Selling Satisfaction

by Ashley Beale

  *~*~*

  Walking into Jesse's Deli, I spot Kandy over in the corner, waving at me so I know where she's sitting. I head up to the counter to order a sandwich, then meet her at the table once my order is finished.

  "How did last night go?" She asks about Bender as I sit down.

  My face flushes thinking about Everett and the way things ended last night. "It was good," I answer. Making sure to think about Bender rather than phone sex. "I feel a lot better about everything."

  "Well enough to have someone new?" She grins excitedly.

  I hate to disappoint Kandy, but I have to think about my safety. "Kandy, you know what I said..."

  She interrupts me. "I know, you're the daughter I never had. I would never intentionally put you at risk to become harmed again, and you have no idea how horrible I feel about everything with Mr. Belvidere. I understand your wishes, and more than that, I respect them."

  "So?" I question before taking a bite of my turkey sub.

  "His name is Michael Ranson. He met with Mona the other night, she said he was sweet, well mannered, incredibly attractive, which I can contest to as well. He doesn't want sex, he wants companionship. He's going through a recent breakup that apparently has done him in. Mona said she wanted more than conversation with him, but that she enjoyed her time."

  "So why me?" I ask between bites.

  She takes a sip of her Coke while shrugging. Placing the drink down in front of her, she answers my question. "He called yesterday. Said he enjoyed Mona immensely, but she woke him up to realizations he hadn't thought of. He wants someone with similar features to his ex. Those features are much to yours." She shrugs again. "Plus, when I filled out the paperwork with him, you two seemed compatible by nature. He isn't looking to tie you up or even lay you down, he wants to feel connected with his ex."

  Rolling my eyes, I sigh, placing my sandwich down for a drink of my own. "Fine," I mummer. "I could use the distraction."

  "Still stuck on last week?" She pulls her lip to the side in concern.

  I shake my head no- although, yes, that still bothers me, but I'm as over it as I can be. "This neighbor of mine. He's been driving me insane."

  "Oh, do tell." She rests her chin in the palm of her hand, waiting for details.

  She should know me better than that though. "It's nothing of importance. He's just learned to get under my skin is all."

  "No one gets under your skin, sweetie."

  "I know." I sigh at the thought. "He's... different."

  "Good. I'm happy for you. You need some normalcy in your life, hun."

  "You don't, and you turned out fine. You're successful and gorgeous and happy."

  "And lonely," she adds in. "This stays between us. Got it?" I nod, knowing I'll keep all her secrets until my grave. "I've thought about retiring from this all. I have more money than I'll ever need. I'm ready to head to somewhere tropical to finish out my life."

  "What? No, you can't!"

  She reaches across the table for my hand. "Like any other job, it takes a toll on you. I'm exhausted. I've had my fun, I've made my money, and I have wonderful family and friends as an end result." She gives me a pointed look. I knew before that she considered me family, but it feels nice to hear. "You're so young still, you can walk away from this and have a normal life. Go to college, or find another career that you're passionate about. If you don't want to do that, you can take over my job. I'll give you everything you need to know and more. If you don't want that responsibility, I can send you to my friend in Miami. Regardless to what you want to do, I'm going to support you. I always will. And no matter where I live, you'll always have a way to contact me. In fact, you better contact me at least weekly."

  I can sense the feeling of wanting to cry over the fact of Kandy leaving me. She's the closest thing I've had to a mom since my real mother passed away. "So you're for real? You're really going to walk away from everything?"

  "Not yet. I would like to sometime in the next year though. Honestly, I probably would have before now if not for you. I don't want to leave you."

  I'd like to tell her not to then, but I can't be selfish, so I go against everything in me begging her to stay. "Don't worry about me, Kandy. I've been doing it on my own for so long, I'll do just fine."

  She nods with a small smile. She knows I'm faking a lot of my feelings, but we both know that in the end, I will be okay. I'm always okay. "Well," she continues. "When you figure out what you want, let me know. I'll help get it set up for you."

  I slowly nod my head, accepting what is, while picking my sandwich back up.

  "Now tell me about this neighbor of yours."

  An instant smile breaks out. "Maybe after Sunday."

  "What's Sunday?"

  "Our first date." As if on cue, butterflies decide to descend through my stomach. My palms instantly start to sweat. Yup, he's definitely done something to me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Everett

  Finishing up my paperwork from Wednesday, I head into Chief's office. He isn't here, he left over an hour ago, but he ordered me to stay until I got it all finished. It almost feels wrong betraying Mona after the other day. She really helped me out about a few things which I didn't even know I needed help with. She felt like the first friend I had- aside from Brenna- since moving to Florida.

  It's the job though. I've made other friends I've had to turn in before. Friends that were in my life for months. Nothing is easy about my job, it's half the reason I actually enjoy it. It's a feeling of accomplishment. Not to mention, in the end, what I'm truly doing is making a difference in the world. I'm making it better for people like my sister and nephew, and possible future children.

  I pop into Jeff's office before leaving the building. "Still here?"

  "Damn sure am. Did you get ahold of Kandy?"

  "Yes, she confirmed I'll meet with Chasity on Tuesday. I'll update you on everything Monday. I'm heading home."

  "Have a good night," he orders.

  Walking back into my condo at the end of the day is different without Emily here, especially on a Friday night. Her visit was short lived, but it made a world of difference to me. It was hard to say goodbye to her yesterday morning, especially knowing she was resenting me for leaving her beforehand. I had talked with her on the way to the airport, I told her how sorry I was. She apologized and admitted she was out of line, knew it was for my job, and that she was upset with herself more so than with me. I knew it was a half ass apology, but by the time I hugged her goodbye at the gate, I knew things were better than they were the previous night.

  She confirmed when she arrived home, and I asked if she were going to talk with Sebastian about things. She replied she would in time, and left it at that. I let her know I was sorry once more and that I'd be there for her for anything she needed at all, but she never answered me back. The last person on earth I ever want to disappoint is Emily.

  It's almost seven and Brenna's car wasn't out front. I was hoping I'd see it so I could message her about a possibility of doing something tonight. Wednesday night was probably one of the greatest nights of my life. Not only was everything she said sexy and fun, but she actually opened up to me. It was the perfect step in the right direction. I was worried about our kiss at first, but knowing it was the beginning of something incredibly fierce, I realized it was the best decision I've ever made.

  We messaged again last night, but she seemed bothered by something, so it was short lived. I didn't dare push for anything more with her, because I know one day I'll push a little too far and she'll walk away. I don't want that day to come. There are a million things about Brenna I'm falling for already, and I hardly know her.

  Pulling a frozen dinner from the freezer, I take the plastic off before sliding it into the microwave. I need to learn to cook. Maybe I could take up cooking classes so that one day I can impress Brenna. Hell, I've already been looking on YouTube and some site called Pinterest for tips on how make chicken cordon bleu. I'd rather impress
her with a homemade dinner and candle lights, than with take out.

  The mere thought of having Brenna in my house on Sunday night makes my dick twitch. After seeing her naked, touching herself at that, I've imagined what it'd be like to be naked with her. I saved the picture to my phone, and I can't lie to myself about the fact that I've viewed it over a dozen times already. It's probably unhealthy, but I've never seen a body quite like hers. Or met a woman that compares to her for that matter.

  Everything about Brenna is pure torture in the absolute most incredible way.

  Taking my dinner from the microwave, I toss it down on the table before taking a seat. A beer is already opened, placed on the table. It's silent in here. I can deal with silence, but not when my mind is nonstop. Reaching for the phone in my pocket, I turn on some music I've downloaded. Nothing like a bit of country music to relax me.

  I'll have to figure out some songs Brenna likes so I can download them as well- especially since I mainly have country on my playlist and she claims to hate it. I try to search for others, while mindlessly eating my frozen cuisine. A message pops up as I hit download on an old Meatloaf song.

  It's from Brenna. A smile immediately forms that she sent a text to me first.

  Um. Do you know how to jumpstart a car?

  I laugh before remembering she works in a different town, one I'm not even sure the distance of or how to get there. I hope she doesn't say that's where she is, but even if so, I'll come down and help her without a doubt.

  Yes. Where are you?

  Never mind, someone else stopped to help me. Thank you though.

  I feel protective over her when she says that. Who stopped and helped her? A guy? Is she alone, and somewhere someone could take advantage of her? I probably shouldn't, but I message to ask where she is anyways.

  Where are you? I can still help you. Or at the very least follow you home so you don't break down.

  After a minute of no reply, I end up calling her. I don't like the thought of something happening to her. She answers after the third ring, with a laugh no less. "Thank you again," she says to someone. Her voice comes clearer when she speaks to me. "Hey, sorry, I was about to message you back."

  "Are you okay?"

  I can hear the door shut to her car. The music softly echoing before it gets turned down. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I was staring at the motor, not knowing what the hell I was looking at, when someone stopped to offer a hand."

  "But he's gone, right?"

  "Who says it's a guy?" I can hear the tone in her voice become defensive. I don't want to come across as jealous, because that's not at all what I'm being- I'm being protective. I tell myself there is a difference, but I'm not even sure I believe me.

  "Sorry, I know it doesn't have to be. I don't like the thought of anything happening to you. Guys take advantage of girls that break down, especially attractive females that drive nice cars."

  It takes her a second to respond. "I'm fine. I keep pepper spray with me. I have a gun, too, if I need."

  "Why do you have a gun?" I think back to her being bruised. She has a reason behind owning a gun, and it has a lot to do with her bruises, that much I'm certain of. That wasn't a one-time thing. My body heats with anger at the idea. I don't think I'll ever get over those images in my head- especially if I don't find out who the bastard is that did that to her.

  She chuckles, finding amusement in something I find both extremely sexy and frightening. Watching her holding a pistol in her hand as she fires off shots would be an incredible fucking view, but the thought of someone attacking her, which results in her fearing her life enough to own a gun is something entirely different. "I'm young, attractive in the eyes of many guys, and I'm alone more often than not. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

  I can't get angry over her protecting herself. In fact, I'm not angry at all. I need to remind myself that she can clearly handle things- she can handle more than I'd like for her to. "Good call," I choose to say. "What are you doing?"

  "Driving," she mocks.

  "I meant, where you headed?"

  "Home."

  I dare myself to ask. "Do you... want to do something tonight?"

  She sighs softly, making an echoing sound through the phone, then she surprises me by saying. "I'll see you soon. I need to change before I come over though."

  "Have you had supper yet?"

  "No, and I'm starving."

  "I'll see you when you get here. Drive careful."

  "See you." The call simply ends with that.

  I glance down at my almost finished off poor excuse of a dinner. Standing up, I grab the plastic container, bringing it over to the trash. If she's starving, then I'm going to do something right.

  Heading towards the bathroom, I pull out my buzzer to quickly give a shave to the facial hair that should have been trimmed days ago. Then I brush my teeth and comb through my hair. Once I go into the bedroom to change my clothes and hide my badge, and anything else that gives hints of me being a detective, I go back in to add deodorant and cologne. I don't have the first hint at what we're going to do, beyond dinner, but I want to make it special somehow.

  Nothing romantic, but fun nonetheless. That'll end in kissing. Maybe more.

  Scratch that... hopefully more.

  Once I'm ready and waiting, I pull out my phone to search for, fun things to do near Pensacola, FL. When I find about something called Gallery Night, I wonder if it's something Brenna will enjoy. There is music, food, entertainment, old homes, art, and so much more. It sounds romantic to me without necessarily being a date.

  I continue to look at the details, being protective in the way I am, I make sure it's a safe environment. That it's all worth our time spent there, as well as any money I need to dish out. Before I have it all figured out, I hear a soft knock on the door.

  Brenna nearly knocks the air out of my lungs. The view of her is breathtaking. She has on a pair of those tight ass white jeans that go to knee level, a pink shirt that shows off a little more cleavage than I'd like her to show off in public but I'd never admit that to her out loud. Her long black hair is slightly curled, falling down over her shoulders. The best part of everything though is the damn red lipstick painted on her luscious lips.

  Clearing my throat, I give her a welcoming smile. "You look... incredible."

  She shows off her sparkling white teeth as she walks into my place. "Thank you." Looking me over, she says, "You look great too."

  Brenna places her purse onto my counter and looks around. "Did you have plans or were we hanging out here?"

  The fact that she looks like that and thinks we're staying in... I'm pretty damn certain that means she's wanting more than a kiss tonight as well. If not, then she is one hell of a tease.

  "I had plans, but if you want to stay in we absolutely can."

  Her stomach answers her before she can say anything. The growl echoes between us, causing a bit of pink to color her cheeks. "Unless you became a chef overnight, I think we should probably do something."

  "I'm ready whenever you are."

  She picks her purse back up and starts to head towards the door again. When she walks past me and I get a hint of her perfume, I put my arm out to stop her. I catch her right around the upper stomach, pulling her towards me. Her eyes widen while she looks up at me breathlessly. "I want to kiss you."

  When she doesn't answer me, I lean in to give her a simple kiss, only to feel her lips against mine for a moment. Her body sinks forward, melting in with mine, but I know if I don't keep this cut short we'll never leave the house. So with all my willpower, I back from her kiss, grinning down at the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on. "Sorry," I murmur. "You're irresistible."

  She pushes against my chest, walking towards the door again. It's undeniable she's attempting to put up a front with me, she wants to still play hard to get, but what she doesn't seem to realize is that I've already won a part of her. A large part. Because of that, I won't stop until I have all of her.


  When we get into my pickup, she doesn't ask where we're going, in fact, she doesn't say a word. She opens a little round container, looks at herself in the mirror, running her finger along her lips where I may have accidently smudged some makeup, then she snaps it closed, looking forward.

  "Are you in the mood for seafood, steak, or something else?" I ask.

  She looks over at me with a shrug. "I'm in the mood for food. It could be an elephant at this point, I wouldn't complain."

  "I'm glad you enjoy food. I hate when girls are picky about what they eat."

  "I work out a lot, I need my iron. I enjoy salads and vegetables, but I could eat a tub of ice cream in one sitting and go back for more."

  "Where do you work out?"

  "Oh. Um. I have a gym at the job." Something about what she says come off as odd, but I don't question it.

  I pull the truck into a parking spot near the downtown district, sliding it into park before killing the engine. "I should have told you there was walking involved. After we eat, of course."

  "Okay." She reaches over and hops out of the truck, slamming the door closed. I get out too, meeting her in the front. Looking down at her shoes, I see she's in some kind of strappy sandal looking thing. "I already learned with the height of your truck not to wear anything that'd hurt my feet."

  "You don't like big trucks?"

  "I don't like anything to do with country living."

  "Am I allowed to ask why?"

  She looks down at her feet as we walk. I want to reach out and hold her hand, but she pockets them into the back of her jeans, not allowing me to touch them. "Did your sister tell you about my parents?"

  "No," I tell her. I asked Emily what they talked about a few times, she assured me nothing of importance. Apparently that was a lie. I'm sure Brenna appreciates it though. I know I don't like people spewing off about my personal business. "Was she supposed to?"

  "It doesn't matter." She pauses to look over at me. "They died when I was young, in a really fucked up way. A way that destroyed me, and in a way I still can't fathom. Before their death, life was great. We grew up country. My grandparents had a farm, my dad drove a truck and blasted his country music, my favorite thing to wear was an old shredded up pair of cowgirl boots, and I idolized the original Daisy Duke. Things like that bring me back to remembering my parents, and not the good things. The blood on their bodies when I discovered them, and the fact they selfishly left me at such a young, vulnerable age."