The Last Match

by Stevie MacFarlane

  Sam Barringer requests your presence at a private gathering on Friday next at 8:00 p.m.

  The black tie affair will be held in the lounge at Sugar Babies Inc.

  RSVP, regrets only

  Well, well, he thought delighted. The past month he’d waited patiently for some sign of life from Erica. Granted, a meet-and-greet only assured him of seeing her again, but it was better than nothing and far better than what he’d been going through. He was worried about her, and while he didn’t regret his actions, he was sorry he hadn’t taken more time to explain things to her.

  His impression was that she was more confused than angry. At the wedding, she’d been cordial but cool. She avoided him on the flight back to New York unless required to stay in her seat during takeoff and landing, spending most of the time chatting with the other women. Frequently, he felt her eyes on him, but when he met her gaze, she looked quickly away, a somewhat mystified expression on her face.

  While the concept of daddy/little girl relationships was not foreign to her -- how could it be in her line of work -- he was very sure she’d never considered it for herself. And why would she? he thought. Erica presented herself to the world as the epitome of a professional, career-oriented woman. It was only by accident that John caught a tiny glimpse into the real woman behind the façade.

  Several weeks ago he’d stopped by Sugar Babies to see Sam. News of Sam’s engagement had reached him and he wanted to congratulate his friend personally. It was quite late in the day when he was finally able to head over, and seeing Sam’s car still out back in the parking area, John let himself in the back entrance. Finding the place deserted, he took out his phone to call Sam and alert him to the fact that the place was wide open when he heard some strangely familiar sounds coming from one of the offices. Thump. Thump. Bang. Crash. Followed by swearing and yelps of pain.

  His cautious approach down the hall quickly escalated into a sprint as he realized the sounds of distress were coming from a woman. Rounding a corner, he was able to look directly into the office of Sam’s lovely assistant and stopped dead in his tracks.

  The pretty brunette was kicking her desk repeatedly as she swore a blue streak. Her hand picked up a planner and threw it across the room as she finally let her shoes go flying. Hiking up her tight skirt, she sank to the floor and sat Indian-style, rubbing her sore toes and sniffling. Her hair fell around her, and she dried her eyes on the sleeve of her silk blouse. Rocking back and forth, she seemed like the saddest little girl he’d ever seen and his heart melted.

  “Excuse me? Is everything alright?” he asked gently as he approached her door.

  “What?” she snapped, startled. Jumping to her feet, she pushed down her skirt and stared at the large man. “We’re closed,” she sniffed, straightening her clothing and bending to pick up her shoes. “This is a private area, you can’t be in here. What do you want?” she demanded as he took a step inside, and she backed behind her desk, putting her hair up.

  “I’m a friend of Sam’s. Is he around?” John asked.

  “No, he’s gone for the day,” she snapped. “You’ll have to call him and make an appointment.”

  “His car’s outside.”

  “It is?” she gasped, flustered.

  “Yes, it is. That’s why I came in. Miss, are you sure everything is alright?”

  “I’m fine,” Erica lied. “I just kicked off my shoes for a while. It’s been a long day,” she offered by way of an explanation. “Sam must be upstairs, I’ll call…”

  “I have his number,” John drawled, taking out his cell. “Sam, how are you? I just heard the news and thought I’d take you out for a drink. You can tell me all about your lovely fiancée.”

  The entire time he was on the phone, he never took his eyes off Erica. She fidgeted for a few moments, maybe wondering how much he’d seen and if he was planning to tell Sam about it. Her blue eyes were guarded as she shifted from one foot to the other, watching him.

  He ended the call, agreeing to meet Sam out back, and slipped his cell into his pocket.

  “I’ll be going now,” he said, noticing the relief on her face. “You better come and lock up if you’re not leaving yet,” he advised. “I wouldn’t want you to be caught…um, surprised for a second time today.”

  “What do you mean, caught?” she asked, picking up her purse and grabbing her keys.

  “I just wondered if you made a habit of ‘kicking off your shoes’ and stomping…”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Erica said coolly as she followed him to the back entrance.

  “You’re right, it’s not,” John replied. But it will be, he thought. “Have a good night miss and lock this door.”

  “Can’t you see that’s what I’m going to do, just as soon as you are on the other side of it?” she said, gritting her teeth.

  John smiled and turned away. She was about the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time, and she was wound tighter than an eight-day clock. One of these days, she was going to come undone and she would need someone to pick up the pieces. He wasn’t sure if she needed spanking, fucking or just someone to rock her, but he sure as hell intended to be on hand when the time came.

  “Sam, I just got the invitation,” John said as soon as his call was transferred from the receptionist. Although the card said regrets only, he wanted to let his friend know he’d be there.

  “I hope you’ll be able to make it, John,” Sam replied, leaning back in his chair. “Erica’s worked very hard putting this together, and she assures me you’re sure to find someone that interests you. I don’t recall a time when we’ve had so many clients at a single gathering. The guest list is extensive.”

  “I’m sure she has, Sam, but I think you know who I’m interested in,” John drawled.

  Sam laughed. “That’s what I was afraid of, but it’s only fair to tell you you’re not the first client to show an interest in Erica and I doubt you’ll be the last. She’s a beautiful woman, John, but in all the time we’ve worked together, I’ve never seen her seriously involved with any man.”

  “Do you know why that is?” John asked thoughtfully.

  “No, I can’t say as I do. We’re friends in a casual sense. We work well together, she’s extremely professional, and I’ve never had a reason to pry into her personal life. If I had to guess, I’d say intimacy isn’t her strong point, but where that comes from is anyone’s guess. She doesn’t talk much about her childhood, never has, and the only time I’ve ever seen her really let go was in Vegas. Although I don’t know exactly what happened between you two, my feeling is it didn’t go well.”

  “I guess that depends on who you ask,” John replied. “Her behavior was no great surprise to me, although I imagine others would say differently. I found the trip very enjoyable and enlightening.”

  “You’re getting cryptic in your old age,” Sam laughed. “I just don’t want you to be too disappointed. I had a feeling you had a vested interest in Erica and…”

  “It’s more than a vested interest, Sam,” John sighed. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to understand this, but I have a deep and abiding feeling that she’s the one. It’s not sexual, at least not entirely. It’s more a ‘knowing’ if that makes sense. She needs me, Sam. I feel it in every fiber of my being. The woman you see and the one I see are two different people.

  “I told you in Vegas that the image she presents to the world is a façade and I stand by that comment today. Inside that perfectly groomed outer shell is sad and lonely little girl. One day she’s not going to be able to hold her in any longer and you’re going to see a meltdown of enormous proportions. Trust me on this, Sam.”

  Sam was quiet for several moments before speaking. “I must say it’s hard to believe, but at the same time, I have seen a few small inconsistencies in her the last few weeks.”

  “I consider them more like cracks in her armor,” John suggested.

  “So what’s your plan?” Sam asked. “I understand a lit
tle better now and I’m glad we spoke honestly. Johanna was much the same way when we met. I knew instinctively she needed me so I can hardly argue with you on that point. Unfortunately, I think Erica is better at hiding her feelings than Jo ever could be. Now that I think about it, I know nothing about Erica’s family or if she even has one. She never talks about her parents or any siblings, and I have no idea where she goes when she’s on vacation. Wow, John, I’m an idiot. I make it a point to help women in any way possible and yet there’s one right under my nose that may need more than a paycheck from Sugar Babies.”

  “No, you’re not an idiot, Sam. She’s just very good at keeping secrets and I have to wonder about her past. What is it that’s so painful she’s kept herself isolated? What’s locked inside her heart?”

  “I can’t begin to imagine, John, but in hindsight, I think you may be onto something. What can I do to help both of you?”

  “Just keep an eye on her. I’m heading home to Texas for a short time, but I’ll be back in time for the party. Do me a favor, and make sure Erica wears something pretty. I know what she’s doing, and I’m not going to stand for it. There is no way in hell I’m agreeing to any match, not as long as I feel this way about her. She’ll try her damnedest to throw every woman she can my way and keep herself as nondescript as possible. Please don’t allow that, Sam.”

  “I’ll do my best, but she can be pretty stubborn, John. I think I’ll have Mike bring Brandy along that night and I’ll make sure Johanna comes, too. I’ll tell Erica that I‘ve decided she’ll stand out less if she dresses in evening wear. Anything else I can do to help?”

  “No, I don’t think so. The important thing is that she realizes she can’t drive me away, nor temp me with other women. I may not win her in the end, but I’ll sure give her something to think about if nothing else.”

  “Oh, she’s thinking about you, John. I can almost guarantee it, but whether it’s with longing or plotting revenge is another story,” Sam laughed. “Someday you’ll have to tell me exactly what happened in Vegas.”

  “I think that will have to stay mine and Erica’s little secret,” John replied with a grin. “See you soon.”

  Hanging up the phone, John instructed his secretary to order two dozen roses sent to Erica at Sugar Babies. The card read, ‘Looking forward to seeing you again, JB.’

  Erica pulled the florist paper off the vase on her desk and buried her nose in the beautiful pink flowers. Taking the envelope, she read the card and promptly dropped it into her wastebasket. Picking up the vase, she carried it out to the reception area and placed in on a table, her heels clicking with each step.

  This was highly inappropriate, she thought. Imagine John sending her flowers like there was something between them! By this afternoon, the whole place would be speculating about them. No, it was best to leave them out where everyone could enjoy them, and nip this entire thing, whatever it was, in the bud.

  Employees of Sugar Babies didn’t form personal relationships with clients!

  The next day when she returned to her office after lunch, a beautifully wrapped package had been delivered. Inside was a stuffed pink bear, so soft that Erica couldn’t resist stroking the fur. The card was scrawled in bold handwriting, ‘Wanna cuddle? JB.’

  Erica stuffed the bear in her closet and closed the door with a decisive thud. Really, what was that man thinking? She was a grown woman and hardly needed a teddy bear. Granted, it was cute and so very soft, but still ridiculous. She’d have to smuggle it out of the office after everyone left for the day. She called his office number to tell him to stop this nonsense but was told he would be out of town for several days.

  “Would you care to leave a message for Mr. Braden?” a female voice asked.

  “Yes, tell him…I want him to stop…never mind,” Erica sighed rubbing her forehead. “I’ll speak to him when he returns,” she concluded, hanging up the phone. This day was turning stressful, and for some reason, she wanted to go into her closet and hug the hell out of that damn bear. Shit.

  The following morning, Erica entered her office cautiously. Her shoulders sagged in relief when she didn’t see any large bouquets or gift-wrapped boxes. Hanging up her coat in the closet, she took a minute to pat her bear on the head. Last night, after stalling as long as she could, she was forced to leave him hidden away for the night. Sam had been waiting for her to lock up and there was no way she could get the stuffed bear out of there without incurring his curiosity.

  Leaving her office, she went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and retrieved her messages from the receptionist. Sinking into her chair, she finally noticed the small box on her desk. As she reached for it, she was surprised to see her hands shaking slightly. Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt, she picked it up and pulled the tiny bow. Inside was a gold engraved charm, with ‘Lil Sweetheart’ written on the heart in flowing script, the curling letters entwined with etched flowers. The delicate gold chain was quite long, she noticed, before setting it down and picking up the embossed card. ‘The chain is long Darlin’ so you can wear it under your clothes and nestled between your breasts. No one will ever see it,’ JB.

  She was quiet for a long time, the necklace dangling from her fingers, the charm twirling gently as sunlight reflected off the gold. Damn you JB, she thought, as she wiped away the tear that silently slipped down her cheek. This was too much! This was a gift a loving father or a doting uncle would give to his daughter or niece! So why did she feel so sad, so lost? No one had ever given her something so personal, so emotionally gut-wrenching.

  She wasn’t a Lil’ Sweetheart! Had never been anyone’s little sweetheart! She was hard and cold and focused. She was ruthless in her quest to make her own way without depending on anyone. What did this man see in her that would make him think she would appreciate a gift of this nature? She wasn’t a child; in fact she’d never had a childhood and she didn’t want one now. Her early life had consisted of being passed from one miserable foster home to another. She had vague memories of a little sister, but she couldn’t be sure they were even accurate. By the time she was old enough and well off enough to think about searching for her, she no longer cared.

  What did it matter anyway? It was all in the past, water under the bridge and all that crap. No, she was a survivor, she thought, wiping away another tear. She’d be damned if any man made her spend even one minute thinking about what could have been.

  The knock on her door startled her, and she quickly shoved the box in her trash and slipped the necklace over her head, the charm cold between her breasts.

  “Come in.”

  Thursday morning, Erica strode into her office, stomped her feet and looked at the large box wrapped in silver paper with an enormous bow on her desk. Screaming into her hands to muffle the sound, she picked up the box and shot it into her closet, giving it a good kick before slamming the door.

  Keeping herself busy, she was actually able to forget the hidden present, at least for a couple of minutes. By lunch time, her nerves were shot. She couldn’t stand it another second, and she realized she was acting childish by not being able to resist the temptation. It didn’t stop her.

  She locked her door and retrieved the box, placing it on her desk as she reverently untied the bow and slipped off the silver paper. When she lifted off the top, the sight that greeted her eyes had her hanging onto her desk. No way! There was no way in hell John could know these things. It just wasn’t possible, she thought, as she lifted out the contents.

  The pink tutu, complete with leotard and pink ballet slippers laced with satin ribbons, took her breath away. Oh, how she’d wanted a present like this more Christmas mornings than she cared to remember. As she hugged the sparkling dress to her, she was dizzy with delight, forgetting where she was and reveling in the moment. It was beautiful, gorgeous, something a princess would wear, and she wanted more than anything to strip off her clothes and put it on.

  It was impossible, she sighed, moving the tissue paper to put the outfit bac
k in the box. Then she saw it, another outfit. This one was silver, complete with the slippers and leotard also, but made for an older child. The skirt was nothing but a series of gray chiffon handkerchiefs dusted with fairy dust. It was so fragile, Erica was almost afraid to touch it. Carefully lifting the dress from the box, she held it to her, so light-headed she was afraid she would pass out. She could dance in this dress, float high above the room like some beautiful creature from an old musical.

  As a child, she’d been convinced that if she only had a dress like this, she could rise above all the pain and loneliness and soar to the heavens. Her parents would be waiting there for her and they would all be happy. Her father, her real father, would be handsome and twirl her around in his arms as they laughed and laughed. Her mother would be lovely and gentle, with a smile that made flowers bloom. If only she had a dress like this one, it would all come true.

  She was crying as she packed the lovely things away and placed the box carefully on a shelf in the closet. It was a long time before she could read the card. ‘I wasn’t sure which one was best sweetheart. I can picture you in both of them and it makes my heart smile. Someday I hope you’ll dance for me, JB.’

  Erica called in the next day, something so unusual that Sam called her back to make sure she was alright.

  “I’m fine, Sam. I just had a little headache this morning. I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”

  “Is there anything you need, anything I can bring you?” he asked, obviously concerned.

  “No, I’m feeling a little better already. I’m sure if I rest today, tomorrow I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, if you need anything, let me know.”

  “I will. See you in the morning.”

  She had managed to get all of her things out of the office the night before, and frankly, she couldn’t handle another heart-stopping gift from John. The past couple of days were highly emotional, and she needed to regroup. She’d stayed up late last night, had spent several hours wearing first one ballet outfit and then the other as she thought about her life. An Internet search for her missing sister had turned up nothing, but she hadn’t expected anything more. Finally she fell asleep, wearing her tutu and hugging her bear.