by Amy Valenti
He stopped outside a room marked with 3B. He pressed his hand against a black screen by the door, and I heard a click. Then he pushed the door open and led me inside.
I don’t know what I was expecting when I walked through that door. Whips and chains, maybe. Or a rickety old bed with a squeaky mattress covered with a moth-eaten blanket and dubious stains. Perhaps a scene right out of the red light district with crushed red velvet and black lace accents. Anything but the lavishly decorated apartment into which I’d just stepped.
There were no windows, which was the only indication that this wasn’t one of those fancy penthouse apartments in some high-rise building. There was a full kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances, plush furnishings in the living area in shades of cream and gray, and a door that led, I assumed, to a bedroom. It was definitely a masculine style of décor with lots of steel and slate.
“Nice place,” I commented. “Do you live here?”
He chuckled and said, “No, but I spend a significant amount of time here so I thought I should splurge on one of the better rooms. Can I get you something to drink?” Without waiting for me to answer, he reached inside a cabinet and retrieved two glasses.
“To be honest, I really only like mixed drinks,” I told him.
“I can have room service bring you anything you like,” he said. “Margarita, was it?”
I nodded. I was rather impressed that he’d actually noticed what I was drinking and had remembered it.
He picked up the phone on the counter and pressed two numbers. After a moment, he said, “This is 3B. We’d like a pitcher of margaritas, please.” He looked at me and asked, “Are you hungry?” After I shook my head he said, “No, that’s all. Thank you.”
I was standing awkwardly between the kitchen and living area, unsure what he wanted me to do. He approached me and motioned toward the sofa.
“Please, have a seat,” he said.
I slid onto the plush cream-colored sofa and folded my hands in my lap, sitting with my back straight as an arrow. He plopped comfortably onto the chair across from me and leaned back with his arm thrown comfortably over the arm and his ankle on one knee.
“So, I still don’t know your name,” he told me.
“Victoria,” I told him.
I wasn’t sure about the protocol for Club Red. Did people use pseudonyms? Either way, I rarely went by Victoria. Everyone simply called me Tori.
“Gaius,” he said.
“Yes, I remember you said that earlier,” I said. “Interesting name. Is it real?”
“Gaius is a real name, yes,” he said with a smirk.
“You know what I mean,” I said.
“I do indeed, but I think we can deal with a bit of mystery for now.”
“I agree,” I told him.
“You look rather nervous,” he said.
I opened my mouth to speak, but a knock sounded at the door and he hopped up to open it. An exotically beautiful waitress strolled in with a tray.
“Evening, Gaius,” she told him with a seductive smile.
“Good evening, Lexus,” he nodded politely.
Lexus sauntered, with hips swaying, toward the kitchen counter where she set the tray. She spotted the two glasses on the counter and quickly salted their rims with the supplies on the tray and poured liquid from a pitcher into each one.
“Company this evening?” she asked.
Lexus scanned the room, and when she noticed me she looked confused.
“Her?” Lexus whispered, as if I somehow couldn’t hear her.
“Thank you, Lexus,” he said after clearing his throat in a warning manner.
“Sir,” she nodded curtly, leaving the tray on the counter and breezing past him coolly.
Once she had closed the door behind her, I asked, “What was that about?”
“Lexus seems to have taken a liking to me,” he commented. “Though I’ve never given her any encouragement whatsoever.”
She picked up the two glasses and brought one to me. I grabbed it from him and took a deep gulp, hoping it would ease my anxiety a bit. He took his seat across from me again and sipped his drink a few times before setting it onto the glass coffee table.
“So, Victoria,” he said. “What exactly were you expecting at Club Red?”
“I’m not sure, exactly,” I answered. “I told my friend I had sworn off relationships but missed a man’s touch, and she brought me here. She said I could find what I was looking for with no strings attached.”
“A hookup,” he commented. “That’s what you’re seeking?”
“I suppose you could put it that way,” I agreed.
“May I ask why you’ve sworn off relationships,” he asked, leaning forward intently.
I felt heat rising in my cheeks, and I said, “I just haven’t had luck with them.”
“A beautiful woman like you? I find it hard to believe you haven’t been snapped up.”
“To be honest, I’ve been cheated on many times, and it’s always been with a thinner woman,” I answered, probably with more bitterness in my voice than I intended.
“Thank you for being honest,” he said. “May I be honest with you now?”
“Please do.”
“I find those thinner women painfully boring,” he said. “I have always found curvaceous women deliciously tempting.”
The way he rolled the words deliciously tempting off his tongue sent a surge of shivering tingles through my shoulders and made my breath hitch in my throat. I swallowed hard and released my breath.
What could I say without revealing my excitement and seeming overly eager? I stared at him silently.
“What type of man do you find attractive?” he asked me.
You, I thought. Just you. Yep, only you.
“I like clean cut men who know how to dress with style,” I answered. “Dark hair, sexy eyes. A little mysterious.”
The corner of his mouth twitched as if he were suppressing a smile, and he said, “Why, Victoria, it sounds almost as if you’re describing me exactly.”
“Indeed,” I agreed.
“Well, then we’ve established that we at least find each other attractive,” he said. “That’s a start.”
“What do you find attractive about me?” I couldn’t resist asking.
“Where to start?” he asked, licking his lips. “I’ve already told you that I find your feminine curves quite… appealing. Your hips lead so temptingly to your waist, bringing my eyes up to the gorgeous swell of your breasts. But my eyes can’t stop there. They travel farther still, up to those full lips that must be so soft to kiss, and those eyes that hold so much mystery that I find myself desperate to learn more about you. The way those curls fall over your shoulders bring me down to those smooth shoulders that are begging to be kissed and nibbled. You, Victoria, are a work of art more priceless than any museum offering, and I could never grow tired of enjoying you in every possible way.”
Good lord. He was a smooth talker, if nothing else.
“Wow,” was all I could say.
“Your turn,” he said.
“For what?”
“What do you find attractive about me?”
Busted.
“I’m… not nearly as eloquent as you,” I said. “And that suit of yours hides a lot more than I’d like. But I love the way it clings to your body, and I can tell you must work out often. Your eyes are almost the color of honey, and they seem very sincere. And I love the way your jaw is cut in a masculine way without being overly harsh.”
“Very nice,” he said. “Is that all?”
“I must admit that I find your persona even more interesting than your appearance,” I admitted. “You’re quite mysterious, and that’s exciting to me.”
“Interesting,” he said. “It’s not often that I hear someone say they are more interested in me as a person than in my appearance.”
“So… what are we going to do tonight?” I asked abruptly.
“Tonight?�
�� he asked. “Tonight is just about getting to know one another on a more personal level. To be honest, I could never enjoy anything more intimate with someone I didn’t have a personal connection with.”
I hadn’t thought about this, but once I started mulling it over I realized I felt the same way. I don’t know what had possessed me to think I could just jump into bed with someone without getting to know him on at least some level. I guess desperation can blind you to things like that.
This, of course, was problematic for me. I came to Club Red for a no-strings-attached physical connection. I hadn’t expected to get to know anyone on a personal level, especially someone I found so attractive and charming. It was suddenly scaring me.
“I really think I better go,” I said, hopping to my feet suddenly and setting my glass on the coffee table with a bang.
“Is it something I said?” he asked, rising to meet me and grasping my elbow.
“I just… I wasn’t prepared for this.”
“For what?” he asked. “We’re just two people getting to know one another.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to avoid,” I told him, shaking my head in misery. “I don’t know what I came for, but I specifically wanted to avoid any kind of personal stuff. This is too much.”
I heard him calling after me as I dashed from the room, but I didn’t turn around. I fled down the hallway and back toward the relative safety of the thumping beat. My eyes scanned the crowd for Erica, and I located her sitting in one of the high-back booths with a guy whispering into her ear.
“I’m going home!” I shouted over the dull roar of the crowd and the music.
She whispered something to the guy and slid out of the booth, pulling me into a corner and asking, “Why, what happened?”
“He wanted to get to know me,” I said.
Her lips stretched into a thin line and she said, “Some people just don’t understand how Club Red works.”
“Neither do I, but all I know is I want to go home,” I told her. “You can stay if you want.”
“Just let me say goodbye and I’ll take you home,” she said.
I watched Erica slip back into the booth and whisper something into the guy’s ear. Disappointment clouded his face, but he nodded and kissed her on the cheek. She came back to my side and clutched my bicep, pulling me through the mass of people as we made our way into the chilly evening air.
The door closed, shutting out the overwhelming blare of music. It was nothing but a nondescript thumping beat now. Erica hailed the first taxi that came along, and we got into the back seat.
“Sunset Village Apartments on Green Park Avenue,” Erica told the driver.
As he pulled away from the curb, I glanced toward the door of the club, and Gaius was just bursting through it. His eyes frantically searched the sidewalk, and as his eyes caught mine, I turned away.
“You look really messed up, Tori,” Erica said. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered.
But the truth was, I wasn’t alright.
CHAPTER THREE
After that day, I decided to avoid Club Red. I was really shaken up by the fact that Gaius had wanted to get to know me on a personal level, as that was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid when I went there.
It had been nearly two weeks since I’d met him, but I just couldn’t get him out of my head. I was pissed at Erica for dragging me down there. I was pissed at Gaius for causing such a stir within me. But mostly I was pissed at myself for even giving him the opportunity.
While I was getting my degree in nursing, I was working part-time as a waitress at a local seafood place. They were just a slight step up from a decent chain restaurant, but nothing special. That’s why I was completely floored when Gaius walked through the door one Thursday night when I was working. It didn’t seem like the type of place he’d show up. I figured it was beneath him to visit such a place.
I noticed him first. He took my breath away the moment I saw him. He was dressed down in khaki pants and a plain white dress shirt with the top button open. Much more casual than the last time I’d seen him.
Then I saw her. She was a tall, leggy redhead with the tiniest waist I’d ever seen and a chest that had to be fake. I knew such a tiny woman could never grow a rack like that on her own.
Gaius had his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, and she leaned over and whispered something in his ear that made him laugh aloud. She hung her arm casually over his shoulder and smiled broadly as the maître d’ seated the pair. Thankfully, they weren’t seated in my section.
I headed into the back to find my manager, Margie.
“Margie, can I head out early tonight?” I asked.
“You don’t look so hot, sweetheart,” she commented. “Everything alright?”
“I’m not feeling well,” I told her truthfully.
“I can see that,” she said. “You look kind of green.”
“I need to go home,” I said, feeling the contents of my stomach swimming around like a vortex.
“Yeah, yeah, go on, honey,” she said gently. “Call me early tomorrow if you think you can’t make it in.”
“I will.”
I grabbed my jacket and purse and headed out the back door, taking huge, gasping breaths of the evening air. I leaned forward with my hands on my knees, concentrating on keeping my stomach from exploding.
I plucked my phone out of my purse and called a cab. I was ready to get away from this place – the sooner, the better. I headed around front to wait for the taxi, standing near the curb and willing it to hurry.
“Victoria?”
I heard the voice behind me, and I wanted to crawl under a rock and disappear. I tried to pretend I hadn’t heard him, hoping the taxi would show up and allow me to make an escape before he spoke again.
“Hey, Victoria,” he said. Too late.
I felt his hand on my elbow, and I turned to face him. He looked confused as I glared at him like I wanted to run him through with a saber.
“Oh, hello,” I said coldly.
“Are you ok?” he asked me.
I shrugged my elbow away from his grip and said, “Why don’t you ask your date?”
“My date?” he asked. “Oh, Svetlana?”
Svetlana. Even her name sounded like a supermodel. I turned away from him and held my fingers over my lips to restrain myself from puking on what looked to be his very expensive shoes.
“Svetlana is a client of my company,” he explained. “Did you think… Victoria, I told you, I’m not attracted to her type.”
“It’s hardly any of my business,” I said, crossing my arms and staring down the road. Where was that damned cab?
“Will you look at me?” he demanded, whirling me around and grabbing my shoulders.
I tried to shrug away from him again, but his hands clenched my shoulders so tightly I couldn’t escape. He pulled me close to him, his face just inches from mine. I could feel his honey-brown eyes seeking mine, but I stared stupidly down the road, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Look, I told you I don’t want any attachments,” I told him. “I’ve been hurt too many times. We already know too much about each other as it is.”
“Damn it, Victoria!” he snapped at me. “Will you at least give me a chance? I know you feel what I feel. There’s something there. Maybe it’s just a spark, but it can grow into something more if only you’ll let it!”
I breathed a sigh of relief as the cab pulled into the parking lot and up to the curb.
“My cab is here,” I pointed out. “If you’ll excuse me.”
I ducked away from his grasp and dove into the cab, slamming the door and locking it. Gaius pounded on the window, calling my name, but I commanded the cabbie to drive away quickly, which he did.
As we pulled onto the road, I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder at Gaius. I just couldn’t deal with whatever I might see.
He was right. I did feel something between us. It was absolu
tely undeniable. But I couldn’t let this go any further. I wouldn’t. I refused to go through yet another broken heart. And with a man like Gaius, how could it possibly lead anywhere else?
I called out sick the next day. I just couldn’t face him again, and I was in fear that he would come back looking for me. In fact, I had half a mind to just quit, but I had rent and bills to pay and my student loans wouldn’t cover them all. I had no choice but to stay – at least until I could find employment elsewhere.
I was getting ready for work Saturday night when Erica stopped by. It was unusual for her to come by without calling, so I was a bit concerned.
“Erica, are you ok?” I asked the minute I opened the door and saw her face.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered, barging into my apartment.
I closed the door behind her and locked it.
“Then what’s up?” I asked.
“I just had a run in with your mystery man,” she said. “From Club Red.”
In that instant, all of the air was sucked from my lungs, and all I could do was collapse weakly into the chair immediately behind me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I was stopped at a light on my way to Bart’s to pick up some wine,” she answered. “I heard a car honking and I glanced over and he’s in the lane beside me and he motions for me to roll down my window. When I did, he asked me if I was Victoria’s friend from the club.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about and rolled my window up,” she said.
“Thank god!” I said, exhaling a breath I’d been holding since I first sat down.
“But he followed me all the way to Bart’s.”
“Oh, you’re kidding!” I breathed. “Then what?”
“He told me he knew I was your friend, and asked if I’d please just give you a message,” she said.
She fished in her purse and found a crumpled piece of paper, which she’d obviously crammed in hastily, and handed it to me. I took it, but didn’t unfold it to read it.
“I didn’t read it,” she told me. “He scribbled it down on a notepad the cashier at Bart’s gave him. I think you should at least read it.”