“Of course. I sense that this Sweetness woman has class if nothing else,” Paul agreed with another frown. “You know what? She didn’t even balk at the high price and paid for a week’s service. But, based on her background and bio, it doesn’t seem to me that money comes easy to her. And the loot that she paid to be with you,” the manager said with an arrogant smile and let out a low whistle. “….it was staggering. Did I overcharge her? Shit yeah, I did because she’s occupying the best toy in my business which is you. A lot of my clients are pissed because you’re off limits for the week. So, I had to compensate in some way.” He gave an ugly laugh. “All that I can say is that the bitch must be---”
“If I were you, I’d watch my mouth. Don’t insult her like that,” he said coldly, rising forward in the chair. He eyed the man point blank across the mahogany desk. “Make no mistake. While I am a whore, I’m not a pussy; and trust me when I say this---I can more than hold my own.” His smile was lethal and an open warning glimmered in his eyes. “Call her a bitch again, and you’ll find yourself picking your teeth off the floor.”
“Hey, man---take a deep breath and calm down,” Paul uttered before giving a soft whistle, and a knowing look gleamed in his eyes. “You shag this woman one night, and now you’re ready to defend her honor against the world. That’s highly interesting.” He reared back in the chair before studying him closely. “I wondered when it’d finally happen---or rather when she would happen.”
He kept his face impassive. “What do you mean?”
“Every man has a bleeding heart, no matter how fucked up and crazy he is or acts. There are those rare moments that make a man contemplate the possibility of having something real,” Paul muttered quietly, as if he were lost in his own private thoughts. Then, he shook his head to clear it. “But, then, poof, you realize that it’s nothing more than a mere fantasy.” He looked at him again. “Unfortunately, Reign, you’ll never escape this dark world that you’ve existed in for so long. So, don’t get any ideas in your head. Just like the rest of us here, you’re forever fucked.”
As the awful truth resounded in his troubled mind, he rose from the chair. “Just refund her money. Whatever the cut was, take it out of my account,” he ordered with a deep frown, stopping at the door, and then turned to face him again. “By the way, she’ll be back tonight. We’re having dinner, so I’m reserving Level C.”
“Just who’s running this joint anyway? Let me remind you just who is---I am bitch,” Paul scowled irritably, but then, he conceded with a nod. “If it were anyone else but you, Reign, I’d tell them to fuck off. But, we go way back. So, yes---Level C is yours. I don’t know what kind of fantasy you’re trying to live out with this woman, but have at it. Hell, it’s only a week, and it’ll be back to business as usual the next.” He lifted a brow. “As for your client’s refund, I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, don’t expect me to shoulder your loss of salary---”
“What part are you not hearing? I don’t care about the damn money,” he snapped, not bothering to hide his impatience. Then, he gave a curt nod before wrenching the door open to a flurry of noise and activity. He turned within the threshold. “One more thing: what’s her name?”
“Oh hell, no,” Rearing up fast in the seat, Paul shook his head in clear refusal. “Client confidentiality is a must here. There are a lot of things that I’ll do for you, bruh. But, telling you this chick’s real identity is big fucking no-no.”
He stared at the manager across the room.
Well, they’d see about that.
Somehow, he’d find out just who ‘Sweetness’ really was.
Rather than voicing those thoughts, he said coolly. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying. Thanks for your time, man. I’ll get out of your way. Later.”
“Wait---I almost forgot. Someone called and left you a message.” Paul reached forward to retrieve a ripped piece of paper from the desk. Then, after downing the coffee, he moved from behind the desk before crossing the room. After reaching him, he passed the torn piece of paper to him and ushered him outside to the hallway. He closed the door firmly behind them before locking it. Then, he addressed him again. “When they called, I couldn’t make out the name or anything. Not that I’m getting in your business or anything, but shit sounds pretty heavy. So, you might need to call. Anyways, the note and number are written down.”
A frown marked his face as he muttered a quick ‘thanks’.
Paul clapped his shoulder. “I’d love to hang around and chit-chat. But, I have things to take care of. I’ll catch you later.”
He gave a curt nod. “Later.”
The small slip of paper burned his hands as he watched the manager depart. Rather than leaving, he hovered by the closed door. A sick feeling of dread unfurled in his stomach as he read the hastily scribbled note: She’s sick and dying. Call me 555-8749.
Chapter 6
Wear something white. Nothing fancy…casual…
“Just great. The sexiest man on the planet asks me on a date, and I have absolutely nothing to wear,” she muttered irritably, hours later in the afternoon, and frowned at the heap of clothing on the bed. Nothing that she packed was white nor was it appealing in the slightest sense.
In fact, every piece of clothing was dark, morbid, and depressing, she decided, lifting the plain black skirt from the bed. She dropped it onto the bed and turned away from the sight of the disarrayed clothing in frustration. “How is it possible that I’m incompetent at everything?”
She plopped down in the chair alongside the bed before glancing at the clock. 2:14 pm. There was some leeway time until they met at the club again. But, she certainly wanted to be more presentable than she’d been last night.
But how?
Her distressed gaze met the nightmarish garb of non-fashionable clothing as she turned to face the bed again. “You certainly are not the answer.”
“But, maybe not all hope is gone,” she thought aloud, grabbing her purse from the armchair, and then plopped down on the bed. She confiscated the debit card from the plastic holder in her wallet. “Let’s see how much more I can obliterate you further, bank account.” She whisked the cell phone from the night table. Quickly, she keyed in the web address to her bank, and then typed in her username and password to log on.
A frown pierced her brows as she read the account information. “Balance: $617.00. Well, I do have a little something to work with. This situation isn’t completely hopeless yet.”
A half-hour later, dressed in the very black skirt that she’d heavily criticized earlier and a black short-sleeve blouse, she hovered nervously outside the boutique at the eastern end of the Westland Gallery Mall.
Certainly, she wasn’t accustomed to frequenting shops and boutiques like this. Through the glass pane, the mannequins posed in various positions and were suited in the expensive and stylish clothing. All along their plastic, fiber glass bodies, the outfits were layered in perfect precision from head to toe.
Still rooted to the spot, she stared through the window.
A small crowd mingled within, perhaps 10 or so women, she’d guessed. Of course, they weren’t as awkwardly dressed or a fashion failure like she was.
The attractive saleswoman, petite, blonde, and twenty-five years old or so, stood near the door and smiled courteously as she straightened the clothing on the rack. It was apparent that she noticed her discord.
Wear something white. Nothing fancy…casual…
At that moment, Reign’s handsome visage swarmed in her conscious thoughts, and it was enough to propel her forward.
The saleswoman greeted her as she stepped in. “Hello, welcome to Dazzles. May I help you with something?”
The purse straps bit into her palms as she gripped them hard. “I’m just looking,” she mumbled uncomfortably and swept past the woman fast. Like usual, the embarrassed heat spread across her face. “Thank you.”
“If you need anything, just let me know,” the saleswoman said generously to her r
etreating form. “I’ll be glad to help if you’re looking for something in particular.”
But, a half hour later, her stress level had worsened, she realized, sifting through the clothes on the rack at the rear of the store. As her hand fell on one item to the next, the hopeless feeling began to return. “What am I going to do?” she whispered helplessly, replacing the hanger on the rack. “I’m not built right for any these beautiful pieces.”
“Well, I beg to differ,” the saleswoman said, approaching her suddenly, and stopped beside her. As she did, she confiscated a teal-colored blouse from the hanger and held it up. “I think that this color will look smashing on you.”
“It’s beautiful, but that won’t do,” she said with a distressed shake of the head, and then an idea peaked. “Do you have the same blouse in white?”
The woman’s denial was swift. “Unfortunately no, I’m afraid,” the saleswoman added and then smiled before offering her hand. “I’m Madison. Forgive me for saying this, but I can’t help but notice that you’re a little stressed. Perhaps you can give me an idea of your interests. Is there something in particular that you’re looking for? Some special occasion?”
“I have a date,” she blurted out fast, and then her face colored hot. “I—I mean somewhat of one.”
Really, did a hookup between a male whore and a paid client classify as one?
She pushed the thought away fast.
“Ah, now I see,” Madison smiled gently. “You have this incredible date with an extremely hot guy, and you have no idea what to wear? Right?”
“Oh, goodness,” she groaned before sighing with embarrassment. “Am I that obvious? Yes, I have no idea what to wear, and I want to impress him.”
The woman’s brow shot up. “Give me a timeline. Is this date tonight?”
“Yes,” she nodded quickly, looking around the boutique. “Casual and white is what I’m looking for.”
“Hmmmm….” Madison mulled aloud, taking a step back to survey her figure. “Full figured, C-cup, voluptuous babe.” She snapped her fingers before grabbing her hand and then tugged her in the direction towards the other side of the store. “Come on girlfriend. We’ve got to get you to the right section. You hardly qualify for the staid and drab spot that you’re shopping from.” At her surprised look, the woman laughed. “Yes, I know, I’m insulting the fashion hardware here. But, while I’m an employee, I know what works and what doesn’t. My job is to make sure that our customers are well served and walk out of here looking their best.” When they reached the left side of the store, the saleswoman stopped beside the table rack. “I think that we’ll find what we’re looking for here.”
She glanced at the rack of jumpsuits and stylish wear that were built for ‘real babes’ not awkward, shy ‘wannabe hot women’ junkies like her. In a million years, she’d never look good in clothing like this. She gave the woman a dumbfounded look. “I thought that you were going to make me look my best. I could never wear anything like this. I’m not the type for it.”
“Nonsense, and never doubt your fashion fairy godmother. That happens to be me at the moment,” Madison offered good-naturedly, whipping a white shoulder-less blouse from the hanger and passed it to her. Frowning in thought, she took a step back. “Hold that against you, and let’s see if that works.”
Eyes wide and big, she did as the woman bade and held the shirt against her. Of course, already, she knew the look wasn’t her.
“Nah, that’s not it,” Madison murmured, taking it from her before slapping the hangers aside fast. For minutes, they did just that. The saleswoman taking clothes from the rack with her semi-modeling.
Several moments later, a smile split Madison’s features. She carefully removed the ivory-colored jumpsuit from the hanger before pushing it towards her. Then, grabbing her hand, she dragged her towards the dressing room. “This. Is. It. With your figure, honey, you will be to die for in this. Your man will absolutely lose his shit when he sees you in this. Go try it on and come out.”
“Alright,” she murmured, scurrying towards the dressing. But, as she clutched the jumpsuit, she already doubted the woman’s assertions.
After shutting the dressing room door, she dropped the purse to the bench before hanging the jumpsuit on the door’s wire hanger. Facing the mirror, she stripped down to her underwear. She removed the jumpsuit from the hanger and held it up against her half-nude form.
The ivory-colored jumpsuit was sophisticated and chic. Crepe sheath and halter-styled, its cowl neck extended midway while a short-jeweled insert crossed the breast area. A thin jeweled belt circled the waistline while the wide-legged bottoms added an extra dash of sophistication.
In short, the jumpsuit was absolutely stunning.
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” she said as dread filled her. “But, I’m sure that I’ll taint your beauty once I put you on my wide ass.”
Still, though, she slipped it on.
A moment later, she stared back at her reflection, shell-shocked.
“This can’t be me, and there’s no way that this jumpsuit looks good on me of all people,” she whispered softly, sliding an appreciative glance at her image in the mirror. She turned sideways to get a glimpse of her backside. Only a thin strip of fabric crossed along her mid-back. She released a deep sigh as she faced the dressing room door. “But, there’s nothing more telling than a second opinion.”
Taking a shaky breath, she opened the door.
As soon as she stepped out, Madison let out a satisfied squeal. “Yes!” the saleswoman exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. “You look absolutely stunning! Let me say it again. Your man is going to go crazy when he sees you in this!”
“Really? I look okay?” she asked subconsciously, wringing her hands together. “You’re not just saying that.”
“Did you not look in the mirror?” Madison teased and then snapped her fingers twice. “Girl, you look good. Now, own it.”
Own it?
She hadn’t even thought about the price!
“How much is it?” she asked, swallowing hard. “I’m working on a limited budget.”
“Hmmmm…” Madison frowned in thought. “It’s $575.00---I believe.”
Her mouth gaped open. “F---five seventy-five,” she stammered in disbelief. “I can’t afford that.”
“Well, luckily for you, we’re having a seventy-percent off sale,” Madison said fast, pushing her towards the dressing room again. Then, she studied her closely as she turned and faced her. “Is that a feasible price? Plus, we have customer coupons. Let me know what you decide to do.”
A second later, she was in the dressing area again. “Can I really afford you? Seventy-percent or not, you’ll put a dent in my meager budget,” she sighed in resignation and caressed the jumpsuit gently with her hand. Then, she shook her head. “What am I doing? I promised myself that I wouldn’t worry about money or anything else while I was here.” She firmed her lips. “And that’s what I plan to do.”
Quickly reaching her decision, she marched from the dressing room. A moment later, she clutched the shopping bag before stepping out of the boutique completely satisfied.
Her light-hearted mood continued as she strolled along the mall. As she neared Glowing, the hair salon, she slowed her steps before sitting down on the bench across from it. Madison had mentioned that an upswept do or bun would complete her stylish look. After a quick mental contemplation, she left the bench before making her way inside the hair salon.
At a quarter to five, she was back at the hotel, complete with a bagged jumpsuit and upswept hairstyle. Carefully, she laid the shopping bag on the bed. A nervous anticipation was coursing through her now, though, she realized, sinking down on the bed. Still, it was a good feeling.
The cell phone shrilled.
She barely glanced at the caller ID as she answered. As soon as her father spoke on the other end, her stomach dropped. “Dad, how are you?”
“I’m fine sweetheart,” Pastor Jonas Grace m
uttered affectionately, and she imagined his wide smile while he did. “How is the workshop going?
“I-it’s going well,” she stammered the lie out fast, and the heat flooded her face at the guilt. “Better than I expected in fact.”
“You would think that they’d give you teachers a rest or so. But, it seems that they’re intent on making you work even through the holidays.” He sighed on the other end. “Teaching is your calling, and I know that you love it. In a sense, it’s a ministry where you serve others with good heart and honesty. I couldn’t be more proud of you and the dedication that you show to your job.”
Could her face get any hotter?
“Dad, stop. You’re making me out to be a martyred saint,” she replied, releasing a suppressed groan. “I’m anything but that. Trust me.”
Didn’t her sexual dalliances and escapades with Reign prove that?
“Come on, let me be a proud papa. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with being a martyred saint either.” His tone turned serious. “You’re a grown woman now. Unlike many, you haven’t succumbed to your fleshly needs. In this jaded world and times, it’s hard to resist that temptation. Give yourself a swift pat on the back for upholding the values that your mother and I instilled in you. Again, I’m proud of you, and I love you.”
The tears stung her eyes.
He couldn’t be more wrong.
In fact, over the course of the last hours, she’d sinned in the most sinful of ways. Even worse, she planned on doing the exact same thing tonight.
That truth did nothing to lessen the blow against her guilt complex. Rather than saying that, she said instead, “I love you, too, Dad.” She took a steadying breath. “Where’s Mama?”
“She’s out with Sister Sonya and the rest of the chattering lot that she refers to as ‘friends’,” the pastor laughed. “I swear, when they get together, they’re like a bunch of cackling hens. Anyway, I have the place to myself for a little while. It’ll give me time relax and work on my next sermon.” He hesitated before releasing a fast breath. “Richard Johansson has been asking about you. I hope that you don’t mind that I told him of your whereabouts. He even mentioned making a trip to Atlanta himself, and while there, he plans on seeing you.”
Reign on Me Page 8
