First Lies (The Second Life Series)

by Jessica Cruz

  First Lies

  The Second Life Series

  Jessica Cruz

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 1

  “How’s your father doing?” My mom asked while sipping on her glass of wine. I almost laughed to myself. It was such a weak drink for such a resilient drinker. She adjusted and readjusted her Prada sunglasses, hiding behind the giant shades that covered half of her slender face. It was a nervous habit of hers whenever she discussed her first husband and father to her children.

  “I guess he’s fine,” I answered.

  A light breeze combed through my long, chestnut locks and ruffled the skirt of my floral print dress. We were sitting outside of a bistro in Haddonfield, New Jersey. It was early in the afternoon, and I watched the familiar faces of the local pedestrians walk up and down Kings Highway. On this Saturday, it was beautiful outside. We really had been blessed with a perfect summer this year, and the beginning of fall was shaping up to be the same. Hopefully that meant we’d have a mild winter. I hated the cold.

  I continued, “We haven’t talked as much lately with his moving. I should probably call him tomorrow.”

  “Yes, hopefully Virginia is kind to him. I can’t believe after all these years he’s actually summoned up the courage to move,” her smile was faint. Sometimes I wondered if she regretted the divorce with my father. “I pictured him living in that old, Victorian house for the rest of his life.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. The waiter came over and filled my glass with water, and I nodded a thank you, “He deserves to start over. Nick and I are both grown up. We moved out and moved on. He’s still relatively young, and someone offered him an amazing business opportunity. I’m happy he took it.”

  My mom became as quiet as she always did when the subject of my father came up. They divorced over ten years ago when I was still in elementary school. I always thought it was for the best though. They were constantly arguing over every single little thing. Once they split up, it actually became nice going home to peace rather than tension and yelling.

  Nick saw things a little differently though. He still resented my mom for the divorce. While I fully see the demise of their relationship as mutual, he blames it on her. Perhaps, it’s because she was living with a new boyfriend before the divorce was even finalized. I couldn’t exactly say I was surprised. My mom was the type of woman that needed to be cared for financially and emotionally. She never stayed single for long.

  “How’s school going?” She asked while twirling some lettuce on her fork in the air in front of her face.

  My mom was very thin with tan skin and large brown eyes. She was Brazilian and naturally a very curvy, beautiful woman. Her current husband, Dennis, wasn’t a fan of curves though. He “encouraged” her to stick with a strict diet, abandoning carbs and sweets, and now she looked like an anorexic twig. That combined with her drinking made her look sickly. I could see the bones in the exposed back of her Adriana Papell purple lace dress. I quickly looked away from her. The topic was normally a sensitive issue that caused us to fight.

  She asked, “Are you enjoying all of your new classes?”

  “School’s going well,” I lied in the way that made her happy and then prattled on in an even tone. “My new professors seem challenging yet stimulating. I’m looking forward to the rest of the semester.”

  “You make me so proud,” my mother said in a genuine and appreciative voice. She sighed. “I love that you’re furthering your education. I can’t wait for the day when I’m standing in the crowd watching my little girl accept her diploma from an Ivy League School.”

  Guilt washed over me. I had been lying to my mother all summer long about my academic plans. After my freshman year at the University of Pennsylvania, I learned that I hated everything about school. The University, itself, was fine. I loved being in the city, and I loved the freedom of being out of the watchful eyes of the residents of Haddonfield where everyone knew each other. I just didn’t like going to school in general, no matter which school it was. It wasn’t for me.

  In high school, my grades were mediocre at best, but I flourished in sports. That combined with my stepfather’s connections got me a spot into possibly the most prestigious business school in the world. The funny thing is I just sat there, day after day, totally unappreciative for what I had.

  Someone else, more deserving, should have had that spot, not me. I’d show up late to class, never do assignments. My grades were just good enough to keep me in the program. Once freshman year ended, I just never signed up for my sophomore year, and now, classes had already begun. It was too late for me.

  “I can’t wait for that day either,” I smiled weakly.

  “School has done so much for you already,” my mom said after putting down her fork and taking another drink of wine, opting for liquids over solids as usual. I was amazed that she had only gone through three glasses. “You seem so much more confident and in control. Not to mention, you gave me such a pleasant surprise.” I raised a questioning, skeptical eyebrow. “Well, baby, it’s obvious you had gained quite a bit of weight after high school. I was really worried about you because it was becoming almost,” she paused briefly while she thought of the word, “embarrassing, but it seems like you got your figure back just in time before it was too late. You’re nineteen, Adriana. This is the prime age for you to find an acceptable husband. You’ll never attract one unless you’re looking pristine.”

  There it was, the signal ending my meal. Truthfully, I loved my mom. I really did, but she had such poor parenting skills. She always knew just what not to say. Maybe that was the real reason why Nick couldn’t stand her.

  When we were kids, my dad kept the house. It was his family house. He, too, grew up in Haddonfield, so during the divorce procedures, he was ordered to pay her alimony, hand over a large chunk of his retirement fund, and give her the beach house in order to keep the sentimental property. My mom was also given full custody of Nick and I, but we stayed with our dad most of the time, especially when she started dating that first boyfriend.

  It was weird. By the time we got to high school, we rarely saw our mom except for on holidays and birthdays despite the fact she had purchased a new home still within the Haddonfield town limits. It was only recently that we started rekindling our relationship to that more of a mother/daughter connection. To be totally honest, sometimes I regret initiating the bond. Sometimes, I thought I was better off not knowing her.

  “Mom, I should be going,” I said without looking at her. Sometimes, it was just easier being the daughter of Isabel Darth from a whole other state. We had become so much closer with emails rather than meals. “I have work tonight.”

  “Work?” My mom questioned with a look of disgust stained on her Botoxed and artificially sculpted face. She started tapping her flawless, manicured finger nails rhythmically on the table. “I thought you promised me you wouldn’t work that grotesque bartending job during the school year.”

  “I’m probably still going to work weekends,” I huffed while digging into my Michael Kors bag in search of my wallet. I was officially annoyed. “Besides, I happen to enjoy my grotesque bartending job.”

  “Baby, if it’s about money, you know Dennis would be all too ha
ppy to support you,” she was being utterly serious. I don’t know why it still shocked me when she said things like this. “He’s all too happy to pay for Nick’s rent in Boston.”

  “Daddy pays for my tuition as stated in the divorce agreement. The least I could do is pay for rent and my car loan on my own,” I groaned. I didn’t want to accept financial assistance from my mom’s husband. He was the type of guy that would pay something for you, and then hold it over your head for the rest of your life. He was all about having and keeping control. That might work with Isabel, but that certainly wouldn’t work with me.

  My mom sighed and collected her things. I threw down a couple twenties on the table and quickly hugged and kissed her. She brushed some of my hair behind my ear and cooed, “Adriana, I hope you visit me more often. I love seeing my beautiful daughter.”

  It was a plea, a cry for her help. She was begging me not to turn my back on her the way Nick did, the way I did over the past few years. I kissed her back, “I love you, Mom. I’ll call you in a couple days, and we’ll try to get together again at the end of next week.”

  With that, I walked a couple blocks in the direction of the PATCO and purchased a train ticket into Philadelphia. After a short ride, I exited into the hectic city streets and took a cab to my apartment. Normally, I’d walk, but I was wearing sky high heels today. It would be a death sentence to my feet.

  “The Hollander on 16th and Arch,” I instructed the cab driver as he pulled onto Market Street, one of the busiest streets in the city. Instantly, my phone started buzzing. It was my boss, Charlie.

  I answered it. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Can you come in a little early tonight?” He asked in an all too nice voice that was very much unlike him. “Sidney called out again.”

  “Yeah, I’m on my way back to my apartment. Let me just grab a change of clothes, and I’ll come over,” as I hung up, the driver was nearly at my building. I reached into my bag and grabbed some cash. He pulled up in front of my place, and I handed it to him. “Thank you for the ride.” He nodded back at me.

  I raced upstairs quickly to get a change of clothes and then retrieved my car from the valet. When I pulled up at the club, there was a line of antsy customers pouring out of the front door. Crap, they didn’t look too happy. Unhappy customers meant poor tips. I drove around back and parked in the fenced lot that was strictly for employees.

  “Hey Lou,” I said while stumbling out of my new, black Camaro with my purse and keys in one hand and my backpack in the other. The giant bouncer caught me by the shoulder and grabbed my backpack from me. He was remarkably tall and built like a bear. As intimidating as he looked, he was still the biggest sweetheart you could ever meet. “Thanks, Charlie called me to come in a couple hours early. How is it in there?”

  “Crazy,” he answered with a slow shake of his head. He exhaled, and I knew that was a bad sign. Lou had the patience of a saint, and if he was already having problems, I could only imagine what the rest of my night would bring. “The club is packed, and Charlie decided to put a bunch of amateurs out there.”

  “It’s Saturday. Why would he do that?” Just before we got to the entrance of the dressing room, Lou handed me my backpack and gave me a quick hug.

  He whispered into my ear, “Knock ‘em dead,” and released me with a quick peck on the cheek. I waved him goodbye and pushed the closed door open.

  “Hey mama,” Gloria greeted me in only a pair of black, lacey boy-short underwear with her huge, new boobs staring me in the face. We had gotten ours done at the same time. Some girls got best friend necklaces; we got boobs!

  She had black extensions in her dark red hair that curled down to her chest, framing it deliciously. She was a Puerto Rican goddess, one to envy and admire, and blessed with caramel skin and a perfect ass.

  She kissed my cheek. “Good, Charlie called you in, too. I thought I wasn’t going to have any friends tonight.”

  “No, I’m here,” I rolled my eyes and took a seat in front of one of the vanity mirrors. “I was hoping to relax for a couple hours before I had to come in, but it turns out no one knows how to do their damn jobs right.”

  “Trust me. I can tell,” Gloria said while filling up two glasses half full of vodka and half with orange juice. “I made you a drink, baby. Don’t take too long. I think Charlie wants you on in fifteen minutes.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I groaned while covering my eyes in sparkling makeup. I took the drink Gloria had made and chugged it down in just a few seconds. I had become really good at that after working at the club for a couple of months now.

  Quickly, I stripped off my clothing until I was in nothing at all and pulled on a neon pink string bikini that left little to the imagination, clear heels, and of course, my signature piece, a masquerade mask. It was a white mask with pink rhinestones marked around the edges of it and these black feathers peeking out at the sides. Guys loved a girl with mystery. Maybe that’s why I made the most money here.

  I ran out front and signaled to Viv, our resident, topless DJ that I was ready. A look of relief washed over her face, “Thank you, Diamond!” She called over the microphone, ending the music abruptly. A new girl that had been hired a couple weeks ago stopped in mid-dance and shot a look of anger Viv’s way. The audience didn’t seem happy. She had barely made any money. Like the professional she was, she stomped off the stage and spat onto the floor. I laughed. Charlie was going to kick her ass if he saw that, which I’m sure he did. Charlie saw everything.

  The black lights came onto the stage, and a couple of spotlights danced back and forth around the audience. Viv got back on the microphone, “I know it’s been kind of boring in here so far gentlemen,” a couple people jeered or shouted crude remarks, “but it’s time to bring out our A Team. Let’s kick things off with our star performer, Jersey!”

  That was my cue.

  I exhaled slowly and sauntered on stage. The crowd erupted into applause and drunken cheers. I gripped the pole tight in my hands and bent down to shake my ass in the thong bikini. I was in perfect tune to the fast music, a bass trembling Rihanna song. I had become an expert at that. It was probably my favorite thing to do on stage, and my obsession with Rihanna only fueled the fire, making me go crazy.

  The black lights made my most provocative parts glow, begging for attention. The bass of the music quaked around me, making me move in a way that hypnotized the men. A flurry of cash was thrown to the floor beneath my heels.

  I stood up straight and looked up to the ceiling. It was high, surrounded by spotlights. I climbed the pole to the very top, capturing it in my thighs, allowing myself to dangle upside down and stare into the eyes of an older man up front with a pile of money in his hands. I swung back upright and spun down the pole, landing in a split. The crowd cheered, more money was thrown.

  Slowly, I crawled across the stage, keeping eye contact with the man. I stopped directly in front of him and pulled the string from my top loose, releasing my breasts to the crowd. More money flew.

  The man in front of me sat in awe. I knew that look. He was mine. I owned him in this second. His jaw was dropped, practically drooling for me. I licked my lips and slowly sprawled myself out on my back, running my fingers between my legs just inches away from him. From the corner of my eye, I was aware of more money flying from the crowd, but the man in front of me was still so shell-shocked that he held onto all of his cash. Fuck, I was getting frustrated. I only had a little bit of time left, and I needed a big payout for tonight.

  I was becoming desperate, so I scooted to the end of the stage so my butt was left on the floor but my back was dangling down the side into the audience. My face was just inches away from his crotch; my breasts were almost at his eye level. He took both hands, full of cash, and in one swift motion pushed them into my thighs, releasing the money and running his hands towards my bikini area, his fingers gracing my clit.

  My eyes pounded wide open with shock as he touched me, and the music suddenly cut
off. Viv shouted over the mic, “Get this decrepit bastard out of here!” Lou was on the stage within a second as he ripped me out of the guy’s grasp, pulling me to safety away from the wild crowd. A couple of other bouncers surrounded the old guy who was both furious and confused, shouting something about how the “dirty whore” was begging him to touch her.

  I rolled my eyes and collected my cash and top. The bouncers kicked the asshole out, and I waved sweetly and bowed dramatically to the crowd who had erupted into laughter and applause. They knew the deal. You never touch a dancer. The guy was lucky Lou didn’t get a hold of him first. He wouldn’t have been conscious to degrade me.

  I walked into the back and sat down, still topless and sweaty. Modesty was never the number one priority. It was always about the money. From the looks of it, I made out. Even if I didn’t score big anymore tonight, this would still be an excellent Saturday.

  “Are you okay?” Charlie stomped into the back, looking equally as sweaty, although he wasn’t the one who had just been dancing her ass off. Deep lines caved into his forehead, making him look much older than he was. He was only maybe in his mid-thirties. “I can’t believe that fucker went straight for your pussy!”

  “It’s her fault anyway,” Gloria emerged into the room, adjusting her earring and tying her dark red hair up into ponytail. “She’s so damn hot. I can’t keep my hands off her either.” I chuckled at the comment.

  “Fuck,” Charlie shook his head, running a hand through his slick, black hair. I kept my face neutral, securing a band around the cash and locking it away. I didn’t trust these bitches not to steal from me. “Talk to me. Tell me something. Do you want to go home? We’ll be okay. You can go if you’re not up for tonight.”

  “I already came all the way here,” I said, stripping my bikini bottom and removing the mask. It wasn’t the first time someone had grabbed at me, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last. Luckily, we had good bouncers. They were on top of their shit and actually cared about us. “Let me get changed, so I can go back out there.”