whispers in her ear.

  His warm breath makes her close her eyes and pause for a moment. Oh my God, he feels so good next to me, Jane is thinking.

  She opens her eyes and smiles demurely, as if she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. She wants to say only for you, but she knows that would be far too provocative, and she’s not sure if she wants to lead him on. The reality is that she wouldn’t even know what to do with him if he were to take her home.

  He leans over and kisses her on the cheek, and she reacts with a nervous giggle.

  “Do you like that?” he asks, knowing the answer, given the way she’s blushing.

  He moves toward her and kisses her with his thick, warm, wet lips. Then he uses his tongue to moisten her thin, pink lips, moving her mouth open and holding her head back. She surrenders to him, and he shows her exactly what he wants, while making her feel secure. It is as if everyone else in the room disappears, and only the two of them remain.

  Overhearing Valerie’s laugh in the background, Jane stops kissing him immediately, terrified that Valerie is watching her. She looks up and around the bar, and thankfully, finds Valerie in the middle of a crowd of guys, faking a strip tease. She is too busy to notice what Jane is doing.

  Jane pushes herself up off the bar stool and looks away from Brad in embarrassment.

  “I gotta go,” she says, walking away as fast as possible, grabbing her purse from the other stool.

  “But…” Brad starts.

  He doesn’t get a chance to introduce himself or get her number.

  “Damn it,” he mutters. “Another beer, please, bartender.”

  Chapter 7

  “Ugghhhh,” Jane groans as she turns off the alarm. Her body feels like it’s spinning around the room. She reaches for her headache medication, but has no water to wash it down.

  She rolls out of bed, still wearing her skirt and top from the night before, and makes her way to the kitchen. She bends over, feeling horrible at the thought of how much she drank and embarrassed that she kissed a random stranger, one who had to be at least ten years her senior. She looks in the mirror and finds she has lipstick smeared across her face. She can’t believe she let herself get so drunk.

  There’s a knock at the door.

  Oh, damn it, it’s the landlord, Jane assumes, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

  A knock again.

  “Ms. Bryden, are you there?”

  It’s a man’s voice, but not the landlord’s. He knocks again.

  Jane walks over to the door as quickly as she can without puking. She looks through the peep hole and sees a man who is about six feet tall with dark hair and wearing a pinstripe suit. His face looks friendly enough.

  “Ms. Bryden, I’d like to speak with you. It’s about the gentleman you met last night.”

  Jane flushes with embarrassment and flattery at the same time.

  “Oh,” replies Jane through the closed door.,“What is it?”

  “Would you mind opening the door? I have a proposal to make to you.”

  She unlatches the door and opens it. The man notices that her hair is disheveled and that her tits are showing through her white blouse. Her skirt is half falling off of her, revealing her belly button. He wishes he could invite himself in, grab her beautiful waist, kiss her belly and throw her on the couch. He wants to rub his body all over her, but he knows better. He works for Brad Halliwell, and Brad has his eyes on this pretty, young thing.

  He clears his throat.

  “Um, sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but I have an urgent message for you.”

  Jane feels mildly confused, but wants the man to tell her whatever he needs to say so she can go back to bed.

  “The gentleman you, uh, met last night at the bar, his name is Brad Halliwell, and he funded the ballet production you were in.”

  Oh God, Jane thinks to herself, I really blew it this time.

  “Well, he has asked me to offer you a proposal of sorts. He sees your potential as a ballerina and wonders if you would go away with him for a week to his private island. He was quite captivated by you.”

  “Well, that’s a lovely offer,” says Jane, sarcastically. “But I’ve got bills to pay, and I just can’t take a week off.”

  “Yes, he understands that completely. That’s why he is prepared to offer you one million dollars, so you have peace of mind and don’t have to worry about a thing. He’s already spoken with your dance instructor, letting her know that you might be away with him.”

  Jane is dumbfounded. She’s never had that much cash offered to her before.

  “One million dollars, really? What’s the catch?”

  “Not much of one. He just requests you wear this piece of lingerie and the dress in this box and meet him at his private jet in Syracuse at three p.m. tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I get it. I have to have sex with him. He wants me as his hooker. Well, you can tell your Mr. Brad Halliwell that even though I’m broke as hell, I’m not that kind of gal. I’m sure he can find someone else who will make him happy.”

  Jane is proud of standing up for herself, even though all she wants to do is run to the bathroom and puke her guts out.

  “Well, ma’am, that’s the thing. Mr. Halliwell is a decent enough man to say there is no such requirement. You don’t have to have sex with him…unless you want to. He will respect your choice either way, and you still get the million dollars at the end of it. He just asks that you follow his instructions knowing there is no pressure or expectation on his part. What do you say?”

  Jane is blown away and doesn’t really know what to say. She remembers how he made her feel last night and how she was ready to give all of her body to him in that brief moment. She isn’t sure if she can trust herself or not, wondering if the piña coladas made her lose her
senses.

  Why would she pass up the chance to make a million dollars with a wealthy man wanting to take her to a private island? Without having to do anything but wear a specific outfit?

  “Can I think about it?” Jane asks the man.

  “Well, not really. Mr. Halliwell needs to know now, and would just ask you to sign this contract to confirm the details so we can book the jet.”

  “Well, fine, what’s there to lose,” replies Jane flippantly, just wanting this man to go away so she can go back to bed.

  She takes the box that has the dress and lingerie she’s supposed to wear and closes the door before the man has a chance to say goodbye. She tosses it on the couch and crawls back to bed, popping another pill.

  “Oh God, I think I’m losing my mind,” she says to herself, and immediately doses off to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  The next day, Jane wakes feeling refreshed. She has a healthy breakfast, downs a glass of fresh juice, and turns on the tunes. The song I Can See Clearly Now is on and Jane sings out loud.

  “It’s gonna be a bright, bright, bright sunshine-y day.”

  She feels happy and light-hearted, something she hasn’t felt in ages.

  She goes to her bedroom and opens the box. Laying out the dress on the bed, she finds it to be a beautiful, form-fitting, satin dress that is full length and champagne-colored.

  “Oh, wow!” Jane’s breath is taken away. “It’s stunning,” she says out loud. She wonders if she will fit into it and whether it will look good on her. It seems like it should be for a woman who looks more like a runway model in En Vogue magazine, not for someone like her.

  She goes over to the mirror, and puts the dress up to her body. It looks like a perfect fit, she sees in disbelief. How did he know? She twirls around with the bottom of the dress floating around her ankles. She likes how it feels against her skin.

  She unwraps the other package, the one with the lingerie in it. She unfolds a bra and panty set, also satin, champagne with a rose-colored lace trim along the edges. She pulls the panties up and caresses her breasts into the bra, pushing her cleavage up.