Smoldered

by Rachel Blaufeld

  I shook my head, took a deep breath, and said, “Don’t placate me, Penny. Just don’t. We are friends, right? Friends don’t mess around with the same man their friend is screwing, even if it’s not serious. Where did you ever come up with this being okay? It’s not. And obviously Asher knew it because he kept it well hidden, which isn’t what he did with his other little pieces of meat he was enjoying. And you…”

  Then I turned to take in the brown-haired girl who, although younger than me, appeared anything but sweet. “I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. So don’t even think for one minute that you being here has any impact on me other than furthering my disgust for Asher and his need to engage with two women at once.”

  I barely came up for air before I stormed past them to the bathroom and poked around in the corner by the mirror, found my hamsa behind the toothbrush holder, and hurried back out.

  Penny and the mysterious girl didn’t say a word.

  As I was leaving, I turned back around and said, “You’re just an ego trip for a man who was brutally bruised by his mother leaving him on a stranger’s doorstep. He’s spent his whole life chasing any female’s attention. But don’t think for a minute you represent anything more than a stroke to his delicate ego, making him feel worthwhile. He uses women like you to reassure himself that someone loves, needs, and wants him.”

  I let out a little snort as they stared at me wide-eyed. “Why the hell do you think I never committed? I didn’t want to be that woman, the one who spends a lifetime proving she would never stop loving him. Even though I am that woman. Now I’m just fucking glad I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Asher made his choice when he picked you two to take to bed. Now he’s your problem. Not mine.”

  Not waiting for a reply, I patted Gloria on the arm and said, “Thanks, dear.”

  Beware of Falling Boulders

  Asher

  AS I walked to my car slightly buzzed after leaving my liquor vendor, I picked up my vibrating phone without looking at who was calling. Mindlessly swiping my finger across the screen, I had no idea that small action would mark the precise moment my carefully crafted world would start to crumble.

  When I answered, the female on the line spoke in a hushed voice. “Ash, don’t be mad, but I think we have a little problem.”

  “Who is this?” I moved the phone away from my ear to look at the screen. It read LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD, my contact name for Penny.

  Shit. What now?

  She must have answered my question while I was staring at the phone because when I put the phone back to my ear, she was saying, “Ash, you there? Did you hear me? It’s Penny.”

  “What, Penelope? What could possibly warrant all the dramatics?”

  I copped a bit of an attitude with her, but Jesus Christ, the women in my life were making me bonkers. Sienna with the stalker and the suitor, Natalie not chasing after Beck for money, and now Penny with God only knew what.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this, Asher, so I’m just gonna say it. Lark and I went back to sleep like you said we should, and all of a sudden the door to the bedroom burst open—”

  I ran my hand through my hair and didn’t let her finish before I said, “Oh shit. Gloria was coming to clean. That’s no biggie, Pen.”

  I started to zone out from the silly redhead and her crazy problem.

  “Not Gloria. Well, yes, Gloria…and Natalie.”

  “What did you just say?” I snapped back into reality and yelled into the phone.

  Horrified, I launched into full-on pacing the parking lot, moving back and forth like a teenage girl who’d just been dumped. All the alcohol in my system evaporated, and I broke out in a cold sweat.

  “Fucking talk,” I screamed into the tiny piece-of-shit phone again.

  “Natalie. She said she left some necklace at your place last week, and Sienna gave Gloria the go-ahead to let her in, and the rest is history. There we were—Lark and I—stark naked in your bed, tangled in the sheets just as you left us.”

  I couldn’t breathe, a wrecking ball beating against my chest, my true feelings only just becoming clear. Fuck, what had I done? “Well, don’t just sit there, Penny. What the hell did you do?” I yelled, blindly kicking my boot into the gravel as I wished I could strangle someone right about now.

  She went on to tell me the rest, how Natalie had freaked the hell out about the two of them being friends, and me being a needy son of a bitch, and then had stormed out before they could reason with her. And that was it.

  I disconnected without a good-bye.

  God, I was such a fucker to be blaming Penelope, but if not her, who the hell else?

  Me. That’s right.

  Nothing more sobering than a phone call from one of the two women you’d banged the night before, letting you know the woman you recently realized you might love had discovered the other two still warm and naked in your bed.

  Clusterfuck of all clusterfucks.

  Now stone-cold sober, I drove straight to my office and threw a flaming baton on an already burning inferno. I threatened to go to Natalie’s place, where I’d never gone before. In a text.

  Ready, Set, Go

  Natalie

  I’D LOST track of all time. The seconds, minutes, hours, or days that had passed since I left Asher’s house were a blurry mess of tears and apologies.

  With Asher’s mansion looming in the rearview, I’d cried my first round of tears before picking up Quinn and taking some solace in my gorgeous little boy. I smoothed his wavy hair behind his ear as he told me about his day, then kissed his forehead at bedtime, losing myself in his innocent and heart-stopping eyes. But that comfort was short-lived.

  After he went to sleep, a second wave of tears swept me away, pulling me under, making it almost impossible to push through and breathe, fight to live. In the end, I only had myself to blame. I was the one who pushed Asher to make a move that one night in his office, fooling myself that we could play with no strings attached for myself. Obviously, it was hard for me, but pretty damned easy for him.

  My cell phone rang and rang endlessly. I should have turned it off, but it could have been my mom. It wasn’t. The same number over and over. His number twenty-five times. Then the texting began.

  One, two, fifteen messages dinged until finally, the last one dropped the big bomb:

  Asher: I’m coming over if you don’t pick up. I don’t want to do something you’ve asked me not to, but I don’t have a choice. Answer your phone NOW.

  The phone rang and I cleared my throat, trying to sound strong before I answered. I had no idea whether I was successful because I could barely hear myself over the ringing in my ears, the blood roaring through my body, and the pounding in my head.

  “Hello.”

  “Natalie, let me explain.”

  “No. No explanations needed. I knew my place in your life. Christ, I’m the one that made it that way. I only answered the phone to say I’m now going to shut it off. If you dare to show up, I’ll call the police. Stay away from me.”

  “Nat, babe. Please?”

  “No. I’ll see you at work, Asher, and you better not drag this out there. I may have been fine with everyone knowing we were fuck-buddies, but I can’t handle being embarrassed like this.”

  “Nat?”

  “Good-bye.”

  I swiped my finger across the END CALL button, powered down the phone, and finally breathed. Not sure if I even took in any oxygen during the entire conversation, I gasped for air, clutched my chest, and doubled over in bed. After years of hiding my feelings below the surface of my hard exterior, playing the role of the jaded stripper, I was a brokenhearted stupid woman.

  Precisely the type of woman I never wanted to be.

  ARMED IN my tough exterior and an outfit leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, I stuffed my take from Friday night deep in my purse, changed my clothes, and hurried the hell out of the club, leaving no time for anyone to interact with me. Assholes. All of them.
<
br />   It worked to my advantage that there was yet another Sienna crisis with all the tweets about her being spotted on her adorbs sweet little date with her new perfect hunk of a man, Carson. The two of them ended up having to be rescued from a stalker by none other than Asher and Petey.

  Couldn’t have worked out better for me. Asher was distracted and the whole club was a little off. I worked, slithered all over a suit, feeling his erection as I rubbed my ass up and down his chest, my hands massaging his thighs, giving him the lap dance of his life. That was what I was good at, and I was getting the hell out of here to do precisely that. I needed to be anywhere other than here STAT.

  I rushed to my car, barely acknowledging anyone on the way out, and hit the road.

  Stopped at a light, I grabbed my phone and texted Lynx, who was with Quinn at my place. My mom didn’t take him today for one reason or another. She was being all secretive about her plans, and I didn’t have time for her personal problems.

  I had my own shit fest.

  Me: Hey, L. On my way home. If you’re awake, go home. I’ll be there in 10. No need to stay.

  I wanted her the heck out of there so I could start packing. As soon as I could get a flight, I was leaving, heading to Miami. I didn’t want to overreact, but Asher had slept with a friend of mine and that other little young thing at the same time. I mean, really? I was pretty sure that having a ménage with a mutual friend and someone way younger and prettier than me definitely violated the friends-with-benefits contract.

  Coming to another light, I acknowledged the beep from my phone.

  Lynx: Are you sure? Just text me when you’re home, OK?

  Me: OK. Will do.

  Two more lights, and I was walking up the stairs to my place. As I unlocked the door, I noticed the light was on over at the girls’ apartment next door, and for a second, I wanted to go over and explain. But it was too messy. I had needed to move on for a while, and discovering Penny and that other girl in Asher’s bed just forced the issue.

  An unwanted tear escaped and trickled down my cheek. I thought I was all cried out, but obviously not. Crying wasn’t usually my thing, yet over the last day, I couldn’t stop. Swiping the salty wetness across my cheek and nose, I unlocked my door with blurry eyes, made a pot of coffee, looked up airline flights, and started packing up my belongings.

  Within a day or two, I’d be gone.

  I had to tell my mom and someone from the club. The someone from the club was the tricky part. Who? Petey made the most sense. He was the one I could manipulate; I could force him to wait to say anything to Asher until I was long gone.

  My mom would be easy. She’d been acting like a real bitch lately and wanted me to go, she said, if I was going to keep up with my “bullshit.” Me? She was the one acting all different and distancing herself. I didn’t know what made her change her attitude, but screw her. If she wanted to throw Quinn and me out, let her.

  With a newfound resolve slapped on like a suit of armor, I pulled my luggage from under my bed and started tossing clothes inside. Luckily, all we had was our personal items and clothing. My apartment was furnished and everything in it could be left in Vegas, along with my shattered heart.

  Shoving sweatshirts, yoga pants, and the remainder of my “mom” clothes into a duffel, my hardened shell cracked like the facade it was. Tears freely fell onto the soft fabrics, darkening their bright colors, marking them in front of me, reminding me of how my own soul both changed and was forever marked when I found out I was pregnant.

  I was so naive to think I could do it all on my own, survive eighteen years of parenting without a partner other than my mom. And now as sure as my eyes were puffy and swollen from releasing the pain, there was living proof that I wasn’t good enough.

  Obviously I wasn’t smart enough to have a career other than stripping, nowhere near tough enough to be a single parent without running scared from my issues, and it was painfully obvious I would never be enough, let alone be the one, for Asher.

  Ha. The one.

  As if there was a one for that man. He was a man whore. Always had been and always would be a male slut.

  Moving to my dresser, I balled up my panties, stuffed my bras with socks, and filled another duffel. I ran my hand along the bureau, taking in the photos of Quinn and me—his baby pics from the day I brought him home from the hospital, a number of class photos, and one of just the two of us riding the roller coaster on the Strip. No sign of the man who gave him life and half of his DNA. I’d secured that destiny for my son because I was too stupid and scared to admit I wanted more than just a baby daddy.

  I believed I could be enough, both mom and dad to my beautiful boy, just like I convinced myself getting involved with Asher with no ties would be fulfilling. I’d been freaking in love with him my whole life. What did I think would happen?

  Wetness was raining, pouring down onto my bureau from my own face, my nose dripping like a faucet. I wiped my tear-stained face across my sleeve as I stared into the mirror at what a failure I’d become. Of course Asher wanted Penny and that girl, sweet little Larken, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with a tight vagina, not one stretched by having a baby. Not a woman who stripped and was rumored to do extra stuff in the back room of the Leop.

  No, I was disposable. Like I’d always been when it came to Asher.

  Thank God I hadn’t totally fallen for his charms and given him my heart on a silver platter since my last visit to his house. I had guarded my feelings, keeping them under wraps, and now I was so freaking thankful for that one saving grace.

  I finished shoving all my shit in duffels and suitcases, only leaving out enough for a day or two before getting in the shower. I let the scalding hot water fall over me, washing away the old tears and mixing with the new ones, while I leaned against the wall and ran my hand across my chest in a halfhearted attempt to fuse my broken heart. One that had no business being broken.

  At nineteen, I gave up the right to a breakable heart when I did what I did, knowing I could get pregnant while doing it, and let it happen anyway. My heart had to remain intact and impermeable for the young boy who was about to wake up excited about two days out of school.

  After my shower, I pulled on a robe and opened my laptop. Five minutes later I hit PURCHASE for two tickets on Monday, ensuring this would be my final weekend in Las Vegas.

  Too bad it had to be this Saturday and not the one from the week before that I remembered as my last.

  Off to the Races

  Asher

  FRIDAY FELT both slow and fast. Life continually landing more bullets to my heart, I was unable to do anything other than sit in my office like the wounded chump I was.

  Before nightfall, I was forced to get the hell out of my own damn head and deal with Sienna, who’d been spotted by the press on the Strip with her new man, having coffee and dessert at the Palace, of all places. Her stalker had been there as well, and I spent the better part of my day running security detail on her.

  I didn’t know what to deal with first: my own life, Sienna’s changing persona, or the security breach at the club. Mostly because they were all connected, and I was getting tied up in the branches of the very own family tree I had built.

  All the chaos allowed Natalie to storm into work, then lock herself in her dressing room. When she came out, she was in the most revealing outfit I’d ever seen her wear—a fire-engine-red thong and matching see-through bustier, her nipples on display for anyone who wanted to look, and there were plenty who did.

  Naturally, she found herself a very wealthy, willing, and able man to keep her occupied in the back. On the video feed, I watched her shove an already distraught Petey out of the way as she headed toward the back, ignoring his attempts to keep an eye on her. At the end of the night, she grabbed her take without a word on her way out the door.

  Everyone knew something was up, but I couldn’t say shit. That would make everything worse. She’d asked me not to, and I wasn’t poking the bear any more than I alre
ady had. So I was forced to watch her work, then take a customer into the back room—where she knew I hated for her to work—and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  I was helpless and a wreck. And distracted with Sienna. Shit.

  I was disgusted with myself, acting like a college-aged girl when I’d never even taken one credit in college. Glancing down at my crotch, I reassured myself I still had a dick.

  AN AWFUL Friday bled into an even worse Saturday. I was running interference with Sienna and her continuing problems, trying to get close to her boyfriend, Carson, in order to keep an eye on their little budding romance, and my life was shit.

  I called Big Mike into my office in the afternoon, and that prick only added to the mix.

  I thought he was my friend.

  With my boots placed solidly on the floor in front of me, my arms laid across the desk as I stared down the target in front of me, I asked him, “What the fuck, man? You got something on this Beck guy? Natalie is more pissed at me than ever, and I gotta do something to help her, get her back in my good graces. Come on, man.”

  He didn’t sit. Pacing the floor in my office, sucking down a bottle of water, Mike said, “Nah, man. Got nada for you. Been all tied up with watching Sie, and now her man is poking around with his own investigation on the stalker dude. My plate is kinda full making sure nothing happens to our headliner, who happens to be the girl you say is like a sister to you.”

  I leaned back in my chair, never taking my gaze off him. “Come on, Mike. What’s really eating at you? You’ve never told me your plate is full before.”

  He finally stopped pacing and stared back at me. “Rochelle is gone. Caught that bitch in bed with my dad.”

  I jumped up and walked around to the front of my desk before saying, “No shit! What a whore.”