Private Show (The Private Series)

by Torella, Danielle

  Private Show

  Copyright 2014 © by Danielle Torella

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover Photographer: Mesha D. White

  Cover Models: Randy Potvin and Danielle Torella

  Cover Designer: Randy Potvin

  Interior Design: Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Author Links

  Fall has crept upon us before we knew it, but then again, they say time flies when you’re having fun. And fun I am having.

  I never thought in a million years that a guy like Ben would fall for a girl like me. But since that night at Chatz, when we had a hot intense quickie in the restroom and when he verbally assaulted everyone, by announcing that I was his girlfriend, things have been pretty great. Pretty great, considering that it’s only been a week since that little rendezvous.

  What makes this time of year even better is that my favorite holiday is this weekend: Halloween!

  I have always been a Halloween junkie since I was a little girl. When most little girls wanted to be Cinderella or that stuck-up Snow White, I wanted to be a bloody corpse, bride of Frankenstein or—no, wait—one year I did go as Belle from Beauty and the Beast, Belle, after Beast had torn off Belle’s arm and chewed out her left eye. Ahhh… memories.

  Mom was always helping me come up with the goriest costume we could conjure up. While most moms would be grossed out or disappointed that their daughter didn’t want to be a princess, mine was smearing fake blood on my face. As an adult, though, I have never been a big clubber when it came to Halloween, because most women like to just wear their underwear as a costume. It’s not even a matter of All Hallows Eve anymore. No, now it’s about who can look the sexiest—or, in most cases, trashiest.

  So I typically sit home and watch all the Halloween movies with bags of popcorn and a huge bowl of candy. Because I live in an apartment building, we don’t even get trick-or-treaters. Man, if I did, I would scare those brats right out of their Kmart costumes.

  Also, after what happened at the first and last club I went to, I don’t know if I would want to step back into another club again. It’s safe to say that Dave really messed me up. I was just lucky enough that Ben was at the club that night for work, because if he wasn’t… well I might not be here today.

  This year, though, Ben insists that we go to his family’s annual Halloween Bash. I’ll meet Ben’s sister Caroline, who he absolutely adores. Ben has looked out for his baby sister since their mother passed away giving birth to Caroline.

  This little family bash is the party to be at for Halloween apparently. Ben told me that the Who’s Who of Seattle goes. There’s a live band and catered dinner, even a ten-foot-long table full of candy and desserts (it’s that last part that won me over, honestly). Every year there is a different theme. And this year’s theme: Music and Movies.

  Ben told me he already has his costume all figured out, and why shouldn’t he? He expects the party every year and has time to plan. I, on the other hand, just learned about this party yesterday and I have three days to come up with something.

  I decide to enlist the help of my gore-master right hand, my mother, and my best friend Erin, who is also going to the party. Apparently that Mark guy she was all over the other week at Chatz is one of the Who’s Who of Seattle, and seeing as he and Erin have been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now, he invited her along. So Erin needs a costume too.

  We decide to hit up some funky thrift stores first. It’s what I have done since I can remember. Besides, who wants to wear a costume bought at a store, in which you will see a dozen other people in the same thing? Not me.

  “OK, girls, what’s the game plan? What are we dressing up as?” my mom asks as we are walking into the first small shop. She is the costume master; she will turn anything into the costume of your dreams. She lives for this just as much as I do. Thankfully this year she has a date and is going out. My mom has dated a little since the divorce, when I was a baby, but never as long with one person as she has been with this guy.

  “Sexy,” Erin says.

  I let out a loud groan and throw my head back, as if in pain. “Why? Why do you want to dress sexy for Halloween? You can be anything. And Erin, you’re already sexy. How could you be any more sexy?”

  “Well, bestie, first of all, thank you for the compliment. Two, I will be something creative yet, but I want to also mess with Mark the whole night.” She gives me an-all-too knowing wink and smile. Yeah, I know what she means: she wants to tease the hell out of the guy. Rile him up and take him home later.

  Mom clears her throat from the next rack over. Great. Me and Mom never quite had an open relationship when it came to sex. Just the typical safe-sex talks, but nothing real. Which reminds me, I have an appointment tomorrow morning about going on the pill. It’s my Halloween surprise for Ben, since he hates using condoms all the time.

  I nudge Erin with my shoulders and we start to giggle. Skimming through the racks, I start to consider Erin’s costume reasoning. It would be fun to tease Ben a little. So I start my quest for my first-ever sexy Halloween costume, but not too sexy since the party is still at his family’s place. Erin is filling her arms up with an array of clothing choices and hauls her butt to the fitting room, leaving her long red hair whipping behind her. Mom heads in the other direction towards the housewares and I decide to wander the
racks and come across shoes.

  I start scanning the shelf from the top, left to right, and the second shelf… nothing good so far. Then I see them. A pair of shoes that I would have died for when I was ten. Baby Spice platform sneakers! Holy Girl Power! Like the spaz I am, I instantly grab for them and hug them. Yes, I just hugged a pair of used shoes, so what? I immediately look on the bottom for the size, and score! Size six. I throw my purse to the ground, kick off my Chucks, and slip the beauties on. I am instantly five inches taller.

  And it hits me. I am so totally going to be Baby Spice for Halloween. Just as my epiphany hits me, Erin comes strutting out of the pulled orange curtain makeshift dressing room, wearing what I can only assume to be a onetime Catholic school-girl uniform meant for the body of a fourteen-year-old. But on Erin, well, I will be honest: If I were a dude, I would have a boner.

  She takes a little spin. “What do you think?” She asks me.

  “Um, well, who are you trying to be?” I ask.

  She grabs the hem of her white button-down dress shirt, pulls it up and ties it in a knot above her navel, then undoes the top three buttons to reveal her black bra. Pulls her hands to the sides of her head and makes pigtails. Oh, my God.

  “Britney. Bitch,” is all she says, and I am on the floor laughing.

  She starts to sway her hips. “Oh, baby, baby,” she sings.

  “Well, you do fit with the theme. No one can top pop culture status like Britney.” I confess.

  “Damn straight.” Erin agrees. Then she takes notice of my latest footwear. “So what do you have happening here?”

  “I am taking the pop star a little before Britney. How about a little Baby Spice?” I say with a raised eyebrow.

  Erin immediately starts clapping her hands, drawing the attention of my mother, who is now walking back to us.

  “Erin, I can only assume…” My mom stops scans my friend from head to toe. “Britney’s Oh Baby stage?” My mom was always on the latest trends when I was younger. Not having many girl-friends as a kid, my mom would make the most of it with me. She even took me to go see Britney one year at our state fair.

  Mom sees that she answered correctly when Erin squealed with excitement. Then her eyes found my new favorite shoes. “Oh, my God, Tess! You finally found a pair huh?” See? Mom knew instantly what I was going for. “Baby Spice, I assume?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  I look over to Erin, who is shaking her head at me. Looking at her watch, Mom appears shocked, “Oh, I didn’t realize how late it was getting. I have to get going, girls, I have a lunch date.” She gives me big hug and a kiss and gives Erin a quick hug. “Make sure you girls take lots of photos of you all done up since, I won’t be seeing you on Saturday.”

  In unison Erin and I answer, “Yes, Mom.” And we all have a little laugh at that. Then Mom’s out the door.

  “Let’s find you the hottest, shortest pink dress to go with those shoes!” Erin squeals at me.

  For the next stop Erin forces me into a non-thrift shop, which goes against every fiber of my being when it comes to Halloween wear. “I just can’t see spending a fortune on something that I am only going to wear once.”

  “Are you kidding me? Once Ben sees you in this hot little number…” She pulls the shortest pinkest dress I have ever seen, off the rack and holds it up to me and finishes her statement, “Who says you’ll only be wearing it once?” She winks.

  True.

  I flick up the price tag and I snort in shock. “Um, Erin I can’t afford this.”

  Okay, seriously, I make coffee for a living.

  She takes my hand and leads me to the plush dressing room of the boutique. Everything is lavender and cream colored with gold accents everywhere. She pushes me in, closes the door between us, with her on the outside and whips the dress in at me.

  “Try it on!” And there’s the bossy Erin.

  I let out a puff and start to undress, knowing it’s not worth the energy to fight Erin, especially when it comes to fashion and I am running low on my caffeine intake. I get my Chucks, jeans and black sweater off and unclip the thin, very thin pink material off of the hanger. I slip it over my head and look in the mirror. Oh. I like this and I know who would like it even more… Ben.

  “Well?” Erin yells through the shiny white door.

  Shaking my head I proceed to open the dressing room door, to reveal the look to Erin. Her jaw drops instantly and I do a little spin to show it off, knowing she would have told me to do so anyways.

  “I take your stunned silence as a meaning that it’s a keeper?” She nods. “All right then, let’s go find me some white knee highs.”

  “Let’s!” Erin says a little too enthusiastically.

  When I return to the dressing room I am almost tempted to send Ben a little teaser photo of what he’ll soon be seeing for the Halloween party, but I decide not to. I want to blow him out of the water. I don’t think he would ever expect this costume. I take one more glance in the mirror. Man, I will be paying for this dress on my credit card for at least a year.

  Erin and I navigate some stockings for me in the hosiery section of the boutique and Erin buys a sexy little number for Mark to see her in later tonight. I think about doing the same, until I notice the price on the thong in her hands… forty bucks for a tiny bit of material makes no sense to me especially since Ben would probably rip them to smithereens. I giggle at the thought.

  “What was that little giggle about?” Erin asks, with a half-smile and an all too knowing look on her face. I don’t say a word. “Ah, I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?”

  “Mhmm… You’re thinking about Ben ripping these off of you,” Erin states, not questioning. I feel my cheeks heating. “Aww, that’s cute! You still blush when you think about him!”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah… let’s get out of here before I decide to max out my credit card.”

  Giggling, we make our purchases, as we are walking out of the door, Erin asks “Hey, you okay to get home on your own? I want to give Mark a little fashion show of my recent purchase.” She says with a wink and a lift of her hot pink bag.

  “Oh, yeah go ahead, you nympho,” I tease.

  “You know it!” She gives me a big hug and we part ways.

  I don’t live far from the boutique and it’s a nice late afternoon, so I decide to grab a coffee. Once I make my way into the Starbucks on the corner across the street, I don’t need time deciding on my order. I take a large sip of my vanilla latte and make my way to a window seat. Looking out the window, I see a couple walk by, holding hands, which makes me miss Ben, which is crazy, because I just saw him yesterday. Oh, well. Feeling playful, I grab for my phone, snap a photo of my view outside of the window. I attach the photo to a text message and write Come find me.

  I instantly get a reply back. Hide and seek?

  Mhmm… I reply.

  Ding, another response. Do I get any other clues?

  Thinking, I snap a photo of my coffee cup, which adorns the ever-popular Starbucks logo.

  Send.

  A few moments go by before Ben texts back, You know, there are over 120 Starbucks in Seattle right? With that reply, I snort out a laugh. I can just hear his velvety accent.

  I bring attention to myself with the snort. Covering my face I take another sip of my coffee. I turn to look back out the large window and I spit out my coffee. If I had a couple looks after the snort I have the full attention of the whole café now.

  But he is standing right there.

  Ben is standing right in front of the window smiling at me.

  Son of a bitch.

  Seriously, I sprayed my coffee all over the window. And he’s standing out there laughing his ass off, hunched over, full-on holding his stomach. Quickly grabbing my napkin I start to wipe the window off. My cheeks are on fire with embarrassment. I hear light laughter from all corners of the coffee shop. Great. I look back at him, taking in a deep breath
, before he points to the door to signal that he’s on his way in.

  I flip him the bird.

  By the time he is in front of me I have almost all my latte off the window. He is still bearing an ear to ear smile and biting his lips to refrain from further laughter. I put my fists on my hips and try to look angry, but I fail miserably and start to laugh myself.

  “Jerk,” I snip.

  Taking in a deep breath, he leans in close, “Hey, I didn’t make you spit… in fact, you don’t normally spit.” His look changes in an instant with his insinuation, from relaxed to hot, with his “I need you now” kind of look. And it goes right to my core.

  “All right, let’s get you a refill, since I so rudely made you waste so much of yours.” And he leaves it at that. He goes to order our drinks, and knows just what I want, which is really sweet.

  Stopping at the table holding our cups I wait for him to sit, but he doesn’t. “Aren’t you going to sit?” I ask.

  His smile is sly. “I was hoping we could take these to go.”

  Oh.

  I eagerly get to my feet and reach for my purse and shopping bags. “What do you got there?” Ben asks, pointing to my loot.

  “Erin, my mom and I went out scavenging for Halloween costume supplies.”

  With his hot hooded gaze he asks, “Can I see?”

  “No, sir.” We exit the café, with the bell dinging behind us.

  “Why not?”

  Taking my coffee from him, he tries to take hold of my bags, but I jerk them away before he succeeds. This took him by surprise, “I am not showing you, because it’s a surprise. You can’t see until the Halloween party on Saturday.”

  “All right then.”

  We start walking down the block, when we turn into a small parking lot, where Ben has his coveted ‘69 GTO waiting. “Where were you when I sent you the text?”

  “Picking up some dry cleaning, I recognized the storefront in front of the Starbucks. I was only a block away… lucky me.” He finishes with a wink. “Where’s your car?”

  “I grabbed a ride with Erin, but she wanted to take off right after buying some sexy underwear and was eager to show her boyfriend. And seeing as I live not far from the shop we were at, I didn’t mind walking home.”