by L. A. Fiore
Beautifully Damaged
A Novel by L.A. Fiore
Copyright
L. A. Fiore Beautifully Damaged
© 2012, L. A. Fiore Self publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Dedication
To my children, go after your dreams and never give up.
To my husband, thank you.
To my sister, thanks for the extra set of eyes.
Part One
"No one who, like me, conjures up the most evil of those half-tamed demons that inhabit the human beast, and seeks to wrestle with them, can expect to come through the struggle unscathed." - Sigmund Freud
Chapter One
It really wasn't my scene: the dark, smoke-filled nightclub, the loud bassy music, the bodies -- shoulder to shoulder -- and the noise -- the eye-bulging, brain-numbing noise. The bar was sleek and black-topped and spanned the whole side of the place. It was littered with glasses that were filled with a variety of colored liquids. The people who were standing around the bar were some of the most beautiful people that I'd ever seen in real life. Yes, I was definitely way outside of my comfort zone.
Lena was meeting the boy she liked here and wanted me to tag along just in case. She was my best friend and had been since we were in middle school. It was a friendship that endured high school and separate colleges. I was very shy but also valued my friendship with her; my being in a place like this was proof of just how much this friendship meant to me.
We pushed our way through the crowds as my toes got stomped, my hair got pulled and I couldn't help but think that I could have been at home, sipping a glass of wine and reading Jane Eyre. We somehow managed to reach the bar when Lena grabbed my hand.
"Look, Em, there he is."
I followed Lena's gaze to the blond standing near the bar. He was tall, maybe six feet, and his hair was perfectly cut and even in his khakis and oxford shirt, you could tell his body was built like a runner with long, lean muscles. When his face turned in our direction I saw that his eyes were a hazel-green in a face that was classically handsome.
"What do you think?"
I looked up at Lena and realized that she had been studying me while I studied him.
"He's very handsome, Lena. What's his name?"
"Todd."
Todd started towards us. His eyes sparkled in greeting as a smile curved his lips.
"Hello, Lena. I'm so glad you made it." He stepped into Lena and pressed a kiss on her lips and I couldn't help the pang of envy I felt at their greeting but immediately my mind switched gears when Todd turned to me as Lena made the introductions.
"Todd, this is my best friend, Ember."
He reached for my hand to shake it. Handshakes were big with my dad and Todd's was one of those half-girlie shakes and his hands were too smooth and soft -- softer than mine. For my dad this would be a serious red flag but I pulled my thoughts from that when Todd smiled at me.
"Nice to meet you, Ember."
"...you, too, Todd."
A favorite song of Lena's came on as she grabbed Todd's hand. "Let's dance."
She pulled him to the dance floor looking back at me as she went. "Are you coming, Em?"
"No, you go."
"Okay." And just like that they disappeared into the crowd. A stool at the bar emptied as I sat down and flagged the bartender. He was in his thirties, big in the shoulders and arms, with a buzz cut but his eyes were friendly. He stopped just in front of me and placed down a napkin.
"What can I get you?"
"Cabernet, please."
"Sure thing."
I watched him pour the ruby-red wine into a glass before I pulled out a twenty and moved it across the bar to him just as he placed my glass in front of me.
"Keep the change." I said.
"Thanks, beautiful." He threw me a grin as he moved down the bar while I took a sip of my wine.
I turned in my stool and looked out at the sea of people. This place wasn't like the clubs we used to hang out in during our college years but it was still a place to see and be seen and though I tried to mingle like Lena, it was hard for me to strike up conversation since the mere thought of talking to a stranger had my stomach filling with butterflies and my palms going sweaty. It was for this reason that my dating life was very anemic. Although I had the ability to attract a man, keeping him interested when I fumbled over my shyness -- not so much.
I took another sip of my wine, caught a flash of Lena's auburn hair before she was pulled deeper into the crowd, and then a stir across the dance floor pulled my attention. There were at least six ladies dressed in the shortest, most revealing dresses that I'd ever seen. Every one of them was gorgeous but it was the man walking in their midst that had my complete attention. He was dressed in faded jeans, a black tank and boots. He was at least 6'4"; his black hair was short and spiky around a face of sheer beauty but it was the tattoo that covered his left arm that captivated me. From shoulder to wrist he was completely covered in ink. The design was indiscernible from my distance and never really having a feeling about tattoos one way or the other, I found it to be both beautiful and sexy as hell. Maybe I was moved in this case because of the arm; it was a spectacular arm with a wide shoulder, thickly muscled bicep and a powerful forearm.
He moved through the crowd and honestly people actually parted for him to pass -- like Moses and the Red Sea -- and then he was standing just to my right with his bevy of babes giggling and tossing their hair. I turned my eyes from the scene since the man clearly wasn't lacking for female attention. The women at the bar -- dates be damned -- strained their necks for a glimpse of him. I looked down at my jeans and black, sleeveless blouse as a grin curved my lips -- nothing sexy about that. My hair, my greatest feature, was long and thick but instead of blonde or red as most men preferred, it was brown, the same color as my eyes. I was definitely not in the same league as the beautiful people just down the bar.
A sudden shove at my back almost had me spilling my wine and when I turned to face my assailant, I knew immediately that he was drunk out of his mind.
"Hey, babe. Want to dance?"
Dance? This guy was barely standing up, swaying like a high rise in a strong wind, so it was rather ambitious of him to even consider walking to the dance floor let alone actually dancing. I didn't want to offend him but I sure as hell didn't want to dance with him either so I smiled sweetly and replied quite firmly.
"No, thanks."
He grabbed me and considering his drunken stupor, I was surprised at the accuracy of his movement.
"Come on, babe." His hands moved down my arms to my hips which had me pushing at him but he was strong and his hold was steadfast. My annoyance turned into fear.
"Let me go." My voice wasn't quite steady as I tried in vain to pull away from him.
"Let her go." I turned my head to the bartender who was getting ready to jump over the bar but he stopped when a shadow fell over us. It was tattoo-man looming over me and my would be assailant. The drunk looked over his shoulder, saw who was standing behind him, and immediately dropped his hands before taking a few steps backwards. "I meant no harm, man."
I pulled my eyes from the gorgeous, avenging angel who stood before me and looked into the terror-filled eyes of my unwanted suitor as my fear was rapidly replaced with anger.
"No harm?! I said no!"
His eyes flickered to me
and I saw the heat flash in them. I could see that he wasn't repentant at all and that just pissed me off. Before I knew my intention, I balled my hand into a fist and connected a solid hit to his jaw leaning into it with my body just like I was taught. At the sight of his head snapping back, I couldn't quite control my grin.
"Bitch!" he howled.
He planted his legs readying himself to go after me but faster than my eyes could see, a blur flashed before me and in what seemed like an instant, my attacker's eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body dropped to the floor. I looked over at tattoo-man, who was steadily watching me and though I knew the punch had come from him, you'd never know by the way he was casually standing there.
"Are you okay?"
His voice was so soft but such a deep baritone that I could hear him clearly over the noise of the place.
"Yes. Thanks for..." I gestured to the man currently lying unconscious on the floor as I held tattoo-man's stare. "...that."
"No, means no, right?"
I smiled before I replied, "Yes."
His finger ran down my arm before he reached for my hand and when he lifted it to his lips, his eyes stayed on mine.
"Trace Montgomery."
"Ember Walsh."
His eyes never left mine as he brushed his lips over my knuckles and honestly my hand burned from the contact and then he said, "It's nice to meet you, Ember."
Before I could even think of a reply he released my hand and disappeared into the mass of bodies. I didn't miss the nasty stares that his fan club threw at me but I couldn't focus on them since I was too busy trying to remember how to breathe.
My attacker was still out cold on the floor as two bouncers came to drag him away. I just watched them unsure if my eyes really saw what I think they had: the drunk bastard or the gorgeous, inked angel who saved me. A hand touched my arm and I turned and looked up into concerned, gray eyes. It was the bartender, who gently led me back to my seat as he hunched down to look me in the eyes.
"Are you okay?"
"I think so." I looked back at the then vacant floor and asked, "Did that all just happen?"
His chuckle immediately pulled my attention back to him as he answered softly.
"Yes." He reached across the bar for a glass before he pressed it into my hand.
"Drink this. It's water."
"Thank you. I'm Ember."
"Luke."
I took a sip and realized that I was really very thirsty so drank the whole thing in one long swallow before Luke took the glass from me and placed it on the bar.
"Ember, can I offer you some unsolicited bartender-advice?"
"Sure."
"Trace Montgomery -- I'd stay clear of him."
The inked angel -- stay clear of him? I doubted the man would even recognize me if he saw me again but I asked for clarification anyway. "I don't understand."
"He has a way with women. I see him night after night and they just flock to him. Thing is -- he doesn't do relationships; he's a love-them-and-leave-them kind of guy. Any night of the week he'll be here with someone different. It's just who he is."
I expected as much, what with the flock of hens all poking around him but I'd be lying if I said it didn't disappoint me. It didn't matter since I never expected to see him again after that night anyway.
"Thanks for the advice, Luke."
He studied me for a minute and seemed to like what he saw when he smiled and stood up.
"Can I get you anything else?"
"Another glass of water would be nice."
"You got it."
An hour later I was ready to leave. Having not seen Lena since we first arrived, I tried texting her but I got no answer. I said my goodbyes to Luke and left my spot to search for Lena and Todd in the crowd but the place was packed, which made my search pointless. I eventually made my way to the back near the restrooms and tried texting her again. While I stood there waiting for her reply, I noticed that I wasn't alone. It was a fairly dark corner and I had no desire to stick around to see what the two were doing.
I started to move away just as one shadow's head moved into the light and I saw that it was Trace. His back was to the dance floor and pressed between him and the wall was a woman. She was moving, pushing her hips back and forth, and it was only then that I noticed the hand of his inked arm was lost between their bodies. I couldn't pull my eyes from them because it was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen but sanity eventually returned and I started away from them. I didn't get far because, when I took one last glance at Trace, I found a pair of steely-blue eyes looking right at me. My feet just stopped as I stared back. He didn't stop his ministrations and based on the sounds that his friend was making, she was getting close but his eyes never left mine. I couldn't help but imagine that he was bringing me to climax and the thought had my body clenching hard with desire. It was the tingling of my body, the warming of my blood, and the sharp pang of want that pulled me from my lust-induced haze. With the return of reality came shame as I turned and fled at the exact moment Trace's friend found her release.
In the morning I woke and just lay there thinking about the previous night. I really didn't get the club scene and I was obviously in the minority considering how crowded Sapphire was. I thought about the drunk and how, if I had said yes to his charming invitation, he'd have learned a valuable lesson this morning regarding the negative correlation between drinking and perspective. And then, of course, there was the inked angel. Being pawed by a drunk idiot had been worth it to get an opportunity to meet that man. I thought that I'd probably never see him again but, damn, he really was something else.
I climbed from bed and made my way down the hall to the kitchen. Lena was sitting at the table having breakfast.
"Hi, Lena. Morning."
She looked over at me. "Morning."
I reached into the cabinet for my granola bars, my standard breakfast, when Lena offered, "I ate the last one."
"Oh, okay. Did you have fun last night?"
Lena leaned back in her chair as a smile curved her lips. "I did." And then her focus zeroed in on me.
"What did you think of Todd?"
I really hadn't had an opinion on Todd considering as soon as the introductions were made I didn't see him again for the rest of the night. In fact, I ended up coming home alone. True, I was running, well walking quickly, for the door after "the incident" but still I came with Lena. She could have at least told me that she was leaving. It was rude of her not to.
"He's very handsome and he seems quite taken with you but what happened to you last night?"
"Todd wanted to leave."
I was on my way to the refrigerator for my coffee beans when she said that. It wasn't just what she said but how she said it. Todd wanted to leave and the fact that she came with me meant nothing?
"You could have told me you were leaving."
When her eyes found mine she actually looked a bit annoyed before she said, "Oh, right. Sorry. I honestly forgot you were with us. You can't blame me, Em, since you act like a wallflower whenever we go out."
I just stood there looking at her as she blamed me for why she and her boyfriend left me. I couldn't lie, that annoyed me, but she was excited about her date so I let it pass. When she stood and started down the hall to her room, I said nothing and turned to make my coffee.
That night I had to work. I stood in the kitchen waiting for Chef to add the mango confit to the scallops as I marveled -- and not for the first time -- at how anyone could afford an eight-hundred-dollar dinner. It boggled my mind but then most things in Manhattan did having been raised the daughter of a Philly dock-worker.
Mom died when I was three and, having been so young, I didn't remember her but Dad was really good about keeping her alive in our thoughts. She was the love of his life and when she was taken so suddenly by a hit-and-run, he vowed he'd never remarry. It was a bit awkward -- especially during my adolescent years -- learning about my period, the birds and the bees, from my dad and
his dock-worker friends but they also taught me how to cook the basics, throw a punch, change a tire, overhaul an engine and play a mean game of poker. I wasn't a tomboy but I was introduced to and favored activities that were usually reserved for sons since my teachers were all men; I was okay with that. After graduating from University of Delaware, it was a hard decision to pick up and move stakes to New York City but I wanted to be a writer and the never-ending font of material that the city provided was just too tempting. I spoke to my dad nearly every day and we saw each other for every holiday so it wasn't too bad.
Chef pulled me from my thoughts when he called my name. "Ember...before it gets cold."
"Sorry, Chef."
He grinned before he moved onto the next dish.
I walked out into the elegantly appointed dining room with dark walnut paneling, crystal chandeliers, stone fireplaces and hardwood floors. The starched, white linens provided the backdrop for exquisite flower arrangements, sterling silver flatware, Royal Crown Derby dishes and Waterford crystal stemware. Having come from Fishtown, I hadn't known what any of these things were until I started working here and, despite the beauty of the place settings, I still favored my mix-matched Earthenware, stainless-steel utensils and vintage McDonald's Star Wars drinking glasses.
I liked working here since I was practically invisible; the less I spoke the happier my customers were so when it came to tips I raked it in -- my shyness actually being a bonus instead of a hindrance.
I stood in the back checking on my tables and couldn't help but wonder what the owner was like. I had never met him and he apparently never came into his places. I knew that this wasn't his only restaurant in town and not even his most exclusive, so how much money must he make a night that not a table was empty?
My eyes caught Trent, the bartender, as he grinned at me. He was a few years older than me and was a musician who tended bar to make ends meet. He was fun the few times we hung together.
I walked over to my next customers and almost tripped on my own two feet when I saw that they were Todd and Lena.
