by R.S. Grey
When Charley doesn’t respond, Hudson continues, “You know, I’m glad I ran into you. I have a club opening up on Friday and I don’t have a date yet...” Oh, fucking hell. Who does this guy think he is?
Charley rubs the back of her neck and bites her lip. Everything about her body language screams how uncomfortable she feels, but Hudson doesn’t even seem to notice.
“That’s so great, Hudson,” she coos with fake enthusiasm. How can he not tell?
“Why don’t you come?” His eyes flicker over to me with disdain, “And you can bring your friends too. I’ll put you guys in the VIP section and drinks will be on me, of course.”
He pointedly drags out friends as though his blanket term couldn’t possibly be referring to me. No, he means fellow Upper West Side WASPs. This guy can’t be real.
Charley glances over at me with uncertainty in her eyes. What does she want? My approval? Does she want me to speak up and claim her? I’m your photographer, Charley, remember? I tip my brow and shrug before sipping my now cold coffee. It tastes like shit, but I need something to occupy my mind so I don’t have to watch her agree to go on a date with this douche bag.
“Um, okay. That sounds good, Hudson.”
Her words grate my heart and I squeeze the coffee cup so tightly that I think the ceramic might shatter beneath my fingers.
“Here, let me get your number and I’ll give you all the details before Friday.” He grabs his phone out of his tailored chinos, and at that, I stand and leave to go to the bathroom. I can’t sit there and watch her accept a guy’s date while we’re having coffee.
“Jude?” Charley asks, her soft voice nearly breaking my heart. I almost didn’t turn around, but for the fucking life of me, I can’t say no to the girl.
“I’m just running to the bathroom really quick.” I should leave. This is too much, but I swear the way she looks at me in that moment could melt the ice caps. During her conversation with Hudson she never once showed him the amount of feeling she’s giving me with that one look. There’s still hope.
CHAPTER NINE
Charley
“What the hell Charley!?” Naomi shouts through the phone.
“I didn’t want to be rude! What was I supposed to do?” I argue, flipping through the pages of my sketch book, trying to simultaneously sketch and appease Naomi all at once.
I swear the groan she emits just then could be heard across the Atlantic. “Tell him that you’re on a date with another guy and that it’s rude to ask you out like that!”
I huff, falling back on my bed with a thud and scattering my sketchbook to the floor. I cringe thinking of the bent corners I’ve just caused.
“Jude never said it was a date! And I tried to get him to look at me, to give me some sign that I should say no, but he shrugged it off. He didn’t care, and I felt like a complete idiot, so I said yes.”
“What happened after Hudson left?” she asks as if she’s a detective interrogating me under a harsh bulb.
I swallow and try to say the next sentence as calmly as possible. “I invited Jude to go with us to the club. He said he’d invite a date and we could all go as a group.”
No, saying it slowly didn’t make the phrase sound any better out loud.
“Which proves everything, Naomi. If he wants to invite a date then he isn’t upset that Hudson invited me.”
The sinking feeling in my stomach threatens to consume me as silence fills the phone line. I focus on the world through my window, contemplating mind over matter. If I tell my stomach and my heart and my legs and my eyes and my ears to stop pining for Jude, shouldn’t I be able to do it?
“You’re a fool. He said that to protect himself. He wants you, or he wouldn’t have invited you to get coffee. Which means you’re going to look freaking sexy tomorrow, and you’re going to prove to Jude that you want him and not dumb Hudson.”
“I don’t know, Naomi… Last time I attempted that it didn’t turn out so well.” My cheeks still burn looking at the spot near my nightstand where I drunkenly stood and stripped for Jude. I should wrap caution tape around the spot like it’s a crime scene. Lord knows I’ve avoided the four by four square as though physical remnants of my pride lay concealed under the varnished wood.
I drag a hand feebly down my face, wishing Naomi would let me go back to sketching already.
“This is different, really. I’m going to leave work at noon tomorrow and use a few personal hours so we can go shopping. You just have that catalog shoot in the morning, right?”
“Yes,” I murmur, knowing her mind is already made up, and maybe she’s right. I haven’t purchased any new clothes in a while because I’ve been saving all of my money from my modeling. A new dress would be nice.
“Perfect,” she chimes happily. “Let’s meet at Barney’s around one, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“And, Charley… Do not give up yet. We’ll figure this out. He wants you. I know it.”
Her confident rallying speech makes me feel like we’re in the middle of Rocky. I half expect her to show up outside of my door in a moment with boxing gloves and an iPod playing “Eye of the Tiger”.
…
Naomi and I are scrubbed, buffed, waxed, and plucked. There is not a strand of unwanted hair on either of our bodies, and the hair that’s left is lying in big, silky waves down our backs. After we found the perfect dresses in Barneys, we treated ourselves to a spa day and got our hair and makeup done. It’s been ages since I’ve pampered myself and I feel sexy. Too sexy. But Naomi assures me the dress isn’t too much. Obviously, I don’t believe her, but I’m rolling with it because even I think I look edible.
My gorgeous cream, lace dress has three-quarter length sleeves and a plunging v-neck. It has a tank dress lining and a sheer, open back. The tight dress hits my legs literally a few inches under my ass, but it’s practically vacuum-sealed to my body so I don’t have to worry about the cool fall air exposing my underwear, or lack thereof. The dress is too tight for anything other than a tiny thong, but at least my lady parts are covered. I just won’t be doing any bending over at the club. Naomi, bless her gorgeous self, has the same size feet as me and let me borrow her four inch, nude Louboutin pumps to finish off the look.
“This is going to be such a good night,” Naomi declares from the other side of the cab’s back seat. I turn toward her and smile.
“I love that lipstick color on you. Especially when everything else is so nude.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully and I laugh.
“It’s called Heat Wave. They used it on me at my photo shoot the other day so I picked some up on my way home.”
“Mmm…You look like a sex vixen,” Naomi mocks in a horrible Russian accent, making me laugh even more. The cab driver eyes us skeptically through the rear view mirror, and I can’t stop the giggles from taking me over. I’m completely giddy with the anticipation of seeing Jude soon. I don’t care that he’ll have a date. I just want to look at him. Know he’s real. That a guy is actually that sexy. I loved our conversation on Wednesday. It felt so natural to sit with him like that, tucked away in the corner of a coffee shop.
Naomi’s phone vibrates in her hand and her chocolate brown waves conceal her face as she bends to check it. “The guys just got there,” she says, reading off her text message.
“Cool,” I say, feigning calmness as I glance through the cab window. “Guess I should let Hudson know I’m on my way,” I mumble, even though that’s the last thing I want to do.
Naomi checks her lipgloss in her small silver compact before stuffing it back into her clutch. “I’m glad it’s cold enough for coats. That way, when we get inside the club, we can take them off and make a real entrance.”
I smile, shifting my gaze back toward her. “Why am I not surprised that Miss Drama Queen would love a grand entrance?”
She winks at me and slings her coat open to reveal her long-sleeve, black bodycon dress. “Please. With dresses like these,” she points her finger between b
oth of us, “you can’t NOT have a dramatic entrance.”
I shake my head slowly, “Remind me to sign you up for a reality show when we get home. You’d be a celebrity in no time.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she huffs dramatically, although I know it’s secretly her dream job. Getting paid to be crazy? She would never leave. “Not unless the Kardashians need a new sister. I’d have to change my name to Kaomi, but it’d be worth it.”
I’m still laughing at her fake name when the cab pulls up in front of Hudson’s new club, but the moment I spy Jude through the window, every ounce of humor is completely wiped from my body. Holy.
He and Bennett are standing outside on the curb talking to Hudson. There’s a winding line of people waiting to get into the swanky club. It wraps around the entire building. Girls shiver in their short skirts, checking their makeup and complaining constantly no doubt. Guys shuffle back and forth impatiently, checking out those same short skirts and trying to move closer to their prey for the night.
I knew Hudson’s club opening would be packed, but this is insane. Naomi reaches over to pay the cabdriver since I bought our lunches at the spa earlier, and I follow her out into the chilly night air. Music pounds from the club doors, reverberating through my body and joining the already pulsing rhythm of my heartbeat. And then my eyes fall on him again and everything else melts away.
Dark tousled hair, dark stubble, and icy blue eyes. Black fatigue jacket, a white t-shirt pulling taut against his muscled abs leading down to dark jeans, and his sexy leather boots. I lick my lips, tasting the sweetness of my bright red lipstick. He hasn’t seen me yet. He’s turned toward Hudson and Bennett with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. I would have stood there, frozen in desire, but Naomi pulls me forward and I follow blindly. As we walk up, cat calls sound from the crowd of people waiting in line and the guys turn toward the commotion. There are dozens of people on the sidewalk, but I don’t notice them because our eyes meet and the air ignites between us. His searing gaze glides from my eyes, to my lips, to my jacket and then slowly down my long, exposed legs. I want to squirm beneath his appraisal, but I can’t move. He’s got every motor unit in my body in lockdown. When he finally meets my eyes again, a fiery need burns behind his blue gaze and I can’t help but smirk. He hasn’t even seen the dress yet.
Just then, Hudson glides in front of me, cutting off the magnificent view and dowsing the once sizzling air. He reaches out to grip my shoulder in greeting, but his hand feels cold and my first instinct is to shirk away from his touch. I keep my eyes focused on the lapel of his black suit jacket as I try to will myself to plaster on a genuine smile.
“You look great, Clarissa,” he offers as his eyes peruse the same path Jude’s had only seconds earlier. Can he see that my skin’s already been set ablaze by someone else? I barely glance over his preppy suit and tie, but I offer him a friendly smile. His dirty blonde hair is gelled back, displaying all of his handsome features, but strangely I don’t see the appeal like I once did.
“Hi Hudson, thanks so much for inviting us. This place is packed.” I tuck my hands into my coat pocket, realizing how chilly the night air is without Jude’s eyes warming my body. “And actually I go by Charley now,” I clarify, hoping he’ll accept the transition without question.
A brief scowl covers his features before he offers a curt nod and turns toward the group.
“C’mon guys, let’s go inside.” Naomi squeals in excitement as Hudson’s hand hits the small of my back over my coat and dress. It’s not a crude gesture, but my eyes immediately dart to Jude as a wave of guilt hits me. Do I expect him to be upset? If so, I should be relieved to see him lift his eyebrows and smile before turning on his heel and leading the way inside.
Heavyset bouncers man the entry, allowing clusters of people to enter every now and then. But when our group walks up, they quickly part the crowd and let us enter with a quick flourish of velvet rope.
Everyone in line boos in protest behind us. I doubt they realize Hudson is one of the owners. They probably just think we’re VIPs or something, which I guess tonight we are. That thought should excite me more and it really was nice of him to invite us, but I’m not sure what he’s expecting from me. Surely he’ll be too busy to actually spend time with us.
The moment we enter the club, the flashing lights and music consume my senses. Sexy dancers in spandex shorts and crop tops dance on platforms as hoards of club-goers circle around the bar and dance floor. There must be hundreds of people inside, but it’s hard to tell in the sexy darkness of the club. Neon lights strobe above the room, illuminating certain areas and casting others into darkness. Our group doesn’t stop until we reach a set of black, glossy stairs that can only lead to trouble.
“We’ll check your coat in VIP. It’ll take less time to get them later on,” Hudson shouts in my ear, and I nod. I’d forgotten I was even wearing it. The club isn’t hot, but I imagine once we hit the dance floor we’ll warm up nicely.
The glossy stairs don’t take us to another floor. The seven steps simply raise the VIP area above the rest of the club so that we’re on an exclusive level. A thin glass railing rims the parameter of the VIP section, further dividing the club between the haves and the have-nots.
Just as my nude Louboutins step onto the second stair, a fast beat takes over the sound system and the entire club erupts in shouts. I twist toward the noise, forcing Hudson’s hand from my back on accident, and spot a house DJ spinning on a stage a few feet away from the VIP area. He’s got a flat-billed hat turned backward and a bright neon shirt over sagging jeans. I recognize his upbeat mix from the radio and the crowd is going wild so I know he must be famous.
Okay, this is pretty cool. Naomi turns around and the absolute joy written across her face says it all.
After we all check out the DJ, Hudson leads the group to a table in the center of the VIP area. A pretty waitress appears to grab our coats. Naomi and I unbutton them and just as I let the wool material drift down my arms, I feel Jude’s gaze practically devouring me, heating the air and caressing my skin with unspoken desire. I can’t look at him; I let my sexy curls hide my face as I try to remember to breathe.
“Wow,” Hudson’s tongue practically falls to the floor as his eyes hover a beat too long on the v-neck of my dress. I know it’s revealing quite a handful of cleavage. Damn you, Naomi.
I glance up toward my traitorous friend and watch her mouth, “Own it.” Easier said than done, but she’s right. I should own it. I flip my hair behind my shoulder and glance up. Everyone’s seated at the table now except for Hudson and me, so I tuck my hands behind the back of my dress and slide into the seat directly opposite Jude. He’s eyeing me with a wicked grin and smoldering eyes; I wish I knew what was going through his thoughts right now. Everything seemed platonic at the coffee shop, even though my emotions were going haywire. Tonight feels different, like we’re both letting our guards slip and forgetting about the repercussions.
I don’t have time to wonder about it further though because Hudson turns to me, leaning in, and pulling me into a private conversation. That’s when it hits me. Jude didn’t bring a date. What the hell? He didn’t bring a date. I glance up briefly. He’s chatting with Naomi and Bennett, but maybe his date will meet us here?
“Charley,” Hudson says slowly, trying out my new name and pulling my attention back to him. “How have you been since high school? I mean obviously you’ve done well for yourself. You’re looking sexy as hell.” His breath carries remnants of tobacco and a vision of my mother prancing around the house with a glass of wine, nursing her second pack of cigarettes for the day, pops into my mind.
“I’ve been good.” I fidget awkwardly before folding my hands over my lap. I shouldn’t mind his compliment but for some reason it seems overly slick.
“You seem like you’re doing well too. Do you own many clubs?” I ask as my eyes glance around to take in my surroundings. They keep VIP so secluded that I can hardly see what
the rest of the club looks like.
“This is the first. My dad wanted to diversify the business.”
“Well you guys did a great job. This place is really cool.”
Hudson’s gaze flits around everywhere as we talk. At first I assume he’s multi-tasking: trying to make sure his club’s opening is running smoothly while attempting to keep me entertained. But, I find myself following his gaze out of curiosity and my eyes land on a gorgeous brunette at the bar. She’s smiling over at him, practically eye-fucking him even as I look on. I can’t help but laugh. I don’t mind; I don’t particularly want his attention on me, but we literally just got here.
“Oh, thanks. My dad and I worked really hard the last few months,” he answers, only half interested.
I nod, trying to salvage the remnants of our conversation and stay focused on him rather than Jude, but it’s becoming harder by the second.
“I hope your father is doing well.” My words are completely lost on him as the brunette from the bar walks over and starts to whisper in his ear. He smiles and wraps his hand around her waist, squeezing her ample curves and making her squeal in delight. I feel like a voyeur, watching them like this, but as I’m about to get up and offer her my seat, the brunette walks off and Hudson eyes me once again. Damn.
“So do you like modeling?” he asks, running his smooth hand across my shoulder. My skin bristles under his touch and I have to fight the urge to pull away once again. He literally just had that hand wrapped around some girl’s ass.
Does he not realize how slimy that is? I can feel Jude’s gaze on me, but I don’t want to look over. I don’t want him to witness Hudson treating me like a toy, so easily disposable.
“Um, yes. It’s a means to an end,” I say flatly.
“That’s great!” He responds over enthusiastically, and I realize he’s not listening to a word I say. He’s glancing over my shoulder making sexy eyes with a redhead girl at the next table. Does this guy have ADD or what? Luckily, the same waitress that took out coats comes back at that moment with a round of drinks, saving me from this strange purgatory.