by KJ Bell
My mother faked her entire life for her career. I can pretend for a few months until things smooth over. It can’t be that difficult. The only reason I even have her phone number is because she’s an assistant to a large client of Gibson’s. Her ending up in my bed was a coincidence. I grab my cell and dial her number. She answers on the first ring. Eager is perfect for what I have in mind.
“Hey, Larissa, it’s Aidan.”
“Well, at least you remembered my name.”
“You’re kind of hard to forget.”
“Why are you calling? Did I leave something at your place? Keep it.”
“I was calling to see if you’d have dinner with me tonight?”
“Dinner? Are you delusional?”
“I was a jerk the other morning. I’d like to apologize.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes. Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Larissa opens the door and smiles, her lips covered in cherry-red lipstick. It has no effect on me. Her close-fitting black dress hugs her hips and defines her waist. Her auburn hair is swept off her shoulders into a bun. She’s the epitome of refined class and elegance, everything I should be seen with. The spark is missing, though, and that’s what I want. The raging fire I had with Maria … until I acted like a total dipshit.
“You look beautiful.” I’m being truthful, but the compliment isn’t as sincere as she takes it.
“Thank you.”
She steps into the hall and locks her door.
We drive in silence. Once we’re at the restaurant, I do all the gentlemanly things I’m expected to: hold doors, pull out her chair, and make polite conversation. Her laughter annoys me. She talks mostly about herself. Her efforts to touch me inadvertently are obvious. She’s a Barbie doll, and I wish she’d sit quietly like one.
After her third martini she asks, “Am I ever going to get that apology?”
I sit back in my chair and turn to the side, crossing my legs and folding my hands together on my knee. “I thought that’s what this was.”
She leans forward, purposely exposing her cleavage, and runs a finger over the rim of her martini glass. “Was it?”
I down the remaining Scotch in my glass and hold it in the air for a refill. When the waitress acknowledges me, I set the glass down. Red is waiting for me to comment. I say nothing until my Scotch arrives. I sip the amber liquid slowly, watching her squirm under my gaze.
“I should apologize, but I won’t say it.” She starts to speak, but I cut her off. “We both know why you went home with me the other night.”
“We do?” she asks, attempting to feign innocence. She’s a total bull-shitter, but you can’t fool one, especially one that’s mastered the art of the game.
“You crave power and money, both of which I have, and you thought if we had sex, I would want you for more than one night. Am I close?”
She doesn’t deny it and inquires, “What is this all about, Aidan?”
I sip my Scotch again while the waitress clears our plates. Once she’s gone, I lean across the table and take Larissa’s hand. The gesture isn’t meant to be romantic, and I squeeze hard. “I need a girlfriend.”
“Are you asking me?” I nod, and her jade-green eyes narrow. “How romantic.”
I release her hand and laugh. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly the romantic type. I’m not here to woo you and make you feel special. You’re simply a commodity I’m looking to acquire. I need a girlfriend in public, and you want a boyfriend to brag about.”
She twirls a lock of fiery hair around her finger, her expression contemplative. She’ll say yes. I know I have the right girl for the job. “You’re suggesting a business transaction?”
“I’m suggesting that you be my girlfriend, because it looks good for my image, yes. And I’ll pay you well for it.”
She holds her hand out, staring at her long red fingernails, her eyebrows raised.
“You’re going to have to pay well. I have healthy spending habits and mounting debt that needs eliminating.”
Blankly, I say, “Done.”
“For how long?” she asks.
“At least six months.”
“Strictly professional, then?”
“Yes.”
She leans over the table and whispers seductively, “No sex?”
I grin and lick my teeth. My fingers pinch her chin. “Sex is a requirement of the job. If I want to fuck, we will.”
She rights herself properly in the chair and straightens her skirt. “And if you don’t, am I free to have sex with someone else?”
“I don’t care what you do, but if a picture of you and another man ends up in the tabloids, you won’t be paid a dime. This is about making me look good.”
She lifts her glass and drains the remainder of her martini. “I have to think about it.”
“You have two days,” I say flatly.
“What happened to make you so cold?”
Without answering her, I throw some cash on the table and leave the restaurant alone.
It’s been two weeks since Tug made me feel more like a prostitute than any of the men at the club ever had. I haven’t been to work since, and this morning my boss called to let me know I’m fired, which means I’ll have to dip into funds that I have no business spending in order to survive. But I can’t go back to that life.
I enter the club to pick up my things. My boss waves me over to the bar where he’s seated. He’s a good guy, American, probably hiding out in Mexico to avoid paying child support or taxes, as most are. He’s always been nice to me and fairer than he is with most of the girls.
“Hey, Mark.”
He smiles. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You never were cut out for this.”
“I know. I was so close to finishing school, though.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Take the final semester off and work two jobs until I figure something else out.”
He hands me a thick envelope.
“What’s this?”
“It’s from the other night. I didn’t even take a cut. It should help.”
“How much is it?”
“Two thousand. That guy really wanted you.”
I nearly choke. The amount makes the other night hurt that much more.
“Listen, if you need anything, you call me, okay?”
“Okay.”
He laughs softly and gets up from the bar stool. “Hmm … I know you won’t, but you can.”
“Thank you.”
I hug my boss and pack my things from the dressing room into a backpack.
As I exit the club, I run smack dab into a familiar face. “Brady, hi. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. Do you have time to talk?”
“Um … sure, but not here.”
We walk the strip for several blocks without speaking. Brady stops at the next corner. His brow wrinkles when he looks at me.
“Look, Monica…”
“It’s Maria,” I correct him.
“Right. I want to apologize for how my brother treated you.”
I shake my head and smile. “You’re not the one who needs to apologize.” The words come out sounding rude, but I can’t help it. His family constantly trying to smooth over Tug’s mistakes is irritating. Maybe if they quit enabling him, he’d grow up.
“No, but I wanted to anyway,” Brady says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know you’ve been looking for a way out of the club for a while, and I have a job for you, if you’re interested.”
Excitement zings through me, but I hide my surprise. “Well, since I quit the club two weeks ago, I’ll take anything I can get.”
Brady smiles. “I invested in a restaurant in the Gas Lamp with my friend, Davey. We need someone to deal with the waitresses, scheduling, and all of the tedious things Davey doesn’t want to be bothered with. You’d be on the floor, making sure everything runs smoothly. It’s upscale, so you’l
l have to cover the tattoos with sleeves, but it pays well.”
“I’ll take it,” I say without hesitation.
His deep green eyes smile. “Good. You can start tomorrow. Davey will be expecting you.”
“You won’t be there?”
“Nope, I’m just an investor. I go on the road in a few days, and I have a lot to do before we leave.”
“Right. I forgot you’re a big-time rock star now. Does Davey know about me?”
“Yes, but don’t worry. Davey’s a good guy with a past that makes you look like an angel. He’ll flirt too much, but he’s harmless.”
I reach up and hug him. He hugs me back, which makes me smile. Although I used to have a huge crush on him, I’m not interested in Brady in a sexual way, but I’ve always thought of us as friends, and today confirms that we really are.
“I can’t thank you enough for this, Brady.”
“Just do a good job. That’s all the thanks I need.”
“I won’t let you down. Oh, can you do me a favor?” I ask, holding the envelope of cash Mark gave me out to him.
“Sure.”
“Can you give this to Tug? Tell him I don’t want it.”
His grin is knowing, and I hate seeing it. “Should I ask?”
“Please don’t.”
“It’s actually too bad you two didn’t meet at another time.”
“Why’s that?”
“I can see the two of you together.”
His words hurt, and I wave a hand in the air. “Let’s not talk about him, okay? Your brother is one of my least favorite people.”
“Right. I have to get going anyway. I’m glad you accepted, and I’ll see you soon.”
We hug again and he leaves me on the corner, feeling a tiny amount of renewed hope.
The last two weeks at work went better than I expected. The board seems happy that I’ve been photographed having dinner with a steady girlfriend. My family and I are getting along remarkably well, and other than the empty void in my heart, life is manageable without drinking an entire bottle of rum. I can’t stop thinking about the envelope Maria gave Brady to return to me, containing every last penny I paid to spend the night with her. She completed the job and stayed with me for longer than required, and I know she needs the money, yet she gave it back. The only plausible conclusion is she did it as a gesture to let me know she would never forgive me, not that I deserve anything from her, but I can’t stop thinking about her.
I pick up Drew for another sleepover so Tori and Brady can have some alone time before the band hits the road. Tori and I chat while she gathers his things. Her laughter makes me smile. I follow her to the kitchen, and she sets Drew’s bag on the island.
“I kind of like this,” she says timidly, as if knowing she’s treading on fragile ground.
“What? Me not making you miserable?” I joke, and love the smile that sweeps over her face.
“Ha-ha! Very funny. It’s nice to have my Tuggy back.”
“Keep calling me Tuggy, and I might have to go back to hating you.”
She grips the edge of the counter with one hand. With the other she holds her abdomen and winces.
“Oh, God.”
“What is it?” I ask. “Are you okay? Should I take you to the hospital?”
She smiles and lets go of the counter. “No, no, I’m fine. The baby kicked, that’s all. This one’s going to be a punter. Come here, feel it.”
I hold my hands up. “No, I’m good.”
She rolls her eyes and waves me over. “Get over here.”
Reluctantly, I go to her. She grabs my hand and pushes my palm into the side of her belly. It’s firmer than I expected. A few uncomfortable seconds go by, and then I feel a small jerk beneath my hand.
“That is wild, and a little creepy.”
“So cool, right?” Tori smiles.
I bend down and talk to her belly. “Hey, tiny person, it’s Uncle Tug.”
“Awkward,” Drew says as he walks into the kitchen.
“Drew, come here, you have to feel this,” Tori tells him.
I place his hand where mine had been. A couple of seconds later, his face lights up.
“Whoa. Is that my baby brother?”
“Is it a boy?” I ask, confused. Last I heard, they didn’t know the sex yet.
“Yes!” Drew shouts at the same time Tori says, “We don’t know yet.”
“It is a brother,” Drew insists. “I’m positive.”
Tori smiles and hands me his bag. “He’s impossible. Have fun with him.”
Drew and I walk into the lobby of my building, and I spot an extremely irritated Larissa, sitting in one of the chairs. I’d forgotten that we had plans for dinner tonight. She stands, thrusting her hands onto her hips, and tapping her pointy-toed stiletto on the marble floor.
“You could’ve texted if you were going to be twenty minutes late.”
I don’t like her scolding tone but refrain from saying anything, since Drew is with me.
“I forgot.”
“If this is going to work, you might pretend you actually care.”
I take a step closer to her and say in her ear, “Don’t push it. I’m a payday, not a considerate, loving boyfriend. Remember that.”
“I don’t know why I put up with your shit,” she snaps.
“Watch your mouth in front of my nephew.”
“Hi, I’m Andrew.”
She glances down at him briefly and then returns her icy stare to me. “Are we having dinner or not?”
Dinner with my “girlfriend” and spending time with my nephew should be brownie points in the press.
“Yes. Let’s go up. I need to change and put Drew’s things away.”
As I turn, she pulls my arm. “Is he coming to dinner?”
I look between the two of them and wonder how a mature woman can be more of a whiner than the six-year-old boy at her side.
“No, I’m going to leave a six-year-old home alone.”
She doesn’t laugh, but Drew does. I want to high-five him, but she’s clearly pissed, and I think better of it.
“Don’t you have a sitter?” she asks, sounding appalled.
“I didn’t invite him over to pawn him off on a sitter.”
“Fine!” She huffs and stomps off toward the elevators.
Drew nudges me. I look down at him and shrug.
We go up to my place, and before I take a shower I whisper to Drew, “Be nice to her.”
He waggles his eyebrows, and I have a feeling Red is in for it.
After I shower, I crack the bathroom door to let the steam out while I dress. I hear Larissa ask Drew, “What game are you playing?”
“Game?” Drew responds.
“Yes, game. On your tablet?”
“Oh, it’s a reader.”
“A what?” Larissa says. I realize she sounds kind of ditzy when she’s not on her back screaming my name.
“You read books on it,” Drew informs her. “Do you know how to read?” he asks, and I hold back a laugh.
“Yes, I know how to read, but I don’t choose to unless I have to.”
“That’s too bad. It could do wonders for your limited vocabulary.”
“You little —”
She stops abruptly when she sees me enter the room.
Two waitresses called out sick tonight. I need to have a serious talk with Davey about hiring girls with experience, and preferably girls whose heads don’t whistle in a crosswind. I’m doing waitress duty for the night, and we’re swamped.
As I finish taking an order and glance at the door, my night goes from a little crappy to a heaping pile of shit. Seriously, this night could not get any worse. A dark cloud just covered the restaurant and my only hope is the storm doesn’t hit too violently and passes quickly.
Tug approaches the hostess stand with his nephew and a tall, exotic redhead. I can’t help but laugh that she looks like the type to devour men. He deserves it. I hope she chews him up and spits him out.
I ignore them and go to the bar to fill a drink order. After I deliver the drinks, I find the happy threesome sitting in the back corner, and, thank God, they aren’t in my section.
Maddie, one of my decent waitresses, approaches, and she is nearly in tears.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Three words later and she’s a blubbering mess. It takes her a moment to calm down. “That woman at table twelve refuses to let me serve her. She wants you.”
How did I know her distress was caused by table twelve before she said it? Because Tug doesn’t go anywhere without causing a stir—that’s how.
“What’s her problem?”
“You don’t remember her?”
I glance over at the table. I’d been so preoccupied with Tug that I didn’t recognize her, probably because her hair was up when she came in for lunch last week. Poor Maddie couldn’t do anything right, and the woman made a huge scene. I start laughing, and Maddie watches me, confused.
“What’s so funny?”
“She’s such a bitch.” Exactly who Tug should be with.
Maddie laughs, too. “She’s horrible. I didn’t do anything to her.”
“I know you didn’t. I can handle her spoiled ass. You take table five for me.”
“Thank you.”
Great, I’m stuck with Captain Asshat and Queen Crazy for the next hour at least. I wish I could down a few shots at the bar, but it would be unprofessional, and I don’t want to let Brady down. I can’t believe Tug would show up here for dinner. He has to know I work here. I stand tall as I approach their table and silently beg for strength. Tug acts completely uninterested in my presence, which is fine with me.
“Hi. So lovely to see you again,” I say to Queen Crazy, and put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “Hello, Andrew.”
The kid smiles up at me, and I feel more relaxed. If I just keep my eyes on him, I’ll get through this.
“You know, Maria, the incompetence of your staff is baffling.”
So is your attitude, I think, trying not to laugh. Did she go to a special school to learn bitch-speak? No one enunciates every word when they talk. It’s not natural. Maybe she’s a robot. Hopefully she’s programed to make Tug’s life a living hell.