The Dark Scarlett

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The Dark Scarlett Page 27

by Aven Jayce


  “Trust me, Hav, you should stop there. I’ve tried to talk to her about her family and she becomes raging mad. There aren’t even any photos of them around our place.”

  “Why the hell would I have any desire to look at their faces each day? Do you honestly want to wake up with a photograph of my father next to our bed? Or see my mother hanging on our wall?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Well, then give it a rest.” Anger stirs in her voice as she pokes at her salmon. “My mother’s in her own little world that’s surrounded by a spiked iron fence. You have to be careful when you enter or you may find yourself tossed in the air only to land with a spike through your heart. And my brother? He’s the type of person who would stand next to you while you’re stuck on that fence and laugh in your face at your pendulous arms and legs.”

  “Shit,” Alyssa, Haverty, and I all whisper.

  Sophia taps her watch at the time. We need to finish and be at the Scarlett in thirty minutes.

  “Jimmy... dang it, I love calling you by that name,” I grin. “When we’re finished with dinner, can you follow us to our building so we can get rid of our car for the night?”

  “Sure thing, boss,” he winks. “I’ve missed driving the two of you around. Let me drop Alyssa off first and then I’ll be right over.”

  The screen on Sophia’s cell lights up and a text appears. I capture it before she has a chance to react, only to feel a stab of jealousy upon seeing Evan’s name and the words see you tonight sent to her phone. It’s that guy from her Facebook site. I toss it on the table in aggravation, but grab it again with a sudden change in mood, making a split decision to conceal the cell inside her purse. ‘Evan’ doesn’t need to be hanging out between us on the table while we eat. I catch a glimpse of the folded check inside an open pocket before placing the purse on the floor between us. She’s got the money, and some random guy is contacting her. This is bullshit.

  “What the hell just happened?” Haverty asks.

  “That’s what I’d like to know. What’s wrong with you? I’d never look at your messages and fling your cell around like that. It’s rude.”

  “That’s because I’m not hiding anything; you are,” I speak sharply.

  “Excuse me?” she says in a drawn out tone with her eyebrows raised. “Every day I find something that you’ve hidden from me.”

  “Oh, hell no. You two aren’t going to end the evening in a brawl,” Alyssa pushes her empty plate away and leans back. “Come on now, spill the beans. Whatcha got going on?”

  I stare at Sophia and exhale. I’ll keep my cool... give her the benefit of the doubt... let her answer before I fume. “Who’s Evan and where and why are you meeting him tonight?”

  “Oops. Shit girl, for realz? So you’re the one with another love interest? There’s always someone in the group, you know? Is he a blowup doll like Jimmy’s got?”

  “He’s not a love interest. Just an old friend,” Sophia says to Alyssa without looking at me. “You’re a snoop, Cove,” she whispers with her head down while finishing her meal.

  “If some woman sent me a text two days in a row and you knew I was going to meet her, but I didn’t even mention her to you, what would you think? Seriously, you can’t be angry over this. I’m the one who should be annoyed.”

  She sets her fork down, unclips her hair, letting it fall gracefully over her shoulders and flashes an embarrassed smile across the table toward our guests. “Why didn’t you tell me about the advertising deal with Kaitlyn?” she asks.

  “Because it was business. Some things are unnecessary and pointless to have a discussion about. We don’t need to spend hours going over work orders and contracts we have with outside companies.”

  Sophia stands and places her purse over her shoulder. Her smile is clearly forced as she turns and sets her eyes upon mine. “Evan and I attended college together. We were good friends and even dated for a while, but we never had any strong feelings for one another that went beyond our friendship. Love wasn’t shared between us. That’s the backstory,” she stops to take her final sip of water. “He owns a painting company and I asked him to take a look at the front of the Scarlett to give us an estimate. The area around the window that was replaced is a mess and he’ll give us a discount because we’re friends. It’s business. And you and I, Cove, we don’t need to spend hours going over contracts we have with outside companies. Now if you’d excuse me, I’ll wait for everyone outside.”

  “Wait, I’m coming girlfriend.” Alyssa sets her napkin on the table and they walk out the same way they came in, arm-in-arm, full of fire and life. They’re badasses and I’m a dick.

  “You just got schooled,” Haverty laughs.

  “As we all know, don’t ever fuck with my wife. You’ll lose every time.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “What’s with the crowd tonight? This is the type of turnout we get on nights when there’s a game at Busch Stadium,” Haverty exclaims as he turns onto the side street and parks behind the bar.

  There’s a line of what looks to be at least fifty people waiting outside our door, and without a game or other event happening in the city, a long line before opening means the college students are starting to arrive for the fall semester. Plus, the nicer the weather, the bigger the crowd.

  Hollis, our front doorman, along with two of our bartenders and a few of the floor servers, are waiting in the lot. Haverty opens the door and I watch them pile inside to begin setting up. The lights need to be calibrated, music on, rooms checked and cleared of any remaining trash from the previous closing night; wine, beer, liquor at maximum capacity at the bar, and ice buckets filled. Haverty will open the front door in about five minutes, and the place will be a madhouse for the first half hour until every customer has a drink in hand. That means I only have a few minutes to talk to my wife.

  She’s been quiet since we left the restaurant, even though I’ve apologized numerous times on the way home. I study her face as she stares at the back door, in a fight with herself not to look me in the eye. She’ll get over her anger, but for now she wants to punish me for making a scene at dinner.

  “Soph.” I reach out and run my finger along her hand. “I’m sorry, Dove. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “You embarrassed both of us. What’s your excuse this time?” she asks. “I don’t want to hear that you were under a lot of stress, or had a million and one things going on that made you react in such a way. We were in the middle of a nice meal and you made me look like a fool. So go ahead, what’s your excuse? Is it because you haven’t been drinking? You used to say it was because of the alcohol.”

  I sigh and remove my hand from atop of hers. I’m about to try a different approach instead of groveling for forgiveness, or using my fucked up life as a way out. With a smile, I leave the Escalade and walk to the door of the bar.

  “Where the fuck are you going?” she springs from the back seat and runs toward me. “You didn’t trust me, Cove, and we’re married. Do you still think I’m going to cheat on you?”

  “You’re wrong, I do trust you, more than I trust myself.”

  “What the hell does that mean? Hey,” she grabs my arm. “Where are you going?”

  “To work. I have a business to run.”

  “Yeah, right! First and foremost, you have a marriage to take care of.”

  “Soph, you’re being a bitch again. I apologized, now you need to accept it and move on. I was a dick. We’ve both reacted this way in the past so don’t be so hypocritical. Yes I trust you, but no, I don’t trust men. That’s not going to change. Deep down, I know you and I will never stray outside of this relationship. Call me arrogant or self-centered, I don’t give a shit, but I know I’m right. We need one another in order to breathe. I’m sorry, okay? I love you to death, but right now you need to get your ass inside. Let’s go to work.”

  “What did you say to me?” she whispers.

  “I said, get your ass inside.”

  She clutche
s my forearm and takes a straight path, dragging me through the bar, past our workers, and up the stairs to my office, locking the door behind us. The chandeliers above the lounge area cast a soft light into the room and her body’s transformed into a silhouette. A dark faceless figure. She tucks her purse under my desk, its usual spot for the evening; then grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into an impassioned kiss.

  “My ass is about to get to work,” she says.

  The sound system buzzes and a second later Nina Simone’s voice soars swiftly and powerfully through the bar. That’s Haverty’s doing. He knows what’s happening up here.

  “You’re about to feel good, Babe.” She references the song and I can sense a smile on her face.

  “Soph,” I swallow hard, taking short erratic breaths. “I wanted to fuck you after we close tonight.”

  She walks around my body with her fingers trailing across my chest, down my arms, round my back, and over my abs only to stop an inch from my dick.

  “Shh. Don’t worry, I’m not going to let you cum,” she whispers.

  Any tease from my wife is a good tease. Oh fuck. She’s gripping it, control me, yesss. My eyes close as she unbuttons my shirt, and I moan when our flesh makes contact. Sing it to me, Nina. I tilt my head back and Sophia drops to her knees. Fuck yeah.

  “Cove!” Haverty’s voice calls up to the office.

  “Fuck no,” I whisper. “Hold on, Dove.” I walk over to the balcony railing and see a grin on his face as he eyes my open shirt.

  “Just wanted to let you know I’m about to unlock the front. You ready?”

  I nod and turn to Sophia so she can get to work. Yeah, he’s fucking with us. I’ll get him back though. Just wait, Jimmy.

  Now, back to my wife. Shit, she’s good at the flick, lick, swirl, and suck. My eyes close and my mouth drops open when she does that. I reach for the front zipper of her dress but she slaps my hand away from her chest.

  “No,” she says. “I’m almost finished.”

  “I’m not... more please,” I beg. “Let me at least touch your tits.”

  She stands and brushes her lips against mine. “I want you hard so all you’ll think about the rest of the night is fucking me after we close.”

  “I’m there,” I whisper, sliding my hand under her dress as she forces my dick inside my pants. With a zip, I’ve been caged, and I let out a groan in disappointment. “You know it’s claustrophobic down there; my poor cock,” I bite her earlobe and slip my finger past her underwear and inside her pussy. “It’s not fair I’ve got this bulge to hide from everyone, but no one can see that you’re wet. You’re really leaving me like this?”

  “Like what? Desiring to be with your wife?” she steps back. “You hungry for me?” she takes another step away. “You feel a passion in your pants?” she laughs, no longer pissed about dinner. “Is your dick on fire... or is it your heart?” She opens the door and steps out. “I love you, Cove.”

  She’s gone. And I know her well. She’ll head right to the restroom to fix her lipstick and then be out on the floor bossing the workers around.

  Damn, that was a good tease.

  But unfortunately I need to conceal... I look down and realize that’s not an option... no, it needs to heel like a good dog before I go downstairs. I send Haverty a text to bring me a cup of ice and then take a seat by the balcony railing to watch the lounge area and the front door. I’ll hang out here and wait.

  He must not be able to hear his phone over the crowd. I call his cell, but he doesn’t pick up. He’s busy talking to a few of the customers. Damn it.

  “Haverty!” I shout out. “Bring me some ice.”

  He seems to be ignoring me, but after he shakes hands with a guy and pats another on the back, he gives me the thumbs up. Thank God. In less than a minute he’s standing next to me with a glass of ice in hand and a big dopey grin.

  “What? She leave you hanging?”

  “I wish it were hanging.”

  He looks at my pants and laughs. “Wow, asshat. So you didn’t jerk it in the bathroom earlier?”

  “You gonna watch me or can I have a little privacy?”

  “I guess she got you back. Why don’t you jerk off now and be done with it?”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Why? You got problems with your dick? Yank it and come downstairs.”

  “Hav, it’s a game with her, just give me a few minutes, alright? I’ll be down in no time.”

  He walks away shaking his head and when I see him reappear by the bar he whispers something to Sophia who laughs and pinches his cheek. Shit like this would never happen if the three of us didn’t love one another so damn much.

  I unzip and take a cube from the cup, slide it over my dick, and do my best to keep an eye out for Marcus.

  The ice should help. Sometimes, after Sophia and I fuck, she finishes our play by running an ice cube along my cock. It’s calming, and she looks sexy as hell when she does it. Can hell be sexy? After all, it’s hot, fiery, red... yeah, hell must be sexy... there... think about hell and that will help too. With closed eyes I let the ice melt along my dick as it slowly shrinks to a somewhat normal size. Good enough to get my ass downstairs and show my face at the bar. Something I need to do more often, but I tend to be too busy or too fucked up to ever actually accomplish it on a regular basis.

  Customers like to see and speak to the owner. It makes them feel appreciated. My mother and Sophia are great at socializing and have become the face for the business, while I usually lean against the back wall and try and look important.

  The ice is melted and my pants are zipped. I lean forward and examine the scene before leaving my post. Haverty’s next to the bar with his sleeves rolled and his arms crossed. The employees love him and call him James, or sometimes Teddy because they think of him as a big teddy bear. The women hover around and ‘accidentally’ brush into him now and again.

  The bartenders are busy, but still have time to put on a show by flipping bottles and glasses in the air, exaggerating their every move. I’ve told them not to do that shit. It makes them look like pussies, but they say they get better tips so I let it slide every so often. I guess if it’s okay that my wife and I fuck all the time during business hours, it’s okay for them to flip a bottle in the air.

  The women we hire wear short black skirts and low-cut black tanks in the summer, and one-piece black dresses in the winter. The required lipstick is a dark red, like our wine, and they’re supposed to work the room once an hour, handing out free samples of The Dark Scarlett house wine to every guest. Once people sample it they usually buy a bottle. Yeah, it’s that good, and in the end, it’s the reason people come to our place.

  We have two guys who work the door, Hollis being our main bouncer. He’s not the friendliest employee we have, but bouncers don’t need to be nice. As far as I’m concerned his job is to keep the asswipes out of my bar. There’re a lot of fake IDs showing up lately, not to mention people trying to get through the door who are clearly wasted. We don’t have to serve anyone who’s shitfaced and can barely stand. It’s bad for business when they cause a scene.

  And again, I’m being hypocritical, because no one at this bar causes a scene more than my wife and me.

  The chandeliers are on their lowest setting and the front window is tinted so the only light that enters the room comes from the front door. I text Hollis to pull the doorstop and keep it closed so the bar is in controlled darkness. The atmosphere for a lounge when people are drinking wine should be dim and relaxing, not ignited by the sun, and Hollis can check ID’s from inside tonight. Plus, I saw clouds rolling in from the West, and I bet we’ll have another round of rain before nightfall. Once the clouds block the strong sunshine, he can reopen the door.

  Speaking of bright lights... my wife is the spark of life at every table. She smiles and touches the seated customers on their shoulders as she talks. It’s all a show, we all know she’s not that friendly, but she sure can fake being a pri
ncess. And our guests haven’t a clue as to what’s really on her mind. She’s probably thinking, what an asinine tat on that guy. Doesn’t he know women won’t find a miniature Yoda staring back at them sexy? Is that supposed to be attractive? I’d rather see a giant vagina on your forearm than a wrinkled, white-haired troll.

  Yes, that’s exactly what she’s thinking as she smiles and travels around the room. In real life she’d be brutally honest with the guy about his ink, but at work she’s a photo negative of herself... a complete reversal in personality... except when speaking to our employees. She can be irritable around them, but most of the time it’s for good reason. She’s pointing her finger at Hollis and complaining about someone at this very minute. He nods and escorts a guy out. I look to Haverty who gives me the ‘ok’ sign with his fingers, so I know all is well. She usually does that when someone’s comments make her uncomfortable.

  I continue watching my wife work the room. Her ass swings and she tilts her head when she speaks, listening to people with a pleasant expression on her face. Polite and dignified. I bet she also has little pieces of candy in her purse, a conventionally feminine quality. And that isn’t a joke, but something I actually need right now if I’m going to talk to a lot of people downstairs. I want to make sure my breath’s mint fresh.

  Her purse still sits on the floor under my desk and sure enough, a pack of her usual Chowards Violet Chewing Gum is inside. Yup, feminine, not minty, but it will do.

  I lock my office door on the way downstairs and notice that my mother has arrived, along with a few more employees. My father should be here for the final four hours, sending my mother home around ten.

  The lounge area is now crammed with people and there’s not a table in sight that doesn’t have a second bottle of wine being consumed. That tells me it’s going to be another great season for our business; a constant flow of people drinking, socializing, and texting their friends to come out and join them. The Scarlett hasn’t been this packed since mating season was in full swing at the beginning of spring.

 

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