In Bed with the Beast_The Naughty Princess Club

by Tara Sivec

  “Well, have a good night at work! I’ll see you later. Well, not later, since you’ll be at work. So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I ramble, turning around and practically racing through the front door, not giving him a chance to lecture me about my date.

  * * *

  “I really loved how the ending tied everything together. As soon as I finished it, I started back over at the beginning.”

  My date, Steven Luminous, chuckles as he talks about one of my favorite books, and I can’t help but laugh right along with him. To say this date is the polar opposite of the one with Gus is putting it mildly. Steven has been nothing but a perfect gentleman since he picked me up at the library earlier. I was so upset after my meeting with the board that I almost called him to cancel, not feeling in the mood for another disaster. The board just sat there, staring at me with bored expressions on their faces when I told them about my Dress Like an Idiom idea, as well as a whole list of others that would hopefully bring more people into the library. Author book signings, hosting field trips for local schools, creative-writing workshops presented by local authors, a used book sale; I had three, hand-written pages of ideas I knew would generate more interest in the library. It’s incredibly sad that we need to come up with gimmicks to get people in the door. What ever happened to showing up just for the good old-fashioned love of reading? They told me they just didn’t think any of those ideas would work, and it was time for me to realize that trying to save the library was a lost cause. But I refuse to give up. They haven’t shut the place down yet, and they begrudgingly gave me a month to “get my affairs in order”.

  As soon as Steven walked in the door, it was on the tip of my tongue to apologize to him and ask if we could reschedule, but his eyes lit up as he looked around the first floor of the library. When he asked me to take him on a tour, my bad mood instantly lifted. With his short-cropped blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and five o’clock shadow, he’s definitely a very good-looking man. Wearing a nice pair of dark jeans and a brown, burgundy, and tan argyle sweater with a tan button-down underneath, he’s dressy casual. This tells me that he didn’t want to overdo it with a suit like that idiot Gus, but he also wanted to look nice and cared about making a good first impression.

  We spent an hour just walking around while he pointed out all of the books he’d read, asking me which ones were my favorites. He didn’t talk about himself constantly or even mention one word about money, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything I had to say, even complimenting me on my work at the library. He took me to one of my favorite Mexican restaurants just outside of town, and as soon as we sat down, I asked him if we were going to split the check, secretly crossing my fingers under the table. Even though my stomach had started growling loudly from all the delicious smells as soon as we walked in, I had already resigned myself to ordering only a glass of water and inhaling the free chips and salsa, just in case. His eyes widened, and he asked me what kind of a gentleman would ever make a date pay for dinner. I instantly relaxed and wondered if it would be rude to excuse myself from the table to call Cindy and Ariel and let them know Steven more than made up for what they put me through with Gus.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  Our waitress stops by the table, and I suddenly realize she’s already been here twice, asking us the same thing. I glance around the restaurant as Steven politely tells her no and asks for the check, noticing we’re the only ones left in the restaurant. Looking down at my watch as he pulls his wallet out of his pocket, I do a quick calculation and realize that we’ve been here for over three hours. That poor waitress probably wants to kill us.

  “Looks like they’re trying to kick us out. I didn’t even realize it was almost closing time,” Steven says, a smile lighting up his handsome face. “I have to say, I’m not ready for the night be over yet.”

  He reaches across the table and rests his hands on top of mine, and butterflies start flapping around in my stomach. This is exactly how I pictured a date should go. A sweet, smart, charming, well-read man who opened doors for me, pulled out my chair at the table, and kept his cell phone out in his car, telling me, “I think it’s rude to take a cell phone on a date. You should enjoy the company of the person you’re with instead of checking social media.”

  I could literally feel myself swoon when he said those words. And now, his soft, warm hands are holding mine and he’s looking across the table at me expectantly, almost shyly. This is it. This is my moment to finally get some experience. I’m not going to do anything stupid like sleep with him on a first date, but I am not opposed to going somewhere private and doing a little kissing.

  “I’m not ready for the night to be over yet either,” I tell him softly, with a smile.

  All of a sudden, Vincent’s face flashes through my mind. Particularly how ticked off he looked when I told him I was going on another date. I wonder if he’s thinking about me at work right now. I wonder if I’ll be ruining any chance of things possibly going further with him by warming up with a few other men first. I immediately feel guilty about my thoughts when I’m sitting across from a wonderful man who doesn’t drive me crazy with his overbearing, curt ways, so I shake them away, giving Steven a bright smile.

  “I hope you won’t think this is forward of me, since we just met, but I feel a real connection with you, Isabelle. What would you say to getting out of here and going somewhere a little more private?” Steven asks with a hopeful expression on his face.

  Pushing all thoughts of Vincent aside, I nod my head.

  “I think that sounds wonderful.”

  Steven lets out a relieved sigh, looking at something over my shoulder and nodding his head.

  “Tell me, Isabelle, how do you feel about women?”

  “Uh . . . I . . . um . . . I like them?” I reply in confusion.

  “What about group settings?”

  “Oh, I love people!” I tell him excitedly. “I love meeting new people and making new friends. I say, the more the merrier.”

  Steven’s face lights up with a bright smile, and I have to say, I’m a little confused by his line of questioning. But, considering this is a first date, I guess he just wants to know as much about me as he can before we take the next step, which makes him seem even more charming than before.

  “I have to tell you, I thought this online dating thing was going to be a waste of time, but you are just perfect in every way,” Steven says, and the compliment makes me blush.

  I open my mouth to thank him when suddenly a woman comes up from behind me, taking a seat next to Steven. He removes one of his hands from on top of mine, swinging his arm around the woman and resting it on the back of her chair.

  She is positively stunning, with long, poker-straight blonde hair and wearing a skintight red, strapless dress. The yellow-lace long-sleeved A-line dress I’m wearing, which Ariel preapproved, and my hair up in a high ponytail with my long bangs swooped down to the side of my face suddenly seem very basic and childish compared to this woman.

  “Isabelle, this is Stephanie. My wife,” Steven says with a smile.

  Every good thing about this man suddenly vanishes with an audible pop in my brain, like someone just stuck a pin in a balloon. I yank my hand out from under Steven’s and hold my palms up in the air like Stephanie might pull out a gun at any moment and point it at me.

  “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” I quickly say to Stephanie, praying she doesn’t cause a scene and vault over the table to claw my eyes out. “You have to know, I had no idea he was married. I would have never accepted a date from a married man!”

  I shoot a murderous look at Steven and point my finger at him.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself!” I yell at him just above a whisper. “You’re a liar. Luminous the Liar, that’s what your name should be.”

  Even though we’re the only ones left in this restaurant, I really don’t want to be kicked out for causing a scene. They have the best chips and salsa in the entire world.

&n
bsp; Stephanie laughs softly and reaches across the table to grab my hand, which I’m still pointing at Steven accusatorily.

  “You are so adorable,” she tells me before turning to look at her husband. “Didn’t I tell you just by looking at her profile picture that she’d be adorable and perfect?”

  Steven nods, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

  “You were right, and I was wrong. Are you happy now?” he jokes.

  They share a loving look, and I look around the restaurant for our waitress, wondering if she was a figment of my imagination because this has got to be an episode of The Twilight Zone I’m living right now.

  “Could someone please explain to me what’s going on?”

  Stephanie pats my hand reassuringly.

  “We’d like you to come home with us.”

  I look at her in complete and total confusion.

  “You know, for a threesome,” Steven adds.

  I jerk my hand out of Stephanie’s and push my chair back from the table so quickly I almost topple backwards. As it is, my feet tangle together when I stand, and I take a few stumbling steps away from the table, smacking my hip into the empty table next to us, sending a few empty glasses toppling over.

  “Threesomes are common as a fantasy. Next to lesbian, threesome is the most popular search term for women looking for porn online, according to 2014 analytics from Pornhub, one of the world’s largest such sites, which also found that the threesome category is seventy-five percent more likely to be searched by a woman than by a man. And yeah, so I might be one of those people who Googled threesome before, and you seem like a very lovely couple, but no thank you!” I ramble, turning around and running as fast as I can out of the restaurant.

  Chapter 14: I Took Care of It

  “Will you stop taking notes and pay attention,” Ariel whispers harshly in my ear.

  I look up from my notebook guiltily and glance across the living room at Cindy. My face heats with embarrassment and the skin on the back of my neck starts to prickle.

  “This is weird. Isn’t this weird for you?” I whisper back out of the corner of my mouth as our friend takes off her last article of clothing, leaving her in nothing but a black lace bra, matching pair of boy shorts, and sparkly silver stilettos.

  I squeeze one of my eyes closed and my shoulders curl up by my ears when she turns to face us, giving us a wink as she starts dancing sensually for the man seated in the chair right behind her.

  Cindy decided a field trip was in order and brought Ariel and I along to this bachelor party in order to stand quietly in the corner and watch her work so we’d know what to expect. PJ has been accompanying her to all of her bookings to act as a bodyguard until we’re making enough money to hire someone, and since tonight was going to be a busy night at Charming’s, he was more than happy to give that job to us so he could go into work.

  “It’s only weird because you haven’t been paying attention,” Ariel argues, giving Cindy a thumb’s up when she bends forward and shakes her butt towards the groom-to-be.

  “I have too been paying attention,” I tell her, looking back down at the notebook in my hand. “Step one, greet the customers and politely tell them the rules about no touching themselves or the dancer during the performance. Step two, hook your cell phone up to their sound system with the music playlist ready to go. Step three—”

  Ariel snatches the notebook and pen out of my hands and tosses them to the floor.

  “If you’re not going to watch, at least tell me why you’re in such a bad mood tonight. You’re not still mad about the whole Steven thing are you? We already apologized and promised to do a more thorough background check on your next date,” Ariel reminds me.

  “I’m not in a bad mood. And I will hold a grudge for the Gus and the Steven thing until the end of time.”

  I cross my arms in front of me with a huff and realize Ariel is right. I have been in a bad mood, and not just tonight. I’ve been in a bad mood for an entire week, and it’s all Vincent’s fault. I haven’t seen him at all since I ran out of his house the morning of my date with Steven. Just like he told me when he convinced me to live with him, he’s worked until all hours of the morning, coming home long after I’m asleep, and staying in bed until after I leave to go to the library. We’re like two ships passing in the night, and it kind of sucks.

  Not to mention the fact that after coming home from another disastrous date, I expected to find him sitting on the couch like the first time, all set to lecture me. I was more than a little sad to walk through the door that night and find the house empty, and that just confuses the heck out of me. Even though his attitude was frustrating, in a way, I thought it was kind of sweet that he stayed home to make sure I was okay. Obviously that’s not really why he stayed home, and obviously he didn’t care if my date turned out to be a homicidal maniac. He just went to work without giving me a second thought. Clearly he knows I didn’t die on my date, since I’m still living at his house, but still . . . I thought maybe he was starting to like me a little bit and that’s why he was so protective and irritating. It really stings to know I was wrong.

  “Have you gotten to know Beast on a deeper level yet? Shared a nice bottle of Merlot and talked about his feelings?” Ariel whispers in my ear, interrupting my thoughts.

  “No. It was a stupid idea. He doesn’t like me like that,” I grumble, watching Cindy move away from the groom-to-be to start dancing for the best man.

  “It’s not a stupid idea. I saw the way he looked at you.”

  “What if I put myself out there and he laughs at me? What if he tells me he has no interest in me that way? What if—”

  Ariel interrupts me. “What if my dad had tits and I called him Mom? Who cares about what ifs? As much as I hate to admit that I was wrong, maybe online dating wasn’t the best idea for you.”

  “Gee, you think?!”

  “Shut up and let me finish,” Ariel fires back. “You’re never going to get the whole male-experience thing you need with strangers. And you’re also not going to get those butterflies you want with someone you don’t know. You were comfortable enough with Beast to move in with him. You’re getting to know him. You need to just bite the bullet and flirt with him without analyzing it to death.”

  The idea of attempting to flirt with that man makes me feel a little sick to my stomach. Even though Ariel says I shouldn’t care about all the things that could go wrong, I can’t help it. I’m a list maker. I’m a planner. It takes me ten days to just pick out what books to order for the library, making a list of pros and cons for each book. This is a huge step for me we’re talking about here.

  My phone starts buzzing in the pocket of my dress, stopping me from coming up with something to say to Ariel about why I can’t just walk up to Vincent, bat my eyelashes at him and ask him if he likes me, like a middle schooler with her first crush.

  Pulling the phone out of my pocket and not recognizing the number on my screen, I quickly walk out of the living room and into the foyer of the home before pressing the button to answer it and bring it up to my ear.

  “Isabelle? It’s Steven. Steven Luminous.”

  What the hell?

  I make a weird choking sound through the line, embarrassment flooding through me when I think about what happened on our date and how I’d never run so fast in my life as when I left that restaurant. Why in the world would he be calling me?

  “I meant to call you sooner, but I’ve been really busy at work,” he says. “I just wanted to call and apologize for what happened last week. I really am very sorry for doing that to you. It was rude and uncalled for and . . . I’m just really sorry.”

  I couldn’t be more shocked right now if my dad walked through the door and told me he made a huge mistake.

  “Um, thank you?”

  I don’t mean for the words to come out as a question, but this is honestly the last phone call I expected to ever get.

  “You really are a very lovely, beautiful, smart, a
nd interesting woman, Isabelle. I cannot apologize enough for my behavior. Hold on one second, my wife would like to speak to you as well.”

  And the strangeness just keeps on coming.

  “Isabelle? Hi, it’s Stephanie! I’d like to apologize as well for what Steven and I did. I’ve just been beside myself since you ran out of that restaurant and, you know, for what happened after you left. . . .” She trails off.

  “What happened after I left?”

  “Oh! I mean . . . you know . . . we just talked after you left, and we knew what a huge mistake we made, and we felt really bad about it,” she quickly replies. “I really hope this doesn’t deter you from online dating forever. I mean, it’s how I met Steven, and we are so happy together.”

  You’re so happy together you decided to pick up a random stranger to sleep with you?!

  Good God, does no one believe in fairy tales and happily ever after anymore? I’m pretty sure if Prince Charming came home to the castle one night and suggested he and Cinderella should spice things up with a third party, she would shove her glass slipper up his ass.

  “Well . . . um . . . thank you for calling, I guess,” I reply lamely.

  I end the call after Stephanie makes me promise that we’ll go for coffee sometime soon. I walk back into the living room with a confused expression on my face and quietly explain to Ariel what just happened.

  “Seriously—when you get home tonight, the first thing you’re going to do is march your ass up to Vincent and kiss him. If you have to go on one more of these dates, your head is going to explode.”

  As we wait for Cindy to finish up, I sneakily grab my discarded notebook and pen from the floor, flipping to a new page and writing down a list the pros and cons of making the first move with Vincent. The cons definitely outweigh the pros, especially the item at the top of that column, which I’ve circled ten times: He doesn’t care about me even a little bit.

  * * *

  I set my purse on the kitchen island and let out a tired sigh.