Maybe Baby Lite

by ANDREA SMITH

  Oh no!

  “Happy Birthday, Tylar,” he said, smiling.

  I returned his smile. He put his arm around me and we headed back up the staircase to the mezzanine. Once seated, more drinks were set in front of me. There they were; the dreaded, Jell-O shots, my downfall from senior prom. I pushed that memory from my mind and tossed the shot back. Right then someone came up from behind me put his arms around me with a squeeze and gave me a “Gotcha!”

  “Oh my God!’ I squealed, turning around to see Luke, Clint, and Rodney. “Gina didn’t tell me you were coming!” I jumped up to hug them.

  “Whoa,” Clint whistled, checking out my outfit.

  “I see that ‘Whoa,’ and raise you a ‘Wow!’” said Rodney. I blushed.

  “You look amazing, baby!” Luke winked.

  “You guyyzzz” I gushed, feeling no pain. “C’mon, it’s my birthday, let’s toast!” Gina brought another tray of Jell-O shots, and we all took one, toasted, and downed it. The band below was keying up for another tune. The lead singer had the mic, announcing the next song.

  “Okay everyone, we’re going to do a two-song tribute right now to the ‘King of Funk’. So I want everyone to hurry on down to this dance floor. That’s right, for the late great, King of Funk, Mr. Rick James his 1981 hit, “Super Freak!”

  “C’mon,” Gina, said, grabbing my arm as the band struck the first note. “Everybody!” she commanded.

  Maybe it was the alcohol, or my friends around me, or the way I was dressed, but all inhibitions left me when I stepped on the dance floor. Gina was freak-dancing with Luke, so I grabbed Rodney and started freaking. I was bumping and grinding against Rodney, then turned and he did the same to me. At one point I was down at his ankles working my way back up his body to the beat when I froze around his mid-section. I was being watched by a pair of very familiar, very emblazoned sapphire blue eyes. Trey sat at the bar adjacent to the dance floor, leaning back, with a beer in his hand and a blond on his left. I couldn’t tell if they were together or not.

  Rodney noticed I'd not come back up all of the way, and bent down to face me. “Are you all right? Are you going to be sick?” he asked, concerned.

  “I may be,” I answered, “don’t turn around Rodney, but Trey is sitting over at the bar, and he’s looking over this way.” Naturally, Rodney turned and saw him.

  “Holy shit,” he said, “I’m outtie.”

  Rodney climbed the staircase to the safety of the mezzanine. “Chicken,” I thought. I wasn't about to be intimidated by Trey so I danced over to Clint and joined them.

  As “Super Freak” ended, the band immediately cued up another Rick James song, “Party All the Time,” as in ‘my girl wants to.’ Perfect, I thought. Clint and I danced to the tune, along with Gina and Luke. We were bumping and grinding and I was getting the ultimate pleasure watching Trey squirm in my very astute peripheral vision. I made sure when the song ended, to jump up and wrap myself around Clint in a big hug. I think he was a little shocked, but no more than I.

  After two in a row, we were all a bit worn out. As we climbed the stairs to the mezzanine, Gina caught my attention.

  “That was quite a little show you put on down there for Trey, you looking to get Clint and Rodney’s asses kicked tonight?”

  My look of surprise and shock didn’t fool Gina at all.

  “Don’t bother,” she said, “I know how you roll, girlfriend and hey, I’ve got no problem with dude sitting over there watching you and feeling like his heart is being ripped out, believe me. But C’mon, Ty, you know that it’s not really fair to Clint and Rodney when he chews them out later, right?”

  “I was dancing with Piers, too,” I argued, “so you think Trey’s going to take a piece out of his hide, too?”

  “Doubtful,” she answered. “In the first place, we’re not even sure Trey was in here when you were dancing with Piers. Secondly,” she continued, with a laugh, “you weren’t dry humping Piers like you did with the others.”

  “It’s called ‘freaking’” I argued, “and it’s a perfectly acceptable dance.”

  “Uh huh,” Gina replied. “Hey, I ain’t the one you have to convince, Ty. I was doing it too, you know. It’s just that, well…” Gina started giggling almost uncontrollably, “My partner didn’t leave the dance floor with a hard-on like both of yours did!”

  “Shut up! No they didn’t!” I laughed, “You're making that up, Gina!” I was bent over, laughing so hard that I didn’t notice that Trey was walking to the dance floor with the blond who'd been sitting next to him at the bar. Gina hadn’t missed a thing, though, as she glanced at me.

  “Showtime,” Gina said, nodding her head toward the dance floor. I turned to follow her gaze and my heart sank to my knees. We hurried the rest of the way up the steps. I didn’t want to give Trey the satisfaction of knowing that I'd seen him take his date on to the dance floor. The band did a Mike and the Mechanics ’80s song called, “All I Need is a Miracle.” What an appropriate selection, I thought. I tried to ignore the lyrics but the words floated up to me over Gina’s insanely expensive sound system, the words crisp, clear, and sharp as a knife as they pierced my heart.

  I couldn’t take it any longer; I felt the warm tears brimming in my eyes threatening to spill. Gina saw it, too.

  “C’mon,” she said, taking my hand, “let’s go to the little girls’ room.” We'd barely made it inside the restroom when the floodgates opened. Gina found box of tissues and was trying to do damage control to the eye make-up she'd so carefully and expertly applied earlier.

  “It’s okay, sweetie, you're going to be fine, no need for tears,” she was trying her best to soothe me.

  “Why is he here?” I blubbered, “And he brought a fucking date! He must really be trying to send me a message with this stunt, and it’s my birthday!” I wailed.

  “No, no, honey, c’mon, you don’t want streaks down your cheeks, now,” Gina was dabbing away.

  “Oh, I don’t care what I look like, Gina. I want to leave!”

  “Oh, no, we're going nowhere, girlfriend. Now you just take a minute and calm yourself down and listen to me, I mean it.”

  I nodded obediently. Gina took out a compact and dabbed some pressed power just underneath my eyelids.

  “There, that’s better,” she said. She then got some pencil liner out and relined my bottom lids. “Perfect,” she said. “Now, I need to tell you something, Ty,” she started in a conciliatory tone. “I'm probably the reason that Trey is in here tonight.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, I said something to Aunt Becky when I talked to her last week. I let her know that Ian and I were having you come to Atlanta this weekend to celebrate your birthday. I asked her to let Clint and the others know, and that they were invited as Ian’s and my guests to the Sanctuary tonight in honor of your birthday. I swear to God that I didn’t ask her to invite Trey, though!”

  “Gina, you knew that between Clint, Luke, and Rodney, Trey was bound to find out, now didn’t you?”

  “So what if he did? He should be here for your birthday!”

  “I don’t get you, Gina,” I replied, slightly amused. “One minute you act like you think Trey's a major control freak Nazi, and the next minute it’s like you’re playing matchmaker with us. What’s up with that?”

  “Well, I do think he’s somewhat of a Nazi, yeah, but he’s your Nazi, Ty. For whatever reason, and even I don’t understand it, when I see you two around each other there's this hot energy that you bring out in each other. I mean, yeah, it drives me nuts when I see him go all ‘Edward Cullen’ on you, but I think you need to play it out. It could be something really good.”

  “You're something else,” I laughed. I couldn’t be mad at her. I did feel better knowing that his coming to the club wasn’t to make me jealous, although I was curious about the blond he was dancing with. I took a deep breath. “Let’s get back to my party,” I said, squaring my shoulders.

  CHAPTER 22
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br />   Gina and I returned to our table on the mezzanine and either no one had noticed our hasty departure or they were too polite to inquire. The bands were switching out and regular music was playing over the sound system. I sipped my vodka sonic, amazed that I was still pretty much sober after all the shots I’d taken. Luke and Rodney had met a couple of girls from a table downstairs and invited them up to party with us.

  “Testing one, two.” The emcee stood at the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please? I’ve been told that we have a special birthday celebration tonight at the Sanctuary, a VIP birthday as a matter of fact.”

  I looked at Gina who had her shit-eating grin going good, Ian stood beside her with the same expression. Oh, it seemed they had outdone themselves on this one.

  “So,” the emcee continued, “if we could just get the little lady down here on the stage, so that our next group can give her a proper birthday shout-out for her 21 years on this planet! Tylar Preston? Come on dowwnnn!”

  The crowd whooped and hollered.

  “C’mon,” Piers said, gentleman that he was, “I’ll escort you down, Tylar.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered, good-naturedly glaring at Gina. Piers put his hand on the small of my back and we descended the stairway. I was suddenly feeling very exposed and had to resist the urge to tug at my dress, wishing it covered more. “Don’t fall, don’t fall,” I repeated to myself the whole way down. The band had taken stage and was tuning their instruments to what sounded like an electric version of “Happy Birthday.”

  My embarrassment reached its peak when I spotted Trey, sitting at the bar, directly in front of the dance floor and the band warming up. His face was unreadable.

  “Here she is!” the emcee announced as he saw Piers leading me over. “And she looks fiiiine! C’mon up here, darling!”

  Why did my dress seem tighter? I looked at Piers for help. He smiled and lifted me up, placing me on the stage.

  “Now darlin’, the boys here in the band wanted to play you a traditional Happy Birthday song, but it seems that they've just received an offer that they simply couldn't refuse. But in order to collect on that offer, there is a stipulation.”

  Oh God, is this going to get bad again?

  “It seems, little lady, that you have an admirer out there in the crowd. Yes sir, a very generous admirer. He asked that the boys play a ‘spotlight’ dance for you and him only. Now you have to agree to this or, well, we give you a Happy Birthday song, and let you sing along with the boys. What’s it going to be, sugar?” He held the microphone up.

  “Do I get to pick the song for the dance?” I asked shyly.

  “No darling, your benefactor was very specific on that part. Seems he thinks you look “Pretty in Pink,” so is it a go?”

  “Oh sure why not?” I said into the mic, to thunderous applause. The lights dimmed, leaving only a spotlight on the dance floor. I turned to Piers. No wonder he'd so kindly “offered” to escort me down for this birthday humiliation. I could be a good sport if I had to. But Piers remained standing off to the side.

  “Here’s our band ‘Osmosis’ ladies and gentlemen, with a tribute song to our birthday girl in the spotlight, from the 1986 film ‘Pretty in Pink.’ This song was recorded by the British group Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. Here it is, ‘If you Leave.’”

  The band kicked off the song and I recognized it immediately. The lights were fully dimmed but Piers didn’t budge. I felt self-conscious standing on stage alone, until a pair of strong arms lifted me down onto the dance floor.

  I turned and looked up. Trey. I put my right arm around his neck, and laced my fingers into his proffered hand. He danced as exquisitely as he looked. I was mesmerized by his closeness, laying my head against his chest and closing my eyes, drinking in his scent, his “Trey-ness.” Some of the lyrics floated to my consciousness, and I was curious as to why Trey had selected this specific song. Was he sending a message? The lyrics were contradictory in places, just like us. Did he want me to stay? Was it just about staying one night?

  “And say I will…” the song crooned.

  I thought, “Will what?” and then I understood. I looked up at him, our eyes met, I got it.

  “Happy Birthday, Tylar,” he whispered. “You know that I would’ve found you no matter what, don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure of anything anymore, Trey. These past few weeks have been difficult in so many ways. I don’t want things to be so complicated anymore.”

  He leaned down and kissed me softly as the song wound down. Thankfully, the band moved right into another song and the dance floor was once again a melee of activity.

  “I want to go back to the hotel,” I said. “Will you take me?”

  “Of course, I will, Tylar.”

  Gina stood waiting as we left the dance floor. She still had her shit-eating grin on and handed me my purse. “I called the limo,” she said. “He’ll be out front in two minutes. Ian and I are going to stick around a little longer. The driver will drop you guys, you know, wherever.”

  “Thanks, Gina,” I grinned, hugging her, “…for all this.”

  “Good night, Gina,” Trey said, smiling at her just a little bit appreciatively.

  The limo was waiting as we stepped outside. The chauffeur opened the double doors, and Trey and I slid in on the same side. It felt good that in this moment, I was in control; Trey had no clue where I was staying.

  “Grand Hyatt, Buckhead,” I reminded the driver. Trey cocked an amused eyebrow at me.

  “Glad to see you don’t skimp when it comes to lodging in the big city,” he teased.

  “Actually, it was a birthday gift from Ian and Gina, two nights,” I replied. “Drink?” I offered.

  “Sure, whatever you’re having, Ms. Preston.”

  I mixed two vodka sonics in the tall frosted glasses in the limo’s wet bar. Trey took his graciously, and held it up. “To your 21st birthday, Tylar, and to the fact that you now can drink legally. And hoping that we always remain a part of each other’s lives—cheers!”

  “Cheers,” I repeated, tapping my glass to his. I settled back with my cocktail, leaning against him as the limo made its way to my hotel. I mused about his toast. What did that mean?

  “Trey,” I asked as he tipped the frosted glass back, taking a drink of his cocktail. “Who was the blond slut with you at the bar?”

  He immediately choked on his drink, causing him to spit most of it against the limo’s glass partition. He pulled his monogrammed handkerchief out to dab his dripping chin, then he wiped the glass clean on the partition. I'd embarrassed his good manners. Good, I thought, now answer my question.

  “I wasn’t with anyone at the bar tonight.”

  “So you're going to sit there and tell me that there wasn’t a blond seated next to you at the bar tonight?”

  “What I'm telling you is that the blond seated next to me at the bar wasn't with me. I was there first. She came in later and sat next to me. That’s all there was to it.”

  “Really?” I said. “If that's all there was to it, why did you dance with her?”

  “She asked me to dance, not the other way around,” he clarified. “I can’t think that you had an issue with that. It appeared to me as if you were doing some sort of a tribal mating dance with Rodney until you scared him off.”

  “You're the one that scared him off,” I said, pointing my finger at him.

  He smirked, snatching my finger with his hand, kissing it.

  I continued undeterred, “He saw you glaring at us!” Trey didn’t respond, but he grinned, pulling me onto his lap. “You like being able to intimidate those guys, don’t you?” I said.

  “I’d like it much better if I could intimidate you, Tylar,” he answered softly, bringing his mouth down on mine.

  Oh my.

  His kiss was passionate; there was urgency to it. I molded my body to him and could feel his arousal.

  “This dress leaves very little to the imagination,” he co
mmented. “You drew quite an audience tonight, Ms. Preston.”

  I was only interested in an audience of one. I was eager to see how Trey was going to play it once we got to the hotel. In that moment, the chauffer pulled up to the lobby entrance.

  “Are you staying with me tonight, Trey? Or do you want the driver to take you to your apartment?”

  “You know,” he said, fingering my gold necklace gently, “we could both stay at my apartment tonight if you want.”

  I wasn’t going to give in. I wanted him to do it my way for once. “I want to stay here tonight, Trey; I’d like for you to join me.”

  “How could I ever refuse you anything?” he took my hand.

  The chauffeur opened the doors for us. Trey got out first, then helped me out. He handed the driver a tip, then guided me up the steps, where the doorman held the glass door for us.

  We crossed the quiet lobby and entered the elevator. Trey loosened his collar and tie. He was in a suit as though he'd worked today, but it was Saturday. Perhaps his law firm was so stuffy that they required full suits even on weekends. He seemed distracted, maybe he was just tired. Not too tired, I hoped.

  The elevator doors opened on the seventh floor and I led him to my room. Trey gave it the once-over approvingly. “Very nice,” he said, taking me into his arms again.

  I pulled him past the living room into the bedroom with the king-size bed. “Look at the view of Atlanta from here,” I said, going over to the balcony. “It’s really gorgeous at night isn’t it?”

  “The most beautiful thing here is you,” he said, sweetly, wrapping his arms around me as we both looked out over downtown.

  “Let’s get ready for bed, okay?” he said softly. I nodded.

  “Just give me a few minutes, okay?” I asked. I stepped out of my heels and removed my jewelry. I knew that I was going to need help getting my dress off. I turned to Trey. He looked up at me from the bed.