Private Show (The Private Series)

by Torella, Danielle

  11:02: Tess?

  11:16: Are you ok? Call me.

  11:34: Call me.

  11:45: What the hell Tess what’s going on?

  12:01: You’re scaring the shit out of me.

  His voicemail messages were along the same lines. Shit. I quickly dial his number, feeling a little guilty. He answers on the second ring. “Tess! What the fuck? I have been going crazy over here trying to get a hold of you! Are you OK? Where are you? I went to your place when you didn’t answer your phone or my texts. Are you mad at me? Did I do something?” He just kept going on, not letting me assure him that I was perfectly fine. But man, does he sound crazed. A mix of scared, livid, relieved and finally sexy.

  “I am fine. I am over at Erin’s,” I simply tell him.

  He sighs with relief. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  “I had it on silent at work and I must have forgotten to turn it back on. We’re just hanging out, having pizza and watching movies.” Like a normal girl in her early twenties does… geez.

  He clears his throat. “Are you heading home soon?” His voice sounds deep and sensual. Oh my. Ben’s accent mixed with the rum in my system is doing things to me, things that I need taken care of.

  “I have been drinking. I can’t drive.”

  Keeping his voice low he asks me, “Do you want me to come get you?”

  Do I?

  “I do, but I don’t.” I say, not thinking. But I also just need a girl’s night, it’s refreshing. He will just have to understand.

  “What do you mean by that?” He’s a little defensive.

  I try to recover the conversation, “No, Ben, I do, but I want to wait until the party before we…”

  As if he understands, he jumps in. “Oh. OH! You need a few days.”

  “What? No! I am not on my period!” I explode and I hear Erin blast a laugh from across the room. My face is red from embarrassment and slight anger. “Why would you assume that?”

  “Well, what other reason do you have to not want to see me tonight?”

  Damn rum. I can’t think of something quick enough, “Because I want to wait till the night of the party. I have a surprise for you.”

  “What kind of surprise?” He’s amused.

  I need to put my filter on, which is apparently already filled with rum. Shit. “Look, I am buzzed and I don’t want to ruin the surprise I have for you. Now please stop asking before I spill the beans.”

  He’s laughing. “OK, OK, I’ll stop hounding you. Did you really just say spill the beans? How crocked are you?”

  “Uh, well I have had a couple of Erin’s drinks so… I’d say pretty crocked.”

  His laughter slowing and fading, “OK, babe, have fun with your friend. I…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

  “You…?” I know what I want him to say, but will he say it over the phone for the first time? I don’t know, but I would rather hear it in person. I have never been told ‘I love you’ from a guy before. That was reserved for my mom. Not even my friends growing up would say it to me.

  I can practically hear the hamster spinning the wheel in his head, as he thinks about his next set of words. “I… can’t wait to see what costume you decided on for tomorrow night and I can’t wait to see you. I miss you like crazy.”

  Nice save.

  I sigh. Even though I cannot wait to hear him say those words, knowing he misses me after a short amount of time swells my heart. I know that when he says it, he’ll make it perfect. “I miss you too.”

  “Bye baby.”

  “Bye.”

  The next morning Erin and I wake up holding our heads. “How much did we drink?” I gurgle out.

  She’s covering her eyes to shield it from the blinding light from the morning sun. “The whole liquor store, I’d say.”

  The remainder of last night after getting off the phone with Ben was pretty much a blur. I feel bad that he was worried. I don’t want him to worry; I do enough of that on my own.

  For one thing I don’t know what the current judicial standing is with Dave and when or if he will be released. But the big concern is how fast I have fallen for Ben. I don’t know how strongly he feels for me. Yes, he has told me over and over how crazy he is about me. But am I enough for him? I suppose only time will tell.

  Erin is in front of me now, snapping her fingers in my face. “Hello, earth to Tess! Come in Tess!”

  Blinking rapidly drawing my attention back to my red headed friend, “Yeah, sorry.”

  “So, you wanna?”

  “Want to what?”

  Throwing her hands on her hips, she puffs a loose strand of her hair from her face. “Go grab some coffee?”

  I’m smiling. “Always.”

  Erin loans me a pair of jeans which I have to roll up, because I am like half a foot shorter than she is and a sweater to wear before we leave for the little café just down the block from Erin’s place. It’s not overly busy this late morning, and it’s comfortable in here. The cute barista flirts with Erin and she flirts right back. I nudge her shoulder after the blond-haired, green-eyed barista boy saunters off to make our coffee.

  “Uh, what was that?” I ask her.

  “What?” She shrugs and smirks.

  “What about Mark?”

  She giggles and rolls her eyes. “Wow, you really are innocent, aren’t you? Mark and I are okay, but there’s nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting… besides, he seems to have a wandering eye…”

  Barista boy is back to ring up our order. “It’s on the house.” He gives Erin a little wink.

  She leans in to read his name tag. “Thank you… Kevin.” She blows him a little kiss. I raise my cup and offer a “cheers” to the guy as thanks. Huh, guess her flirting quite literally pays off.

  “See?” Is all she has to say.

  We sit and sip our hot rich drinks. Licking her lips, Erin speaks. “So are you excited about the party?”

  “I am really excited about tonight! This is the first time that I have dressed up non-scary.”

  Erin looks shocked and confused. “Wait, you have never been a slutty nurse or a whorish nun? Really? Most of the girls our age wouldn’t be caught dead in a gory costume.”

  “Oh, believe me, I know! I have nothing against it. It just wasn’t ever for me. Although there was this one year when I wore a dress… I went as Carrie, post-prom.”

  Erin laughs, and then switches the subject to Mark. “He is going as Justin Timberlake, during his N’SYNC days. He is the Justin to my Britney… bitch.”

  I can’t help but laugh, “Are you going to finish with ‘Bitch’ after every time you say Britney tonight?”

  “Duh.”

  I shake my head, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

  “Yes. Yes it is. Now what do you have planned for today?”

  “Um, nothing really, other than sit and watch the clock.”

  Judging by the expression on her face, Erin disapproves.

  “Well, how about we make today a pampering day? My treat.”

  Never having been to a spa, I agree.

  Erin claps her hands with excitement, “Yay! OK, let’s go!”

  And I admit I am pretty damn excited about this. I have been working hard all my life, even more so since graduating high school. I mean, hell, I have never even had a manicure in my entire life. We walk back to Erin’s complex and jump into my little red baby, and Erin tells me where to go, and when we pull up to the lush building I think I pee my pants a little. This place is gorgeous! Very upscale, you can tell the light stone that the structure is made out of was laid by hand. The flowers and landscaping was something out of a magazine photo spread. There is even a valet.

  The valet guy opens my door and helps me out. Now this is something new. I hand him my keys and he eyes my oldie-but-a-goodie of a car, tells us to enjoy our visit. Another man greets Erin by name and I can only assume she is a regular here.

  Inside, Erin grabs my hand, smiles at the desk clerk, and says, �
�The Girlfriend Package, please.”

  The next thing I know I am in a candlelit room, on a massage table, being smeared with chocolate. I don’t know, they said it helps to detox the body or something, but I would much rather be eating it. Erin tells me about her childhood and her family. She grew up in a normal home, not filthy rich, but enough to be very comfortable. Mom and Dad are still together and Erin is an only child.

  “They wanted to have another after they had me, but they never succeeded. I always wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister.”

  I grab her hand. “You know what it’s like to have a sister… now.” She gives me a big smile and I see a little tear creep down her cheek. It’s true, though; well, at least for me. I feel like I have gained not only a friend out of Erin but a really awesome sister. She tells it like it is; hell, if she didn’t push or put me in my place about Ben, I don’t know if we would be together right now. I love her like a full-blooded sister.

  We head to get our nails done next. Erin insists that I have to have bubble-gum pink to match my dress for this evening, to coordinate with my Baby Spice costume. Erin decides on a classic French tip, to keep the schoolgirl Britney look fresh. We sit next to one another as the manicurists start to set up and take our hands to begin.

  Erin wiggles with excitement. “Ben and all his British hotness is going to spaz when he sees you in your little costume tonight, Tess!”

  The girl working on my nails snickers slightly. “I hope so!” I admit.

  “Are you serious? He is going to die! That or”—she leans in a little closer to my ear— “come right on the spot!” I gasp, when I feel a sharp poke on my ring finger.

  “Oh, I am sorry.” The platinum blonde manicurist says after pushing my cuticle back a little too hard. I try to shrug it off, but there was something in her tone that didn’t sit right.

  Erin could sense it too. “Is there a problem?” Erin asks.

  The blonde looks at her, shrugs her shoulders and raises an eyebrow. Oh, there is a problem, all right. “You’re talking about Ben Mitchell, right?”

  I look over to Erin, who appears to be annoyed. “What’s it to you?” Erin asks.

  The overly processed blonde butchering my nails bobs her head side to side on her over fake and baked shoulders. She draws her thin pink lips in and bites down on them.

  “Well?” Erin snaps.

  The beautician looks up at my face. “You’re seeing Ben Mitchell tonight?”

  I don’t want to tell this perfect stranger my personal business, but I am curious to know what she does. “Yes,” I said.

  One of her eyebrows shoots up and her mouth gapes open.

  “Why so surprised?” Erin says.

  “Oh, well… I know Ben.” She gives a little wink, and I feel like I might throw up. “He doesn’t typically make plans in advance with a woman. He is more of the booty call at two a.m. or hook up from Chatz, not a ‘date’ kind of guy.” She continues to apply the pink color to my nails, and thankfully she is nearly done. I need to get out of this room.

  Erin, sensing how uncomfortable I am, jumps in. “Well, maybe he was that type of guy a while ago, but now he has found someone worth making plans with and not a one-night fuck.” The girl doing her nails snickers, and I am thinking she doesn’t care for Miss Fake and Bake either. As my beautician finishes my last swipe of color, she stands right up and storms off.

  The other manicurist doing Erin’s set takes in a deep breath, controlling her laughter. “Hey, don’t let Angela push your buttons. That girl is a gold digger and a slut. If this Ben guy slept with her once, who gives a crap? From what I just heard he found something worth his while.”

  As we pay for our treatments, I look at the clock and see that we have a couple of hours left until Ben picks me up. Erin finds it highly amusing that this Angela was forced to ring us out, and honestly, so do I. My phone rings. It’s Ben. Oh this is going to be bittersweet.

  “Hey Ben.” I force my voice a little louder for the bitch to hear.

  “Hey, Punky. Everything all right? You sound a little odd.” Ben knows something is up. He always does.

  I lick my lips and I nudge Erin’s foot with mine, to get her to pay attention. She smiles mischievously. “Everything is great, babe. Erin and I are just finishing up a little spa day.” I catch Blondie eyeing me.

  I hear Ben sigh on the other end, “I hope you feel relaxed then, because there is no way anyone could make you any more beautiful than you already are.”

  I don’t know how to respond when he says things like that, so I try to divert the topic. “So, do you have your costume all set? I can’t wait to see it!”

  I turn away from the counter and step away, not wanting to share any more of my business. I don’t want to share any part of my guy with anyone… ever. He is mine and only mine, just as I am only his. I cannot imagine being with another man emotionally or sexually. I know Ben has been with lots of women and that worries me constantly, but he assures me that I am enough for him. I think he was filling his life with women in the past, because of what his ex-fiancé pulled on him back in college.

  “Hey babe, I gotta go. Erin is waiting for me. I can’t wait to see you later.”

  “Oh, neither can I. I am curious to find out about this little surprise you have for me.”

  At home, as I get ready, I am cranking some good ol’ Spice Girls. I style my hair into pigtails, ala Baby Spice, and apply some light glittery eye shadow and some simple lip gloss.

  After I have it all on I skip to my full length mirror, and I am giddy with excitement. Oh! I almost forgot about my temporary tattoo! I rush to my purse and fish out the small sheet of temporary tattoos, cut out the British flag and slap that bitch on! Observing my good handy work, I think how I will look with a real tattoo… What would I get?

  I hear a light rapping at my door.

  Right on time. I grab a lollipop as I head for the door.

  “Fuck me” are the first words out of his beautiful mouth. I feel confident and sexy. Maybe it’s him or maybe it’s all the Spice Girls and the “girl power.” Either way, I am feeling it.

  “You like?” I ask, doing a little spin. I stop facing him and take notice of his odd costume. White dress shirt, slacks and a clear see through raincoat. Then I notice the fake axe and it all comes together and I blurt it out: “American Psycho!”

  Ben laughs, and I think he is a little surprised I guessed it right off the bat. How could I not? It’s one of my all-time favorite movies. Yep, definitely not like most girls my age…

  Ben eyes my body from top to bottom, bringing his right hand to his mouth and dragging his thumb over his lush bottom lip, his tongue trailing in its path. I feel like panting, that it so hot.

  “Baby Spice?” His voice is smooth and deep.

  As seductively as I can, I slowly remove the lollipop from my mouth, and poke my tongue out and lick the sweet confection. I hear a groan escape Ben’s throat and then his left hand reaches down to his dress pants and takes hold of himself. I can visually make out the definition of his growing erection in his hand.

  “Tess.”

  “Ben?”

  “What are you doing to me? Look at you. How am I going to be around you all night, around my parents nonetheless, when you look like this?” He gestures with his free hand up and down my body. “I should just take you right here right now, over that red sofa like I wanted to, the first time I set foot in this place.”

  Everything inside tenses in a good way, I squeeze my thighs together and I can feel my excitement building. “Not yet.” I tell him. I don’t want to rush this, not tonight. Not while it will be our first time with nothing between us. As I am saying these words he is walking towards me and I didn’t even realize I was backing up, further into my place.

  “I want to wait until after the party, Ben.”

  “Why?” his voice is husky and raw… sexy.

  He is so close, I can feel his breath on my skin, but yet he isn’t t
ouching me. This only makes my decision to wait for later that much more difficult.

  “I have my reasons.”

  He turns and stalks back to the front door, and I can’t help but watch his tight British ass walk away. “Have it your way, baby.”

  “Oh I will, Mr. Bateman.” I stop next to him, grabbing my little pink purse off of the counter and step past him for the door. He smacks my ass making me jump a little. I squeak and then we are out the door.

  We make the surprisingly short drive just out of the city, east across the Interstate 90 bridge to Mercer Island, to a neighborhood that resembles a cul-de-sac, but only on a larger scale. I mean, how many cul-de-sacs do you know of that require you to pass through a gated entry? I know Ben’s father is a surgeon, but does an everyday kind of surgeon make this kind of money? I look over at Ben, whose face I cannot read. I take his right hand into my left, looks into my eyes and offer a soft smile. It can be hard to read him some days.

  He makes a right and pulls into the driveway of a massive house. OK, well, to me it is massive. Mom and I did the apartment thing and once we got bored in a place we would move to another. Did I want a house growing up? Sure, but I also had no control over it and it’s not like we had the money to do it anyways. Mom always made our dwellings homey and comfortable, and each one felt like a home. Like they say, home is where the heart is.

  There is a line of expensive cars pulled up to the house and I see men in red jackets, escorting the passengers out and driving them off. But I have to question, where? It’s a residence, not a restaurant. When it is our turn I don’t think about it any longer, because my nerves are skyrocketing. For one I have Ben and that’s enough to set any woman off, but I am meeting his sister Caroline. Ben is so close to her and I want to make a good impression. Yes, I know she is only a teenager, but she is his family. I already know his dad, and obviously his girlfriend Gwen Sawyer, who is also my art teacher. But there are a lot of cars here tonight; I wonder who else if attending.

  Ben puts one arm around my waist and carries his axe in the other. It’s kind of funny to be held by a man wearing a blood-splattered rain coat and feel so hot and turned on.