From Cupid (Working Girl Book 1)

by CY Jones

  “What do I do now?” I question sadly.

  He’s quiet for so long, I didn’t think he was going to answer, but after awhile he sighs and says, “you move on. It’s going to be hard since I can tell you loved him, but in time you’ll be able to get through this, just like I will.”

  But what if I don’t want to? I don’t voice that thought. Instead, I let it bounce around in my head as I try not to think about Harrison with Amy. What am I going to do? Most of my stuff is at Harrison’s, things I need for work. Not to mention, I work for the man. Seeing him everyday would be torture. His beautiful face reminding me of what I’ve lost and what Amy stole from me. I seriously don’t know what her problem is. She’s had it out for me ever since I first started working for Harrison. The men on the crew told me she was talking mad shit about me, but I never confronted her. Now I know she probably did it because she wanted Harrison, and now she has him.

  Sitting up, Chaz suddenly says, “get up.” A determined look was planted on his face and I eyed him warily. Nothing good comes from that look.

  “Get up and then what?” I question.

  “We’re going out. We can’t just lay here, feeling sorry for ourselves. We need to prove to ourselves that we can go on without them.”

  “Easy for you to say, your ex boo is hundreds of miles away. Mine is right in my face every fucking day.”

  “More reason why you need to get up. I’m not going to let you fall into depression like you did with Justin. You’re a beautiful person inside and out, honey bunny, and yeah, life has dealt you a shitty hand in the love department, but you’re strong and you will get through this. We both will.”

  “Okay, you’re right,” I grumble and he bops me on the nose. “So where are we going?” I ask, curious.

  “It’s karaoke night at a club a friend of mine owns,” he answers as he stands and stretches. I take the time to admire his muscles and the happy trail of blonde hair leading to his forbidden fruit. When he catches me ogling, he winks and I look away, embarrassed. It’s not like I’m interested in him, but I have eyes, damn it.

  I ponder his answer and then deflate quickly. “I don’t have anything to wear and no way am I going back to Harrison’s and risk him seeing me.”

  “I got you, honey bunny. Go take a shower and I’ll set something out for you.”

  On his insistence, I use the shower in the master. The room was a wet dream decorated to perfection. No expense was spared. I don’t know how I didn’t know he was rich before. Not that it matters to me. I just thought he was a cool ass stylist/bestie. I guess I still have a lot to learn about Chaz. The hot water hits me and I let it pour over my body, the heat working through my muscles. All the while, I’m lost in my head. How could I be so stupid? Fool me once, shame on you, but twice, even though it’s a different guy, I’m such a fool. Did I want it to work out with Harrison so bad that I ignored all the signs? Did I make up the all consuming love I was feeling, just to get over Justin? Or am I cursed to never be lucky in love? Those are the questions I really wanted answers to.

  By the time I get out of the water, I’m a mess again. Wrapped in a fluffy towel from his bathroom, Chaz takes one look at me and pulls me into a tight hug. “What’s wrong with me?” I ask against his neck.

  Pulling back and holding me shoulders length away, he looks me dead in the eyes with the most intense look I have ever seen on his face and says, “nothing. This was their loss, honey bunny, not yours.” He wipes away the lone tear leaving a trail down my cheek and kisses me softly. Even though it was on the lips, there was nothing sexual about it. No heat whatsoever passes between us. It was a kiss of comfort and I grasped onto it as I tried to thread together my wounded heart.

  “Now, let's get you dressed so I can do your hair.” He hands me a very short and very tight Calvin Klein sleeveless dress. It was white with simple lines and fit me like a glove. When he pulls out a sparkling pair of Louboutins, I nearly drool.

  To satisfy my curiosity, I ask, “you just keep designer women’s clothes and drool worthy heels on hand?”

  “They’re mine,” he says, surprising me. “Sometimes Michael likes me to dress up, and when I’m in the mood, I oblige him,” he shrugs. “I haven’t had a chance to wear these yet, so enjoy. They’re yours.”

  “Wait! What? You’re giving these to me?”

  “Yes,” he answers simply and I shake my head dumbfounded. Rich people.

  “Now, hurry up and get your cute butt dressed.”

  An hour later, we’re heading to the club in his expensive car. The top is down and the wind tosses my wavy hair around. It feels good to be out actually. Inside I was still hurting, but at least for a little while, I could push Harrison to the back of my mind and pretend everything is all good.

  The club we go to is called River Blue and it was packed. After Chaz parks, he walks straight up front, passing the long line of people waiting at the door. The bodyguard up front takes one look at Chaz and unclips the velvet rope, letting us through with no problem. We don’t show our ID or even pay a cover charge.

  Walking through the doors, my eyes widen at the sight before me. The area was a spacious, renovated warehouse unlike anything I have seen before. Metal cages with withering dancing bodies hung from the ceiling, the floors were a glossy black with glitter specks embedded within, the bar was sexy, all black with sleek lines. Neon lights cast an eerie glow around the room and there was a sleek black stage lit with tiny fae lights in the center of the room. The seating was also elegant and modern. Bright red leather lounges here and there within the club as well as the stools around the bar. This place was really nice and I wondered why I had never heard of it before.

  “Chaz,” a boisterous voice calls, breaking me out my stupor.

  Chaz and I both turn our heads to a gorgeous man wearing an expensive Armani suit walking towards us. When he gets closer, I want to look away, his bright hazel eyes reminding me of Harrison’s, but I pull myself together enough to smile politely when he asks, “who is this beauty?”

  “Off limits,” Chaz answers for me, which does nothing to deter the man’s Colgate smile.

  “Well off limits, I’m Daniel. Nice to meet you,” he says, holding his hand out. When I give him mine, he brings it to his lips and kisses it tenderly.

  “Don’t be cheeky,” Chaz growls. “This is my honey bunny, Paige.”

  “I didn’t know you were playing for the other team Chaz. About time you come to your senses,” Daniel drawls.

  “As if, honey bunny is a close friend of mine and as her bestie, it’s within my right to protect her from you.”

  “You wound me,” Daniel says, holding his hand to his heart dramatically. “This beautiful flower will surely be the one to break my heart.”

  Rolling his eyes Chaz says, “don’t listen to him. Daniel is a total manwhore. This is his club, by the way,” Chaz waves his hand.

  “So, what brings you two to my humble abode?” Daniel asks.

  “Karaoke night,” Chaz answers.

  “To listen to or participate?” Daniel asks with a funny look on his face.

  “What’s that look about?” I ask curious before Chaz can answer.

  “This is no random, drunk off your ass karaoke, flower. The crowd here is not to be fucked with. Most come here to be discovered. I can’t tell you how many record deals started in this place and they’re not afraid to let you know you suck if you don’t have what it takes to be up here.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Chaz replies and it’s my turn to look at him like he’s crazy. Has he lost his ever loving mind? I’m not trying to be booed off like Showtime at the Apollo.

  Shaking his head, Daniel mutters,“cocky bastard. I’ll make sure happy hour starts when you two go up. Maybe if they’re drunk enough, they won’t notice how bad you sound.” Looking around, Daniel asks, “where’s Michael? Surely he can talk some sense into you.” Chaz’s face immediately morphs from his trademark carefree calm to an all consuming hurt mixed wit
h anger within seconds and Daniel takes a step back.

  Ignoring him, Chaz leads me to the bar and orders us both shots. I don't question it, I just down mine as he orders another. He’s trying to drink his pain away, I can tell. It’s how he’s choosing to cope with his heartbreak. He did so well pretending everything was okay until Daniel mentioned Michael. We’re three shots in when a bottle of Dom Perignon in a bucket of ice and two champagne glasses is set before us.

  “Compliments of Mr. Daniel,” the server says before moving on.

  Shrugging, Chaz pours us both a glass and chugs his down. I start to sip mine, but it was just too good and I was drowning my grief as well. Already, I could feel the effects as all of the liquor we consumed was starting to work its magic. A nice buzz hummed through my body and I had the biggest kool aid smile planted on my face.

  “What are you so happy about?” Chaz asks and I bust out in a fit of giggles. I don’t know why but his question seemed so funny.

  “Oh God, you’re a lightweight,” he says dramatically, which of course sends me in another giggle fit.

  “And you’re hot,” I counter. “Too hot to be gay. God, it’s always the hot ones. Maybe Justin and Harrison are gay? Maybe that's why they didn’t want me? I should totally hook them up.” Thinking this is the most brilliant plan in the world, I pull out my phone, ready to set them up when Chaz grabs it, taking it from me and sliding it in his pocket. I pout and he just laughs, sliding me another glass full of champagne. Forgetting what I’m upset about, I guzzle the expensive drink down as I people watched.

  I don’t know how much time goes by, but I was really starting to feel myself now and by the glazed look in Chaz’s eyes he was starting to feel it too. The music was on point and when Hot Girl Bummer starts to play I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer, kicking my legs on my stool like I have ants in my pants.

  “Come on,” I squeal, jumping from my seat as I grab Chaz’s hand leading him out to the dance floor. Mouthing the words, we both move our body in sync with one another in our liquid high. As I danced, I couldn’t remember the last time I moved like this, but with the added liquor courage, I let the beat control my body, throwing my arms up as I moved to the rhythm. Song after song we danced our problems away. Chaz was actually really good and with the way he moved against me, he could have a stripper asking for tips. Figures he’d be hot and a great dancer.

  When we stop, I’m a sweaty mess and Chaz takes me back to the bar, ordering us both bottled waters. I guzzle it like I did the Dom, finishing the bottle off in seconds. Once gone, Chaz orders us another bottle of Dom, this one a fruitier kind and I practically inhale it.

  “Fuck, this is delicious,” I say, licking my lips.

  “Hmm,” he says with glazed eyes, “do that again and I might consider changing sides,” he teases. Yeah, he’s feeling it right now. I can’t help but laugh at his comment. Even with my muddled brain, I still see Chaz as nothing but a friend.

  The lights in the club dims and a pixie like girl comes out onto the stage with a guitar gripped tightly in her hand. She drums the strings and her voice belts out a country sound. She’s okay, but nothing like the talent Daniel claimed the crowd was looking for. I’m not surprised when one minute through the song, boos erupt and she’s chased off the stage when an empty can of beer hits her on the side of her head. Alcohol me found it hilarious when I should be making a break for Chaz’s Lambo. Five more acts come out, neither making it to the end. Now the crowd was riled up and looking for blood. This isn’t American Idol folks, but hell, tell them that. When our names are finally called, I walk to the stage confidently, shouting “let's do this.”

  “What are we singing?” I ask Chaz when he passes me the mic.

  “Exactly what is your singing level?” He inquires.

  “You’re just asking me that now?” I shout. Apparently the mic is on because all eyes turn to us, but I’m too drunk to be embarrassed, so I fake an angry face which, of course, causes me to laugh because right now I’m crazy drunk and out of my mind to be up here.

  “I used to sing in the church choir, does that count?”

  Thinking about it for a second, he says, “okay, church girl. Ellie Goulding’s Hanging On it is.”

  “Sure,” I hiccup, as I shake my head like a bobble head, smiling like a lunatic.

  When the song comes on I get serious, especially after starting the song a second late. Closing my eyes, I start to sing and let the beat take over my words. I was waiting for the crowd to boo and throw things like they did the others. My level of singing experience consists of the church and there you could be bad and no one will tell you. They will smile in your face, telling you you’re doing a great job while shoving you in the background. It isn’t until we get to the rap part and Chaz takes over when I open my eyes and see the crowd was completely enamored. When the music stops, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I’m embarrassed and my face heats. Were we really that bad? Right when I think we’re about to be playing dodgeball with cans and bottles, the crowd jumps into applause, clapping their hands so loudly it made my ears ring. Shouts of encore are called and I look to Chaz for help.

  “You heard the people,” he says, smiling, “let’s give them what they want.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to argue when he shouts over to the DJ to play Shontelle’s Impossible. I know why he chose this song. It’s one of heartbreak. This time he stands sturdy by my side and when I start to sing, I face him. I stay that way for most of the song as I belt the words out, pretending the crowd doesn’t exist. Chaz and I are the only ones here, he’s the only one who can understand this pain. Tears run down my cheeks as all my emotions and hurt bleed into the lyrics. I didn’t want people to just hear this song, I wanted them to feel it, feel my pain as I try to purge it from my body. Let them feel this all consuming agony of losing the love of my life, a man who I thought I’d never live without.

  This time the crowd immediately claps when the song is over. When we step off the stage, Daniel meets us with a huge smile on his face. “Well, well, well, flower, you are quite the surprise. Why didn’t you say you can sing like that?”

  “Must have been all the champagne,” I answer.

  “Excuse me,” a really tall man in a sharp dark suit says, interrupting us. “I’m a talent scout for Umbrella Records, I would love to set up a meeting with my boss.”

  I look at the man dumbstruck before turning to Chaz to help me out. “My friend here is in shock,” he answers for me. “Why don’t you leave your card and she’ll get back to you?” The man hands me his card and leaves me staring after him.

  “Close your mouth, flower, you’re tempting me.” At Daniel's words, I immediately snap my mouth shut. Usually I’d say something witty, but it’s too soon and I’m not ready for flirting yet.

  The rest of the night goes exactly like that. Record scouts would come up to me asking to buy me drinks and leave, handing me their cards to get in touch. I even had a YouTuber trying to convince me to go on his web cast. Random clubbers also walked up to me asking for selfies and my autograph like I was already a star. After a while, everything was starting to take its toll and Chaz pulled me away, leading me out to his car. He’s had plenty of time to sober up and he drives us back to his place. As soon as I step inside his expensive downtown apartment, I toe off my heels and belly flop on his bed.

  Joining me, he jokes, “this has to be the first time I ever brought a woman home from the club.”

  “How does it feel?” I ask into the bed, my voice muffled.

  “Weird,” he admits. “Want to take a shower now or wait until the morning?”

  “I’m too fucking tired to move,” I reply, shifting onto my back. My dress rides up my leg, showing some skin and Chaz tosses me one of his t-shirts.

  “God, you get me,” I tell him, smiling. Sitting up, I reach around to unzip my dress and he helps me after I fail on the third attempt. With the offending dress unzipped, I pull it from my bod
y, forgetting he’s standing there. When our eyes meet, he blushes and skirts his eyes before I quickly throw his shirt on, covering myself up.

  “Tonight is a lot of first it seems,” he mutters. When I look down, I’m relieved to see nothing is going on in his groin area. He’s not even at half mast.

  “You’re really not attracted to women?” I ask, curious.

  “Don’t get me wrong, honey bunny, like the next man, I appreciate a nice body and your body is smoking, it just doesn’t do it for me. Now, grow something here,” he says, moving his hand between my thighs, “and I might look past the tits and fuck you. By the way, you have a nice rack, ever thought of being a Victoria Secret model?”

  Laughing, I slap his hand away. “Ha, ha smart ass. I’m glad we got that out the way,” I tell him.

  Stripping down to his tight briefs, he joins me in the bed and holds his arm out for me to snuggle in close to his chest. With how tired I was, I thought I’d fall asleep immediately, but my mind didn’t want to shut off. Now with the distraction of the club over with, all I can do is think about Harrison.

  “What are you thinking about so hard?” Chaz asks. His voice is rough, different from his usual peppy self. Maybe he’s lost in his thoughts too.

  “Promise me you won’t let me be alone. If I can’t find anyone, don’t let me become an old bitter lady with like ten cats named Fee Fee.”

  Chuckling, he replies, “I thought you hated cats.”

  “Who knows, I might grow a taste for them,” I answer. “Loneliness makes you do some crazy shit.”

  “I promise. In fact, if we both don’t find anyone by the time we’re thirty five, I’ll marry you.” He sounds serious and I turn my head to look at him clearly.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” I question.

  “As a heart attack. I’d rather have someone I can learn to love that way instead of no one at all.”

  “You have a deal,” I tell him, holding my pinky out and he links his in mine, sealing the deal.

  “Now go to sleep,” he orders and I close my eyes. I feel him kiss my forehead before settling in. Seconds later, I’m adrift with Harrison and drunken pinky promises made with my best friend on my mind.