Hot Pink Heels (The Street Series)

by Adrienne Dawn

  “What’s the matter, Jack?” Her voice lilted as she half turned in her seat, resulting in the skirt moving obscenely high. “It’s okay to look, you know. After all, your God gave me what you see, and you did pay for the w-h-o-l-e package,” she said, twisting even more so he could see straight up her pathetic excuse for a skirt.

  Jackson kept his eyes on the road, but she noticed his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. Satisfaction had Amanda brazenly moving closer, wanting to push him, letting her fingers roam to the back of his neck while she moved her chest tantalizingly close to brush his arm.

  “Amanda, for the love of—quit!” Jackson yanked the wheel, pulling up to the curb just one street over from her stop. “I may be a pastor, but I’m still a man! You’ve got to stop,” he said, banding her wrists with his hand as he gently, but firmly pushed her back into her seat, which put him slightly off balance over the stick shift.

  Amanda knew this game. Hard-to-get was one of her clients’ favorite games, although usually they wanted her to play that role. It’s fun to be on this end of the role playing. She might just make it to the silver screen yet!

  She took advantage of Jackson’s precarious position as he was leaning over her, his face mere inches away. Those smoky eyes were so close, and she wondered how he would taste. Shifting upward, she claimed his lips with her own, and her world exploded.

  Chapter 7

  Gasping, Jackson let go of her arms and moved back to his side of the car just as Amanda was about to deepen the kiss. They stared at each other in silence, Amanda’s fingertips moving to her mouth in surprise.

  Whoa, boy! You’ve got to watch this one—dang it! She’s quite a handful! Jackson contemplated her thoughtfully, bringing his breathing back under control. Ok, despite the less-than-conservative clothing and her chosen profession, she was an attractive girl, but Jackson had no business kissing her. A hooker. A pregnant hooker, who'd just tried to force herself on him. He could see how she could make money at this, because she was very good at what she did, what with those soft lips and long dark hair, not to mention that scandalous skirt—What are you doing?

  You aren’t suppose to be thinking about her that way, looking at her like that—and for Pete’s sake, wanting to touch her again! Jackson attempted to steel himself again, staring straight ahead. God, please forgive me, I’m really trying to behave here, but she is making it hard to see the way out of this one.

  “What’s the matter, Jack? After all, you did pay for me, you might as well enjoy me a bit,” she laughed enticingly, although her insides were quaking. She’d been what she considered a “professional” at this job for over a year and had never reacted quite like that to a man’s kiss.

  Of course, he hadn’t actually kissed her back, she reminded herself, but that simple act of their lips touching had sent fireworks off in the back of her mind and there was no other way to put it—she’d been rocked off her pretty pink heels!

  Amanda plastered a sneering smile on her face to hide the strange sensation before turning toward him again. “Are you afraid your wife will find out?” She let out another husky laugh designed to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Apparently, she’d hit her mark, because as she watched Jackson, all color drained from his face.

  Sucker punch right to the gut. So why did she feel like she was the one who’d been punched? It was true, he really was married, and the disgust welled up in her throat again.

  Jackson found himself unable to swallow and he could barely breathe. I haven’t even given a single thought to Clarissa since sometime yesterday. She’s probably furious with me for not checking in with her! Nah, if there’s one thing I know about Clarissa, it’s her forgiving spirit and calm demeanor.

  Her very calm demeanor. Sometimes too calm—he wanted some sort of spark, I mean, was that wrong? Get a hold of yourself, Jack. This has gone too far already. He rubbed his face with his hands and combed one hand roughly through his neatly groomed hair.

  Jackson took a deep breath and faced Amanda again. “I gave you the money because I wanted to help you, not because I wanted sexual favors from you,” he said calmly. “It’s yours to do with as you please, although I find it very sad to think about you using it to end a life.”

  “End a life?” Amanda asked, curious.

  “Yes, someone who has no choice in this matter,” he said, nodding toward her still-flat stomach, which was entirely too enticing. He looked away, but not before seeing her eyes go flat.

  “Like I had the choice every time Billy forced his way into my room and raped me?” Amanda gritted out, biting off the words like they were tough as nails to say. “Just let me out here,” she sighed, and hopped out of the car.

  “Amanda, don’t just walk away, please…” Jackson’s voice trailed off, but before she could completely cross the street, she felt herself being spun around. “Please,” he said. “I really do care about what happens to you.” He took her hand, pressing a small white card into her palm on top of the bills she still clutched. “If you need anything, just call.”

  Shrugging out of his light grasp, Amanda turned and started click clacking her way down the street, the cool autumn air raising goose bumps on her bare legs and arms.

  “And for what it’s worth, I’m not married,” Jackson shouted across the street. He wasn’t sure why he felt like he had to let her know that, but it just flew out of his mouth.

  Without turning around, Amanda flipped him off, but she cracked a small smile at his words. She stuffed the bills into the tiny pocket in her skirt, but she could still feel Jackson’s gaze boring holes into her back. The saucy step came back, all for his benefit, both to prove to him that she was fine and to remind him of what he’d just turned down.

  As she rounded the corner of North Vermont, she saw Billy waiting outside at her normal spot. The street and sidewalks were clear at this time of the day, and there was actually less chance of being heard on the street if Billy should decide to punish her for her tardiness.

  Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Amanda crossed the street and headed toward Billy, his money already in her hand. “There’s six hundred,” she said, slapping the money into his open palm. She started to breeze by, tossing her hair back in a way that said, “Don’t mess with me.”

  Billy laughed and stopped her cold with a simple phrase. “Where’s the rest?”

  Amanda turned toward him, knowing this exchange would result in either a beating or another unpleasant physical encounter like the one that had gotten her pregnant in the first place. “Billy, you know I gotta eat,” she started, throwing desperation into her voice. “I only kept a hundred, but you know I gotta eat.”

  “Screw that, bitch, and you know I will if you don’t give me the other $100 for my trouble with you,” he leaned closer, his rancid breath nearly making her gag. “You’ve been packing on some extra weight lately anyway, you don’t need to eat! You think I don’t notice when my girls start getting fat asses?”

  Quickly, she pulled out another bill, managing to conceal the rest of the thick stack in her skirt, but she knew if he was in one of his moods, he’d still take her back to her apartment and tear her place apart with a couple of his slimy “friends.”

  “That’s my girl,” Billy said, grabbing her butt as she walked away. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard his next words. “Be back down here tonight. You look like you can work just fine.”

  She nodded as she walked off, acknowledging his demand while a smile threatened to escape her lips. When she was in her apartment, Amanda closed the door and flipped the flimsy lock before spreading the remaining money out on the unmade bed. She found the hole in the mattress and ripped it open, pulling out the wad of cash she’d squirreled away for the past six months.

  Now, let’s see if I have enough to put both of my problems in the past and get out of here. She started stacking the bills, a nearly giddy smile on her face.

  Thirteen hundred. That’s all there was, even
after the $800 leftover from Jackson. Well, that’ll just have to be enough, she thought. She’d been pulling double duty for the past couple of weeks, doing “favors” for the Travelodge staff whenever she could just to make a few extra bucks here and there. It was stooping low, even for her, but once she’d found out she was pregnant, she knew she’d need the extra money to get rid of the baby.

  If she was very careful and she only ate when absolutely necessary, it should be enough. The nurse she’d talked to at the clinic had told her it’d be less than a thousand to take care of her little “problem,” and if she was lucky, she might be able to find a little place far enough away from Billy’s streets to keep her out of his filthy clutches for good.

  The other issue at hand was that if she wanted to get into the escort service, she knew she’d need a wardrobe adjustment. Her current three sets of clothing were barely enough to completely clothe her body if she wore them all at the same time, and the escort service required attire a bit more “discreet.” The outfit she’d taken from Laura was hardly appropriate attire for either job.

  Some guys honestly just wanted a pretty date on their arm for the evening, and she was more than willing to dress up and play nice if it meant more money, less bruises, and, let’s face it, less health risks.

  First things first, Amanda. Gathering the money, she stuffed it into the bottom of her faded green duffel bag and shoved her favorite sleep shirt plus her “hooker boots” in on top of Melanie’s t-shirt and jeans before pulling the drawstring tight. In her sparsely furnished bedroom, she pulled the chain for the single bulb dangling from the ceiling before moving to the closet. The familiar roaches scattered from the light, giving her more reason to celebrate her move.

  She felt along the inside edges of the closet for the piece of wood she’d loosened. “Ouch!” She gasped when she felt the sharp point, but she smiled in victory as she pulled the small piece of wood away from the molding. A thin silver necklace dropped into her open hand and she slipped it into the little pocket of her miniskirt before sticking her finger in her mouth to nurse the injured digit.

  The necklace was the only thing she’d saved from her former life and the only reason she still had it was because she’d been wearing it the day she’d been robbed at the bus station. It had been a gift from her grandma for her sixteenth birthday, and it still meant a lot to her, although she had no idea if her Grandma Rosie was even still alive.

  Let’s move, girl. Time to get out of this hellhole and into another, she sighed inwardly before carefully replacing the wood. Amanda didn’t touch anything else in the apartment after scooping up her duffel bag. She wanted it to look like she was still living here, because maybe it would give her just a bit of a head start when Billy came looking for her.

  The other girls wouldn’t know what had happened, and to save face, Billy would concoct some tale about her disobedience that would have them believing the worst about her fate. She felt bad that she couldn’t at least tell Whitney the truth, but the less Whit knew, the better chance she had of being safe from Billy’s fists when he came looking for Amanda. She’d been the closest thing to a friend that Amanda had had in the past two years.

  The chances were slim that Billy’s baboon-faced friends were up at this time of the day, but it was getting close to noon and she knew she’d run into them if she didn’t get going. No reason to wait around, Amanda. She walked to the door, opened it, and refused to look back into the rooms she’d called home for nearly two years.

  Crossing the street and darting around the corner, she breathed a sigh of relief but kept moving quickly. She needed to be several blocks away before she could completely relax.

  Jackson looked down at his hands, remembering how small Amanda’s wrists had looked when he held them. Right before that crazy girl kissed me, he thought, attempting to clamp down on the memory of her body pressing close to his.

  He’d taken the car to get it detailed before returning it to Harry, the lead pastor. Harry would’ve been in for a shock if he’d asked how Jackson’s run went the night before. He knew Jackson had been heading to that area of town to invite homeless people and street girls to the new church they were starting a few blocks away, but Jackson was strangely silent when Harry questioned him on whether the run was a success or not. Harry didn’t press the matter, to Jackson’s relief.

  He’d lent his car to Jackson, because he knew that Jackson would get much more attention with the late-model silver Camaro than the 1992 faded blue Focus he owned, and it had certainly worked like a charm.

  However, now Jackson was in an unsettling position. He felt guilty for allowing Amanda to return to her abusive lifestyle after meeting her, and especially after finding out she was pregnant. She’d made it clear, however, that she didn’t want his help or his opinion on what to do about the baby.

  He knew he’d done what he could, and he sincerely hoped the money had been enough to keep her out of trouble with Billy, at least for today. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind to focus on the task at hand. He was supposed to be looking at the budget, searching for spots where they could downsize a bit in order to fund the warehouse project.

  The numbers on the computer screen might as well have been hieroglyphics, for all he cared. God, what do I do? I know you say we’re suppose to do good toward all men, and I certainly don’t care if she’s a hooker or the lead singer in the band at church, but she told me she didn’t need my help. What’s the next step?

  Jackson stared at the computer screen as he contemplated the situation, tapping his fingers on the desk in frustration. Maybe he’d done all he could do.

  Chapter 8

  The next day, Jackson came out of church, ready for another pot roast lunch with his parents, but Clarissa stopped him on his way to the car. “Jackson? I haven’t heard from you in three days!” She moved closer to him, blocking his view of the church as he watched for his parents.

  “Is everything okay? I mean, I thought we were going to go bowling or something last night,” she said, sounding a bit disappointed.

  “Aw, man, Clarissa, I’m so sorry I forgot all about that,” Jackson apologized. “How can I make it up to you?”

  Clarissa smiled demurely, “Oh Jackson, that’s okay. I’m sure you had a good reason for it. Don’t worry about it. I did, however, make one of my famous blueberry pies last night, and I’d be happy to share some with you later this afternoon or evening.”

  “You know I can’t resist your blueberry pies, Rissa,” he said, smiling at her. He waved to someone behind her and she turned to see his parents crossing the parking lot.

  “Hi Chuck, hi Laura,” she smiled at them. Laura embraced her, as she did everyone. Jackson knew they were fond of Clarissa, but did not share his enthusiasm for their “friendship,” so he was surprised when his mother asked Clarissa to join them for lunch.

  “I’d love that,” Clarissa exclaimed. “I’ll just run home and grab that pie and I’ll be right over.” Smiling, she turned for her sporty little red Miata.

  Jackson looked at his mom, his eyebrow raised. “You don’t usually invite her to come over,” he said.

  Laura smiled. “Well, one thing Amanda’s presence reminded me of is that we all need Jesus, and we all need friends,” she said. “Clarissa is still dealing with her loss, and although I’m not sure she’s the one for you, she does need family right now. Besides, you know she reminds me…”

  “Of Melanie. I know. Thanks Mom,” Jackson said, leaning over to place a soft kiss on her weathered cheek. “Let’s go. I’m starving, and I’m pretty sure I hear your pot roast calling my name.”

  Laura chuckled as she linked arms with her son and headed toward the car. Whether it was Clarissa or someone else, someone was certainly going to be a lucky lady when they finally captured her son’s heart. She knew he was fond of Clarissa, but he was not a man in love, of that much she was sure.

  Amanda had a slight bounce in her step. She was finally on the right track, she just knew
it. She had a job, an apartment and soon all her troubles would be over. Ok, well, she finally had gotten a job with the escort service and she had a one-room apartment that was all her own. It wasn’t beautiful, but it was definitely a step up from where she had been when she was with Billy and for the first time in over a year, she had real hope that she would eventually make it to the big screen.

  As far as the baby was concerned, she had an appointment in the morning and then everything would be fine. By this time tomorrow, she would be problem free. Her new job started in four days and she was sure she would be up for it by then, because the procedure was not that big of a deal at this stage of the pregnancy.

  The advance she’d gotten from the escort service had barely been enough to secure the little room with the tiny bathroom, but it was all hers. She’d purchased two outfits and some more sensible shoes plus a small amount of food for her tiny kitchenette, but she was hoarding the rest of her money. She had a thousand dollars stuck under the thin mattress that came with the furnished room and she would take that to her appointment tomorrow.

  Hopefully it would be enough, but she would take her remaining $200 just in case. She really needed that money for the rest of her new wardrobe, so she hoped nothing else came up.

  Amanda was wearing one of her new outfits, complete with her new black heels. The two-inch heels were a welcome change for her aching feet, despite the fact that she really did love those pink stilettos. The simple black skirt was a tasteful knee-length and the hot pink shirt buttoned primly up to her collarbone and was both long and opaque, while still a nod to her love of bright colors.

  It had been a long time since she’d worn so much clothing at one time, but as she pulled the door of the diner open, she noticed appreciative glances from the men. It was a testament to the fact that she didn’t have to bare all to be attractive to the opposite sex. With her confidence boosted, Amanda headed straight for the counter and asked for the manager.