Angelic Attraction

Home > Other > Angelic Attraction > Page 2
Angelic Attraction Page 2

by Nicole French


  “H—hi Brad” Jody replied. ‘Oh my God—she knows him!’ I don’t know why that surprized me so much. Jody knows everyone—she’s one of LA’s socialites.

  “Hello Jody” he replies tersely. “Keeping well?”

  Jody squirms in her seat and gives him a polite but uncomfortable smile.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend Jody?” he enquires masterfully fixing his gaze on me while addressing her. There’s a sexual tension I’ve never experienced before and I feel myself tightening alongside the adrenaline rush. Jody squirms again and clears her throat slightly.

  “Oh...er....yes. This is my flat mate; Angel Nichols” she stammers a reply, keeping it as brief as possible.

  “Pleased to meet you Angel” he says stretching out a well manicured strong but soft hand. I reciprocate his handshake and electricity passes between us, making me tremble.

  “Are you enjoying your lunch?” he cocks a cheeky smile at me still holding my gaze.

  “Oh...er....yes thanks” Not a very unique reply but considering I manage to reply at all I’m grateful.

  “How come I’ve not seen you around before? Are you new in town?” he says with a calm smoothness that tells me it’s a leading question and that he wants to find out more.

  “Oh a couple of years now. I’m a designer at Fritz House” I manage to squeak and his eyes flash as if I’ve startled him or said something shocking. We hold each other’s gaze for what feels like the longest time before he eventually breaks the spell.

  “Anyway ladies, please excuse me, I have to be somewhere by 1.30pm. Maybe we’ll meet again soon.” It’s more of a statement than a question and he bids a quick farewell to Jody and passes me a business card from his wallet before walking away.

  “Fucking hell he’s gorgeous” I say to Jody through gritted teeth not moving my facial muscles at all—like a ventriloquist. Jody pretends to look disinterested but shows that she’s not at all comfortable. I should pick up on her tension but I’m so overwhelmed by the encounter with this Adonis of a man that I totally ignore it as I take a sip of my orange juice that the waiter has brought over.

  “Hmm I guess” Jody replies casually.

  “You guess? What the....Is he an ex or something? You froze up like a statue when he came over” I decide to come straight out and ask her, acknowledging her awkwardness.

  “No. No....nothing like that” she replies emphatically. “I—I just kind of know him....err...through a mutual friend. He used to go out with a friend of mine that’s all”

  I gaze down at the business card—Bradley Singer, CEO, Ventavox Finance Inc. CEO...hmm, I ponder as I look over into the direction of the road to see a black Aston Martin cruise by slowly with Brad driving. I startle and I’m sure it is obvious too because he gives me the biggest smile before stepping on the gas and boosting the car away down the road. That’s it. I knew he seemed vaguely familiar. Ventavox Finance has offices across from Fritz House. I must have passed him on the way to work at some point; I remember the car. That must be why he looked so shocked when I mentioned working at Fritz House.

  “I take it you and him aren’t good buddies then?” deciding that I really want to know how she cannot be more warm towards him. “Did he treat your friend badly? Is he violent or a womanizer or something equally vile?”

  “No, nothing like that Angel. He’s quite a gentleman actually and treated her like gold. We just...we just didn’t...err...click, that’s all”

  “What do you mean.....’didn’t click’?”

  “Hmm he’s very good looking but he knows it too. My friend fell for him big time and he was very intense. But she reached the point where she felt like he owned her; she couldn’t do anything without his involvement and it really pissed her off. He’s a man that gets what he wants that’s for sure”

  “So how come you don’t get on with him?” I continue to dig.

  “I locked horns with him. Long story short—you can’t win with Brad. If he wants something, he’ll find a way and he can be fucking ruthless.” I can’t help thinking that I wouldn’t mind being wanted by a man like that.

  “Well I certainly wouldn’t mind getting intense with him” I snort as I deliver my smutty double entendre.

  “Something tells me you’ll get your chance Angel. He usually gets what he wants and it’s as plain as the nose on your face that he wants you.” I blush as I recall the electricity I felt from just shaking his hand and tighten as I imagine what effect he would have on the rest of my body. The thought that a man like that would be interested in me fills me with dread and excitement all at the same time. Before I can continue my interrogation Jody’s phone lets out a ping to alert her she has a message. She picks it up and reads it then switches her phone off and begins to eat the grilled chicken salad that’s just arrived.

  “Aren’t you going to text back?” I ask. I’ve never seen her ignore a text message before—she’s always onto it straight away.

  “It’s nothing” she replies sharply, clearly wanting me to leave the subject and move on.

  Better take the hint, I don’t want to spoil our afternoon out and I can be a bit on the nosy side which I’m told can get irritating. I decide to change the conversation to lift the atmosphere back to what it had been before I got hit by a thunderbolt called Brad.

  “So, what shall I wear tonight then? One of my own designs or shall I splash out and see if I pick up something from Rodeo Drive?”

  “Wear that black, strappy, shimmery number—you look seriously fuckable in that” she says with a saucy giggle. The old Jody’s back. I knew that changing the subject onto tonight would break the ice.

  “Do you think it’s wise for me to look ‘fuckable’ in La Boheme?” I reply with slight apprehension. Jody laughs. ‘I have to be careful of my alcohol intake tonight’ I thought. Jody’s very sexually liberated and whilst I’ve been falling into the arms of men a lot these past few months, I’ve never actually gone all the way to having sex with any of them. Despite my bravado I’m quite reserved when it comes down to it. I guess coming from strict parents and a brother that used to watch me like a hawk whenever boys were around isn’t something you can shake off that easily.

  In fact, the truth of it is that I’m very sexually inexperienced. Before Adam, there was nothing more than kissing and a bit of heavy petting. Wade and I never slept together as he always said that he wanted the first time to be on our wedding night. I’d certainly never had an orgasm—at least, I don’t think I have. Maybe that’s why he left me. Maybe Miss Frump is good in bed. The thought of them fucking and him in ecstasy with her makes me shudder and I can feel the hurt from Adam rise up inside me again. For a few minutes Brad had created a welcomed distraction—I’d actually gone all of half an hour without thinking about Adam or Wade.

  Chapter Two

  “Ta-dah” I leap out of my bedroom and twirl down the hallway of our apartment.

  “Stunning—absolutely stunning Angel. If you don’t get laid tonight then I’ll fuck you myself”. She had such a way with words sometimes; she could easily turn a funeral into a carnival with her sharp one-liners. Jody was never one to turn down the flesh and she had been known to partake of the odd ménage a trois when her evenings in the art circles had taken a wilder turn. She had stated many a time that she’d be happy to pop my girl-on-girl cherry if I ever decide to take a walk on the wild side as she called it. I have always refused and laughed it off but if I’m totally honest there’s a part of me that would love to be adventurous like her. There’s a little bit of Jody inside of me deep down but she’s tightly locked away. I did envy Jody’s liberation and the uninhibited way she experimented. It always left me wondering what I was missing out on and that I should really loosen up a bit. No more immature grappling’s in clubs but instead go back to being choosy again but take it all the way. The thought of having sex with another girl—especially my best friend—is strictly out of the equation though.

  I break the silence by
feigning a shocked look and we both erupt in a fit of laughter. Jody knew that scenario would never happen but all the same, she liked to test my reactions once in a while, even if it was only to see me get embarrassed. Apparently the way I smile and lower my head makes me look ‘virginal’. She says that it’s one of the sexiest mannerisms she has ever seen, even though I am totally unaware of it myself.

  Jody hands me a shot glass filled with neat Vodka. “Here, drink this; for the nerves.” I eagerly oblige without a grumble. I badly need to calm down. My stomach is churning and my hands are sweaty. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would see the mysterious Brad tonight. Jody could be a minx at times and I wouldn’t put it past her to have cooked up some kind of scheme. As the subject of Brad seems to raise her heckles I decide that it is best I didn’t ask.

  Throwing the contents of the shot glass back quickly; I down it in one gulp. The comforting burn flows smoothly down my throat and hits the butterflies with a bang; banishing most of them and instead replacing them with an inner contentment that disguises itself as well needed confidence. The effect was quick as I have been too nervous and excited to eat. Slamming the glasses down on the hallway table, we straighten our dresses, take a last minute check in the mirror above, grab our clutch bags and head for the door.

  I can feel the gentle warmth of the summer evening air stroking my body as we both leave the cab and head for the entrance to La Boheme. Two immaculately dressed doormen wearing tuxedos greet us with respectful smiles and nods, gesturing for us to go inside. I look around the extravagant room that greets us. A large gold fountain with the half goat-half human figure of Pan in the centre, set underneath an enormous gold and crystal chandelier with cherubs hanging playfully from its many arms. Under my feet; a luxurious, blood red, deep pile carpet. I feel like I am entering the stately home of an aristocrat, not an exclusive club frequented by the in-crowds of LA’s rich and famous art world. A waiter, also wearing a tuxedo and white gloves approaches us offering Champagne in flute glasses. Jody takes two and passes one to me without giving the waiter a second look and ushers me through the large dark carved oak doors into the heart of La Boheme.

  I look around in wonder. I have never been to anywhere with such a vast array of fashions, people, eccentricity and creativity before and it completely mesmerizes me. I can’t help feeling a little understated in my classic black cocktail dress. There is everything here with no limits. Cross dressers wearing exquisite latest designs fresh off the catwalk, through to women and men wearing leathers and bondage. Waitresses mingle with glasses of cocktails bare breasted like Burlesque dancers from a Parisian cabaret and wearing masks and large feather plumage head dresses so they could easily be seen. There are dark, deep seated alcoves where body movements were giving away what they were really doing—dark corners for dark deeds. In the middle of the alcoves was a dance-floor that was full of lively characters moving to the beat of the latest rhythms. Cages—each with a dancer inside, some dressed as naughty angels, some dressed as demons and some scantily clad in leathers; gyrating as if in their own private parties. It is a thrilling and erotic world and I feel overwhelmed. A strange and unfamiliar excitement envelopes me. The kind that takes hold when experiencing a pleasurable taboo. I scan the place eagerly as I always did anywhere I went, but this time instead of hoping for a glimpse of Adam I find I’m checking to see if the mysterious Brad is here. I’m sure Jody’s up to something she’s been texting someone furtively all day and looking uneasy.

  “Angel darling” a deep English accent bellows out from somewhere to the left of me. It’s Pierre, one of Jody’s closest friends and a highly respected contemporary artist. He won respect among the art world a few years ago for creating an image of a ballerina in Black Swan costume balancing on ten inch blades instead of ballet shoes, splattered in blood and holding a beating heart. Jody says that he’s the ‘most inspirational artist of the twenty first century’. Although his art is a little past my understanding, I get on well with Pierre and being around him the last six months has been a real energy boost.

  “You look absolutely divine darling” Pierre continues, giving me statutory kisses to both cheeks although never actually touching me. “Fabulous to see you out tonight darling. No more mourning for that bastard Adam – he wasn’t fit to lick your shoes. Mojito darling?” he asks as he turns to a bare breasted waitress to place his drinks order.

  “Thanks Pierre” I say with a laugh. Pierre never liked Adam and would refer to him as ‘rent boy’; behind his back of course. He could be very catty if he didn’t like someone and he usually formed his decision in the first five seconds of meeting—he never, ever changed his mind.

  “I just love your outfit Angel, is it one of your own designs?” Pierre purrs in his deep posh English accent. His real name is actually Peter but it’s more than your life’s worth to call him that; even Jody didn’t push that button.

  “Yes it is. To be honest, I feel a little understated after seeing some of the amazing outfits here” I reply feeling my inhibitions hitting me once more like a steam roller as the waitress returns and hands me my drink giving me a cold lingering stare that makes me shudder.

  “Darling, you have the face of an Angel to match your name; you don’t need to try too hard. I noticed you the second you walked in and believe me darling; I don’t notice ‘plain’” Pierre is such a tonic, ‘if only I could find a man like Pierre that was straight’ I think to myself as I gaze into Pierre’s beautifully made-up face.

  “Anyway darling, I must dash. Andre, a new artist is over there and I intend to see his etchings tonight before anyone else snaps him up.” Pierre states with a depraved and hungry look on his face which makes me laugh.

  “Okay Pierre, hope you get lucky”

  “Lucky? Pierre doesn’t get lucky my dear” he snorts while giving me a heartfelt and genuine embrace “enjoy your evening darling and for heaven’s sake, get yourself laid”. Nearly choking on my Mojito I am about to defend my abstinence, but Pierre has already turned and is half way across the room making for his intended target. ‘Is it really that obvious? Did everyone know the minutiae of my sex life—or lack of it?’ I decide to take another big gulp of my drink and try to get my mental balance back from the paranoia I am now feeling. Where has Jody gone? I suddenly realize I am on my own and Jody is nowhere to be seen. ‘Double shit. Stood on my own, no Jody and looking like I’ve got a sign saying virgin strapped to my forehead, how much worse can it get?’

  I need to dance. There is a certain safety on a dance floor. It keeps me away from dark corners and bad behavior—I’m not doing that anymore and that is final. Besides, I don’t think that the kind of people here would be satisfied with a drunken slobbering session and a fast escape. By the looks of what’s going on in those dark alcoves—they’d be expecting to take it further; and publically too. No—the dance floor’s good.

  I soon get into the rhythm. I love to dance and the music here is edgy with an ‘anything goes’ atmosphere which is a refreshing change to the feeling some clubs can have. There’s no bitchy looks from rival females guarding their men or having to be careful who you talk to in case it starts any trouble. It’s free and liberating. I’m now starting to see why Jody likes these kinds of places although it’s still a bit too risqué for me to be comfortable off the dance floor. I’ve never had a full blown one night stand before. Suddenly, Jody appears and joins me in dancing.

  “I might have known you’d be on here” she shouts over the loud music. “That guy I took back last night is here—it looks like he managed to get himself an invite after all. I wouldn’t mind taking him back for round two tonight—he was fucking brilliant last night. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yeah sure. Thanks for the warning—I’ll try not to be sick this time.” I reply with a smile as I’m starting to see the funny side. A vision of them in the throes of passion with me making sick noises in the background did have a kind of black humor to it.

  “Come and meet hi
m. He’s got some hunky friends with him—you might like one of them. Come on—please?” she says taking my hand and already pulling me off the dance floor before I have any chance to reply. I give in. It’s pointless trying to say no to Jody—she never gives in once she makes her mind up anyway. We walk off the dance floor hand-in-hand and walk up the wide dark oak carved stairs littered with people sat drinking, talking and groping onto the balcony area. A group of four men are stood drinking and chatting over by the bar and they all look around at us as we approach. Jody bounces up to one; a tall muscular guy who was quite good looking and covered in tattoos. She’s a sucker for guys with tattoos—it’s her weakness.

  “Mike; this is Angel my flat mate—Angel; this is Mike” she introduces me and he gives me a salacious smile.

  “Pleased to meet you Angel. I’ve heard a lot about you” he replies and I know straight away that he’s referring to last night’s vocals with the wash basin. I blush. I’m pretty sober tonight so the thought of this man hearing me throw up is embarrassing. I look around at his friends and wonder if he’s told them all.

  “This is Scott, Chris and Stephen” Jody gestures over to the other guys and I nod and smile to them all in general. I can see them all weighing me up discretely and giving each other positive looks in my favor. Then Chris steps forward and asks me what I’m drinking. He’s tall and muscular, not bad looking, quite trendy with no tattoos; that I can see anyway. He’s got rugged, almost heavy features that just don’t do it for me although I know that a lot of girls go for that look. I like the baby-faced guys with almost female features that are soft with muscular toned manly bodies.

  “Thanks, I’ll have a Mojito” I reply politely. I can handle Mojitos—they don’t go to my head quite the same as Vodka. Better to keep a clear head in this place I think. Chris turns to the bar to get me a drink and I notice that the same frosty waitress is serving him up here.

  “Let’s move away from the bar” Jody suggests “over there—it’s quiet and dark over there” ‘Oh no. Quiet and dark?’ my mind repeats. I’ve been trying to avoid the quiet, dark places in this place all night. The other two friends; Scott and Stephen cast each other a look and walk away—no doubt going to hunt elsewhere. I get an uneasy feel. She’s horny—I can tell from the way she’s all over Mike like a rash and fondling his butt all the time. Chris arrives back with the Mojito as we all begin to move on Jody’s suggestion. He looks at me with a gleam in his eye. He’s obviously more taken with me than I am with him. This is awkward. I’ve been acting wild for months now since the break up with Adam, but going a step further than a drunken kiss and fumble is terrifying the life out of me. I know this is Jody’s way of curing me of Adam. Get me laid and that chapter of my life will be closed once and for all. She’s right—but not here; and not with Chris.

 

‹ Prev