Falling For Her

by Mia Ford

  I took a shower and got dressed, then packed my stuff and started to go downstairs to call a cab. I was about to leave the room when there was a knock at the door. I opened the door to find the woman who had overseen the auction standing there with a broad smile on her heavily made up face and a leather briefcase dangling at her side. She handed me the briefcase and clasped her hands between her breasts. She looked as proud as punch.

  “Congratulations, Miss Donovan,” she said. “I’m so glad things worked out for you. Mr. D’Angelo is a lovely man.”

  “Thank you,” I said, holding out the briefcase between my hands like a tray full of drinks back at the bar. “What is this?”

  “It’s your share of the money, dear,” she said with a nod. “Two hundred thousand dollars in cash.” She leaned her head in, put her hand to one side of her mouth, and lowered her voice. “And don’t worry about paying taxes on it because the IRS will never know.”

  “Um, okay…” Wow, in my orgasmic bliss I had totally forgotten about the money. This day just kept getting better.

  “Mr. D’Angelo ordered a car for you. It’s downstairs to take you back to the city when you’re ready. We do like for guests to leave before noon if possible so we can close up the house. I hope you found your experience here enjoyable. And please, tell your virginal friends about us, confidentially, of course. The authorities don’t approve of our little game. We pay a handsome commission for referrals. And confidentiality.”

  “A commission?”

  She held up ten fingers and wiggled them one at a time, as if I were a little kid she was teaching to count. “Yes. Ten thousand dollars for each referral that is successfully auctioned.”

  “Wow, um, okay. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

  I didn’t really know what to say so I thanked her again and she walked away. I was a little dumbfounded that I was holding two hundred thousand dollars in cash and had been invited to refer virgins for a commission.

  I wondered if Bethany would be getting ten grand for referring me.

  If not, I would gladly pay her a commission myself because the Virgin Auction was about to change my life.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Katrina

  When I arrived home around ten, I found my dad standing behind the bar with a pencil and clipboard in hand, taking inventory of the liquor bottles and beer in the cooler, acting like it was just another day at the bar and all was right with the world. And he didn’t have some guys threatening to kill him.

  The bar wouldn’t open for another few hours, so all the lights were on and he had the radio turned up, listening to one of those loud mouth political commentators he listened to all the time. I didn’t think my dad was especially political. He just liked the noise. He once said it made him feel like he was not so alone. The sadness of the remark never registered with me before, though it was doing so now as I watched him through the small glass in the kitchen door. He looked so small and alone behind the great, big bar. I had never really thought about how sad he must have been over mom’s death. I had never really thought about his feelings at all.

  I had used my key to come in through the back door and when I walked into the bar from the kitchen, he jumped at the sight of me.

  “Jesus, girl, you nearly scared me to death,” he said, tossing the clipboard on the bar and swiping the back of his hand across his forehead. He took a minute to catch his breath, then forced his version of a smile and waited for me to slide onto a barstool. I set the briefcase on the floor and laced my fingers together on the bar.

  “Wanna Coke or something?” he asked. “Might be some coffee left in the pot.”

  I gave him a little smile. “No, I’m fine.”

  He picked up a bar rag and rubbed it between his hands. “So, how was Atlantic City?”

  I had told him that I was going to Atlantic City with Bethany for the weekend so he wouldn’t worry or suspect anything. It was also the perfect cover to explain how I came home with so much cash.

  I set the briefcase on the bar and clicked open the latches. “It was a good weekend,” I said, spinning the briefcase to face him. “In fact…” When I opened the case and he saw the banded stacks of twenty-dollar bills, I thought his eyes were going to pop right out of his head.

  “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, where did you get that money?” he asked. He reached into the case and tentatively ran his fingertips over the stacks of bills. I knew that showing a gambling addict so much money was like handing the keys to a meth lab to a crack addict. I playfully slapped his hand and closed the case.

  “Like I said, I had a very good weekend,” I said. “I hit a hot streak at the roulette table.”

  “Roulette?” He was staring at the briefcase, even though I had closed the lid and set my arms on top of it. He narrowed his eyes at me as if he was looking for a lie on my lips. “I didn’t know you knew how to play roulette.”

  “Well, you don’t really know how to play roulette,” I said. “You just pick a color and number and give it a spin. It was all dumb luck.”

  “How much is in there?” he asked cautiously. I could see a film of sweat coating his forehead and upper lip. He wiped the sweat away with the bar rag and stared at the briefcase.

  “Enough to settle your debt and put me through a couple of years of school,” I said.

  “Settle my debt?” He held up his hands and shook his head. “No, no way, I will pay my own debts. I’ll figure it out. I don’t need you paying for my sins.”

  “Dad, you told me they would kill you if you didn’t pay them $75,000 by the end of the month. Has that changed?”

  “No.”

  “So, you will use $75,000 of this money to get square with them,” I said. “But after that, no more gambling because I won’t help you again. Do you understand?” I reached across the bar and put my hand on his arm. It was the first time I’d touched my dad in years. “Dad, promise me. No more.”

  “I promise,” he muttered with tears in his eyes. “I swear on your mother’s grave. No more.”

  “All right then. You set up a meeting with them and I’ll give you the cash to pay them off. Meet them in a public place. In daylight. Today. Do you understand? You pay them and then never see them again.”

  “I understand,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. His eyes overflowed and the tears streamed down his ruddy cheeks. “I’ll go call them now.”

  I squeezed his arm again. “Dad, I love you. It will be all right.”

  “I know,” he said, sniffing back the tears. He didn’t say that he loved me back, but I knew that he did. He wiped his nose on the bar rag and carried it with him into the kitchen and up the stairs to call the men who had threatened his life. My only hope was that once they had their money, they would know better than to trust him again.

  * * *

  I counted out $75,000 in cash and put it in a paper bag and handed it to my father when he came downstairs. He didn’t open the bag. He tucked it inside his Member’s Only jacket and zipped it up, his version of safe keeping.

  “I’m meeting him in the park in an hour,” he said. “I’ll be back right after that to open the bar.” He paused to look me in the eye. “Thank you, Katrina. I’ll never let you down again.”

  “That would be awesome,” I said with a playful smile. I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Be careful, daddy. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  * * *

  I was finishing the inventory when my cellphone on the bar rang. I looked at the number. The caller ID said Nicky D. I smiled. He must have put his number in my phone without me realizing it. I picked up the phone and slid the screen to answer the call.

  “Well, hello there,” I said. I felt my heart speed up in my chest when I heard his voice.

  “Hello back,” he said. “Did you make it back to the city okay?”

  “I did, thanks to the car service you sent. That was very kind of you. I could have called a cab.”

  “I didn’t want you taking a cab carrying all that c
ash,” he said. “I talked to Lois before I left and she promised to take good care of you for me.”

  “She did a fantastic job,” I said gleefully. I had to pinch myself to calm down. I sounded like a giddy school girl gushing over the phone. “So, are you at work?”

  “Since eight A.M.,” he said. “I was actually hoping that I could kidnap you for a late lunch. Are you busy?”

  I leaned back against the beer cooler and bit my lip. “Um, no, I could get away for an hour or two. Where would you like to meet?”

  “Why don’t I come to you,” he said. “I’ll pick you up in an hour and we’ll find a place close by.”

  “Actually, I have an appointment downtown,” I said. It was a lie, of course, but I wasn’t ready to expose him to the reality that was my life. “Just text me your address and I’ll meet you there.”

  Nicky texted the address of his office and I set my phone back on the bar. I had taken all of the beer out of the cooler to inventory it and to clear out a place to hide the money. I took the briefcase and set it at the bottom of the cooler, then covered it with several layers of beer bottles and cans. I knew I couldn’t walk around the city carrying that much cash and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it yet. I mean, if I put that much in the bank they would have to notify the IRS. I was fine with paying my share of taxes, but until I could figure it all out, hiding the money seemed to be the best bet.

  I went upstairs to do a quick check of my hair and makeup, then went out the back and locked the door. I normally would have taken the subway, but I had five hundred dollars in my pocket and was dying to spend some of it. As they say, it was burning a hole in my pocket, mainly because I’d never had more than a few dollars on me before. I felt like the richest girl in the world.

  I hailed a cab without worrying about the fare and went off to have lunch with my new lover.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Nicky

  I was waiting on the sidewalk when the cab pulled up and Katrina waved at me through the dirty window. I held the door open for her, then took her into my arms and gave her a long, sloppy kiss right there on the sidewalk.

  “Wow, do you greet all your lunch guests this way?” she asked with her wrists crossed behind my neck and a smile on her gorgeous face. My eyes took her in. She was even more beautiful than I remembered.

  “Just you,” I said, taking her hand. “Come on, I have a fancy restaurant in mind that I think you’ll like.”

  * * *

  Katrina grinned as we stood in line at Nathan’s to order our hot dogs and drinks. She was clutching my arm, leaning into me. “This is your idea of a fancy restaurant?”

  “I’m a pretty basic guy,” I said, playfully bumping her with my shoulder. “Next time I’ll fly you to Paris for dinner. For now, I was craving Nathan’s.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. “Although, for the record, I hate French food.”

  “Duly noted,” I said. “Maybe we’ll just stick to fast food.”

  We finally got to the front of the line and ordered our food, then carried it to a corner table and spread it out like a grand feast. We both dug in, no pretense here after the weekend we had, and ate as if we were starving. Apparently, our weekend, and the energy we expended had left us both famished.

  I finished my Chicago dog and wiped my lips on a greasy napkin. I watched her swirl a French fry around a puddle of ketchup and asked, “So, what are your plans now that you are a woman of means?”

  “Well, I guess I will apply to a few schools to see who’ll have me,” she said with a sigh. “My high school grades were good and my SAT scores were not terrible, but I have been out of school for four years, so…”

  “That shouldn’t matter,” I said, reaching across the table to brush a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “You’re brilliant. You’ll get in wherever you apply. If there’s anything I can do, a letter of recommendation or whatever, just let me know.”

  “And exactly what would you be recommending me for?” she asked with a devilish gleam in her eye.

  “I would recommend you for many things,” I said, feeling her foot rubbing against the inside of my calf. She had slipped her foot out of the shoe she was wearing. I could feel her toes crawling up my leg like a sexy spider. Her eyes burned into mine. I wanted her so fucking badly I could have swept the trash from the table and taken her right there in Nathan’s with everyone watching. I felt my cock getting hard in my pants just thinking about fucking her.

  “Can I ask you a professional question,” she said, breaking the mood even as her foot slid higher up my leg. She wiped her mouth and picked up her drink. She shook the ice and took a sip. I watched her luscious lips close around the straw. It made me swallow hard.

  “Of course, Miss Donovan,” I said. “I am at your service.”

  “All that cash,” she said, leaning in and lowering her voice. “Should I just put it in the bank or what?”

  “The IRS will eat a huge chunk of it if you do,” I said. “Tell you what, give me a day or two and I’ll work up a plan for you to protect the money and keep it available for tuition and expenses.”

  “That would be awesome,” she said, squeezing my hand. She gazed into my eyes and gave me a dreamy smile. “Can I see you later?”

  “You can see me now,” I said, arching my eyebrows at her. “We could go back to my place. Or I could come to yours.”

  “Actually, there are some things that I have to take care of at home this afternoon. Can I text you later? Maybe see you tonight?”

  “You can text and see me anytime,” I said. I reached under the table and stopped her toes just before they reached my cock. “For now, you need to pull that foot back and give me a few minutes to compose myself.”

  She pursed her lips and glanced down, as if she could see through the Formica table. “Why, Mr. D’Angelo, is that a hard-on in your pants or are you just glad to see me?”

  “Yes and yes,” I said with a grin. “Let’s just say that if I try to walk out of her now I’m afraid I’d make a spectacle of myself.”

  “Well, it is a hot dog place,” she said. “Your foot-long would be right at home. She grinned and pulled her foot away. It just made me want her more.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Katrina

  I was starting to freak out a little. It was nearly six o’clock and I hadn’t heard from my father, who had been gone for nearly six hours. And because I hadn’t heard from my father, I had not texted or called Nicky to set up a date for later tonight. The old feelings of dread, the ones that used to hang over my head like a dark cloud, returned as I paced the floor and stole occasional glances out the window. Was my father ever coming home? And if so, what shape would he be in when he arrived?

  I got the sinking feeling that something had gone terribly wrong when he went to pay off his gambling debt. These people he was dealing with, they were not nice people who operated within the bounds of the law. They were thugs and criminals, not above hurting or even killing someone to make a point or get what they wanted. My father was in grave danger. I could just feel it in my bones.

  I tried calling his cellphone again and it went right to voicemail. I had been calling him every ten minutes for several hours. I had left a dozen messages pleading with him to call to let me know he was okay. The dark feeling was so strong that I had not opened the bar. I kept the closed sign on the door and the lights off. Patrons came by and knocked, but I ignored them and didn’t let them in.

  I was about to call dad’s cell again when I heard a noise coming from the kitchen. I burst through the door to find him on his hands and knees just inside the back door. Thank God, he was alive, trying to push himself up off the floor. I rushed over and helped him sit up with his back against the wall. My heart stopped when I looked at his face. He had been beaten to a pulp.

  “Oh my god, dad, what happened?” I screamed, my hands on his shoulders. I swept my eyes over him. His eyes were nearly swollen shut. His nose was broken and bloody. His lips were split and puffy. His face, shirt,
and jacket were covered in dried blood.

  “I’m okay…” he whispered, holding out his hands to blindly reach for me. “I just need… to lie down.”

  “Christ, daddy, you’re not okay,” I said, taking his hands and squeezing them tight. “You need a doctor. I’m going to call an ambulance and the police.”

  “No, no, don’t do that,” he said desperately, clutching at my hands. “That will only make things worse.” He leaned his head back against the wall and peered at me through the slit of his right eye. “Please, just let me rest for a minute. I’ll be okay.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I ran to the sink and wet a cold rag and brought it back to him. He took the rag and held it to his split lips. “Thank you… I’m okay… just need a minute.”

  “Daddy, tell me what happened.”

  “He said it wasn’t enough.”

  “Who said it wasn’t enough?” I asked. “What does that mean.”

  He struggled to breathe through his swollen lips. His nose was completely broken and blocked. “He said there was more money. He said the seventy-five grand wasn’t going to be enough now. He wants it all. The son of a bitch. He wants it all.”

  I felt a cold chill creeping up my spine. “Daddy, tell me exactly what he said. Word for word.”

  He licked his lips and tried to swallow. “He said you had two hundred thousand dollars. He wants it all or he will kill us both.”

  The breath caught in my throat. “How did he know I had that much money? Daddy, how did he know? Did you tell him?”

  He let his head roll from side to side. “No, I had no idea how much you had. He said you had two hundred thousand dollars in a briefcase and he wants every cent or he will kill us both.”

  I swallowed the lump that had lodged in my throat. “Daddy, tell me the man’s name.”

  “No, Katrina, you can’t fight these people and you can’t call the cops,” he said. He coughed and put the towel over his lips. It came down covered in bright red blood. “You have to leave, Katrina. You have to get out of town.”