by Lexie Ray
After we finally parted, panting on the floor, Jake looked over at me.
“That was the best workout I’ve ever had,” he said, his face sweetly sincere.
I snorted. “I’m glad a gym full of sweaty men and a rack of weights can’t hold a candle to me,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
He swatted at me playfully. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said.
We showered comfortably together, soaping up each other’s backs like lifelong lovers. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been locked in the room together, but Mama raised her eyebrows at both of us when we traipsed down the stairs, hand in hand.
“Think I should pay her extra for the third and fourth orgasms?” Jake asked, grinning rakishly.
“I think you should get your fine ass back on stage and do what you were hired to do,” I said, giving him a peck on the lips before going back behind the bar.
“Oh my God,” Shimmy said, sidling up as Jake started his third set. “Everyone hates you right now.”
“Believe me, I would hate me, too, if I weren’t me,” I said, unable to tone down my happy grin one iota.
“You must give me details after we close,” Shimmy said, her hips swaying to Jake’s sultry beats. “It is a requirement, not a request.”
“I’ll tell it to everyone as a bedtime story,” I joked, grabbing a handful of beers and opening them before positioning them on a tray for her.
“You look like you’re in love,” Shimmy said accusatorially before marching the tray of booze across the floor.
I patted my cheeks, which hadn’t lost their flush. Maybe it was just hot in the club. I pulled my hair back again and knotted it at the nape of my neck, then fanned my hands in front of my face.
“Looks like you got burned by the fire,” Daisy observed, handing me a ticket.
“Burned so good,” I retorted good-naturedly, pouring a concoction of liquor and mixers in the shaker before shaking it like a maraca, dancing up and down the bar in the meantime.
“You’d better spill every single thing after close,” Daisy said.
I poured the concoction into two glasses and placed them on the tray for her.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I already promised Shimmy the same thing.”
I watched Daisy carry the tray carefully across the floor before gazing up at Jake. He was spinning, in the middle of blending two songs together before shifting to a third, but he looked up all the same, locking eyes with me.
I flushed and grinned, and he returned the look. He executed the shift masterfully, powering into a song that everyone in the club knew and loved, but I knew his mind wasn’t on his set. It was on what we’d just finished doing upstairs. It was all I could think about, too.
“You look happy.”
Pumpkin’s softly worded observation drew me back to the task at hand. I smiled at her sweetness and took her drink ticket.
“You know that game everyone played in school—seven minutes in heaven?” I asked as I set out five shot glasses on the bar.
“Yeah,” she said. “But I was always too shy to play.”
“I never played, either,” I said, thinking back on my tumultuous formative years and shaking my head. “But I just spent a solid two hours in heaven.”
Pumpkin giggled and covered her mouth cutely as I poured rum into the shot glasses, arranging them artfully on the tray before pushing it toward Pumpkin.
“I’m happy that you’re happy,” she said before turning around and shaking that round rump of hers back across the floor to her table.
I shook my head. Was my happiness so transparent? Why did Jake make me so happy in the first place?
His third set was his last. Jake usually played at least four, but we’d spent so much time upstairs that he had to cut it short. Mama came up on stage and took a microphone from Jake. Something about seeing them close together made my skin crawl a little bit, but I shook it off.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Mama said. It was customary for her to bid everyone farewell at the end of the night. It was certainly more personal than flicking on the lights and hollering last call.
“We’ve enjoyed your company, but it’s about that time,” she continued, smiling widely. “Tip your girls, tip your bartenders, and tip off your friends—Mama’s nightclub is the place to be.”
It was after her speech that someone made the lights a little brighter in the place, prompting the customers to start scurrying into the night.
I poured some last cocktails and shooters, then started cleaning up. There was a load of dishes to wash in the little washer behind the bar, as well as trays that needed cleaning. Another bartender started wiping down the surface of the bar with the rag, while the third went around outside to pull the barstools out so we could vacuum the carpet. Customers rarely sat at the bar, preferring to get the service—and flirtatious attention—of Mama’s girls on the floor. It happened sometimes, though, and we had a few tonight.
“Can I get a beer to go?”
Jake’s familiar voice made me turn from capping all of the open liquor bottles with paper cups. I smiled as I popped a beer from the case and opened it for him.
“Only if you promise to stay forever,” I said, batting my eyes at him.
“I wish I could,” he said, smiling sadly. “But I’ll be back next week for my regular set.”
I pouted prettily. “You won’t come to see me before then?” I was shocked to realize that I was legitimately upset about the fact.
Jake shrugged. “I wish I could,” he said. “But I’m playing all over town, booked solid.”
“Well, congratulations on that,” I said. “I know that’s your passion.”
“I’m passionate about you,” he said, his eyes kind.
“We could always do something after we finish working,” I said, wondering a little at the hope in my voice. I craved having him inside of me, but I realized that I wanted more of him. I wanted to actually spend time with him, go places, go out to eat. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to date Jake Fraser. I’d never wanted to date anyone ever, not even when I first moved to New York City. I’d marched my way through a whole platoon of lovers, rarely sleeping with the same one twice.
I actually wanted to tie myself down to Jake. It was an odd concept.
“We both get out awfully late,” he said, grinning.
“We live in the city that never sleeps,” I said, taking the empty beer bottle back from him and twirling it between my fingers before sending it crashing into the trash. “I’m sure we can find some kind of entertainment.”
“I know what kind of entertainment I want,” he said, his eyes hungry.
“I might make you pay for it again,” I warned. “Or Mama will.”
“I would gladly pay for it again,” he said. “I got more than my money’s worth today.”
I blushed. “I wouldn’t make you pay again,” I said. “I was just joking.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Jake said. He hefted a rolling suitcase and a shoulder bag—all he needed to transport his equipment to and from a venue. He reached into his wallet and withdrew a card.
“My number,” he said, tossing the rectangle to me.
I plucked it from the bar and rubbed my thumb over it.
“You want me to call you J-Fray next time?” I asked.
“You can call me whatever—and whenever—you want,” he said, winking at me as he walked out of the nightclub. I watched him go, eyeing the tight ass those jeans contained, a little disappointed that he didn’t look back before walking out the door.
“Look at this lovesick girl,” Shimmy clucked, shaking her head sadly as she leaned on the vacuum cleaner.
“I’m not in love,” I spluttered. “He just fucked my brains out, is all.”
Shimmy shrieked with laughter before turning the machine on, collecting the crumbs from the night of celebration.
“I hope you’re not expecting too much.”
I loo
ked over to see Cream standing there, a rag and spray bottle clutched in either hand.
I winced and bit my lip. “I’m sorry, baby,” I said. “Are you upset?” Cream had been one of the girls Jake had slept with—free of charge—when he first started doing his thing at Mama’s nightclub. The other two had since left, especially as Mama’s reign of terror grew worse.
“I’m not upset,” Cream said, lifting her shoulders with resignation. “He paid for you, after all. We always have to sleep with whoever wants to pay with us.”
Honesty was always the best policy, I hoped as I plunged forward.
“Are you sad that he didn’t pay for you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I just wanted to hook up with him,” Cream said. “He’s freaking sexy, isn’t he?”
“Fucking sexy, I’d say,” I said, grinning, but Cream only gave me a small smile.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked, clasping my hands together. “I kind of wanted to sleep with him. I think I like him. Is that okay?”
Cream laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “Of course it’s okay,” she said. “He’s not mine. He’s not anybody’s. He might not even be yours, Blue, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. I’m not upset. It’s just friendly advice.”
She left to start cleaning tables and I watched her, puzzled. It sounded like Cream had really liked Jake, but he hadn’t returned her affections after that first night. I found myself wondering if some of the things he said to me tonight were recycled, if the girls he’d had before had heard and swooned over the same words.
I tried not to let it bother me as we finished cleaning up the floor and as my tips came pouring in from the rest of the girls. It had been a good night, and I pocketed a hundred bucks before giving the rest to Mama for her “safe keeping.”
“Excellent, excellent, excellent,” Mama said, taking each girl’s money. “You just let me know if you need any of it,” she said. “I’ll take it right out for you.”
Nobody believed that anymore, and I knew most of the girls had pocketed part of their tips, same as me.
Going upstairs to change and take a shower, I frowned at myself. It was completely out of character for me to dwell on someone I slept with. I was definitely the love them and leave them type.
Why was it such a problem if Jake was, too?
Chapter Four
The first indication that something wasn’t right came the very next day.
I opened the little plastic compact case that contained my birth control one morning and realized it’d been a solid week since the last time I popped a pill. Sitting heavily on the bed, I stared at the pills I should’ve been taking. What had made me forget to take something I’d been taking for years for a solid week? Where had my mind gone?
After I’d regaled Shimmy, Daisy, and Pumpkin with the story of my hot hookup with the DJ, I’d gone to bed sore and happy. The soreness had lasted a whole two days, giving me pleasant reminders about what I’d done with him. I liked the feeling.
When it’d faded, I texted him, using the number on his card.
He hadn’t texted back.
Cream’s words plagued me, that I shouldn’t have high expectations for him. I knew I shouldn’t. I’d only get hurt. But I couldn’t help to think that we’d had something special.
Finally, in a fit of desperation, I actually called the number. I heard his voice, which made me melt inside, but it was just a voicemail for bookings.
“I’ll give you a call back with my rates,” the message said, Jake’s voice bright and professional. “I want to rock your venue with my specially tailored beats. No performance is the same.”
I’d hung up at the beat, not wanting to bother him. He’d always talked about wanting a full schedule, doing his show at least once a night, and it seemed like he was getting what he wanted. I tried to be happy for him, but I felt that he could at least take a second to text me.
Unless he didn’t feel the same way about me as I did him. Maybe that was it.
I resolved not to text him again. I didn’t want to come off as needy—specifically, me needing to be with him. That just wasn’t me.
“Shimmy!” I hollered, still staring at my compact of birth control pills. The seven I hadn’t taken stared up at me like beady little eyes. I snapped it shut so they would stop judging me. I took a deep breath, trying to ward off the panic attack that was threatening to consume me.
“Blue as the sea,” I muttered to myself, tossing the compact from hand to hand. “Blue as the sea. Shimmy!”
“What’s up?” She poked her head in my door.
“How many of these can you miss and still be okay?” I asked, waving the compact at her. All of us were on birth control in one form or another.
“Two or three, I think,” she said. “After that, you have to use secondary protection.”
The funny way she said it made me realize she’d memorized it from the packet.
Shimmy wrinkled her nose. “Why are you still taking those, anyways?” she asked. “You should get an implant or something. The advances in medicine recently have been stunning, I tell you, absolutely stunning.”
She sashayed across the room and plopped down beside me on the bed, making me bounce a bit.
“I missed a whole goddamn week,” I said, feeling numb as I handed her the compact.
Shimmy opened it and whistled lowly. “That’s why you gotta get on an implant, girl,” she said. “I’ll go with you if you’re squeamish. It’s nothing, really. You barely feel it. But once it’s there, you forget about it and you’re protected. No pesky little pills to remember to take.”
“I’ve been taking them for years,” I said, shaking my head. “I never miss.”
“You’ve got Jake on the brain,” she said, handing me back the compact. “It does funny things to a girl.”
I groaned. “I do not have Jake on the brain,” I lied. “My brain is far too addled to focus on anything, obviously.” Opening the compact again, I mentally berated myself for those seven pills. I’d missed them long before I hooked up with Jake, and that was a big problem.
“At least you’re going to start your period soon,” Shimmy said, pointing at the first sugar pill in its row at the bottom of the pack.
“That’s true,” I said, sighing heavily.
“And you should cheer up,” Shimmy said, elbowing me. “Pining doesn’t suit you. You’ll see Jake tonight. He’s scheduled as entertainment.”
I grimaced inwardly as my heart lifted. I was too into him, and he evidently wasn’t into me. This could only end badly, just as Cream had said. I needed to distance myself emotionally from him. I had to protect myself.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from curling my hair until it fell around my face softly. I sprayed it so the style would hold throughout the night, then took special care with my makeup. I chose red lipstick to finish off the look, which had been Cocoa’s favorite. I smiled when I remembered our most recent text exchange, during which I’d gushed stupidly over Jake.
“Blue the man-eater, finally ready to settle on just one?” she’d written. “Must be one beast of a man.”
“The beast-iest,” I’d sent back, earning an “LOL” from Cocoa.
I was like a little girl with a crush, even if I knew that nothing good could come of throwing myself at a guy like Jake, if what Cream had said was true.
That didn’t stop me from grinning at him as he set up his equipment on the stage just as the nightclub was opening. It also didn’t stop the fluttering of my heart when he returned the grin and blew me a kiss, to boot.
He looked damn sexy in a simple black T-shirt that showed off those biceps. I was transported back to our night together, when I’d had to hold onto them as he fingered me. The thought of it gave me chills.
Jake finished setting up and started playing popular music, all of the girls cheering as familiar songs filled the nightclub. Mama threw open the door and started welcoming customers inside.
“W
hat’ve you been up to?” I asked, sliding him his favorite beer. “I tried to get a hold of you.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound petulant.
Jake took a swig and looked at me blankly. “Did you leave a message?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I didn’t want to bug you if you were busy.”
“You’d never bug me,” he said laughing and kissing me swiftly on the lips. “I just always field my calls that way. I get a lot of calls from unknown numbers. That’s how I weed out the business calls from the personal calls.”
My traitorous mind wondered how many personal calls he’d answered last week before I could stop it.
“Here,” I said, grabbing his hand and a permanent marker from behind the bar. I scrawled my number on the back of his hand. “Now you know it’s me who’s calling.”
“Very nice,” he said, admiring my handiwork. “No screening this number. I promise.”
He started his set and I felt a little mollified. He screened his calls. It made sense. He was running a business and had his cell phone number on his business card. He probably got lots of calls.
That traitor brain of mine wondered if he’d fed Cream the same excuses.
I felt better once the drink tickets started coming in. Mixing cocktails and opening beers might have been mindless work, but the simple tasks kept my mind from dwelling on Jake. Would he pay for the pleasure of being with me again tonight? It felt like a million years from the last time I saw him. I almost hoped he would.
But the night wore on. Jake would always come down to the bar for a beer between his sets, and to chat and flirt with me. But he gave no indication that he was going to take me upstairs again.
Finally, after the third set, I couldn’t stand not knowing any longer.
“Am I going to enjoy a repeat performance of last week?” I asked keeping my voice light as I gave him his beer and continued to complete drink requests.
He laughed. “You know, I asked Mama about it,” he said. “She raised your price, saying that it was because we were up there for so long.”