Sweet Virgin

by Leah Holt

  If I was out and saw these two people, I never would've pegged them as his parents. He looked like he was born from a different version of the two people at the table. From what I could see the only resemblance was the slight indent of Hegan's chin that matched his father's.

  “Why hello, here you guys are. Finally.” Brandon's stern words hit my ear. There was no joking with this man, I could see it already.

  Hegan inhaled a large huff of air, I watched his chest expand slowly as he spoke. “Hey, Dad. The roads were a bit rough, but we're here. Only five minutes after the time you said, not a big deal.”

  “Well, in my world you're on time if you're early. You should make note of that.”

  I could feel the tension between them, it was so strong you could slice it with a knife. They stared at each other like two dogs trying to lead the same pack. Eyes sizing each other up for the fight, ready to strike if either flinched in their movements.

  A soft voice floated from Brandon's side. “Honey, please.” Stella lifted her hand to his waist, gently resting her fingertips at the pocket of his suit.

  “Dad, this is—”

  Cutting Hegan off, I said, “Noella. I'm Noella, it's nice to meet you, Sir.” Extending my hand, he gripped it firmly.

  Hegan shot me a glance. He had only known me as Copper. Now he knew something real about me.

  He knew my name.

  I don't think he expected that. The wide gaze, and wrinkles crawling up his forehead; it painted a clear picture for me, I'd thrown him off guard.

  Did he really expect that I would sit here and be referred to as Copper? Please.

  There was no way in hell that I wanted to be here with his parents and have them calling me by that. Copper was my stage name, and as much as this was a play, I wasn't at the strip club. This was Hegan's real life, it deserved my real name.

  Besides, I hated that fucking name.

  “It's nice to meet you too. I'm Brandon, this is my wife Stella. Please, sit.” He flattened his coat against his chest as he sat back down.

  Turning to pull my chair out, I realized Hegan had already done that. He was standing behind me, holding the back of my seat, waiting for me to sit so he could push me in.

  Seriously? No guy... And I mean no guy, contains those manners anymore. Really?

  I was under the impression that gentlemen were only raised in the south now. They came in the form of cowboys, riding a bucking bronco and living at home till they were thirty just so they could help their mama.

  Didn't they?

  Hegan, a gentleman? Was it possible?

  Could the man who had just fucked me on the counter this morning, the man that wants to force me to have his child; really contain an ounce of chivalry? It blew my mind.

  “Thank you,” I said, sitting down. Cupping my hands in my lap, I would be lying if I didn't say I was nervous. My fingers braided together tightly, twitching against my thigh.

  His father looked so professional; prim and proper on all angles. His mother appeared to have been bred by a royal family. Her fingers touched everything with such finesse, such grace. Stella seemed to treat every item like it was made from the most fragile material on earth.

  “Noella, Hegan hasn't told us much about you. He tends to leave us in the dark these days.” Brandon flicked his eyes up, holding static for an instant, a long hard instant, on his son. “Where are you from?” Drifting back to his glass, his face sat motionless, elbows rested on the table holding up his chin.

  Pausing briefly, I thought about how much to reveal from my personal life. Should I be honest? Be yourself, Noella. Just be yourself.

  “I live in Providence, but grew up in Coventry, Sir.” Curling my fingers around each other, I smiled coyly.

  “Providence, I have an office up there. Do you go to school? Hegan decided against it. Even though I could have gotten him into any college he wanted.”

  “Dad, come on. Don't make this about me. I didn't bring her to meet you just so you could rag on me the entire time.” His nostrils flared angrily, brows dipping down. “We can just—”

  “I was in school,” I chimed in, cutting him off. “I had started at Johnson and Whales, was there for two years until...” Gripping the napkin, I rolled it between my fingers.

  “Until?” Brandon asked, sipping on his glass of Chardonnay.

  “It's complicated, but I'll be going back next year, hopefully.” Damn, his dad made me so uncomfortable. He never broke his stare, never cracked a smile; he just glared.

  “School is important. That shouldn't be something you wave under the rug.” Speaking into his glass, he said, “Like my son.”

  The royal touch of his wife, crawled across his shoulder. “Brandon, let's change the subject. Noella, your dress, it's...” Stella looked me up and down, her body shifting against the seat. “Nice.” I could hear the distaste in her words. Each one was lifeless, sought out as the best compliment she could find.

  I could tell what she really thought; that I looked like a slut.

  And I couldn't blame her for it either. She was the wealthy wife of a high profile businessman. Her world was lavished with jewels and fancy things that no person in the real world would ever think to buy.

  I could bet any money the small, silver chain wrapping her wrist cost more than my car. And her earrings, cut diamonds tiered in sets, cost as much as my parents house.

  These people had lost touch with reality, with normalcy.

  Unfortunately, not all of us are blessed with endless bank accounts and gold taste for useless things.

  “Thank you.” I ran my hands over my ribs as I said, “You know I bet this color would look great on you.” Smirking, I glanced over at Hegan. A subtle smile was peeking from the corner of his mouth.

  “No Dear, I couldn't pull that off. Maybe when I was your age, but not now.” Stella laughed, a laugh of sophistication mixed with humor.

  Maybe she wasn't as uptight as I thought. At least she joked about it.

  “Stella, settle yourself.” Brandon jerked his head towards his wife, unhappy about her relaxed comment.

  “Dad, she's joking. Lighten up, shit.” Hegan's hand fell on top of the table, knocking the silverware together.

  “Hegan. Do not speak like that at this table.” His father snapped at him, chest holding down the air he wanted to use to yell at his son. “Noella, what do your parents do for work?”

  “Dad, stop with the interrogation already,” Hegan said, palming his forehead.

  I wasn't sure exactly what Hegan knew about me. He knew what I did for work, about my mother being sick. But did he also know my dad was a janitor and my mom, before the cancer, was a maid?

  Either way, it was clear to me; any of what my life was, would never be good enough for Brandon Alexander.

  “Yes, Brandon. Let's keep this lunch light. There will be plenty of time to get all the details.” His mother grinned at me from across the table as her eyes shifted between mine and the glass of wine to her right. “Would you like some wine, Dear?”

  “Please,” I said. That woman could have offered me anything, and I would have taken it to help ease the flutters bouncing around my stomach.

  “Alright. Noella, do you have any interest in government affairs?”

  “Well, that depends. If you're talking about straight politics, then not exactly. If you want to talk about state budgets and how they're spent, then I'm all ears.”

  Brandon tilted his head to his shoulder. “Budgets, huh? I'm a man of money, so budgets are right up my alley.” Waving at the waiter, he gestured for another bottle of wine.

  I could feel Hegan's eyes burning into my neck. Twisting to look at him, his face was set with a look of confusion. I had just been shocking him left and right today. “You follow state spending?” His jaw went crooked, lip lifting up. He looked like an Elvis impersonator. A very bad Elvis impersonator.

  “Yeah, a little. I hate hearing about all the debt the state is in and how they divide their money.
The reps are over paid, as well as all the people underneath them. They don't spread the money well at all.”

  “Well, now I have to disagree on that. The reps get paid what they are worth. The state only has so much to give.”

  “And that excuses what?”

  Cocking his brow, Brandon said, “Excuse me?”

  “Well, as I see it, the state is constantly cutting budgets from areas that desperately need it. But, no one else gets the same cuts, none of the state employees ever get budget cuts. They all retain the same salary and get their raises.”

  “Noella, you don't know what those people do. I can tell.”

  “Sir, I don't mean to sound disrespectful. But those people, have no idea what the hell they're doing. If that's all it takes, sign me up. I'd love to get paid to blow everyone's money on things that don't matter.”

  Suddenly, I felt Hegan drape his hand over my thigh. Squeezing tightly, he leaned into my ear and whispered. “I'm actually enjoying this.” His fingertips circled the exposed flesh of my thigh.

  “Well, I may disagree with you, but you definitely pay more attention to important topics, unlike my son. Hegan, maybe you should try and take a few tips from your new girlfriend. Get your head out of your ass and open your eyes a little. Otherwise you know what's coming.”

  The fire rolled from Hegan's nose, his breath was hot, ready to launch at Brandon from across the table. On reflex I gripped his hand, clenching it tightly.

  “I need to use the bathroom, can you excuse me?” The two of them, fighting each other with there eyes, was really uncomfortable. I needed to take a break, get a little breather.

  Pointing towards an opening to the left, Stella said, “It's right over there, Dear.”

  “Thank you.” Nodding politely, I pressed up out of the seat, and headed towards the restroom.

  The same feeling I had when we walked into the club struck my gut; a sense of awkwardness as every eye honed in on me. Looking straight ahead, I didn't want to take my sight off that place of safety. A place I could slink into and be away from the stares of everyone in the room.

  I didn't belong there and everyone in the place knew it. Suddenly, a skinny man stepped into view. Resting his arm on the door frame, he leaned across the entire entrance.

  “Excuse me, can I get through?” I asked, stopping short.

  He looked to be a bit older, maybe late forties. His hair was peppered with gray, slicked back tight against his skull. A tight checkered sweater hung snugly against the small pot belly under his shirt. “So, that's a nice dress you have on.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip, slurping his saliva as he inhaled through his teeth.

  Rolling my eyes, I tapped my thumb against my thigh. “I need to get through, excuse me.” Stepping forward, I tried to force him to move. But he stood still, unfazed by my lack of enthusiasm for his comment.

  Sliding his forefinger and thumb over his jaw line, he ran his eyes up and down my body. “How much?”

  Tossing him a crooked glare, I asked, “What?”

  “You heard me. How much? I could use a piece of ass like you, my dick is lonely. I'm sure you could perk him up a bit.” Grabbing his crotch, I watched him imagine fucking me in his head.

  “Fuck off, Asshole. I'm not a hooker.” Holding the strap to my purse, I felt like I was two seconds away from hitting the guy with it.

  “You're not a hooker? Come on, look at you. You're definitely a hooker.” Shifting on his feet, the man bit his bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth.

  Raising my voice, I said, “I'm not a fucking hooker, now move.”

  Suddenly, I felt hands curl over my shoulders, moving me to the side. Hegan was standing beside me, shoulders pulled back tight. His hands were clenched by his sides, a look of sheer destruction smothered his face. “What did you just say to her?”

  The man held his hand out, still leaning so smugly in doorway. “Your bitch here is being difficult. I was just looking for a little fun later tonight, and—”

  Hegan didn't let another word from the old asshole come out. In one swift jerk of his arm, Hegan had him by the back of the neck. “You don't talk to her that way.” He muscled out through his teeth. I watched his fingers dig into the guy's neck, dipping in so far his nails disappeared into his flesh.

  “Look, Hegan, I don't understand. She's dressed like a fucking prostitute, I just thought...”

  “No, you didn't think. That's the problem. Now get the fuck out, before I really hurt you. Do you understand me, Alex?”

  Alex shook his head, and Hegan shoved him in the direction of the front doors. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he led me back to the table, never taking his eyes off the guy who had just insulted me.

  And I had a rush of excitement hit me full force, my heart fluttering inside my chest. Electricity coursed through my nerves, my stomach turned like a wild fire loose in dry tinder. He had just stood up for me, protected me from some fucking pervert.

  Watching his face, his eyes, his lips; I wanted to kiss him, thank him for what he did. Hegan didn't have to stand up for me, but he did.

  Sitting back down, Stella was glaring, eyes gaping open at her son. “Hegan, was all that necessary?” The scolding tone of a mother flew from behind her lips, hushed behind embarrassment. She didn't approve of what he'd just done, and the fact it was in front of everyone here.

  Coiling her fingers around her wrists, she looked around the room. The quiet voices started to raise as they all whispered among each other, glancing in our direction.

  “You know what? I think we're done here.” Shoving back from the table, he threw his napkin down. “Come on.” Standing briskly, he whipped around and stormed off.

  Smiling through thin lips, I said, “It was nice to meet you both.” A sorrowful feeling began to work its way over my mind, I started to feel bad for Hegan.

  His father gave him no slack, you could see in his dad's eyes, Hegan had failed him. Or at least he hadn't held up to his expectations. To sit through that short lunch with his parents, to see the small glimpse into the life he's had, a wave of mournful emotion pressed on me.

  He had just put himself between me and some freak trying to get me to fuck him. And to his parents, that was only another embarrassment on their list.

  Hegan had probably lived his entire existence being compared to others, or looked down on if he didn't succeed just like his father wanted.

  What did his dad mean? 'You know what's coming.' What was Brandon holding over his head, dangling it like a toy for his cat? He wanted something from Hegan, something he expected.

  Was he the reason Hegan needed a baby? Was that possible?

  I had a moment of comparison, a flash of our lives mirroring each other.

  Hegan had said he needed a baby or he would lose everything.

  My family wasn't directly holding anything over my head, but I had to help them. It was only right I did whatever it took to get my mother the treatment she needed. It didn't matter what or how.

  Our lives had intersected in such a way that we both seemed to be in the same boat, riding the same storm.

  Two people, and two worlds that have collided into one fucked up story.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hegan

  That man made me sick. My father couldn't help himself, he felt the need to break me down any chance he got. That was my everyday, see how many different ways my father could jab his disappointments at my failures.

  I was happy she stuck with what she felt, not letting him shadow her thoughts or warp her point of view. She didn't care if he disagreed with her or thought the complete opposite. She stood by what she believed. And it was fucking hot.

  Noella...

  Noella, that was her name. It was pretty, suiting her even.

  I wanted to say her name out loud. Repeating it over and over in my head, the letters twisted like the fiery curls of her hair; twining fiercely and burning into my brain.

  Tilting my head, my eyes veered over my shoulder. Sh
e was sitting so quiet, so still. Her hands were clasped tightly, softly resting on her lap. A thin strand of hair waved gently across her face, being pushed around from the heat expelled by the vents.

  I couldn't stop staring at her. There was something about her; the way she sat, the way she held herself.

  It hooked me.

  Turning up the driveway, I slid the shifter into park. My chest was pounding, sending the blood coursing through every vein. Sitting here next to her wasn't good enough, I needed her. Now.

  “What are you doing?” A slender finger shoved the loose hair back, brows raising up high. “Why did you stop here?”

  “Noella, so that's your name. I like it.” Running my hand over my hair, I asked, “How come you told them your real name?”

  “Did I say it was my real name?” She arched her lip, the pink glaze shimmering from the sun.

  “You answered my dad pretty fast, so I assumed it was.” Shrugging my shoulders, I leaned in on the center console. The one barrier between us created more distance than I wanted.

  “It is. I told you I didn't want to be called Copper. That's just for work.” Her eyes shifted to the dashboard, hand fiddling with the vent.

  “This wasn't work?” Cracking a grin, I eyed her tits as they were forced up with each breath she took.

  Bringing her face back to mine, her lips parted. “That was your life. Not mine. It would've been wrong for me to try and be someone else there.”

  I couldn't stop myself, all I wanted to do since leaving that restaurant was fuck her. Fuck her and call her name, her real name. Let the words fill me to the brim and explode off my tongue.

  On impulse I cupped her cheek, running my thumb over the delicate trim of her chin. Noella's lashes fluttered, spanning her eyes like small canopies. “Hegan, I can't do this. It's wrong, we can't bring a child into the world for our own gains.” She turned her head away, pulling out from my hand.

  Sighing heavily, my eyes rolled in place. “I can't lose everything. He's going to take it all, everything.”

  “So, do you have any idea what I'm going to lose? You're worried about money, I'm looking at losing my mom. There's a big difference.” Noella's chest began to heave, her mouth inhaling quickly to slow her lungs down.