Vivian, Midnight Call Girl (Iron Orchids Book 6)

by Danielle Norman

  “What did you do?” Leo asked.

  “I grabbed my two dates and headed to my room.” I stopped talking when my phone started ringing with Erin’s ringtone. “Where’s my purse?”

  “Right here,” Stella said, leaning forward and grabbing my phone from the top of the bag. She answered it and pressed speaker. “Yo, bitch, haven’t seen you in fo-ev-ah.”

  “Excuse me?” A very male voice came over the line.

  I snagged the phone from her. “Hello? Who’s this?”

  He chuckled. “Vivian, I assume, how’s the hangover?”

  “Huh? It’s fine. Who are you, and why are you calling from Erin’s number?”

  “As I told you last night, my name is Aaron, but I don’t know your sister-in-law Eh-rin”—he emphasized the pronunciation of the beginning of Erin’s name—“I’m Air-on.” I glanced up at the group, who were all giggling and wearing shit-eating grins. Great, more people who I will have to kill for witnessing my humiliation. “Truthfully though, I just called to check on you. You were quite a mess last night, I hated hanging up. You were cute in an Isla-Fisher, Wedding-Crashers kind of way.” Several of the girls busted out laughing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for others to overhear.”

  “It isn’t your fault. It’s mine for allowing it to be on speakerphone and theirs for not allowing it to be any other way. Thank you for checking on me, I appreciate it. As you can tell, I’m good, being suffocated . . .” I paused and winked at the girls, so they knew that I was totally joking. “I’m so sorry for drunk dialing and pulling you into the madness. I must have entered my sister-in-law’s new number wrong. I’ll fix it. Sorry again.”

  “No worries, it was nice talking to you for four hours. I’ll let you go since you’re with friends. Have fun, we’ll talk soon.” He disconnected before I had a chance to say no need.

  “Ooohh, what happened?” Ariel leaned in and asked, her Southern accent thick.

  “Talk again?” Leo said as she poked me in the arm.

  “No clue, don’t remember it at all.” I opened my contacts in my phone and searched for Erin’s name. Then I groaned because I had two numbers listed for her. “Oh shit, whoever that was must have her old Florida number. I never deleted it when she moved to New York.” I deleted the old number so I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “Give me that.” Stella snatched the phone and typed before handing it back. “I saved Aaron’s number in there so you won’t forget it as well. Besides, if he has her old number, it means he lives here. You never know when you might need another drunk dial.”

  “Kill me now, what if I run into this person or he tells people that I’m a nut job?”

  “Did you two exchange photos?” Sophie raised one brow and stared at me with her best mom-inquisition look.

  “No.” I shook my head for emphasis.

  “Did you tell him your full name so he could actually tell people that you are a nut job?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then stop with the drama and just enjoy.” She shrugged and held her hands out, waiting for me to say she was right, but I wasn’t giving anyone that credit. Instead, I kissed her cheek.

  Aaron

  We were playing the Bulls, and as usual we arrived early for conditioning but first, we had the concrete catwalk. I glanced around at teammates who were busy trying to fix their laces, smooth out their jeans, and make sure their collar was flat. I was too busy thinking about Vivian to bother.

  Exiting the bus, bursts of light flashed as reporters squeezed up to the roped off area to get a shot of who was wearing what. These pictures would go into a file to be used whenever they needed to gossip about us.

  As we wound our way inside, I headed to the most remote spot I could find in the United Center and pulled out my phone so I could call her.

  I waited as it rang and rang, then her voicemail picked up. “This is, Viv, take me off your calling list. No I’m not interested, but if we really are friends, then you may leave me a message.”

  “Hey, Viv, it’s Aaron. I was just calling to say hi. I’ll try you again later.”

  I hung up and headed to the visiting team locker room. As soon as I entered, I was assaulted.

  “Aaron, Mike Carpenter with AFN Sports, how do you feel going against Zach LaVine again? Last time, he powered through and made the winning shot.”

  I smeared on a forced smile. “Thanks for asking, Mike, I feel great. Coach has been working us harder than ever, and I feel that it has really paid off. We’re strong as a team.” I took one step forward to let him know questions were over.

  “Thanks, Aaron,” Mike called after me as I rounded the corner to our lockers and changing area.

  “Aaron, plans tonight?” Gage, one of my best friends, asked. He was our team’s shooting guard and a lot more levelheaded than a lot of the others. “LeeAnn keeps bugging me to get you to come out with us.”

  “Thanks, but I thought you and LeeAnn were having some romantic shit tonight. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be heading to my room and catching up on sleep.”

  “No date night, we have both the kids with us, so if you change your mind, just holler.”

  “Will do, thanks.” I had totally different plans: I wanted to try to call my midnight caller, she was funny. I opened my locker door and pulled out shorts and a shirt from my duffle bag.

  The score was sixty-two to sixty-six, and the Bulls were winning. Dominic recovered the rebound, passed it to Gage, who passed to LeShawn, who shot from the three-point line and scored.

  Two down with seven seconds on the clock.

  It was their ball, but Dominic stole it from their point guard, brought it over half court and then spun right before crossing over and passing it hard toward where I was supposed to be. I was running, breaking free of my guard and reaching the ball with two seconds left on the clock.

  The buzzer blared a second after the ball lost contact with my fingertips, and it was as if time froze, no one moved. A trail of sweat ran into my eyes, but I didn’t blink, there was no way in hell I’d miss this moment. Then the ball hit the board, bounced back to the rim of the net, and rolled along the edge, teasing me, that motherfucker, as I held my breath watching it. When it wobbled, I inwardly prayed until it rolled over and into the basket.

  The team and Lightning fans in the stadium went wild; although, we were silenced out by the overpowering disappointment of the home team fans. I totally understood that, but I was on cloud nine, we had beaten the Bulls.

  “Holy shit, Skkye, that was fucking unbelievable,” Gage hollered.

  “Aaron.”

  “Aaron.”

  Reporters vied to push forward and be the one to get my first quote. I finally stopped once my heart and breathing had slowed a fraction.

  “Aaron, Sylvia Summers with NBA TV, you looked a little shocked when Dominic threw the ball to you, any comments?”

  “I have to give high praise to Dom for that play, I heard the coach shouting for him to pass it to Casimir, so when it came my way instead, I did what I love to do, I caught the ball and shot.”

  “Any clue as to why Dominic Flanders passed to you instead of Casimir?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” I smiled and then moved in an attempt to get closer to the tunnel.

  “Aaron, Mike Overbrook with Beckett Basketball, your contract is coming up for renegotiation, any truth to the rumors that you are looking at the Lakers?”

  I paused, totally taken aback. “Sorry, I can’t keep up with the rumors, but I assure you that I’m not leaving. My contract still is solid and so is my commitment to the Lightning.” He looked like he was going to ask me something else, but I moved swiftly through the crowd until I was at my locker.

  By the time I settled into my seat on the plane that would bring us to the next city we were playing in, it was almost eleven. Too late to call, so I sent a text.

  Me: Hey, it’s Aaron with an A, lol. I wanted to make sure you’re still alive. Hopefu
lly you got some aspirin and tons of water into you.

  I was stunned when the tiny speech bubble appeared followed by her reply moments later.

  Vivian: I wish I were sleeping. I am actually at work.

  Me: Still? What kind of work do you do?

  Vivian: I own a bar, which is probably the best job ever.

  Me: Sounds like a dream job, but if you’re the boss, don’t you have people to stay late so you don’t have to?

  Vivian: I usually do, but she called in sick at the last minute, so it’s just me.

  Me: You don’t have security there with you?

  Vivian: Nope. There really isn’t any need for it because of where I’m located.

  Me: What’s the name of it?

  “Great shot, Aaron,” Casimir said as he passed and patted me on the back.

  I nodded and returned to my text.

  Vivian: I doubt you’ve eaten here or heard of it.

  Me: And why would you say that?

  Vivian: My place isn’t close to the typical hangouts. Since you have my sister-in-law’s old number, I’m guessing you haven’t been in the area long, so the odds are in my favor that you’ve never been here.

  Me: Is that your sly way of asking me how long I’ve lived in Orlando?

  Vivian: Ha! You caught me.

  Me: I’ve been there about a year and a half. But I just got this number. How about you, you still in Orlando?

  Vivian: Yep, grew up not too far from here and have no interest in leaving. I’m wrapping things up here.

  Me: Say no more. I’ll let you get closed up and get home. Can I call you tomorrow?

  A speech bubble appeared but a new text didn’t come through. She was either typing the next Great American Novel or was she second-guessing what she wanted to say. My money was on the latter, but I didn’t want her to second guess, I wanted her to jump, follow this crazy urge. Then the words appeared.

  Vivian: Okay

  Vivian: But not before ten

  I chuckled.

  Me: Deal.

  The next morning, I watched last night’s game reels, but at quarter after ten, I reached for my phone.

  She answered with a groggy, “Hello?”

  “Shit, did I wake you?” I asked.

  “No, I just haven’t had my coffee yet. Hold on, I need to add some sugar and then take a long sip.” The sound of a metal spoon hitting the sides of ceramic mug was the only sound I heard, then silence followed by, “Okay, now we can talk. Rule number one is never talk to me before coffee.”

  “I thought that was rule number two; rule number one was never call you before ten.”

  Vivian chuckled. “Good memory, and who says men can’t be taught?”

  “I’m keeping notes or I’ll forget. Anyway, sorry about interrupting you with your friends the other day, was just calling to check on you. You were really hammered that night.”

  “Don’t worry about it, it gave them fodder. We’re always razzing on someone, might as well have been me that day.”

  “At least it sounded like you were having fun.”

  “We were. So, what all did you learn about me the other night, was I a leaky faucet?”

  My smile got wider. “No, you were fine. But I know that you were trying to call your former sister-in-law. You hate that she moved away. You never talk anymore since Eric passed. I’m sorry by the way, I know it must be hard.”

  “You have no idea,” Vivian whispered, and I ached for her. I knew loss but in a totally different way. My loss was by choice.

  “You told me about the wedding you had just been to.”

  “See, you actually know quite a bit about me, tell me about you.” I could imagine Vivian tucking her dark hair behind one ear. Hell, for all I knew, she could be a blonde or a redhead, but for some reason, neither of those felt right.

  “I’m sort of boring. Work consumes a lot of my time.”

  “What do you do?”

  I could just tell her who I was, but I didn’t want her to see me as a walking, talking wallet. “I work for Romero Holdings.”

  “Oh, I’ve never heard of them.”

  Not a shocker there.

  “They own a lot of businesses.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Well, they are mainly an investment company, and the owner, Carmen Romero, runs a bunch of large and small franchises. I’m one of many who help keep it all running.” A roil in my stomach let me know that I was crossing the line to dishonesty. I was misleading her, and that wasn’t fair. But my brain kept saying, give it a little longer.

  “How about family? Any siblings?” Vivian’s voice softened, as if she were relaxing into the conversation.

  “I’m an only child, parents are gone.” Well, sort of gone, but that was a story for another time. “How about you, family close?”

  “Parents are both gone, but I’m close to my friends.” We were both silent for several seconds. “So, if you don’t mind, can I ask how old you are?”

  “Sure, I’m twenty-four.” The sound of Vivian coughing echoed across the line. “Are you okay? Is something wrong with my age?”

  “Nope, you’re fine. Twenty-four is a great year for you, for scotch, but for me that was eight years ago.”

  “So? You’re thirty-two. I bet you’re a sexy thirty-two-year-old.”

  “Umm, no. I’m a tired, been-through-more-than-anyone-should-have, working nonstop thirty-two-year-old.”

  “Nah, I’m thinking that I have a hot cougar on the line.”

  “No. Not quite but close. Hey, we are just talking on the phone after a drunk dial, we might be friends, and that’s a big might, but we’re still pretty much strangers.”

  “We can change that, want to FaceTime?” I asked, knowing that was a huge jump that I hadn’t really considered the ramifications of. What if she recognized me?

  “Absolutely not. I’m not ready for that.”

  “Okay, calm down, I didn’t mean to worry you, it was really more of a joke. Let’s spend more time talking and texting, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Vivian?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like to be friends, let’s build that first, okay?”

  “I’d like that.” The sigh of relief that escaped her mouth assured me I had just done the right thing.

  Vivian

  Day Seven . . .

  Vivian: Hey

  Aaron: Hey to you.

  Vivian: Did I catch you at a bad time?

  Aaron: It’s never a bad time for you to text. How was work? Just get home?

  Vivian: Yep, just got home. Work was work, always the same, which is what I like. I’m a creature of habit. I don’t know if I told you, I call it a bar but we also serve food so I guess it is more of a grille.

  Aaron: What’s the name again?

  Vivian: Ha ha, haven’t told you yet.

  Day Ten . . .

  Aaron: Heading to the airport, I’m exhausted. Can’t believe we stayed up until three this morning talking.

  Vivian: I can’t believe it’s already noon.

  Aaron: Tell me something about yourself that others don’t know.

  Vivian: Okay, but you will have to do the same.

  Aaron: Absolutely.

  Vivian: I stole a pack of gum when I was four, and my mother made me take it back inside and apologize. I was so upset because she wouldn’t go in with me. I remember turning and glaring at her because she just stayed where she could still see and hear me and refused to give me any moral support.

  Aaron: Oh, but I bet you were so cute that the store owner just smiled and let you walk off.

  Vivian: I don’t remember what the guy at the store said, I was too busy being mad at my mom.

  Aaron: LOL

  Vivian: Okay, now you.

  Aaron: I’ve never broken a law, not even speeding.

  Vivian: WTF? Really? I’m a speed demon. Are you uptight?

  Aaron: No, my mother was in and out of jail all of my life and
I would get shoved off to foster care. In my mind, I can’t mentally let loose enough to risk getting in trouble with the law.

  Vivian: Oh, I’m so sorry, but that makes total sense. It’s okay, I speed enough for the both of us.

  Day Fourteen . . .

  Vivian: Good morning.

  Aaron: Wow, it’s before ten.

  Vivian: I have a few errands to do before work. Where are you headed today?

  Aaron: San Antonio.

  Vivian: I was just scrolling up through all of our messages, do you realize we’ve texted every day since I drunk dialed you?

  Aaron: Yeah, and we’ve also talked every day since then as well.

  Vivian: Or night, we usually talk at night.

  Aaron: I like our nightly talks. I fall asleep talking with you.

  Vivian: Literally, you’ve fallen asleep several times.

  Aaron: Sorry.

  Day Twenty-One . . .

  Aaron: I’m heading back to Orlando a week from Thursday and will be home for a while. What do you say we go out for dinner?

  Vivian: Yeah, I think that would be nice. Want to FaceTime first?

  Aaron: Yes, but I was afraid to ask.

  Vivian

  My eyes were set on the next table, cleaner in one hand, rag in the other, as I strode for it keeping my head down and making no eye contact with anyone. There was too much going on in my head, and I was an open book. If anyone saw me, they would badger the hell out of me, and I would cave, I always cave.

  FaceTime, we were going to talk face-to-face via video chat. He was twenty-four, I was a thirty-two-year-old widow, for Christ’s sake. I had been through a lot and it showed. How was I going to cover these eternal bags under my eyes that were so deep and dark, no amount of makeup would hide them?