Hot Pink Heels (The Street Series)

by Adrienne Dawn

Jackson had been turned on all right, but when his hand touched her stomach, he stopped immediately. He’s that disgusted with what I did. He hates me for it, and he hates himself for kissing me because of what I did to my baby.

  Chapter 15

  That next morning, Amanda was shopping for a few items to help complete her newly required wardrobe before she had to be at the diner for the lunch shift. So far, she wasn’t having any luck. Or is it just that you can’t get Jackson out of your mind? The way he kissed you back like he couldn’t live without you, the way you felt wanted and safe, all at the same time?

  Shaking her head, she looked at the shoe in her hand. It was gorgeous, but the price on the bottom had her catching her breath and carefully returning it to the display. She really needed to pay attention. She only had about an hour and she had to get some serious pieces that would be the core of her closet.

  Turning from the accessories, Amanda focused on a rack of colorful shift dresses, but she knew she needed something more neutral to be the centerpiece. The material was right, the silky chiffon slinking through her hands. There it was, the same dress in black. That’s what she needed: a more tasteful version of the little black dress.

  There were only two left on the rack, and she prayed one of them would be in her size. Size 0, ugh, please. Wait, this one is a size 6! I might be able to make it work somehow. Amanda whisked into the fitting room and slipped the soft material over her head. Facing the mirror, she saw it was not as close as she’d hoped. Her breasts, which had been almost spilling over her bra last week, were pretty much back to normal, which made the shift-style several inches too large on top.

  Wanting a different view, Amanda stepped out to see her reflection in the 3-way mirror. Her face was pale, but what else was new? The black dress was dreamy, except for the loose fit on top. It hit her just above the knees and was both tasteful and narrow, with the long slit up the back allowing for movement and adding the zing she needed.

  Speaking of movement, she noticed a woman watching her from the counter. Great, they probably think I don’t belong in here. On the contrary, as she spun slowly in front of the mirror, the honey-kissed blonde approached her, the perfect pair of black heels in her hand.

  “These will go with that dress and will really sex it up,” said the blonde. “That dress is just about perfect. Did you know we offer complimentary alterations? We could take in the top in no time and you’ll be on your way to a cocktail party before you can snap your fingers.”

  Amanda was silent. She couldn’t believe the woman was actually speaking to her and not in a way that made her want to run from the store. She was almost having fun. The only thing missing from this shopping trip was…her mom.

  The last time she’d shopped, really shopped for decent clothing, she’d been with her mom. They took those monthly shopping dates seriously, challenging each other to find the cutest or prettiest outfit from top to bottom, including accessories. They gave each other a different budget each time, but it was always a contest to see who could find the better deal. Mom always won. She stared over the saleswoman’s shoulder, remembering.

  What Amanda wouldn’t give for one of those shopping trips with her mom right now. She’d love her opinion of this dress, and she’d find heels to match that looked just as good and were half the price. And what advice would her mom give when it came to the baby, the abortion, her choices and Jackson?

  To both her and the saleswoman’s surprise, Amanda suddenly burst into tears.

  Jackson had left half a dozen messages for Clarissa, but he knew he needed to see her face-to-face to deliver the decision he’d made on the night of the fundraiser. Breaking off the relationship was the right thing to do. It was going nowhere and that was unfair to Clarissa. Especially when he feared he might be falling for someone else. There, you finally admitted it, you big idiot.

  He’d gotten himself into a hell of a mess, and Jackson was under no assumptions that it was anyone’s fault but his own. He’d have to figure it out, but he had to start with Clarissa.

  Her little red car was in the driveway, so he knew she was home. Ignoring the doorbell, he knocked lightly, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear. That would give him time to come up with a better way to break the news to Rissa.

  Although it was common for the housekeeper, Eliza, to answer the door, this time Clarissa was on the other side when it opened. Jackson smiled, albeit weakly, while Clarissa remained silent. She stepped back, allowing him to enter, but he hesitated.

  “C’mon, Jackson,” she sighed. “Let’s go to the back veranda and talk.” Leading the way, she called out instructions. “Eliza, we could use some of your peach iced tea out on the garden veranda.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Eliza said, appearing from nowhere. She was almost scary silent as she moved about Clarissa’s home, quietly keeping order in the large rooms. “I’ll bring it right out,” she said, winking at Jackson.

  She probably figures I’m here to spend time with Clarissa, but she has no idea what’s coming. She’s made no bones about her excitement for the day we finally marry and I move in here at the big house. Jackson swallowed the lump in his throat, finding it had somehow gotten bigger, although he’d thought it wasn’t possible.

  “I can’t wait to rock your babies, Mr. Jackson,” she’d told him on more than one occasion. “You make beautiful babies with Ms. Clarissa.”

  Jackson stepped out onto the veranda, which overlooked the fragrant gardens and the sparkling pool. He’d enjoyed some great times here, mostly as a kid, as Clarissa’s parents had hosted youth pool parties several times every summer. He and Clarissa had been thick as thieves back then, and he supposed it was just natural that they would fall into a dating relationship after high school.

  Clarissa indicated his chair and they both took a seat at the wrought iron table, the bright blue umbrella matching Clarissa’s eyes. As she looked at him, he realized she knew. She knew why he was there, but it didn’t make this any easier.

  After Eliza deposited their tall glasses of tea complete with the little umbrella and set down the silver plate loaded with her famous sugar cookies, she smiled at Jackson before departing inside on silent feet.

  Jackson sipped his tea to wet his suddenly parched throat. When he set the glass down, he looked up and was startled to see a single tear making it’s way down Clarissa’s cheek. Without thinking, Jackson leaned forward to gently wipe it away, but again, he was surprised as Clarissa jerked back before he could touch her.

  “Jackson, don’t,” she said, her voice wavering on a thin line of control. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Just listen to me.”

  He was unsure of how to proceed, so he gave her the floor as requested.

  “Jackson, I’ve loved you since we were kids,” she started. Jackson felt like a heel. “I’m not saying that to make you feel bad. I just want you to know, I had a crush on you from the start, and it grew stronger through high school, even though I knew you probably looked at me more like a sister or friend rather than a girlfriend.”

  As she struggled with the next words, Jackson felt like he should say something. Anything, Jack, say anything! I can’t stand seeing her this way, God.

  “Rissa, I,” he stopped when she held up a hand.

  “Please, let me continue,” Clarissa said softly. “And when my parents…when they died, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through, but I made it because you were there for me. I see now it’s because you are such a good friend, but at the time, it felt to me like we belonged together. I held on to you for way too long after that, even when I realized you felt nothing for me romantically. I just couldn’t let go of one more person that I cared about.”

  He couldn’t stand it, so he took her hand and this time she didn’t resist. “Rissa, Rissa, I’m sorry,” Jackson said. “I do care for you, you have to know that. I do love you.”

  Clarissa looked into his eyes. “But not the ‘I-want-to-marry-you’ love that I feel for you,” she said
sadly. “And it’s okay, I think I’ve known it for a long time, I just couldn’t accept it. The other night, I saw the look on your face when you were dancing with that girl, and I knew I’d never seen that look when you’ve held me in your arms.”

  “Rissa, it’s not like that with Amanda and I,” he stumbled, not knowing what to say next. If he and Amanda weren’t like that, then what were they? He couldn’t get Amanda out of his mind, couldn’t stop thinking about her kisses, and no matter how hard he tried to remind himself she gave herself to other men for a living, he was drawn to her. The realization hit him like the slap Amanda had delivered on the night of the benefit. He was falling for a hooker, and he was falling hard.

  Amanda’s cheeks flamed as she remembered the incident in the department store. It was just a few hours ago, but she was trying to forget it as quickly as possible. She had work to do, including getting the burgers out to table 23 before they got irate. The kitchen was running slow and customers were getting antsy.

  Why did I suddenly miss my mom so much? The desire to call home and hear her mom’s cheery “hello” or her dad’s booming, “Knox residence” was almost overwhelming. The tears had been a shock, but not as much as her longing for home. For the first time in over six months, Amanda was reminded of everything she’d run from and she found herself questioning her decision.

  “Hey, toots, I’m not paying you to stand around,” Sal broke into her reverie and she apologized as she grabbed the warm plates and headed out to the group at table 23.

  When she’d satisfied their drink refills, Amanda moved over to clear the next table, slipping the two-dollar tip into her apron. It was a lot less than she made from one night on the street, but all the customer had requested was ketchup for his fries. She was nearly finished with her shift, and she had almost $30 in her pocket from tips.

  That money, along with what was left of the money from Phil, was going to be enough to get her a decent haircut and color very soon. She’d been hacking at her own hair for over a year, just keeping it trimmed and past her shoulder blades.

  Maybe if she got the haircut, she’d have enough confidence to make a call home. It might be time to let her parents know she wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. The old feelings were still there at the surface and Amanda had to force herself to relax and smile as she took orders from a young couple. Maybe she would call home. Or maybe not.

  Clarissa had been so forgiving, just as she usually was, which only served to make Jackson feel worse. He’d gone over to her house, planning to let her down gently, but she had made it so much easier on him than he expected. He’d expected the fiery woman he’d seen show up last night, but that wasn’t who Clarissa normally was.

  When he’d gotten lost in his thoughts about Amanda, Clarissa reached over and covered his hand with her own. She squeezed once and then continued. “Jackson, I will love you forever, and I hope you will still be my friend, but I know now I have to let you go, because your heart doesn’t belong to me,” said Clarissa. “I don’t know if it belongs to this Amanda woman either, but I do know it’s not mine. Thank you for coming over. Eliza will show you out.” She squeezed his hand again and then walked calmly inside.

  By the time Jackson had turned and followed her into the house, she’d disappeared up the sweeping staircase. Eliza stood wringing her hands and waiting for Jackson. “Mr. Jackson, what you do?” Eliza shook her finger at him. “Ms. Clarissa, she’s been upset these days. I say to myself it must be your fault and now I see her crying when she comes from talking to you.”

  “Eliza, I’m sorry, but I really can’t talk right now,” Jackson said, touching her shoulder as he walked by. “I have somewhere I have to be.” Jackson was afraid he knew exactly where he wanted to go and it probably wasn’t in his best interest. So, instead of heading for Amanda’s apartment, Jackson started his car and pointed it toward the office.

  Amanda stepped out of the salon feeling like a million bucks. Well, actually, she felt like about $113.83, since that’s what the hair cut, color and style had cost her, but it was worth it. She loved the blonde streaks that were back in her hair, along with the bouncy length that was just touching her shoulders.

  The cornflower blue blouse she wore complemented her cream-colored slacks, and though it was a sheer, gauzy material, the tank top undershirt that came with it was plenty opaque. With three days of working at the diner under her belt, Amanda felt like she was finally starting to make some headway.

  Her tips had steadily increased and she was already beginning to figure out who the regulars were. Her second client from the escort service was taking her out for cocktails with a business client and his wife, followed by dinner and dancing and possible after hours entertainment, a.k.a. sex. Even though she wasn’t looking forward to that part of the evening, she hoped that the tip would more than make up for what she’d be doing. It couldn’t be worse than when she was hooking.

  Amanda’s hair was straightened and flowing free, the blonde highlights catching the attention of every male in the vicinity. Unbeknownst to her, she looked like a walking advertisement for the salon she’d just left, with her shiny hair and the nearly couture outfit she was wearing accenting her swinging gait as she continued down the sidewalk.

  Maybe she would give her parents a call tonight, if for no other reason than to hear their voices on the other end of the line. She could hang up and they’d assume it was a wrong number, but if they saw it on the caller ID, she knew they’d wonder if it was Amanda.

  “…so that’s everything,” said Jackson. It felt good to tell someone, but he wasn’t sure what he was asking Harry for. Was he asking for his blessing, for him to tell Jackson what to do, or for Harry’s permission to forget about Amanda?

  Harry didn’t say anything for a moment, and Jackson was nervous. He deeply respected Harry, and he was not sure what Harry was thinking at all. Was his job in danger, now that he’d admitted things had gotten a little physical between him and Amanda?

  When he finally looked up from the spot he’d been studying on the floor, he saw Harry’s shoulders shaking. What in the world? “Harry, are you—wait, do you think this is funny?”

  “Ooh, oh, yeah, I’m sorry, but this is just too…” Harry lost control again, tears running down his face. “So, ooh, okay, so you’re telling me you’re in love with a hooker?”

  Whatever he’d expected from Harry, it certainly wasn’t this! Jackson was torn between the obviously amusing predicament he’d gotten into and anger with Harry for treating it so lightly.

  “Okay, seriously, I’m sorry, I really am trying to get myself under control,” Harry snickered. He straight-faced it for nearly 10 seconds before a snort escaped. “So that’s why my car smelled like lemons when you gave it back to me?”

  “Harry, honestly, I just laid my heart bare in front of you and I really am asking for your advice,” Jackson said, a little frustration seeping through. “I really and truly just pulled over to invite the ladies to the service we’re starting next month and before I knew it, there was a girl falling into my—your car, an ambulance, a pimp and words flying out of my mouth that seemed out of control.”

  “Jackson, I really do think you did the right thing in coming to me for advice, except for the fact that I don’t really have any standard advice to give in this situation,” said Harry.

  “I know this sounds like a B movie plot, but I just don’t know what to do,” Jackson said. “I thought I loved Clarissa and I really thought we’d settle down and get married someday, but after I met Amanda, I realized that what I’d had with Clarissa was just a great friendship. I’m also trying not to be that person that sticks my nose in the air to keep Amanda at arm’s length just because of her past. I know God can forgive anyone for anything, but Amanda’s not anywhere near that point right now. As it is, she can barely stand me.”

  “Jack, I really don’t think you are the type of person to look at someone’s past when you’re considering a relationship with them,” Ha
rry said with a smile. “That’s not the part that’s got me worried. Right now I’m worried about Amanda. Is she in a safe place?”

  “Well, I think it’s better than where she was, but her pimp could still find her and mess her up, and I really know nothing about this escort service she’s working for now,” Jackson said. “The only connection I have is that Phil brought her to the fundraiser a few nights ago.”

  “What if her pimp finds her?” Harry voiced the question that had been haunting Jackson for the past few days. The answer could very well be more than he could stand.

  Chapter 16

  Well, things didn’t seem like they would be getting too physical with this client, and for that she was thankful, but otherwise, Amanda was bored almost to tears. She felt glamorous and beautiful in her black dress, but the men were carrying on a conversation that was far over her head.

  She brushed imaginary crumbs from the bottom of the dress as she snuck a glance at the other woman at the table. She looks just as bored as I am, Amanda thought. “Myra, I have to make a trip to the ladies’ room,” Amanda said as politely as she could. “Would you like to come with me?”

  The other woman almost leaped from her chair in her excitement to get away from the table, and she and Amanda shared a smile as they headed toward the back of the posh restaurant. Amanda held the door for Myra, who led the way into the sitting area of the restroom.

  Myra offered Amanda a cigarette, which she refused, but she did join the other woman on the settee. “So, Mandy, where did Jonathan meet you? You two make a great couple, you know,” Myra said, flicking her ashes into the nearby ashtray.

  “Thanks,” Amanda said, smiling at her own inside joke. “We met a few days ago at a bar, and we just hit it off.” Her standard story was one that each client would know, so she wasn’t worried that Jonathan wouldn’t be able to back her up. Besides, Myra didn’t suspect anything.