Lord, this was not going to be easy.
I choose a room and began to unpack. I didn't bring much, I was only there one night.
My cell phone pinged, a text from Aleksander. Driver on his way to get you. Be downstairs in ten minutes. Dress casual. I took a shower that morning and all I had done was sit in the car, so there was no need to change. I was wearing a nice cotton blouse with skinny capri jeans and flats. If I was going to be walking around all afternoon in a convention center, I wasn't putting on heels.
I grabbed my tablet. I was there to work, after all, and headed downstairs to wait for the driver.
Aleksander was waiting for me when the driver arrived. "I don't want you to get lost," he disclosed as he took me by the hand and lead me into the building that was crammed with displays and booths and wall to wall people.
It was the first time we had made any real physical contact since that day in my house. As quickly as it happened, I pulled my hand from his as if I had been burned by his touch. I saw his face flinch and his jaw tighten.
"Let me make this clear. You stay as close to me as possible, and if we get separated you go to the nearest security guard and tell them you need to find the Van de Graaf room. Got it?"
"Got it," I sheepishly replied. I felt slightly foolish for being so afraid of touching this man. He was my boss and I needed to get my head in the game and take control of myself.
No one had exaggerated the energy and excitement that came with being at your first shoe convention. There were so many vendors with great lines and products. There were leather manufacturers explaining the tanning and coloring process. There were demonstrations on why two size seven shoes may not fit the same.
It was too much for me to take in. I was happy I had brought my tablet. The exhibitors had no problem with me taking videos of some of the processes. I would video the ones I found fascinating and could watch them later tonight in my room. It would give me an excuse to hide in there and away from Aleksander.
As the three of us arrived at our suite that evening, I said, "I'm exhausted, but in a good way. Does that make sense?"
"Perfect sense," Richard replied as he threw his briefcase into one of the massive armchairs strewn throughout the living room.
Aleksander preferred to place his on the kitchen table as if he were ready to begin working but instead took off his shoes, jacket and stretched his long lean body on the oversized couch. This was definitely my cue to head to my room.
"Anyone hungry?" Richard asked.
"I could eat," Aleksander said. "Haley?"
"Something to eat would be nice," I answered. "It's been a long day and I haven't eaten since this morning."
"Great, you two order room service. I didn't make any reservations in the dining room and with the convention going on, I doubt there will be any seating this evening." He then proceeded to the door.
"What about you?" Aleksander piped in without hesitation.
"I have other plans," Richard revealed, glaring at Aleksander.
"What other plans?" I challenged. In my head all I could think of was oh god do not leave me alone here with him.
"There's this place I like to go to unwind when I am in the city. Private, no paparazzi," Richard smirked.
I was not interested in being left in the scenario I had been avoiding for too long. It was one thing to be alone in an office with hundreds of people just outside the door, or The Boutique where we were never really ever alone, but this… this was alone with a capital A.
"Can I come?" I blurted out, but didn't stop there. "I've never been to New York and I only have one night here. It would be a shame for me to waste it cooped up in this room." I finally stopped and took a breath.
"I'm game," Aleksander chimed in.
Richard gave Aleksander a sideward glare. "Aleksander, you know this is probably not Haley's scene." In a condescending manner he looked at me and said pointedly, “I think it's best you pass, Haley."
Aleksander gave Richard the most sheepish grin and in a tormented tone said, "I think we should show Haley the city, Rick."
A look passed between the two men.
I was not sure what I had just agreed to but it couldn't be worse than sitting here alone in this suite with Aleksander.
"Let's go," Richard announced as he held the door.
"Sorry about the tight fit," Richard snickered as I got sandwiched between both men, "New York cabbies don't let anyone sit in front for safety reasons."
"Why are we taking a cab? We've been using a driver all day." I was not sure I wanted to know the answer.
Aleksander laughed. "Not where we are going. No respectable driver would agree to take us to that part of the city."
I wondered that perhaps there were things worse than being alone in the suite with Aleksander after all.
Chapter 21
Haley
We were dropped off at a unlit dingy back alley covered in graffiti, broken beer bottles and the stretch of over-ripe garbage. Richard made a call and banged on the big steel door three times, like a code. As we entered, my first reaction was they had taken me to a crack house. Not that I had ever been in one but I saw them in movies and tv shows. I saw a light at the end of the hallway coming from under one of the doors.
"Is that we are going?" I said, my voice quivering.
"Not that one." We turned a corner and Richard pointed, "This one."
"The one marked restroom?!" I practically screamed. What had I gotten myself into? What were they going to do to me? Had I misjudged these men from the start?
Was that their plan, get me here in some junkies den, snort up and take advantage of me? Was that the type of woman they thought I was?
Not Richard with his stoic quiet demeanour. But Aleksander — I had thrown myself at him once already while he flaunted his good looks and ample charm. Why wouldn't he think that? He knew I read the book. He knew I was aware of his sexual encounters.
I paused and started to retreat, backing into Aleksander. "I'm not going in there."
Aleksander bent over. Could he sense my fear? " It’s okay, Haley, it's not what you're thinking." His husky voice, low, seductive, spiralled me into panic mode.
How would he know what I was thinking? How could I have been so naive? Did they do they often? Did women follow them willingly to this… this… Before I could finish my thought, Richard opened the door to reveal a bar.
I started breathing normally again. It was definitely a bar, but nothing like the fancy nightclub I would expect a refined man like Richard to appear at. It was rough looking but I had seen worse.
"Like I said," Richard reminded me in a snarky tone, "someplace with no paparazzi, someplace you can let go and have fun and not have your picture all over the next tabloid. It's in this part of town for a reason. Celebrities and rock stars hang here as well." Then his face lit up. "Plus they have an awesome open mic night."
Richard took off his jacket, tossed it to Aleksander and headed to the bar.
Aleksander found us the only table whose legs were not being kept stable with a playing card. The floor was sticky and it smelled of cigarettes and stale beer. Again, not the worst place I had let Brad take me, showing me off when I was the trophy wife.
Richard returned with two beers and a fancy drink that looked like Kool-Aid.
"I asked the bartender to mix you up something virgin. I told her you were a lightweight. I also took the liberty of ordering burgers and fries. I hope that's okay?"
"So this is where the rich and famous go to relax?" I snarked. "What exactly do you to unwind?"
A commotion at the entrance caught my attention. I wasn't sure what to expect. So far I witnessed bikers, businessmen, and a B movie actor. I almost gave myself whiplash doing a double take.
I grabbed Aleksander arm; in stumbled Bad-Dog of the rock band Get Bet , behind him his very distinguishable brother, Mad Dog. Oh the fantasies I’d had about those brothers. Strutting not far behind was Adam D, the lead singer. The only
member not in attendance was T-Bent. Their hot as hades drummer.
"Are you freaking telling me actual rock stars like Get Bent come here to wind down?"
"Oh no," Aleksander notified me. "Those guys, they don't come here to wind down, they come here to party. And not to be gawked at, so close your mouth, Haley."
I begrudgingly obliged, not sure what to say next. I continued to stare.
"Are you actually fan-girling right now?" Aleksander mocked me but in a suspiciously jealous tone.
"No I'm not fan-girling, it's just I've never been this close to anyone famous before and how would you know what fan- girling looks like,” I couldn’t help but giggle. The bad boys from Get Bent were a mere a few feet from where I was sitting. Of course I was fan-girling.
"First, I have two sisters. I know exactly what fan-girling looks like and second, I'm famous and you know me."
Bad Dog, the bassist for Get Bent, walked towards us and slapped Richard on the back. "Richie's in the building, must be open mic night," he announced with the most depraved laugh.
"You know these guys?" I asked with wide eyes and mouth opened.
It was Aleksander's turn to poke fun at his old friend. “Sort of. Richie here likes to perform at open mic nights and for some reason these guys always seem to end up here on the same night."
"But they know who he is," I babbled.
Both men did this mental-telepathy-man-code thing that Brad and his buddies used to do that drove me crazy. Looking at them suspiciously, I faced Aleksander.
"I know there's a story here, spill."
"You know when someone is so rich they say you are Richie Rich rich. Well Richard here is Richie Rich rich. All you have to do is get Richie all liquored up and let him go. That's why he comes here — no paparazzi, remember. There's a few places like this in certain cities, LA, Toronto, but you have to be in the know to know where they are."
I shook my head and thought about what Aleksander was saying. "You mean they call him Richie after Richie Rich, not because his name is Richard?"
Then it hit me. "Do they even know your name is Richard?" I faced him, my mouth gaping.
The look on the two men's faces told me everything without one word. I bit my bottom lip to avoid embarrassing myself because I knew if I began to laugh I would never stop.
Richard eyed me. "Haley, don't even," he wagged his finger at me.
I clamped my hand over my mouth, but my eyes started watering, my cheeks puffed out and I was most unladylike snorting through my nose. No longer able to control myself, I let it go.
My laugh resonated through the bar and I was drawing attention to myself and I didn't care.
Richard scowled, “we went to school with the band’s drummer, Theo. Before he became T-Bent. We were never formally introduced to the band.”
“Oh my god, this is hilarious. You know the drummer but you have never met the band. They call you Richie and have no idea you name is Richard.” I was having trouble containing my amusement. “Nobody bothered to tell them?”
Before Richard could respond, Amy, the waitress, showed up with our food and fifteen shooters.
"How drunk does Richard need to be before we get to hear him sing?" I asked as I stared at the drinks on the tray.
"Oh honey, they're not all for him," Amy commented as she placed five glasses in front of each of us. "They're from him," she pointed as Mad-Dog waved and walked over to our table.
"I figured you for a first timer.” He crouched down beside my ear and twirled a lock of my hair in his fingers. I giggled at knowing a rock star touched my hair. He seemed amused. “As a first timer you have to play never have I ever."
"Never have I ever, the drinking game?" I interrupted.
He rasped in my ear in that famous low seductive growl that had women dropping their panties for him. “The one and only,” he confirmed. He tucked the stray strand behind my ear, got up and walked away. God that man's butt in tight leather pants, and guyliner, swoon. Wait, I don't swoon. Except for him, I would definitely swoon.
"I'm not a drinker," I confessed with a long sigh, "but a rock god bought me shooters and expects me to play a drinking game in a dive bar in New York." I added, "Hell, why not, who goes first?"
Aleksander cheered. "I'll go first.” He tapped his fingers against his lips as if he were trying to think of something that I would lose. “ Never have I ever, joined the mile high club."
Richard took a drink.
I stared at Aleksander. "Never? You own a private jet,” I bluntly accused.
"My father owns a private jet, so no, never." Aleksander almost sounded hurt by my inquisition then turned and faced Richard. "You're next."
"Never have I ever, had sex with an ex." Again Richard was the only one who took a drink, then he pushed his second empty glass to the middle of the table.
"You know you're supposed to use acts you haven't done so we have to take a drink, right" Aleksander explained to him.
"So? I'm losing, not winning," Richard grinned. "Let me try that again, never had I ever, been slapped across the face by an ex," Richard downed another shot then announced to me, "you're up."
I needed to be careful; there were some questions I might not want the answers to. But there was one I was curious about. Would he admit to it if it were true? "Never have I ever, had a threesome."
Richard took a shot, but not Aleksander.
"My turn," Aleksander snidely.
Aleksander's tone disturbed me. He knew why I asked that last one; I knew he must have.
"Never had I ever, made out under the bleachers."
Richard took his last shot. I took my first.
Richard's eyebrows raised.
"I was a cheerleader and Brad was a football player. Cliche, I know, but yes we made out under the bleachers." I felt the need to explain myself. I suspected Aleksander figured this would be the one that would nail me.
As if he had just woken up, Richard shook his head and blurred out, "Brad… Bristol, Tranquility’s Falcons, Brad Bristol." Then he pursued me up and down like he had never seen me before and announced to the entire bar, "You're a bookend."
"Shh, keep it down," I smacked him on the arm. "That was a long time ago, another me, a bleached blonde with blue contacts me. I'm not that cheerleader anymore."
Aleksander was also scanning my body as if looking for traces of that person. It made me uncomfortable.
"I remember taking in a game with Richard once. Were you one of the twins?"
"We weren't twins. We just looked alike because of the hair and contacts, that's all."
Richard must have been drunker than any of us imagined because he blurted, "do you know how many teenage boys whacked off to that school calendar you guys sold?"
Realizing what he had said, Richard pushed his empty glasses to the centre and proclaimed, "I think it's time I sang, what do you think?" and walked away from the table. It was definitely a diversion because he plopped himself in a bar stool and began chatting up a pretty blonde.
"Looks like you gave him a hankering for a blonde," Aleksander drawled.
"Stop that." I blushed and pushed a drink his way. "My turn."
How far did I want to push it? Should I play it safe, or did I really want those questions answered? How far was he willing to push it to dig out my secrets?
"Never have I ever, did a dine and dash." No one took a drink.
"Playing safe now are we," he accused with an impish grin. "Okay, never have I ever lied to protect a cheating friend."
Neither of us took a drink.
"Let's see," I said, biting my bottom lip. Nervousness was setting in. "Never had I ever, had sex in a friend's bed."
Aleksander took his first drink.
I was very careful not to make any expression or request an explanation.
"Double up on this one," he dared. "Never have I ever, fantasized about anyone in this room."
What was he trying to pull? And did he forget there were famous rock stars pa
rtying in the corner.
"Be honest, Haley, you're blushing," he teased.
I glanced towards the bar. Where was Richard? He was supposed to be my buffer. Turning back to face Aleksander, I toss back the first shot, then drain the second.
I watched as Aleksander picked up his first, then his second. He had that possessive glare I saw at The Boutique not that long ago.
"I know that look," I accused. "I knew you had a bromance thing with Richard," I teased, trying to keep the mood light. “I totally understand, he's a very good looking man." I looked Richards way. "You know we’re playing this his way now?"
"Let's finish this off with another double, "Aleksander cut in. "Never have I ever cried to get out of a speeding ticket."
I lifted my first then my second, making a sour face at the last one. I then noticed that Aleksander slowly lift the first drink to his lips, downed it, then finished off the second.
He shrugged. "I said I was on my way to the vet because my dog got hit by a car and was dying. The female officer even offered to give me a police escort. I told her it was okay, that I needed a moment to clear my eyes before I continued driving. Fake tears of course, but still tears."
"I told the officer through my sobs," then I began to mimic my conversation, "'I knew that speed thingy wasn't working. I told my husband, but he said it was fine, he's a mechanic, he should know,' and the cop bought it hook, line and sinker." I disappointedly proclaimed.
"It was during my bleach blonde days. I used to get treated differently. Even at work, I was overlooked for promotions even though I worked harder than any of the other candidates. When I decided to let my hair go natural everyone treated me… well, they no longer treated me like a dumb blonde. Even one of my supervisors stopped flirting with me, borderline sexual harassment. Just enough that I had no ground to go to human resources. People treat you differently when they think you don't have a brain and I was appalled at how often that happened when I was a blonde. I think I had enough to drink. I'm getting sappy, can we go now?" I solemnly asked.
Aleksander went over to Richard then returned. "It's just the two of us," he declared. "Like I said, you gave Richard a hankering for a blonde." HIs smirk put my back up.
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