Committed (Book 2) (30 Days)

by K Larsen

  “Yes, we do and we understand. We’re just happy to have you for the weekend babe!” I get double teamed by my girls in a giant hug and can't help but giggle with them. It really has been too long. I’ve missed out on a lot in their lives. We email, text and call but it’s not the same really and lord knows they’ve missed out on my life. It is was it is though and I did what I had to do and never looked back and I’m happy with my life now.

  Cramming into a table for two we order three beers and wait for the band to come on. “So how was the exhibition today?” Marg asks.

  “It went really well. I mingled with some other people in the Virginia area too. Hopefully it will drum up some new business.”

  “Is the shop turning a profit that you can live on now?” Amanda inquires.

  “Yeah, it has been for a while. We’re really starting to get busy. Sawyer and I might need to bring in a third artist. That was the other part of coming to the show today, I wanted to scope out some talent.”

  “Well it sounds like things have really come together for you. I’m happy.” Marg smiles approvingly. It’s nice to know they support me. Eight years ago, hell five years ago if you’d asked me if I would be running my own shop and making money doing it I would have laughed in your face.

  “Thanks.” I smile.

  “Any of you ladies care to dance?” A stocky guy with a bad teenage mustache asks. I snort and shake my head no while Marg looks like she wants to hide under the table and never look at his face again and Amanda, oh boy, she looks like she’s ready to give the guy hell. “You have balls I’ll give you that. What are you? Eighteen? Twenty? How’d you get in here? The street lights are on its past your bedtime.” She flicks her wrist shooing him away as I burst into laughter. “What? We’re cougars but we still have standards.” She giggles.

  “Cougars? Seriously since when does thirty two put you in cougar territory?” I chortle.

  “When the boys hitting on you are a decade or more younger than you. That’s when.” Marg finally lifts her eyes. “Is creepy mustache gone?” We all double over with laughter as we sip our beers.

  As the band steps onto the stage and starts to play their nineties cover songs I think back to when this was the norm in my life. College had been a blast and these two girls had been my partners in crime for four years and change. I really did miss them and having time to just be crazy and wild and free. Marg tugs me to my feet and stumbles a little. I’m really glad I wore my cowboy boots instead of heels. Sure I probably stick out like a sore thumb but I’m comfortable, can dance and will still be able to walk home without my feet feeling like they are bleeding. Hey Jealousy ends and Laid starts and I can’t help but be swept away in the moment. I feel carefree and eighteen again.

  Mid song I’m singing my heart out jumping around wildly having the best time ever when two large hands grip my waist. His fingers splay wide holding me firmly. I feel a tingle course through my body at the contact. My hormones go into overdrive at the long forgotten feeling of being held by a man like this. I stiffen and stand stalk still enjoying the sensation before realizing that I have no male counterpart with me. Don’t Stop Believing starts just as I whip around to face my grabby fan. “We meet again Ms. Lord.” Dominic says coyly. His hands are scorching my sides as I stare up into his dark eyes. He’s so attractive. His black hair is perfectly coiffed and his suit looks like it was tailor made just for him. I’m sure I’m staring like an idiot but the beer has officially sent me one sheet past three to the wind and I can’t form a witty retort. Instead I stare dreamily, like a reject, at the chiseled face before me. I can’t be sure but I think I even sigh. He smiles widely at me and I blink.

  Gathering myself I pull out of his grip and in my drunken stupor stumble backwards landing on the stage. The lead singer takes this as an invitation and hauls me to my feet. Figuring what the hell I rip the mic from his hands and start belting out the song. “Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill. Payin' anything to roll the dice, just one more time. Some will win, some will lose. Some were born to sing the blues. Oh, the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on and on...” The mic is stolen away as the chorus begins and he holds the mic out to the crowd. Amanda and Marg yank me down from the stage barely containing their laughter at my show.

  “What the hell Clara?!” Amanda can barely contain her laughter.

  “Yeah Clara, I had no idea you were a rock star.” A booming deep voice calls out. Marg and Amanda spin around and eye Mr. Dominic Napoli as he reaches out, snags my hand and pulls me to him. I’m stupefied. He’s warm and hard and he smells so flippin’ good. Instead of moving away I stand molded to him.

  “Mr. Napppppoli.” I slur and silently will myself to shut up. “What a pleasuuure.” Amanda kicks my shin hearing my tone but I ignore her. I know she’s trying to save me from the verbal diarrhea attack that’s about to happen. “Although you are apparently the perfect male specimen.” I drag my eyes from his face down to his crotch and back up lewdly. “I really would appreciate it if you could keep your hands to yourself. Perv.” I can’t help it. I know it’s not the right time but I am really freaking hilarious and I bust out laughing at myself.

  He cocks his head to the side and openly stares at me with curiosity. There’s something about him that makes my skin crawl and tingle simultaneously. A war starts between my brain and my hormones. The rational side of me says run away, you hate his kind, but my libido screams, it’s been months, he wants you, have a wild night-take him.

  “Ladies, could I convince you to let me give you all a ride home?” He looks back and forth between Marg and Amanda who stand there stunned stupid looking like enamored school girls. I grunt and give this Dominic character a little shove out of my personal space. “We’re not leaving now.” I growl. I hate being told what to do. It’s a problem.

  “I think you’ve had enough.” He clips.

  “Excuse me? What are you, my father?” I bite out.

  “I think you’ll have a terrible hangover if you don’t quit now.” His arrogance is really, really irritating me.

  “Marg, Manda. We’re leaving. I hate him.” I spout, poke him in the chest and yank my bag from Amanda’s hand while making a beeline for the door. The cool night air hits me like a brick in the face and suddenly instead of feeling refreshed, I feel tired and sick. I lean against the building and hang my head trying to get the spinning to stop.

  “Hey, you alright?” Marg asks rubbing my arm softly.

  “I don’t feel well.” I moan pathetically.

  “NO puking in the taxi.” Amanda laughs. She’s teasing, I never puke. Well not never but it’s a rare occurrence and I usually can hold it together until there’s a clean bathroom insight.

  “Hey! I’m no PJ, there will be no puke and throw from this gal.” I point at myself and attempt to laugh.

  “Oh my god! Do you remember that?” Amanda doubles over with laughter at the memory. Our friend PJ was disgustingly wasted, interestingly enough at the bar we just left, and he threw up in his hand, cupped it, then threw it behind him. He repeated the act until he was finished throwing up. Seriously. Amanda and I had caught him in the act as he stood in the corner discreetly covering his mouth then whipping it behind him into the corner. “That was the most disgusting yet hilarious thing I’ve ever witnessed.” I chuckle. A wave of nausea rolls over me stopping my laugh. I groan and turn away from my friends while I try to fight the impending doom lurking in my stomach.

  “Ew. Are you going to be ok?” Marg asks.

  “Mmhmm... why don’t you head home. I'll text you tomorrow for brunch.” I mutter between deep breaths.

  “Alrighty.... Amanda, see you tomorrow. Love ya Clara!” She calls, her heels click and clack on the sidewalk as she hails a cab.

  “Offer still stands.” That voice is like dark chocolate and silk. I want to look up but I can’t move so I stay doubled over.

  “I don't think you want her riding in your car.” Amanda giggles pointing at me
I’m sure.

  “You look tired. Why don't I have my driver take you home and I’ll stay with Clara until she sobers up.” He offers. I want to protest but my stomach is rolling and I need to continue my deep breathing and concentration to keep everything contained.

  “That sounds wonderful.” Amanda elates. What the fuck! Why is she throwing me under the bus. Hoes before bros apparently has no meaning to her. A strangled groan escapes me and Amanda is instantly at my side.

  “What are you doing?” I hiss at her.

  “Shut up Clara. I'll see you in the morning when you’re ready to thank me.” She snips. I want to strangle her and her good intentions. A car door shuts and I hear Amanda call out have fun before wheels screech and I assume she’s taken off by Dominic’s driver.

  “Clara. Can you stand?” He asks hesitantly.

  “Of course I can stand you turd.” I straighten, push off the wall and immediately wish I hadn't. Everything tips sideways and I feel like death. My crouched hidey hole was a much, much better position. His arm darts out steadying me and I clutch it for dear life. “Wait a moment.” He grumbles. “Yes. The Harp. Thank you.” He clips into his phone. Jerk. Who is he talking to with such attitude? “Clara, I’m going to pick you up.” He says softly, the irritation in his voice from a moment ago gone.

  “Nooo.” I groan. “Feet need to stay on ground.”

  “Sorry darling but we need to move and I don’t think you can keep up.” My feet leave the ground making my stomach turn or maybe it was the pet name, I detest pet names. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my head into his shoulder trying to mentally right myself and tamp down the bile rising in my throat. He walks swiftly, as if I weigh nothing, to the curb and waits as a man opens a car door for him, squatting down he slides into the car with me still attached to him. I’m positioned on his lap and although I really dislike this weirdo I’m relieved to be on my way home. I don’t dare lift my head so I keep it buried in his neck and surprisingly, he holds me tightly to him silently. God, what kind of cologne does he wear, I want to get some for Sawyer because I need to smell this smell all the time. His fingers move gently through my hair and I want to tell him to cut the shit but I can’t make my mouth perform the task. The longer I keep my eyes closed and the firmer he holds me the more the spinning sensation subsides and sleepiness takes over. As I drift off to sleep it occurs to me that he didn’t ask for my address, but maybe Amanda told him when she left.

  Sweatsuits

  Oh my god do I have a raging headache. My mouth is so dry and my eyes are crusty. I feel like death. No scratch that I feel like a bag of smashed assholes. Why are the curtains open, is Amanda trying to kill me? I squint through the blinding light towards the offending open curtains. Shit! Where the fuck am I? I jackknife up. Wrong move. I can feel myself pale and my stomach churns. I quickly collapse back onto the fluffy down pillows and squeeze my eyes shut. It’s chilly. Why am I cold? Chancing another vomit attack I open my eyes and peer down at myself. I’m wearing a tee shirt. A plain white men's tee shirt. No. No. No! I reach under the blanket and feel. No underpants. What the hell is going on? As if on cue the bedroom door opens and the Devil himself appears disguised as a sexy as sin beefcake.

  “Clara. Glad to see you’re awake.” The devil says. My mind goes into overdrive trying to piece together what happened last night. I don’t remember anything after stepping outside The Harp. “RAPE!” I scream in full on panic. The devil smirks and sits on the end of the bed as I tightly wrap the blankets up around my neck and tremble.

  “I’d prefer it if you didn’t scream that.” He says dryly.

  “Wh..what the HELL is going on?” I stutter.

  “You fell asleep. I didn’t know where you lived so I brought you here to sleep it off.” He explains calmly.

  “Why, then, do I not have any UNDERWEAR on!?” My voice is unusually high and hurts my eardrums. Guilt flashes across Dominic’s face but quickly morphs into a grin before answering. “I changed you. I thought perhaps, you’d be more comfortable in my tee shirt.”

  “Perhaps you should have checked with me...PERHAPS you should have woken me up and asked for my address! PERHAPS YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT MY CLOTHES ON!” All right, I’m in full on freak out mode here. I need to collect myself before I strangle this man and have to take Allie and Sawyer on the lam with me. I’m not usually so easily riled but this guy seems to bring out the worst in me.

  “Perhaps, you should calm down.” He snickers. It’s official. He’s a douche and I loathe him. Just get out of her Clara.

  “Where are my clothes?” I clip.

  “There on the chair.” He nods at the chair in the corner where my clothes lay folded and places a hand on my ankle.

  “Out!” I bark. He shakes his head as he stands. Before shutting the door behind him he calls out quietly, “You have an amazing body Clara.” The door latches and I vomit in my mouth a little bit before stumbling from the bed with the blanket still wrapped around me. I know I have a tee shirt on but I feel like I’ve been violated. Scooping up my clothes I hold them and the blanket to me precariously as I fumble with another door in the room, hoping it leads to a bathroom. The room is immaculate. King sized four poster bed, which I’ll admit, was comfortable. The carpet is a deep gray and plush. Everything in the room is done in various shades of cream and white. It screams money and luxury. I stumble over the end of the blanket into the bathroom and have to pick my jaw up off the floor.

  This is the kind of bathroom every woman on the planet dreams of. A toilet is separated from the rest of the bath by a half wall, there’s a large marble double sink and the most luxurious looking deep claw foot bath tub next to the glass tiled shower with three, I repeat three, shower heads. An unopened toothbrush and toothpaste sit on the counter next to a blow dryer and brush and the shower is stocked with Fekkai shampoo and conditioner and Creed Spring Flowers Body Wash. That makes the toiletries total well over a hundred dollars. Nothing compared to my Dove collection at home. What the hell, I might as well enjoy it all while I’m here. I turn the shower on as hot as I can stand it before stepping in and relishing the spray from the various shower heads. It’s heavenly. I can feel the tension being beaten out of me with every well placed spray of water. I wash my hair twice, the shampoo smells delicious, before moving on to the conditioner. Once I’ve completed all my washing duties I realize that I’ve probably spent a ridiculously long time in the shower-uninterrupted- something else that never happens at home, shut the water off and hop out.

  Tagging the robe on the door I notice that it’s a cashmere robe. Who buys a cashmere robe-for guests no less! I tie it securely, brush my teeth and hair and exit the bathroom. I really don’t want to put on my dress, dirty undergarments and boots back on so I snoop around the drawers of the dresser in the room until I find a Princeton sweatshirt and matching sweat pants. Figures, Princeton, Oh My, Aren’t we just too cool. They are huge on me, I have to roll the waist of the sweatpants and draw the strings tight to keep them up. Tugging on my cowboy boots I realize I look like a strange combination of a hobo and a cowgirl but I really don't care, I’m comfortable. I hang the robe on the hook in the bathroom, grab my dress and undergarments and exit the bedroom. The hallway or corridor more likely due to the size of it screams wealth and power. Artwork, not prints, art, hangs on display as I wander down until I come to the living room. Maybe it’s a sitting room, I don’t really know and I sure as shit don't care. Everything but the bathroom is ostentatious.

  “Hello Clara.” Dominic smiles, uncrosses his long legs and sets his paper aside.

  “Uh. Morning.” I stammer.

  “Would you like something to eat? Coffee perhaps?” He offers.

  “Not really. I have brunch plans.” I bite out.

  “At one?” He questions.

  “ONE?! Crap! Why didn’t you wake me up? Amanda and Marg are probably freaking out right now.” I argue. Why am I arguing. Just get out of here Clara.

  “No worries, I
responded to their texts for you this morning.” He says triumphantly.

  “You what? Where is my phone? My purse?” My heart rate has spiked through the roof.

  “It was ringing and ringing. You needed the sleep.” He explains as if he did me a favor.

  “Give me my shit now. I’m leaving.” I say through clenched teeth.

  “In that?” He gestures to my outfit.

  “I will mail it back to you.”

  “I didn’t mean that, I meant you’re going out in public dressed like that?” His tone of disdain is really starting to irk me.

  “Yes. I am and I will return the sweat suit to you-not that you probably ever wear it.” I say flatly. He stands and stalks over to me stopping just inches from my body. He’s in khakis and a crisp white button up shirt. The sleeves are unbuttoned and rolled to his elbows. I have to tilt my head up to keep his gaze. Everything about him screams alpha male.

  “Well then.” He breathes. “Let’s get your things.” Why does this man smell so delicious and why does he make my blood boil?

  “Yes, lets.” I clip. His hand snakes around my waist landing at the small of my back as he ushers me in the right direction. I like the feel of it.

  “I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant such hostility Ms. Lord. You’re quite the curious creature.” He chuckles and I bristle.

  “You think that just because you have money you’re entitled. I’ve endured that type of man before and it honestly is quite the turn off if you must know.” I can’t believe that much honesty just shot out of my mouth. He pauses mid step to peer down at me.

  “Endured eh? Interesting choice of words. You have no interest in money?” He asks curiously. I chose to ignore the endured portion of his comment, I don't owe him an explanation.

  “Not the kind of money you have. Of course I’m interested in money, in being financially secure and not living paycheck to paycheck but beyond that no-I have no interest in it or the people that come with it.” I fire back.