Just A Woman (The Porter Trilogy Book 2)

by Youngblood, Shannon

  I couldn’t help the growl that escaped my throat. No one was ever going to make me stop trying to make things right with Charlotte. I looked up, noticing the smile splayed across Jerry’s face. He was getting a kick out of this argument.

  “That’s never going to fucking happen, Danny. Never. Charlotte is my soul mate, and if you won’t help me, I’ll do it my own damn self and I swear to everything, that if you let her know my plans, I will find you, I swear to God I will find you.” I was panting by the end of my rant. My anger had risen exponentially in such a short time.

  Jerry patted my hand, urging me to calm down. “Danny, sweetheart, I wish you could see Mr. Porter right now. He’s frazzled and frankly, kind of a mess.” Jerry said, smiling at my sour face. “Hear what he has to say, ok?”

  It took a few moments, but finally, we heard Danny take a deep breath and agree to listen to what I had to say. It took me a few moments to calm myself down. My anger the last few weeks had risen to out of control measures. I needed to see Charlotte soon. She was the one who could reign in my rage and make me feel almost human.

  “Danny,” I started, “I know I hurt her. I know. But, I thought I was protecting her by not telling her that I knew. I didn’t want her to have to relive that night ever again, and honestly, I was a little selfish. I hoped that, if she never knew I was there, then she wouldn’t be able to connect me to her horrible past.” I ran my fingers through my hair and continued. This would be so much easier with his help. “Danny, I love her.” I whispered.

  I heard the sharp inhale of his breath. Clearly, Charlotte had not told him of my confessions from that evening. I figured maybe he had read it on Charlotte’s blog, but he seemed shocked. Hoping to gain the upper hand, I continued, the words falling from my mouth like verbal diarrhea.

  “I know you have every right to hate me and not believe a word that comes out of my mouth, but please believe this. I love that girl with everything that I am and everything that I will be. I’d give up all of this to be with her.” My hands flourishing around the room even though Danny couldn’t see it. “She makes me a better person. So, please, if you love her, give me a shot to make it up to her. Give me a shot to make it right.”

  Jerry and I sat and waited for what felt like hours, but, in reality, was a brief pause, for Danny to respond and deliver my sentence. Was he condemning me or saving me? I could feel the sweat on my brow, even though my office was always kept at a cool 68 degrees, and I watched as Jerry looked back and forth between my phone and my face. Right when I thought he wasn’t going to go for it and I opened my mouth to make another plea, Danny spoke up.

  “What did you have in mind?” he sighed, resignation lacing his words.

  I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face and neither could Jerry. Danny was on board with helping me and I couldn’t be happier. With Danny on my side, even a little bit, my hopes of getting her back increased exponentially.

  “Thank you, Danny,” I whispered, “Thank you. Here’s my plan.”

  I spent the next half an hour going through what I wanted to do over the next week to woo Charlotte and get her back into my arms and into my life. Initially, Danny was highly skeptical, but eventually, with Jerry’s help, I could feel him coming around.

  With everyone in place for my plan, I hung up with Danny, thanking him profusely, and letting him know that I owed him a favor, which he could cash in whenever he wanted, day or night. I shook Jerry’s hand and silently thanked him with my eyes. Understanding my thanks, Jerry winked back at me as he exited my office.

  I sat back in my chair and thought about the last hour. I had a lot to do to get ready for the gala next week and not a whole heck of a lot of time to do it, but with Danny and Jerry’s help, I knew things were finally going to start going my way.

  Picking up my phone, I called Bracks. I needed to put the first part of my plan into motion, and because I needed to know if it was going to work, I was going to need access to the video feed of Charlotte’s office. I knew from an outside perspective, it would look as if I was invading her privacy, but part of my plan relied on her responses to the things I had planned, and honestly, I was so desperate to see her, I couldn’t put forth the extra energy to care. It wasn’t like I was putting cameras in the bathroom or anything.

  After disconnecting with Bracks, I had one more call to make before I went home to think about the upcoming week and the upcoming fundraiser.

  “Thank you for calling Versace on Rodeo, this is Susan, how can I help you today?”

  “Susan, it’s Porter, listen, I need a dress by next Friday. Can you help me?”

  “Of course, Mr. Porter. What did you have in mind?”

  Chapter 15

  Daydreamer Musings

  August 14, 2015

  Followers- 686

  I’m feeling a little in shock over the large amount of new people reading this blog. I mean, I don’t think I even know 686 people! I guess my life is compelling or something? Well, as always, hello to all of my new followers. You’re in for a treat today! And, for those of you who read my last blog, I apologize for not posting sooner. It’s been a crazy two weeks. A crazy, amazing, beautiful two weeks.

  So, last I posted, Alex had sent me the coffee every day with some sort of memorabilia from our time together. I was scared to let him back in. I’m still scared to let him back in. In fact, I’m petrified. I’ve gotten some lovely comments from a lot of you, telling me to open my heart and see what happens (consequently I’ve also received the opposite from people, telling me to file a restraining order). That might be a little harsh, I mean I do love him, I don’t want him to get in trouble with the law or anything, and as well, I kind of WANT to see him, I mean, I love him. I keep saying that. I love him. I really do.

  Anywho! I need to tell you all about the last few weeks, and maybe some of you non-believers will come around, and maybe retelling my story will cement my decision; whichever way I decide to go.

  The day after I last updated, I went into a normal day at work. I was tired, very tired, and honestly, I wasn’t in any mood to be at work or do anything. I had almost considered calling in sick, but I hate lying when I’m not really sick. So, I stuck it out and worked my shift.

  By the end of the day, I almost considered calling an Uber, because I was so exhausted, and I didn’t want to crash my car on the way home, but I figured I could make it and went to my car. When I opened the door, there was a single rose on my driver’s seat. There was no note, but I knew who it was from. I remember smiling the entire drive home, my tiredness completely forgotten. How had he gotten it into my locked car. I mean, sure, Alex is crafty, but breaking and entering? Maybe his driver did it.

  The next two weeks went in similar fashion. On Tuesday, at my typical Starbucks, the lady behind the counter handed me a rose, a smile plastered to her face. On Wednesday, there was one sitting on the doorstep of my apartment when I got home from work. On Thursday, the deli lady handed me one and, on Friday, there was one ON MY PILLOW when I woke up. How was he doing it? How did he know where I would be? It was like he knew my next move before I did.

  Over the last two weeks, I have received 10 beautiful roses that are all sitting in a vase on my dresser in front of me. I’ve stared at them for more hours that I should be allowed to, thinking about what I’m going to do. I don’t know how he did all of the things that he did. I don’t know how one ended up on my pillow or in the front seat of my car. (I also realize that those of you pushing for a restraining order are probably screaming at your computer screens now more than ever).

  He’s trying to woo me. Alex is not a romantic person, at all, but I know that’s what he is doing, and if wasn’t for the fact that I know my roommate Danny hates Alex, I would think Danny is helping him set all of this up. I just don’t know how he is doing it, but honestly, I don’t think I care.

  So, back to my roses. I have ten beautiful roses I’ve received over the past two weeks. Today, when I got home from work, I w
as opening the door of my apartment, and I was a little disappointed. I was home early, since tonight’s the night of the fundraiser gala for work. I didn’t want to go, partially because of my exhaustion and partially because I don’t think I’m ready to face Alex yet, but my boss told me I didn’t really have a choice.

  I was disappointed because I hadn’t received a rose. I know it’s really stupid of me to be upset, but I had come to expect the flowers and it was the highlight of my days. I walked into my apartment and headed straight to my room. I had no idea what to wear to this fundraiser, I just knew it needed to be fancy.

  If you could have seen the shock on my face when I entered the room and saw what was on my bed, you would all be laughing at me. On my bed lay the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was a silver and black strapless dress. I wish you could see it, my description won’t be very good. The entire dress was fitted until the knees, where it had a very slight flair, and even a slight train. The black and the silver sections wrapped around each other spiraling down to the bottom of the dress. It reminded me of the yellow and red brick road in The Wizard of Oz. The entire dress sparkled with mini shards of silver and black crystals. It was breathtaking.

  Next to the dress was a pair of silver heels, the most perfect heels; stunning and perfect. They were adorned with black crystal shards as well, complimenting the dress perfectly, like they were made to be worn together. There was also a diamond bracelet, a necklace with a black teardrop onyx stone, and an onyx clip for my hair. It was the perfect outfit.

  But, what really made this perfect, is what was lying on top of the dress. I’ll give you all three guesses and the first two don’t count. You got it, a rose. My eleventh rose. As you can also probably guess, I broke down in sobs. I reached for the rose and held it up to my nose, inhaling its sweet perfume. I reached out for the dress multiple times, but couldn’t bring myself to actually touch it, not for a long time.

  Danny came into my room shortly after and hustled me into the bathroom for a shower. I cried the entire time. Happy tears of love. I know where I am going to get the twelfth rose to complete the series. Tonight, at the fundraiser. I didn’t ask if he was going to be there, but I know he will be, and I just know deep down, that’s when I will get the last rose.

  Now here I sit, in a towel, typing out all of this when I really need to be getting ready. Danny is outside of my locked door, waiting to be let in to help me. My nerves are shot and I’m a jumbled mixture of anxious, excited and terribly nervous. I’m ready to give him another shot, but my heart can’t take another crack.

  To all of you, my faithful followers, I will update you as soon as I get to the fundraiser. Thanks to this handy app, I can update on the go!

  As always, I love you all and will talk to you soon!

  Chapter 16

  Alex

  I’d never felt as nervous as I did in that moment. Today had been one of the best and the worst days of my life, and my hope was that it would get better in the next few minutes. Come on Porter, be a man. There’s no reason to be nervous. She’s just a woman. Too bad she wasn’t just a woman to me. She was my woman, and even though the first part of my morning had been utter shit, I was determined to not let it hinder my evening.

  I had been jarred awake this morning by another fucking nightmare. I’d had these nightmares ever since I was a young child, different variations at different ages, but when Charlotte came into my life, they had all but disappeared. I should have taken it as a sign back then, but like an idiot, I ignored the signs and tried to make Charlotte my fuck buddy. Today, and for the past few months, I had been paying the price for my idiocy.

  Now that she had cut herself out of my life, the nightmares had returned full force, more vivid than ever. The one I experienced last night was probably the worst of any I had ever had. It revolved around the night my adopted mom, Rachel Mansfield, found me. I remember very little of that time, only small bits pieced together in my dreams. I was seventeen at the time, but my awake mind had blocked so much of it, protecting me from complete meltdown. My subconscious, unfortunately, liked to torture me while I slept, making me relive things that no one should ever have to endure.

  I remember being in a plush extravagant room, purple satin draping the extra-large bed, gray and Black paintings adorning the walls. I remember seeing myself, lying naked in the middle of the bed, my face covered with old yellow bruises and new purple and red ones forming under the intense swelling of my cheek, eye, and lip. Every time I had this dream, I watched from afar, the scene unfolding before me. I could see the abuse all over me. This time was different. This time, I was in my own body, no longer spectating.

  I heard yelling outside of the door, but I couldn’t lift my head enough to try and hear what was being said. My current master at the time also didn’t like me moving from the spot he left me in. Of all the masters my foster parents sold me to, he was the nicest, so I tried not to anger him. After he finished with me, he would normally treat me nicely and take care of me.

  Suddenly, an angel walked in, slamming the door behind her. I tried to tell her not to untie me, Master would be very upset, but she wouldn’t hear it. She kept screeching at no one in particular. I couldn’t decipher her words back then, or in the dream, but as a grown man, I knew that the angel had been Rachel, and she had been in a rage over how she had found me.

  In real life, I had been saved that night, taken to a police station, while my foster parents were brought in and arrested. I never saw them again. In my dream, the woman who entered was dressed in white, her opulence shining down on me. Suddenly, she screwed up her face and then was savagely ripped apart from the inside out, morphing into the devil. My master came in and both he and the devil beat me until I blacked out. This was usually the end of the dream.

  This morning’s pavor nocturnus had been mostly the same, but wildly different. Instead of Rachel being my angel, the beautiful savior had been Charlotte. She was stunning and I couldn’t peel my eyes away from hers. Her emeralds shined through me. When the inevitable happened, and a demon pushed out from her ribs, tearing her down the center, I woke up sweating, panting, and with an erection hard enough to cut through diamonds. The worst part about my returning nightmares was my body's reaction to them. I always woke up with my cock in my hand, ready to blow. It was degrading, to say the least. How could I be even a little turned on by the disgusting things that took place in my dream land?

  Every time this happened, no matter the time, I found myself outside jogging. I needed the fresh air and time to clear my head. This morning was no different, and by 4:45am, I was hitting the pavement hard, trying to wash away the memories of my past with the sweat of my present run. The wind in my hair made me feel alive and not quite so broken. If I had been a better man, I would have possibly considered going to therapy, but I wasn’t a better man, and I had no intentions of telling a stranger my deluded past.

  Throughout my run, I concentrated on things other than my night terrors and smiled as my thoughts drifted towards Charlotte. So far, my plans had gone off without a hitch. She had received my roses and always looked incredibly happy after getting one. Tapping into the cameras in the office had been a genius idea on Rachel’s part. Tonight was going to be the hardest to pull off, but would hopefully reap the most rewards. Her dress had been ready to be picked up at noon and I had to get it to her house with the accessories before she got home at three. The timing had to be perfect.

  Danny, begrudgingly, had given me a key to get everything done, but I think, deep down, Danny was seeing, as well as I was, how happy Charlotte was since I had started my pursuit to get her back. I had set up the outfit on her bed, knowing her room would be the first place she would head to after she got home from work. I stood a little longer than necessary to make sure everything was how I envisioned it being, ending the ensemble with her 11th rose.

  I had just barely made it out of the apartment before her car pulled up, parking in her normal spot, and as much as I wa
nted to stay and see her reaction, I didn’t have access to her bedroom window and her blinds were closed. I snuck my way around the building to where Bracks was waiting and made my way home, smiling, my head leaned back against the cool leather imagining her reaction.

  Now, several hours later, I find myself standing in my black tux with matching silver tie, conversing with people I couldn’t care less about, mingling, and eyeing the door, waiting for her to walk through it. I knew I shouldn’t have been feeling this nervous, but somehow, I couldn’t stop my hand from migrating to my hair and running my fingers through it. I felt like a little girl, nervous for her first date.

  “Alex, she’ll be here soon, stop fidgeting,” Rachel said, walking up behind me and pulling my hand from my hair.

  “Yeah, Yeah,” I mumbled. I couldn’t bring myself to deny that I was, in fact, a fidgeting mess waiting for Charlotte. Rachel knew better than anyone and she knew what was happening, not only as my adoptive mother, but also as Charlotte’s boss. “Tell me Rachel, how has she been? Your cameras can only show so much,” I asked.

  “She’s been well, Alex, and I don’t think you need to worry. I’ve never seen her so happy and glowing. I think your attempts are working,” she said, taking a sip of the champagne she held in her hands.

  I was still apprehensive about seeing her. I hadn’t laid eyes on her since the coffee incident after her father’s funeral. I was determined to make this right and to keep nothing from her. I knew it would be hard, because naturally, I wanted to protect her from hearing anything that would upset her, but I couldn’t lose her again. Living without her would have no point.

  I took a look around the room. This was the 6th Annual Fundraiser for Alzheimer's research. Last year, we raised over 2.5 million dollars, and this year, we hoped to double that figure. It was a good cause, but I hated coming to these things. Normally, I came without a date and the women that showed up were persistent in their attempts to catch my eye. Every year, I took one of them home for casual sex, and every year, I told myself I wouldn’t go to the next one.