Vivian, Midnight Call Girl (Iron Orchids Book 6)

by Danielle Norman

  “She’s just going to ignore us.”

  “Nah, she’s just in heavy thought.”

  “Nope, she is trying to avoid us and the world around her.”

  “Vivian would never ignore us.”

  “Bullshit, something is on her mind. We need to beat it out of her.”

  I burst out laughing and set the rag and cleaner down on the table, but then had to blink my eyes a few times to clear the grittiness of exhaustion. God, I hadn’t had a deep sleep in just over four years. I pasted on a smile and turned, mustering up my best Robert De Niro impersonation. “You talking to me?”

  It wasn’t all that great.

  “As a matter of fact, they were,” Leo said as she pointed over to Sophie and Stella. “Now spill, what’s going on? The two of them have been trying to get your attention, and you didn’t even notice.”

  I glanced over at my manager, Mikki, who seemed to have everything under control and then took a seat at the table.

  “It’s Aaron,” I explained.

  “Drunk dial dude?” Leo asked, and I nodded. “You two are still talking?” I nodded again. “What’s going on? It’s been almost a month, right?”

  “Three weeks.” I slid my hand across my forehead. “We text every day, talk every night. God, I really like talking to him, and he makes me laugh.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Leo asked.

  “I still feel like there’s too much I don’t know.”

  “Um, that’s what dating is for. It’s the test drive to make sure you want to actually buy it,” Stella added in.

  “But there are things that he is so vague about.”

  “Like?” Stella waited for my answer.

  “I don’t know, I can’t think right now. All we’re doing right now is taking our time and building a friendship,” I explained but left out the fact that anymore, my night felt incomplete if I didn’t hear his voice. “Oh, by the way, he’s twenty-four.”

  “So?” Bridget asked. “I’m twenty-four.”

  “Bridge, I’m thirty-two.”

  “Ah, cougar.” Bridget laughed.

  “Who cares?” Leo shrugged and a few others agreed.

  “Dude, there is actually a formula to figure out if you are a cougar or not,” Stella announced.

  “What? Where did you hear this?” Bridget asked.

  “I don’t remember, but you half the woman’s age and then add seven. That’s the max age the guy can be to make the woman a cougar.”

  “I have no clue where you come up with this shit,” Leo added.

  “She’s right, I’ve read that too somewhere. In all truthfulness, my age has never bothered me before, but then again I wasn’t comparing myself to a twenty-four-year-old.” Truthfully, thirty-two wasn’t old. My biggest fear was that Aaron and I would have nothing in common. He was probably still into partying and hooking up with random women; I was into a glass of wine and Netflix for an episode of Breaking Bad.

  “Look, we’ve lost her,” Leo whispered.

  “She’s a goner. He must have some magical phone powers,” Stella added.

  “Really? I can totally hear you all. No, I just have a lot on my mind. The whole thing is stupid. I drunk dial someone, and a little over three weeks later we are still talking. I have no clue why.” I stood up and began pacing around the table. “He’s twenty-four, holy shit, twenty-four. I mean, what kind of person does that make me?” I shoved my hands through my hair as if I could push the answers in there, but no dice. True, I was twenty-three when Eric and I finally got married, but we had been high school sweethearts. “Now he wants to see me, like see my face, and I agreed. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a good night’s sleep? These dark circles have turned into stains they have been under my eyes that long.”

  “Are you finished yet?” Leo asked. “This pity party has run its course.”

  “Yes, I’m finished.” I let out a huff.

  “What does he do?” Leo asked, trying to soothe the situation.

  “Oh, that’s it.” I snapped my fingers. “He says that he works for Romero Holdings, but I have no idea what he actually does there.”

  “Never heard of it.” Stella grabbed her drink.

  “Me neither, he said they owned lots of franchises. So really, he could do anything. I don’t even know what kind of franchises they own.”

  Sophie had her phone out while Stella leaned over and read over her shoulder. “Well, fuck a duck, they own the Orlando Lightning.”

  I stared at her for clarity, because I had no idea that a freaking basketball team was a franchise. I thought only fast food places and hotels were franchised out.

  “The Lightning, as in, our NBA team,” Leo clarified, but I was still giving her a blank look. “Woman, I have no clue how you function sometimes.” Leo smiled letting me know that she was totally teasing.

  “I knew that,” I huffed.

  “Exactly.” Stella jumped out of her seat, her hands waving in the air is if she were flicking water off them. “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. That is why you need to talk with him. Twenty-four matters only if that is his IQ.” Stella grinned.

  “Really? You want me to keep talking to him because of a basketball team?”

  She nodded.

  “Fine, I’ll talk with him, but he might not work for them. He said Romero owns several franchises.”

  “What if he’s a basketball player? Twenty-four is the right age for a player, right? Quick, is there an Aaron on the team?” Stella asked.

  “Yeah, only the best shooting guard in the NBA, Aaron Skkye,” Mikki said from behind me.

  I turned and stared at her.

  “What?” Stella asked.

  “She’s a basketball junkie, she goes to all the games she possibly can,” I explained. And with where this conversation was headed, I needed to extricate myself before they were marrying me off to some nonexistent NBA player. “Hey, been great chatting, but I have to get back to work, I still have bookwork to do.” I blew kisses to the girls and headed back to my office. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw two missed calls.

  I turned to the mirror mounted on the back of the door, cringed and then reached for my small makeup bag so I could do a quick touch up. One last pat down of my flyaway strands, followed by a quick dash of lipstick, and I was as ready as I was going to be.

  Taking a deep swallow and an even deeper breath, I dialed his number via FaceTime. He answered on the first ring, but I had my hand over the camera and screen.

  “Hello, I’m so glad to hear from you. But I can’t see anything.”

  “I’m blocking it, I can’t see you either. I didn’t want you to pick up and be shocked and have a heart attack or something.”

  “I’m young, and . . . I don’t know, um, virile. I think my heart is safe.”

  I laughed. “You’ve been warned, I’m going to remove my hand.”

  “Please.”

  I quickly slid my hand off the phone, showing myself at the same time as I saw him.

  He was adorable in a hot and sexy kind of way. He brought his other hand up to scratch his jaw, and my breath freaking caught. The man had the kind of hands a woman would want on her.

  “Holy fuck.” I slapped one hand over my mouth, shocked that I had said that out loud. Then Stella’s words came to my mind about a twenty-four-inch dick, and I had to pinch my lips tight because big hands and all that.

  Aaron’s hearty laugh bellowed through the phone. “Damn girl, I’m so glad you said that. At least I know I’m not the only one with a habit of cussing. I was trying to watch my mouth around you.”

  “You’ll be right at home around my friends.”

  He seemed to be concentrating on my picture, and in that moment, I was thankful I had fixed myself before the call. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “So, FaceTime is okay now?” I nodded. I felt like a preteen, the only thing missing was the bubble gum that I could str
etch and twirl while I stared at my shoes playing coy.

  “It’s weird; I’m not sure what to say. I feel like I know you and at the same time I’m meeting you for the first time.

  “I feel like I’ve known you forever, like we’re best friends who haven’t seen each other in years. Except for Gage—”

  “Your friend from work?”

  “Yeah, besides him, you’re the only other person I really talk to,” Aaron said.

  “I think that’s the big difference between men and women. Women have more of a gang mentality. We need a tribe around us. I can think of about twelve friends who I see almost weekly that I could call at any time to air something out with. A perfect example is you.”

  “Oh, I made the list?”

  “You did. Though, I might kick some of my other friends off the list. They’ve been giving me one hell of a hard time because it’s been three weeks and we are still talking. I mentioned you worked for Romero Holdings. They said that was the owner of the Orlando Lightning, the basketball team.”

  “Yep, that is who I work with,” Aaron confirmed, as if working with famous people was no big deal. “Look up the Lightning schedule and you will know where I’m always traveling to.”

  “Aaron, can I ask you something?”

  “Anything, but if it’s about my job, can it wait until we meet in person?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  I wish I had just asked him outright, but if he asked me to wait, I would.

  “Hey, I have to run. I have a red-eye flight tonight, and my ride leaves in fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh, okay, be safe.”

  “It was nice seeing your face, you are so beautiful. I want to see you again.”

  “I’d like that.” I disconnected and then moved the mouse on my computer and typed: “Orlando Lightning Schedule.”

  I got nothing done yesterday after talking to Aaron. If he followed the Orlando Lightning everywhere, it meant he would probably be back in Orlando sometime today.

  I got to work on placing the weekly orders, from food to alcohol and finally, supplies. I opened QuickBooks and began entering the latest receipts and balancing the records. I was lost in my routine tasks, and once they were all entered, I moved on to payroll. By the time that was done, it was almost time to do the line check before the dinner rush started.

  The chatter of voices from my dining area dimmed, and it took me a second to glance to the security camera feed on my computer to find out why. I studied the crowd, wondering what was going on. Several people were all looking toward the door. When I spotted Mikki, I got nervous because she looked like a kid at a parade and her favorite float was passing. She was jumping up and down with a ridiculous expression on her face. Panning the area, I spied a familiar face, and my heart did a quick double beat. Aaron, FaceTime, drunk dial, Aaron was here, and he had captured several people’s attention, especially Mikki’s.

  Aaron was very businesslike in a suit that was custom made for his body and hugged every inch of him. The man was meant to wear suits that was for sure.

  “Vivian, you aren’t going to believe who just freaking walked in.” Mikki barged into my office. “Aaron friggin’ Skkye, that’s who. The one I mentioned to you just the other day, the shooting guard—”

  I held up my hands to stop her. “I know who Aaron is.”

  “He won the Maurice Podoloff Trophy, which is given to the league’s most valuable player,” Mikki mumbled, trying to add something of value that I maybe didn’t know, but then she froze, her eyes blinking slowly before going wide. “Whoa, wait a minute, how do you know Aaron?”

  “Long story.”

  Aaron

  I couldn’t believe that I was nervous. I’d lucked out seeing the name Sixes Bar & Grille on a box in the background. When we hung up, I looked it up and was happy to find out it was close to the stadium. After practice, I headed here, knowing that I only had about an hour before I had to be back at the stadium for our eight o’clock game.

  I pulled open the heavy wooden door, and the sounds of laughter and people talking assailed me. Since I’d grown up in a small town in Indiana, this was the type of place I was used to going to. It was a place only the locals knew about, where people gathered just to shoot the shit and spend an evening relaxing.

  I ducked under the doorframe more out of habit than necessity. When you’re six-eight, you learn to duck after the first time you almost knock yourself out.

  When I glanced up, almost everyone was staring at me.

  “What can I get you?” Danny, according to his name tag, asked.

  “Just water. I’m looking for Vivian.”

  He fixed me a glass with ice and then added the water. “Someone has already gone to get her.”

  “How did they know I was here for her?”

  “She didn’t. But since this is mainly”—he pointed his chin to behind me—“a cop and fireman hangout, when the shooting guard for the Orlando Lightning walks in, the owner gets summoned.” He smirks and slides me my glass.

  “So, I’m assuming the whole idea of flying under the radar is shot, right?”

  “Pretty much, but don’t worry, these guys are good people. They won’t bother you.”

  I nodded my thanks, and he rapped a knuckle against the bar. “Great game the other night against the Bulls, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Vivian should be out in a second. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  The guy walked away to pour a draft for another customer, and I took a second to mentally shake off the nerves that were trying to crawl their way up my spine.

  Fuck. What was I thinking just showing up here like this? I needed to leave. My eyes tracked toward the door as I berated myself for being so stupid. I had just crossed a million and one boundaries and landed in the stalker zone. Leaving a five-dollar bill on the counter as a tip, I pushed back my stool, already having my mind set on slipping out before she even knew I was there.

  I was almost to the door when I heard her, “Going somewhere, Aaron?” I turned and met a little thing of a woman with black hair and bright green eyes.

  Two men walked up, both were wearing sheriff uniforms, one was very Mediterranean looking. Vivian turned her attention to them. “I love you, both of you. You can go home and tell your wives that this is who Vivian drunk called.”

  I listened feeling a little more relaxed realizing that they at least knew about our story.

  “You got drunk and called an NBA star?” the deputy with blond hair said. “Forget my wife, I think you need to worry more about my sister. Stella is not going to let you live this down.”

  Vivian turned back to me, “Aaron this is Deputy Carter Lang and Deputy Kayson Christakos.” She pointed to each man. “I’ve known them forever and Carter’s sister is one of my closest friends. When the guys got married their wives joined my group of close friends.”

  I shook hands with each of them.

  “Now that you all know each other, excuse us.” Vivian tugged my hand and pulled me toward the back of the bar, to what was clearly her office.

  “Mikki, good god woman,” Vivian snapped. “Will you excuse us please?”

  “But . . . but this is Aaron Skkye, he’s the reason I try to get all home games off.”

  “Mikki, please.” Vivian met her employee with a no-joking, don’t-push-me kind of eye glare. I fought not to chuckle.

  As Mikki left the office, she closed the door behind her, and I stepped closer to Vivian. “Sorry to drop in unannounced, but I only have a few minutes before I’m due back at the stadium.”

  “You’re a professional basketball player?”

  “I am.”

  “Then why lie and tell me you work for Romero Holdings?”

  “That wasn’t a lie that is who I actually work for.” I stepped closer and cupped her face. It wasn’t the right time, she wasn’t ready for me to kiss her, but god, I wanted to. “I was so close,
we were so close, and . . . I needed to see you, face-to-face.” Vivian patted her hair. “Stop, you look adorable.”

  “I have no makeup on.”

  “I don’t care.” I tilted her head up to face me. “Go out with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Not sure yet but on a date. Please.”

  She bit her lower lip, and her eyes seemed to have a hard time meeting mine. “Okay. I’m nervous though.”

  “Why?” My thumb trailed along her cheek.

  “It’s been about eighteen years since I went on a first date.”

  “You haven’t been on a date since . . .” I didn’t want to finish that sentence.

  She shook her head.

  I leaned forward and kissed her cheek before whispering, “We will make it special.” When I pulled back enough to look her in her eyes, I added, “I’ll pick you up at six thirty tomorrow night, I’ll get your address from you later.”

  “Okay.” The smile she gave me was heart stopping.

  “I hate to meet and run, get it, see what I did there? Eat and run.” I was chuckling at my own joke, which was lame, so I stopped and took a deep breath. “But, truthfully, I have to go, Little One. Promise to text me your address?”

  She nodded, and I fist pumped.

  “Your destination is on your right,” the female British voice that I had programmed for my GPS said. I slowed down and turned into the driveway of a small bungalow-style home.

  Since picking up a basketball, I’d never felt out of place because I always had somewhere I belonged. Sitting in her driveway, though, I was totally lost.

  I had no clue where I would fit into her world. I mean, I loved my car. An Aston Martin Vanquish had been my dream car growing up, but here in this neighborhood, it was too flashy, and I knew it.

  My head tilted forward, resting against the steering wheel; I regretted tonight’s decisions. Making some last minute changes, I tucked the blue wrapped gift into the glove box. I didn’t think it was any big deal, a charm bracelet from Tiffany with a champagne bottle, a phone, and a basketball. But she might, and that was all that mattered.