The Night Manager

by Tarrah Anders

  I quirk my eyebrows at her.

  “What?” she smiles lazily. “You always wash me, so why can’t I wash you?”

  “That’s not how it goes,” I return.

  “Gender roles.” She rolls her eyes.

  Cam is finishing up in the shower while I’m making lunch. She comes into the kitchen a few moments later wearing tight jeans and a plain t-shirt, and her wet hair up in a ponytail. A few moments later, she walks into the kitchen and slides up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and kissing the side of my neck. I feel pure happiness.

  “Whatcha cookin’, good lookin’?” she asks.

  “I’m making a sausage sizzle.”

  “Shut it. I haven’t had one of those since being here. Oh, are those onions and mushrooms?” She cranes her head to look over my shoulder.

  “Do you want barbecue or ketchup?”

  “Barbecue sounds delicious.”

  “Grab some from the door of the fridge, will ya?” I crook my neck.

  She releases me and opens the fridge to gather the ketchup and barbecue sauce.

  "Did you know that you take excessively long showers?” I tease, winking at her as I turn and present our meal.

  “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had food from home? I mean I love American food, but every now and then some comfort food is good too.” She fills up her bread with some of the extra mushrooms and onions from the pan and spreads more sauce on it before folding up the bread and taking a big bite.

  She groans and slaps her hand down on the table.

  “A little slice of home with a hunky guy.” She smiles after she finishes her bite.

  “A little slice of home, with my lady.” I return her smile.

  I spend the next few weeks getting back into the swing of things at the club by working every other night. On the nights I’m not at the club, I take Cam out on dates. I give her flowers, constantly hold her hand, shower her with sweet kisses, and exhaust her with a lot of love-making.

  I’ve been given the all-clear from the doctor to resume normal activity and start going to the gym again, feeling like I’ve slacked off enough. I’m heading home from the gym when my phone starts buzzing in my duffel.

  I finally find it in the side pocket and answer it.

  “G'day, mate,” Mal says quietly.

  “What’s up?”

  “Have you seen Cam?” he asks, out of breath.

  “No, but I’m not home. Everything all right?” I ask, concerned by the tone of Mal’s voice.

  “Nah, man. I need to talk to Cam. Thanks.” And Mal hangs up.

  How weird. I dial Cam’s number, but get no answer, so I pocket my phone and head home.

  When I get home, I notice her car is parked in its usual spot. Once inside, I go in search of her. I find her lounging in the master bath surrounded by bubbles. The music is turned up so loud, she wouldn’t hear it if there was a fire alarm.

  Distracted, I observe her for a moment and then decide to join her. I disrobe and come around to the side to dip my foot in. The moment she becomes aware of my presence, she startles. Her eyes go wide and her mouth springs open, ready to scream.

  “You have a thing with startling me.” She gasps, clutching her hands to her chest as, I sink into the tub across from her. She moves her body so my feet can go on the sides of her and she places hers on top of my thighs.

  “It’s a good thing this place came with a huge tub. I’ve got to admit though, this is the first time I’ve been in it.”

  “I wouldn’t take you for a bath kind of guy,” she says.

  “Believe it or not, I bought this place for the master shower. I mean, how can you go wrong with all those nozzles.”

  “So many sprayers, I’m not even sure I know how to operate it the right way.” She laughs lightly.

  “How long have you been in the bath?” I ask.

  “Not sure. I’ve filled it up a few times because it kept getting cold, but I haven’t wanted to get out yet. So, maybe an hour.” She holds her hands up to study the prune-like state of her fingertips.

  “Maybe we should get out of here,” I suggest.

  “But you just got in.” She leans up on her knees and advances on me. I move my legs to allow her the space and the slide them closed so she rest her shins on either side of me. My cock has come to attention between us, knowing she’s close.

  She wraps her arms around my neck and leans in. I can feel her breath on me as she closes in. She licks my lips first and when I open for her she plunges her tongue in and rubs it along mine. She rocks her hips against me, causing my cock to rub along her pussy lips as she slides back and forth.

  “Fuck, baby,” I say, breaking the kiss. I look down through the bubbles between us to watch my cock sliding as she pulls back. “You’re playing with fire.”

  “Burn me then.” She leans up on her knees and grabs my cock, then angles over it and slams down roughly. I lean my head back against the lip of the tub and groan loudly. She slides up and down again, repeating her movements. She feels so fucking amazing, all slippery and wet and bare. Without a condom, I feel that way inside her too. I grab her hips to try to stop her.

  “Cam. Condom,” I grit through my teeth as she continues to ride me.

  “I trust you, Jacks. You know I’m clean. And I'm on the pill. Plus, we've had sex before without one. We're good,” she breathes, as she continues to move.

  Water laps onto the floor as my hips buck up and hers slam down. Moans echo off the walls of the bathroom and I’m about to come.

  “Babe. I’m going to come,” I share my thoughts and she slides off of me and starts to stroke me rapidly. My head stays back and I moan loudly as I release into her hand under the water as she’s on the upstroke. She pulls the plug from the tub and what’s left of the water starts to drain. She leans down and kisses me.

  “I’m sorry. That was quick.” I feel guilty for coming so quickly and definitely before she even came close.

  “Don’t ever apologize for having an orgasm, especially one in the bathtub with me,” she says, leaning down and kissing me with so much emotion behind it.

  We climb out of the tub and rinse off the remaining bubbles in the shower. I show her how to properly operate the shower heads so she can use all the different sprayers. Once we’ve dried off and we’re dressing in the bedroom, I remember why I was searching for her in the first place.

  “Hey love. Mal me called looking for you. He probably couldn’t get ahold of you with the music so loud. He sounded winded, kinda off. You may want to call him.”

  With worry in her eyes, she leaves the room in search of her phone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cam

  It’s not like Mal to call me several times in a row in such a short period of time. He didn’t leave a voicemail message or send any texts, he just called and called and called. I dial his number and leave him a message asking him to call me back and then called Beck to no answer as well.

  Hoping they are both okay, I return to the bedroom where Jacks is sitting at the edge of the bed typing out something on his phone.

  “What’s up?” he asks, looking up as he places the phone down on the comforter.

  “Not sure. Neither Mal nor Beck is answering. I guess we’ll see if they return my call. So, how was your morning? Nice to be back at the gym?” I ask, walking towards him to stand in the open space between his legs.

  “It was nice to get some sort of movement in.” He leans back on his hands and smiles.

  “Can I ask you an odd question? Okay, maybe not really odd, but probably not the everyday type of question that one would be asked?” I start.

  “Should I be concerned about this question?” he asks playfully.

  “I was looking for the broom earlier, because I broke a glass. Sorry about that, by the way. And so, I went looking in the garage for a broom. Why do you have a box labeled knee pads? I mean, why would you need a box full of knee pads? What are you doing on
your knees?”

  His face slowly turns from serious to sudden laughter. He flops back onto the bed with his hand over his eyes and laughs loudly as I stand still in between his legs with my hands on my hips.

  “Oh man,” he says in between fits of laughter. He wipes his eyes and then leans up on his elbows and looks me in the eye. “What do you think it’s for?” he says, finally trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “So as you know, I’m a retired dancer.” he says followed by a leading pause.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “So, when we’re doing floor work, rather than moving across the floor on our knees and busting up our skin, we use knee pads to help the glide look effortless and smooth.”

  “So you just kept your old knee pads?”

  “I bought in bulk. I forgot I still had a box.” He smiles. “What was going through your mind, love?”

  “I’m not really sure. It just seemed odd for someone to have so many. But now that you mention it, I do remember seeing the guys in Magic Mike wear them,” I say flippantly.

  “I have practice tonight, do you want to come?”

  “Practice?”

  “I have some new moves I’ve been thinking up that I may want some of the guys to do. You can come and watch it all unfold. Maybe bring the box of knee pads?” He winks.

  “Will I be like the stripper fairy, bringing gifts to not injure the knees?”

  “Precisely. But love, dancers or erotic dancers, not strippers. Those are the terms that we prefer.”

  “Is there a difference?” I ask, honestly wanting to bite my tongue as soon as the words came out.

  “No, but I think those titles are just less negative, less objectifying. I mean they take off their clothes, for some form of stimuli, but there are negative connotations associated with the word ‘stripper.’ Dancing is an art, whether you take your clothes off or not,” he says, his tone flat as he straightens and moves me aside a little so he can stand.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push any buttons.”

  “No need to apologize. The more people who can view the profession as something less sleazy the better. There are stereotypes about the business that just seem to never go away.”

  “I feel like an arse.” I touch his arm and run my hand down the inside of his forearm to grasp his hand.

  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be mad at you. I’m not mad at you. I just get touchy sometimes when I hear people call my dancers strippers. I hated hearing it when I was dancing.”

  “Anyone that ever says ‘stripper,’ I will now be able to give them the proper name.” I make a cross-my-heart motion over my chest and he smiles.

  “So, do you want to come to practice tonight?”

  “Do I get to see you in action?” I perk up.

  “Yeah a little.”

  “Sold!” I say loudly as he laughs.

  We’re walking out of the bedroom when the front door opens and Mal and Beck barrel into the front room. Mal has a wild expression in his eyes as he looks from the kitchen to the hallway where we’re walking out.

  Jacks and I are holding hands. By just looking at my brother, I know something is wrong. Jacks must sense it too as his hand squeezes mine. Beck’s eyes are red as she stands slightly behind Mal with one of her hands on his shoulders.

  “Fuck. I feel like I’ve looked all over the city for you,” he says, out of breath.

  “I’ve been home, I haven’t gone anywhere. What’s up?” I ask. “Everything okay?”

  “Why weren’t you answering your phone? I tried calling you several times.”

  “I was taking a bath. I called you back though.”

  “When I came home, she had the music up pretty loud and her phone was out here. What’s going on?” Jacks asks, coming to stand beside me.

  Mal looks at him and then looks at me and shakes his head.

  “We’ve got to go. Pack a bag. I booked a flight home, our plane takes off in a few hours.” Mal grabs my arm and pulls me towards the bedroom. “Beck, can you help her?”

  “Wait, what? What’s going on? Tell me what’s going on?” I plead.

  Beck comes up and wraps her arms around me and leads me down the hall quietly. I look behind as Mal leans in and talks quietly to Jacks. I see Jacks's expression fall. When his eyes cut to me, I see the pain in his eyes. I look to Beck as she leads to the bedroom doorway. “Why aren’t you guys telling me anything? Why am I packing a bag and why am I going home?”

  “We all are. Something’s happened,” Beck replies.

  We enter the bedroom and Beck doesn’t say any more. She sees a bag on the top shelf of Jacks’ closet and grabs it.

  “Where are your clothes?” she asks.

  “In the other room. I haven’t moved any of it over in here,” I reply.

  Beck is going through the motions and I’m not sure if she’s deliberately not saying anything or if she just doesn’t know what to say.

  Something’s happened.

  What happened? To whom? And why are we going home?

  Why is no one telling me what is going on?

  We walk back into the living room where Mal and Jacks are seated. Jacks stands and comes in front of me and grabs my hands.

  “Come sit.” He instructs.

  Wordlessly, I walk around the couch and sit beside Jacks. The mood in the room is tense as I sit in between Jacks and Mal. Mal turns his body to me and takes a deep breath.

  “We have to go home.” He starts, takes a deep breath and then continues. Beck’s hand is on his shoulder from behind and soon tears are streaming down my face and I’m leaning into Jacks. His arms surround me and hold me tightly as my world crumbles.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jacks

  I’m going out of my mind. Cam has only been gone for a few days, but I miss her and I wish that she would call and talk to me. Mal and Beck took her back home and she hasn’t returned any of my calls. I'm trying to keep my calm, but knowing the details gutted me. While I knew Mal and Cam’s parents, I wasn’t that close them. I enjoyed a dinner or two with the family, but I wasn’t around them enough to think of them as my family as well. I had to stay back here in Vegas and take over Mal’s duties while they were back home, but my mind wasn’t here. I wanted to be with them, to be with Cam and to let her bury her head in my chest and cry as much as she needs. Instead, I’m dealing with vendor orders, music selections and payroll.

  I've spoken with Cam only once since she landed, but I haven’t heard from her since.

  I understand though.

  Her mom.

  She’s dead.

  Cam’s devastated. I would be too if I were in her position.

  When Mal and Beck came running into my house to get Cam, I saw the pain and the sorrow in Mal’s eyes. They weren’t saying what happened to not worry Cam off the bat, but when Cam and Beck went into the bedroom, I persuaded Mal to do it with me there, for her if she needed that support.

  I’m sitting in the upstairs office at the club when my phone vibrates across the desk in front of me. I look at my watch. It’s two in the morning and my phone never rings at this time of night.

  I glance at the phone screen.

  Mal.

  I answer, hoping that Cam is with him and I get a chance to speak with her.

  “Mate?” Mal greets.

  “Hey. How is everyone holding up?” I ask, leaning back in the chair.

  “It’s somber that’s for sure. Pop is just a shell and Cam seems to be in denial.”

  “Fuck.” I tug at my short hair. “And you?” I question.

  Mal takes a deep breath. “I’m getting by. Having Beck here is helpful. Since no one else has come to terms with everything, I’m making a lot of calls and arrangements. It’s all very taxing.”

  “Is there anything that I can do?” I ask with worry.

  “Distract me for a few minutes. What kind of shit is happening righ
t now?”

  “Well, I’m participating in girl talk with Kendra and Janae. I’ve lost my balls and I think I’m growing tits.”

  “You would look strange with tits.”

  “I think I would look rather great. Think about it. I’m not a bad looking guy so if I had tits, I would be a hot commodity.”

  “I think you would be a hit with a particular type of group, but not the general public. I mean I doubt my sister would like it if you had tits.”

  “Don’t knock it.”

  “Your brain is leaking mate.” Mal laughs.

  “Where’s Cam?” I ask curiously.

  “She’s next door at Mrs. Williams’ place. Cam used to help Mrs. Williams out occasionally before she moved to Vegas. I think she’s picking up where she left off, trying to occupy herself and do what feels normal to her.”

  “I hate being here while she’s there.” I groan.

  “I know it would cost a lot, but maybe you can make it out here for the funeral, I can send you the details. I know Cam would appreciate it. Shit man, I would appreciate it. I felt bad enough that Beck and I took off with no warning, but you have a few days to prepare. What do you say?”

  “I’m not sure she would want me there. We haven’t spoken since she first arrived.”

  “Mate, she’s out of sorts. She needs you, she just doesn’t know it right now. Give her a ring; I’m sure she would answer it.”

  I can hear Beck in the background and Mal ends the conversation. He tells me that he’ll send me the funeral information and we say our goodbyes. I look at my calendar and black out Wednesday through the weekend to go home and be there for my best mate and my girl. I pull up the schedule and try to think hard about what the fuck we’ll do for management since both Mal and myself will be gone. Kendra is only one person and we can’t ask her to work such long days. After about an hour of wracking my brain, I decide that the head of security, Dwayne, and bar manager, Janae, can fill in the slots of time when Kendra can’t be here. I’ve spaced out Kendra’s hours to where she will be at the club during the peak hours, and Janae or Dwayne will stay until closing. Kendra can check everything when she arrives the next afternoon.