by Ava Wood
After styling her hair in loose curls and applying a liberal amount of makeup to complement her features, she scoured her closet in search of something different from her usual Friday night attire. She didn’t want to come off as stand-offish and bitchy, at least not to Landon. She wanted to be more open to him. She felt he deserved it.
There was nothing on her side of the closet that seemed appealing enough. It all just screamed, leave me the fuck alone. Agonizing over her next move, she turned hesitantly to the opposite side of the closet where Camey had stashed some of her older clothes for storage. Several of Camey’s old dresses hung there dejectedly. Talia thumbed through, scrutinizing each one. They were all so short and form fitting. This was not something Talia had ever grown accustomed to and she worried how she would fare in clothes tailored to Camey’s voluptuous breasts. She began comparing each dress for length and fit until she found one that seemed to be the longest and left a little more to the imagination. It was a deep burgundy braided halter dress that draped to the waist then clung to the hips, but didn’t offer much fabric past that point. Was she really going to do this? She was wearing something out of her norm for a guy who may or may not even be there. They didn’t have plans, but he did say he knew where to find her. She hoped beyond hope that this wasn’t just a waste of time.
She pulled the dress from the rack and tossed it on the bed, realizing she probably wouldn’t be able to bend down for shoes once it was on. She crawled around the closet floor searching for a matching pair and found silver peep-toe shoes with a modest cork wedge that looked just dressy enough to pull off the ensemble. She slipped on the shoes first, concerned with how much mobility she would have once the dress was on, then pulled the purple frock over her head. Self-consciously, she began pulling at the hem of the dress, asking herself if this was worth all the effort. She examined her reflection in the full-length mirror attached to her closet door. Her breasts would never fill out a dress like Camey’s did, but her butt was highly accentuated just below the open back that showed more skin than she was truly comfortable with.
Faltering in her miniscule heels, Talia made her way to the living room and it was then that she heard the sound of Sara’s horn from below. She prayed to God she didn’t break her ankle at the club. Her nerves getting the best of her; she began cursing herself for her choice of attire. She was not at all excited to hear what the girls had to say about her choice of dress. Contemplating returning to her room to grab something of her own, she heard the horn honk again and surrendered, turning for the door to head to the car idling below. She carefully measured each step as she descended to the judge and jury waiting for her. When she cautiously climbed into the car, whistling and catcalls ensued. “Seriously, quit.” Talia reluctantly smiled at their reaction.
“Holy shit, Talia. You look hot.” Camey eyed her from the adjoining backseat. “Is that my dress?”
Talia stared at the darkness out of the car window, focusing on a ray of light reflecting off of the back of her flower shop as she nodded.
“Well, it looks great on you. You should keep it.”
Talia turned to see Camey smiling sweetly at her. She chewed her lip as Sara pulled the car onto the street and headed downtown. “I don’t know if I’ll ever wear it again. It was a bold move on my part that I’m not sure I want to repeat.”
“Shut up. You look great and you should dress like this more often. You’ve got a killer body. I mean, I’d kill for that ass of yours,” Camey gushed, causing Talia to blush.
“Talia, you look beautiful. I’m so glad to see you this way again. I’ve missed this side of you,” Sara spoke from the driver’s seat, peeking at her briefly while maneuvering through traffic.
“I’ve never dressed like this before. It’s a lot to take in. I’m not even sure why I did it.”
“It doesn’t matter, mami. Don’t look back now. You look muy bonita!”
Talia breathed deeply, falling farther into her seat. What was she thinking? She began to panic when the car entered the streets of downtown. What made her ever think this was a good idea? She may have dressed for Landon, but almost every piece of her was on display for whatever guy, or girl for that matter, wanted to look at her in the club. She forced calming, even breaths when the car pulled up in front of Satin. The valet opened their doors and ushered the girls to the curb, sending a chill through Talia’s body. Whether it was from the cold air against her bare back or pure nerves, she was thankful when Lenny immediately opened the door, waving them in. “Nice,” she heard him say as she passed.
The club was loud and boisterous as usual as they were herded into the chaos. Reina made a beeline for the bar and Talia watched Camey and Sara head for the dance floor. Looking up at the balcony, Talia questioned her next move. She was uncertain of whether she should join her friends on the dance floor or grab a seat at a vacant table upstairs. Would Landon assume she was waiting for him when he arrived if she sat in the balcony alone, dressed as she was? She feared if she joined her friends among the other gyrating bodies, Landon might not be able to find her at all when he showed. If he showed. He had to show. Talia wrestled with her inner conflict, but decided to head upstairs in search of a vacant table. As she neared the upstairs landing, she noticed several men at surrounding tables staring directly at her. She rolled her eyes, regretting Camey’s burgundy dress. This had to be one of the worst ideas she’d had in months. A waitress approached and took Talia’s order, then left her with her thoughts. Sitting alone in silence, she tried to ignore the men gawking at her, focusing more on Camey and Sara dancing seductively below. Her inattentiveness seemed to be working at keeping men away. Her only distraction had been the return of the waitress with her martini. She had been sitting alone for well over thirty minutes, spinning the olive pick around in her glass, stuck completely in her own thoughts. With her eyes trained on her friends, she completely missed the approach of a well-dressed thirty-something.
“Hey, gorgeous, I’m Scott.”
Talia turned at the voice. She wasn’t exactly frowning at him, but she refused to smile. Disappointment overwhelmed her that Landon had yet to show. And here emerged this stranger in what appeared to be a tailored gunmetal-gray suit, standing close to six feet tall. He wasn’t hideous, but he didn’t hold a candle to Landon with his thin frame, Roman nose, and gelled hair. And his brown eyes didn’t sparkle like Landon’s. Damn it, why am I so invested in him? She brushed the man off, turning her attention back to her friends below.
Scott chuckled, probably due to nerves over her cold shoulder. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Not interested,” Talia spat.
“Would you be if I told you I own the place?” He plucked at his lapels and beamed.
His words rubbed Talia the wrong way. He was extremely cocky, definitely not an attractive quality to her. Not after what Mason put her through. Damn this man for reminding her of him, just when all thoughts had been focused on Landon and happiness. Suddenly Talia realized she was in over her head. “Could you tell me what time it is?” She’d left all of her belongings in the car and had no idea how late it had gotten.
“It’s almost ten.”
Talia realized that Landon probably wasn’t coming. He’d usually found her by now and that single thought dashed all hope of seeing him again. Maybe she was just a game to him, just some silly conquest. Thank God she didn’t sleep with him.
She rose from the table, standing in front of Scott. “Excuse me.” Without an explanation, she left her drink behind, hearing Scott call after her, and moved as fast as she could in her heels to Sara and Camey. They welcomed her with open arms when she reached them and Camey quickly started her standard male inquisition.
“Who was the hottie?” She raised her eyebrows in curiosity.
“Eh.” Talia rolled her eyes and began dancing half-heartedly, quickly feeling the heat close in around her as men moved toward her. “He says he owns the place.”
“Holy shit, Talia. Is that Scott Renfro?�
�� Camey reeled. She clearly knew way too much about this club.
“I guess. He said his name was Scott.” Talia tried to wedge herself between Sara and Camey before she said, “I’m just not interested.”
“Mind if I have a crack at him?” Camey was already moving toward the stairs.
Sara reached out and grabbed Camey’s arm. “Seriously?” She eyed Camey, tilting her head toward Talia, the movement not subtle enough to be missed. After a peculiar acknowledgement, the girls began dancing again.
Men approached, trying to rub against Camey and Sara. Talia was thankful she was protected in between her friend and her sister. She was no longer up to being here, disappointed, not just in Landon for not showing, but in herself for believing a man again. This was all a big, stupid mistake. She stopped dancing and looked Sara in the eyes.
“Are you okay, Talia?”
Talia was terrible at wearing her emotions for the world to see. “I think I’m going to get a cab. I’m not feeling so great.”
“Really?” Sara questioned delicately.
“Yeah, really?” Camey wasn’t quite so gentle with her inquiry.
“I’m sorry. I just need to get some rest.” She couldn’t come up with a better excuse. She was too tired to care about making apologies. She just wanted to leave.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Sara watched her every move while Camey moved in behind her with her pouty face on full display.
“No, I’m fine. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” She kissed Sara on the cheek and left the club, miserable and alone. All the while she rebuked herself for falling, if only just the slightest bit, for Landon. She knew deep down this was going to happen and now that it had, she only had her irresponsible self to blame.
Entering the cold that besieged her very soul, Talia was thankful when a taxi quickly approached. She jumped in and headed home, hoping that in the morning she could finally get Landon off of her mind.
Chapter 4
Up All Night
Landon waited for fifteen minutes in his newest suit, a black-on-black ensemble, waiting for his latest job to show. He’d had a brief conversation with her on the phone that afternoon; her voice was a little deep and scratchy, but. she sounded nice enough, recently divorced and extremely lonely. Landon’s profile had intrigued her; she’d said; he was just her type. He really hoped he lived up to her expectations, but Talia had been swamping his mind all day. The Kamikaze he’d ordered was set before him and he’d tossed back half of the drink just to try and drown out the noise in his head while he waited for his date to arrive. Alcohol was never an answer for him, but somehow he wound up on his second glass before he felt a soft hand squeeze his shoulder.
“Hey, hot stuff. You looking for me?” A rough voice from too many years of smoking called in his ear. Her skin was aged beyond her forty years and on display in a low-cut cowl-neck sweater, showing plenty of cleavage, matched with a pair of equally low-cut jeans. A long beaded necklace landed right between her breasts, clearly intended to draw attention to that area.
Landon smiled, recognizing her voice from the phone. “Belinda?” He stood from his stool at the bar and kissed her cheek as he motioned for her to take a seat. “I went ahead and ordered you a drink. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” They took their seats, Belinda sipping at her drink before resuming. “Thanks for meeting me. Quincy said you have been really busy, so I’m glad you could squeeze me in.” Landon could sense the insecurity in her voice.
“It’s my pleasure.” He forced a smile, his mind still desperately on Talia. He didn’t feel he was being fair on this date, but he just couldn’t get her off of his mind. What was she going to think when he didn’t show at the club tonight? He assumed, after all the work he had to put in for a single date that she would be angry, very angry. He hoped he hadn’t ruined his chances completely.
“Quincy suggested we meet here. My ex-husband lives in my neighborhood and still watches my house. He’s trying to find something to hold against me so he can get full custody of our kids, but I wasn’t the one who looked for intimacy outside of our marriage.” Her rough voice softened as she spoke. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s a little early in the evening to dump that on you.”
“No, it’s fine.” Landon stroked Belinda’s knee like he’d done dozens of times before, but this time it felt wrong. He felt like he was betraying Talia, like he was cheating on her. That was ridiculous, though, since they had gone on one date and made no commitment. Trying to clear Talia from his mind, he threw himself into the date full force. “You look beautiful,” he lied, but he wanted to ease her nerves as well as his own.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks blushed when she accepted his compliment. He could tell she hadn’t heard it enough. He always felt every woman deserved to feel beautiful or their true self could never shine through.
Landon began stroking her back tenderly, trying to help her feel at ease in his presence. He feared that she could read his detachment and he knew that wouldn’t help move the evening along at all. “So you said you have kids?” He had to get her talking, get him thinking about anything other than Talia. Why couldn’t he have just fucked her and gotten it over with. Now she was a blister on his mind that he couldn’t get rid of.
“I have three.” He could tell this was a subject she was very comfortable with. “My Sylvia is my only girl. She’s twelve. Then I have my two boys, Jasper who’s nine and Trace who is six. They are the only thing that gets me through the day.”
Landon nodded as he watched her dig through her purse. She presented him with photos of her three children and he grinned at their young faces. Thoughts of one day having his own children bombarded him briefly when Belinda’s voice invaded his thoughts.
“So how long have you been an escort?”
Landon’s jaw fell. He wasn’t expecting the question and for the first time it bothered him. He no longer took pride in the term escort. He found some shame in that single word, hearing Brent and Lady Vanna stating No emotion over and over in his head. Clearing his throat, he answered, “I’ve been working for Quincy for about six years now.”
“Don’t you long for a relationship? Or do you have a girlfriend and still manage to keep this job?”
Landon couldn’t believe where this conversation was going. “I have no desire for a relationship. This job satisfies my needs just fine.” He tried to force conviction in his answer; to block out the voices that continued to creep in, replacing them with thoughts of Talia, then chastising himself for not being in the moment..
“I see.” Her head fell solemnly.
Landon lightly stroked her neck before speaking. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just the nature of the job.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and when her gaze lifted to his he asked, “Should we go upstairs?”
“Could I get one more drink first?” She downed the last of the glass of wine that Landon had ordered for her.
“Sure.” He smiled and waved the bartender over for another. When he returned with another glass of wine, Belinda quickly downed it and jumped up from her stool.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Landon watched curiously as he got up to follow her. She pulled a key card from her purse and led the way, grabbing Landon’s hand on the walk to the elevator. It was contact he was familiar with on these sorts of dates, but it felt all wrong. He was actually beginning to feel a twisting in his stomach and he nearly ran for the exit, but he talked himself out of it, trailing her all the way to the room. When she slipped the key card in the door and pushed it open, Landon took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of any distractions. This was his job. He could do this. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done hundreds of times before. He took one more cleansing breath and stepped inside the room, easing the door shut behind him.
“I’m nervous.” Belinda’s second glass of wine had made her exceedingly honest. She dropped her purse on the table near the front door.
“Don’t be. Th
is is your date. We only have to do what you want to do.” Landon stayed near the door. He knew it looked like he was playing the role of the gentleman, but deep down he just couldn’t bring himself to get any closer to her, because she wasn’t Talia. She didn’t look the same, she didn’t sound the same, and with the faint smell of cigarettes lingering on her clothes she definitely didn’t smell the same.
“Oh, I want this.” Belinda began undoing the buttons of her pants and Landon’s heart sank, realizing his heart just wasn’t in this anymore.
He stepped closer to her, grasping her hands in his and kissing her neck, all the while thinking of Talia. He decided that trying to push her out of his mind wasn’t helping him, so maybe if he imagined Belinda was Talia it would make the next few hours a little more bearable.
He imagined Talia’s soft, supple skin beneath his lips. He imagined her amazing curves hidden beneath the clothes that he slowly moved his hands over. He even tried to imagine her legs, long and sensual underneath the low-rise jeans Belinda wore. As hard as he tried, the pungent smell of cigarette smoke lingered, jarring his thoughts. He paused briefly, feeling Belinda tug his shirt from his pants. Wracked with guilt, he pushed past the smell and tried harder, employing Talia in his mind: her beautiful hazel eyes with their fiery amber fighting against her iris, her luscious lips, how her bottom lip looked so full while her top lip flattened when she really smiled, her auburn hair, the way it whipped in the wind and always looked just perfect in its windblown state.
He was picturing every inch of Talia as he ran his fingers through Belinda’s hair and began to kiss along her collarbone. The texture of her hair was all wrong, so he moved his hands to her waist, fumbling with the hem of her shirt, lifting it infinitesimally just to feel her skin beneath. When it didn’t have the same softness as he imagined Talia’s would have, he removed his hands and stepped away from Belinda. “I’m sorry.”