by V. T. Do
Even our looks were the exact opposite of one another. She had her thick blonde hair cut to her shoulders, olive skin to show for her Italian heritage, big and expressive brown eyes, a condescending smile that attracted men as much as it intimidated them, and was only two inches taller than me—a physical difference that somehow accentuated the world of experience between us.
She protected me like only my grandpa ever had. And when we were sixteen, I was given the chance to protect her from her family, and I took that chance. We were inseparable, our bond strengthened with years of tragedies no one could take away from us.
And it was why, when my grandpa died just months prior, he left Joey an inheritance big enough to put her through school and then some after she graduated. She was hesitant to accept something she deemed was mine, but I knew that money—money I didn’t need—would help her out.
It took some convincing from both my aunt and me before Joey accepted, and only under the condition that once she graduated from school, she would pay me back. I never intended to hold her to that, but I knew Joey would do it, no matter what.
Only fifteen minutes passed before the door opened again and Joey walked out. She smiled at me.
“How’d you do?”
“Just as well as you,” she responded.
I grinned, putting away my stuff. I held my hand out and she grabbed it, pulling me up. Hooking my arm around hers, I walked with her out of the building and into the frigid cold. It wasn’t snowing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it snowed tonight.
Joey zipped her jacket up higher and snuggled closer into her scarf. “So, now that we’ve gotten the test out of the way, I say we go out to celebrate.”
I shot her a look. “You’re always looking for an excuse to go out.”
“And you’re always looking for an excuse to stay in.”
“Should I remind you that we’re not even legally allowed to drink?”
“So?”
“Says the law student.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m minoring in legal studies. That does not make me a law student.”
“Yet.”
She shrugged. “Come on. What’s there to life without a few broken rules?”
“The knowledge that we’ll never go to jail. How about that?”
Joey shook her head and laughed. “Emery, I think we need this. You’ve been holed up in that big house of yours for months. I miss him too, you know. He was more of a parent to me than my own, even. But life moves on. And we need to move along with it.”
I looked away from her sharp gaze and out to the empty campus. We finished our test so early that hardly anyone was out. “Okay,” I finally conceded.
Joey was right. Life moved on, no matter how much I wished for it to go back to when my grandpa was still alive. She squeezed me tightly to her slender frame. “And I have you covered.” Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her bright orange wallet and opened it. I looked in, curious.
When she pulled out two IDs, I looked at her questioningly. She handed one to me. My face was on it. But the name and date of birth were different. I was Emily Wilson, twenty-one years old.
“Wow. This looks so real.”
“I know, right? I went to Alan last week and had him do them for us.”
“This must have caused you a fortune.” Alan was the neighborhood dealer from Joey’s old town. He was also into selling other things and “services” for a ridiculous amount of money. I had only met him once, when Joey took me with her to buy weed when we were in high school, and he had not left that huge of an impression on me.
With greasy black hair that hung to his shoulder, teen acne, a short stature, and a thin figure, he was unassuming in every sense of the word.
“It’s well worth it. He may scam people out of money with second-rate drugs, but he sure knows how to make fake IDs.”
“Still. What if we get caught?”
“You do realize we are going out on a Wednesday night, right? Hardly a night for hard partying. We’ll have a few drinks, enough to get buzzed, and head home before we show up to class tomorrow with crazy hangovers. It’ll be fun.”
“If you say so.”
“I know so.” She let out an excited squeal and pulled me tighter to her. “It’s going to be so fun!”
I laughed, happy to see her so enthusiastic.
Chapter Three: Detonation of a Bomb
Emery
We got ready at Joey’s apartment. Considering that she lived by herself, it was ideal. I couldn’t imagine what my aunt would say if she saw the outfits Joey picked out for us. They were not something I would find in my closet.
For herself, Joey picked a white strapless dress that showed off her curves. The three-inch heels she picked out were black, with thin black straps that crisscrossed at her ankles, and did wonders for her killer legs. Joey was hot, and she knew it.
For me, though what she picked out was pretty simple, it still felt less than conservative on my body. It was a classic little black dress, sleeveless, and buttoned all the way up to my neck. The portion that covered the top of my breasts, my collarbones, and my neck was made of see-through black lace. It looked pretty enough, and the black flats I pick out actually toned down the outfit.
I thought the neutral color makeup Joey did for me was perfect for the look I was going for. Something that would help me blend in with the other people at the bar, who I was sure, like Joey, were all dressed for attention.
Joey came up behind me, standing by my side to look into the full-length mirror.
“Dude, you look hot,” Joey said with a smile. “I swear you won’t regret going out. Besides, it’s time to spread your wings a little.”
I gave her a joking smile. “As long as it’s our wings and not our legs.”
Joey shot me a playful look. “Those too!”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head a little. “If we don’t end up in jail, I’ll call this night a success.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes. “What is with you and breaking the law?”
I shrugged. “I’m okay with breaking a few minor laws. I just don’t want it to end up in tomorrow’s paper.” And that was the truth. Being a Caldwell meant I was in the public eye more often than not. My aunt’s charity and my grandpa’s generosity meant we attracted a lot of attention. I was raised to be aware of that fact early on. And though I tried to stay out of the public eye, some things were out of my hands.
Joey nodded in understanding. “I promise, where we’re going, no one will recognize you.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here before it gets too late.”
“Okay.” I grabbed the hand she offered and let her lead us out of there, from the warmth of her apartment into the frigid New York winter.
***
The bar was located about half an hour away from Manhattan. Even though I’d lived in New York my entire life, the crowd and life that filled different parts of the city still surprised me, even now.
We took a cab there, since we both planned on drinking tonight, and if there was one person who handled alcohol worse than Joey, it was me. I paid for the cab, ignoring Joey’s protest, and we climbed out, freezing our butts off in the cold air.
I heard the cabdriver pull away, but I didn’t look back to see. We were probably standing a little too close to the street, but my mind was on the intimidating building in front of us. I had never been to a bar before.
Joey tugged me along, probably getting tired of standing out in the cold, and into the dimmed bar. It was surprisingly busy for a Wednesday night, but it was nothing like I’d imagined it would be.
There were no questionable people dressed in barely-there clothing. Instead, there were women in dresses much like Joey’s and my dress, and then there were men in suits that I knew were expensive.
I looked at Joey, and she winked. “You said you wanted to go somewhere nice. This bar attracts more of an older crowd and is relativ
ely tame compared to the other bars around New York City. I’m sure no one will recognize you here, and even if they do, it’ll be nothing more than a vague recollection.”
“How did you even know about this place?” I asked softly. The music wasn’t loud, and as Joey had said, most of the customers were actually pretty subdued.
“John told me about it. He was thinking of buying a new place, somewhere different. He said the owners were selling, so he came and checked it out.”
“It might be different than the kind of place he’s used to running, don’t you think?”
John was Joey’s boss at the Four Henchmen, a small bar close to campus that attracted mostly college students. Joey bartended there most weekends.
“I think he’s just looking. Who knows what that man wants? Oh, look. A table just opened up. Come on.”
I followed Joey deeper into the bar and noticed a few looks coming our way from some of the older men. I quickly diverted my eyes elsewhere, lest they think I was interested.
“Some of the people here are a lot older than you and me,” I whispered.
Joey’s smile widened. “It’s a good thing we’re not here to get laid, then. Just a celebratory drink tonight. Maybe some dinner. And then we’re going home.”
“You know I’m okay, don’t you?” I asked softly. Because I knew that was why Joey had dragged us here tonight. This was not her scene. This place was too tame for her. And this was not my scene. My scene contained less people and a lot more books.
“Of course you are. And I am right here if you ever want to talk about it.” She patted the hand I had laid on top of the table.
I shrugged. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Well, like I said, I’m still here.” Joey took off her black coat and hung it on the back of her chair.
The waitress came up to our table, halting all conversation. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties and was tastefully dressed. She also wore a professional smile that was comforting in some way.
“Hi, ladies. What are we drinking tonight?”
“Two dry martinis,” Joey answered.
“Perfect. Can I see both of your IDs?” I’d had mine ready before she even asked. She seemed surprised with how quickly I pulled it out, and I tried to act like I had done this a million times.
Joey acted more natural. She pulled her fake ID out of her purse and handed it to the woman, smiling. Our waitress took her sweet time assessing the IDs, and I begin to sweat beneath the coat I had yet to take off. Finally, she smiled, handed the incriminating IDs back to us, and walked away.
Joey let out a small laugh. “You really need to lie more often. With the way you’re acting, it’s like you’ve never lied before in your life.”
“You know what a terrible liar I am,” I hissed. And that was the truth of it. It was why I hardly lied, especially to those who knew me well enough to have figured out all of my tells by now.
She shook her head and grabbed the menu that was already placed on the table. “What do you feel like eating tonight? And before you say anything, it’s my treat, okay?” I opened my mouth to protest, when she shot me a look.
I rolled my eyes in exasperation and grinned. “Okay. Your treat.” Opening the menu, I looked at the appetizer options. “Why don’t we just order a bunch of appetizers?”
“Hmm, sounds good.”
Joey continued to peruse the menu, and since I wasn’t as picky of an eater as she, I let her decide what to order while I took in the bar. The patrons were all nicely dressed. I imagined this was the kind of place my grandpa would have liked to visit.
The bar was both intimate and professional. There was even an electric fireplace across the room, with a few people sitting nearby at a table, talking in a group. Though no one was quiet here, they weren’t very loud either. It was not the kind of place anyone would go to get drunk—it was much too classy for that. And perhaps because this place and the people in it all reminded me of my childhood, it was endearing itself to me.
We all sought the familiar in unfamiliar places. I was the same. Some things were hard to let go of, I supposed.
“I’m going to use the bathroom. Just order us whatever, okay?” I said to Joey, taking off my white puffy coat. She gave me a thumbs-up, texting someone on her phone.
I pushed back the chair, grabbed my purse, and stood up. I took a quick look around the place and found the sign for the bathroom almost immediately. To get there, I had to pass the bar top, every seat filled with people, mostly men, and for some reason, that fact intimated the heck out of me.
I walked carefully across the bar and ignored some of the stares coming my way. I should be used to having eyes on me. But here, no one knew me. No one knew that my net worth was probably more than what some of them would make in their lifetime, and it was mine without any hard work on my part.
Being a stranger here felt more dangerous somehow. Because when someone knew my “worth,” they were careful around me. Maybe it was because I wasn’t used to being around strangers without at least some form of protection, but here, I felt infinitely vulnerable.
At the end of the bar top sat two men. Two men who stood out for no other reason than their size. They were easily the biggest men around. I was sure the suits they wore were custom-made, because they just didn’t make suits in that size.
And if their size was what caught my attention, it was the man farthest away from me that held it.
He was unique.
I wouldn’t call him handsome. Handsome was too tame of a word to describe him. No, he was insanely attractive. With a muscular build, broad shoulders, a straight nose, and a dark complexion not easily achieved through tanning, the man’s arms alone seemed to be as big as my thighs. His auburn hair was cut short, though a few messy strands made their way onto his forehead, a huge contrast to the expensive, neat black suit he wore.
And his eyes. They were the clearest gray I had ever seen, framed by thick, long eyelashes that should have taken away from his masculinity, yet didn’t. And he was staring right at me.
I stuttered in my steps, and his friend reached out a hand to steady me. I took my gaze off the strangely beautiful man to look at the man who now had his arm around my waist, and found him to be equally intimidating and equally, if not more, beautiful.
This man had a cocky smile, a smile that told everyone he met that he was a man used to getting what he wanted. He was also rough around the edges, with bright hazel eyes and short brown hair styled in a crew cut. And though I found his eyes beautiful, I also knew he had the eyes of a man who’d seen a lot of shit in the world, yet had been able to make it to the top. I might have thought he looked scary, had he not been smiling at me, showing a hint of a dimple on his right cheek.
“Careful, love,” he said softly, pulling me closer to him.
“Thanks,” I whispered, unable to make my voice any louder. I pulled away when the man didn’t let me go, and shot his friend one last look before making my way to the bathroom.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a long time after that, hating my reaction to the man. A reaction I oddly wanted to experience again. I wanted to feel my heart race inside my chest because I was looking into his gray eyes, and I wanted my skin to prickle with awareness because he was close by.
I even wanted the strange surge of excitement I felt in my stomach just from a small glimpse of him, and knew this was what attraction must feel like.
I was twenty and sadly inexperienced. Not because I didn’t want to experience it all, but because I wanted to experience it with someone I was attracted to.
I was picky about those I spend my time with—my upbringing had taught me that lesson the hard way. The truth of the matter was, I didn’t much like people. And the thought of getting naked with someone I didn’t think too highly of didn’t sit well with me, especially if that person was someone who didn’t cause any reaction in my body.
I wasn’t saving myself for marriage or for love. All
I asked was to feel a small attraction for someone, anyone. But not even as teenager, with hormones running rampant in my system, had I felt a ripple of excitement for anyone else.
And here I was, experiencing it for a man who was obviously too old for me, far too experienced, and as unattainable as the stars in the sky. And it wasn’t a flutter I was experiencing, but a detonation of a bomb.
It took my breath away.
I now knew why Joey experimented with everything and everyone. It wasn’t experience for experience’s sake.
It was for the thrill of it.
I washed my hands, took one last look in the mirror, and walked out.
The two men were still there, talking quietly to one another and sipping their drinks—a dark golden liquid of sorts that looked as expensive as the men who ordered them. I was disappointed when the man didn’t even glance my way as I walked past him. His friend did, however, flashing me a charming smile, complete with dimples. I quickly made my way back to the table.
Joey glanced up, the smile on her face fading a little. “Everything okay?”
My confusion and disappointment over the lack of response from the man must have shown on my face. I plastered on a smile I didn’t feel and nodded. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were in the bathroom for a while.”
“If you think I holed myself up in the stall and started hyperventilating, well, then you don’t know me very well. Aunt Helen always said to save the hyperventilating for the privacy of your own bedroom.”
Joey looked at me for a second before she threw her head back and laughed. “She did not.”
I laughed too. “No, she didn’t say that. But that sounds like something she would say, right?”
“Oh my God. I almost believed you. You spend so much time with her—you’ve already adopted her smile, I wouldn’t be surprise if you adopted her manners as well.”
