Surrender to Love (Night Calls)

by J.C. Valentine

  Jon was not pleased. He was actually pretty irritated, but he tried to keep his emotions under wraps so he wouldn’t scare the poor thing. Already she looked like she might faint from the stress. “Why not take a few weeks off,” he suggested. “Get married, enjoy your honeymoon, and when things settle down, come back. Why quit? You said it yourself, you love working here.”

  “I do. I did.” Jenna sighed, as her head dropped down so only the rim of her sophisticated glasses were visible through the curtain of golden brown hair. “Tim is old school, you know? His parents raised him to believe that the wife should stay home with the kids, while he works to take care of them.”

  Jon didn’t like the sound of this, and he let her know it. “This is the twenty-first century, Jenna. Women work to help contribute to the household, too. Why go through years of school and training to get where you are today only to give it all up?”

  The thin line of her lips and downcast eyes let him know he was getting to her, but whether it was a good or bad thing, he couldn’t be certain. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Bradshaw, but I’m getting married and I respect my husband’s wishes. I’m sorry you find that difficult to understand, but it is what it is.”

  Jon watched her silently for a moment longer, meeting her eyes dead on. No, he didn’t understand it, nor did he ever want to. He was raised in a home where his mother and father both held jobs and pursued their dreams outside of the house and family, with the notion that a person needed to fulfill themselves before they could be truly fulfilled in life. He had never been able to grasp the nineteen fifties housewife ideal.

  “So that’s it? You’re leaving me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With a resigned sigh, Jon stood up and extended his hand. “Well then, Ms. Houseman, congratulations on your marriage and good luck.”

  “Thank you.”

  He walked her to the door, pausing just inside of it. “If you ever need anything, just call.”

  Jenna nodded. “Okay.”

  “And I trust you can cut your own severance check without robbing me blind?”

  “That’s a pretty tall order, but I’ll try.” She smirked.

  “Good, and make it double. I don’t want people thinking they’re working for a scrooge.” He closed the door on her shocked face and plopped back down behind his desk. It sucked royal ass that Jenna was leaving. He was just boasting to his parents the other night about how well things were going for him and how much he had planned for the company’s future. Now, he was out an accountant, and a damn fine one at that. If he didn’t get another one soon, he’d be closer to living in that trailer than he’d ever imagined.

  2

  Patti finally understood the term going stir crazy, because she was one silent moment and two soap operas away from becoming completely bat shit, out of her mind, loony tunes.

  She’d finished out her week at Peterson and Wendle yesterday—a day early because she just couldn’t stand being somewhere she wasn’t wanted—and without a single idea of how to move ahead, she felt lost. She knew she needed to start looking for a job and putting in applications, but her heart just wasn’t in it. Maybe it had something to do with the shock of having her livelihood yanked out from under her, or maybe she was just having so much fun sitting at home, alone, with nothing to do but stuff her face with sugary snacks that she’d completely lost her drive to continue being a productive member of society. Okay, so it’d only been a day, and maybe she was being a tad overly dramatic, but she had loved her job. Without it to help keep her occupied, she had nothing to distract her from her memories.

  Unwrapping a fresh brownie square, Patti didn’t even bother with the pretense of nibbling. She just dove right in and had it gone in less than four bites. She’d probably put on ten pounds already, but it was difficult to tell for sure since the only thing she’d worn since stepping out of her work attire was a pair of aged sweats, and who cared? It wasn’t as if she had anyone to impress anyway.

  She was reaching for the box of half-eaten donuts when her cell phone chimed. It took two tries, but she finally managed to rock herself out of the recliner and grab the phone before it transferred to voice mail. “Hello?”

  “Is the pity party of one still on?” Jules asked in an unusually cheerful manner.

  “It’s not a pity party,” Patti said in offense. “I’m just basking in my freedom. It’s like a temporary vacation. I never took one before, remember?”

  “Only because you’re a workaholic,” Jules reminded her. “And if I had to guess, you’re probably about to crawl out of your skin with all the downtime your logging, am I right?” Patti grumbled. “Excuse me? I didn’t catch that.”

  Rolling her eyes, Patti slumped back into her chair and huffed. “I said yeah, you’re right. But what can I do about it? It’s not as if I can jump on a plane to Tahiti. I have bills to pay and no job. I need every penny in my account.”

  The whir of city traffic muffled Jules’ voice, and Patti assumed that she was probably headed to her favorite deli while on her lunch break. She used to have lunch breaks. Sometimes she even left her desk to take one, too. Never again, she thought dejectedly.

  “I never said you had to go on a vacation, but you do need to get out of the house,” Jules went on.

  “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for going out at the moment.”

  “Oh, come on. Since when are you not in the mood to go out?” Jules voice rose in disbelief. “I think one day of moping around the house is more than enough. You need to get out, take a breath of fresh air, and remember what it means to have fun. Embrace this time in your life, girl!”

  “I don’t know…” Nibbling on her lip, Patti recalled their girls’ nights, the drinks, and the laughs. The men. Then she thought of all the men she’d dated and then broken up with, which spiraled back to Kyle and what she’d walked in on earlier that week. It all left a bad taste in her mouth, and what little interest she might have had, vanished. “You guys should just go without me. I’m no good to anyone right now.”

  “That’s the depression talking,” Jules said in her no-nonsense way. “You need to get out so you can shake this thing off before it sucks you down so far we’ll need to hire a crew of naked firemen to dig you out.”

  A small smile tugged at Patti’s lips. “And they’d be naked why?”

  “Duh,” Jules said, sounding exasperated. “A group of men in uniform coming to your rescue is one thing, but a group of hot men with abs of steel charging to your rescue, their dongs slapping in the breeze? Shit, that would be enough to wake a woman from a coma.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Patti said through a fit of giggles.

  “Yeah, but you love this idiot,” Jules replied confidently. “Look, I’ve got to go, but before I do, say you’ll come out with us tonight. It’s just dinner and drinks, nothing fancy since Piper isn’t really up for it.”

  Piper was integral to their little union, implanted from Alabama a few years ago. Last year, she’d gone to work for some publishing company and ended up working for Satan himself, and then fell head over heels for him. Now she was married with a kid on the way and Patti couldn’t be happier for her. She was living the dream. One that Patti hoped to someday duplicate for herself.

  “How is she doing, by the way?” Patti asked. Last she’d seen her friend, she’d been sporting a pretty round stomach and was talking about taking some time off work to rest up before the birth.

  “She’s fine, but if you ask me, she looks like she’s ready to pop any day now. It might be the last time we get to go out together as a group,” Jules said with a hopeful note in her voice.

  “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not gonna work,” Patti said sternly.

  “Sure it is,” Jules said brightly. “And do you know how I know this?”

  Patti was afraid to ask, but she played along anyway, curious to hear her answer. “How?”

  “Because we’re coming over tonight and dragging you out of that bro
ken down chair, forcing you out of those stained-up, hole-infested sweats, and dragging you out by the hair if needed. We’ll be there by seven.”

  Jules hung up on her and Patti set the phone aside, looking down at her baggy, stained, and moth-eaten clothing, and sighed. How did she know? Had she become that predictable, or was her friend a psychic? Fearing the former to be true, Patti dragged herself from the chair and took a look around her living room. Discarded wrappers from various Hostess snacks littered nearly every surface. With the curtains drawn, it felt like a cave, and when she ran her fingers through her uncombed hair, the sheer amount of grease she felt built up there disgusted her.

  The full weight of her reality settled on her shoulders, bogging her down. Jules was right, she was depressed. And the only way she knew to fix it, was to drag herself out of the trenches and climb back on the horse, and the best way to start down that road was with a shower.

  ***

  “Someone, get me a double vodka neat, stat.” Patti dropped her purse under the table and plopped down in one of the empty chairs.

  Jules volunteered, taking orders for everyone at the table. “Don’t start without me!” she shouted over the music as she bounced off to the bar. She’d lied earlier about bringing the gang out for an intervention. It ended up being just her, but her forceful, take no prisoners attitude more than made up for it, and she had Patti primed and ready to go in under an hour.

  Now, Patti looked around the table at the familiar faces of her friends. To her right sat Sheila, then Lynn, and then Piper. Beside Piper sat an unfamiliar face. The woman appeared small, like herself, with vibrant red hair twisted high on top of her head; however, she was a complete stranger to her.

  Patti glanced around the table at her girls, making eye contact with each one briefly in askance.

  “Oh, right,” Sheila said, perking up. She pointed her fluorescent green nail mere inches from the strange woman’s face. “That’s Piper’s friend, Poppy. Poppy works for Piper’s boss, Felix, who she is also screwing.”

  “Sheila!” Piper scolded. An laugh of embarrassment bubbled from her lips. “What did we talk about?”

  Sheila huffed and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I forgot.” With raised eyebrows, she turned back to Patti. “They’re ‘making love’ because they’re in love,” she said, making air quotes.

  Patti turned her head to Piper and hitched her thumb over her shoulder at Sheila. “Is she drunk?”

  “Good Lord is she ever,” Piper said dramatically. “She and Tom got into an argument or something, so apparently she’s made it her personal mission to drink her weight in liquor.”

  “And what about you?” Patti asked, staring pointedly at her protruding belly. “You’d better not be drinking too, or I’ll personally kick your ass.”

  Piper held up her hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just here for moral support. If I so much as thought about taking a drink, Tate would bend me over his knee and whip my ass red.”

  “Hey now! Save it for the bedroom!” Lynn cried, covering her ears. “Nobody wants to hear about the kinky crap you’re into.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Sheila said with a mischievous laugh. “I could use a little more kink in my life.”

  “Who’s kinky? What did I miss?” Jules dipped back into her chair and slid Patti her double shot.

  “Piper likes to get spanked,” Sheila divulged.

  “I do not!” Piper’s face turned crimson.

  Patti gulped her drink, tuning out their conversation. The club was packed. It was also loud. She longed for the comfort of her cozy recliner and baggy clothes. Not that she didn’t enjoy her time with her friends, but it felt like too much stimulation too soon. Trying to shrug herself from her quickly spiraling thoughts, she turned to face the woman seated to her left.

  “So, what’s your story?” she asked, tipping her head at the new girl, Poppy, she thought her name was.

  Poppy smiled shyly and glanced at Piper as if asking her permission. “Go ahead and tell them,” Piper encouraged her. “We’re all friends here. It’s safe,” she said with laughter in her eyes.

  Poppy shifted under the weight of half a dozen sets of eyes resting on her, and cleared her throat. “My boyfriend wants me to sell my house and come live with him in the city.”

  Sheila jolted back in her seat, covering her mouth to silence her gasp of mocked outrage. “That scumbag! Asking you to move in with him. Just who does he think he is?”

  Poppy frowned.

  “Knock it off, spaz,” Jules warned her. “You’re getting belligerent and if you can’t collect your shit, I’m calling in reinforcements.” She raised her hand, calling over a member of the wait staff, and ordered a bottle of water.

  “You’re cutting me off?” Sheila whined, pressing her hand to her chest.

  “Yep,” Jules said, and then turned her attention to Poppy. “Sorry about the drunk and disorderly over here. She’s having issues. You were saying?”

  “Uhhh…”

  Piper took pity on her and filled everyone in on what was happening. “Poppy bought her house after her divorce, but she’s been dating Felix for a while now, and since she spends most of her time at his place, he thinks it makes more sense for her to move in with him than pay a mortgage for a house she barely spends any time in.”

  “That makes sense,” Jules said with a nod.

  “Yeah, but it’s not like he’s proposing marriage,” Patti pointed out.

  Piper snapped her fingers. “Exactly. What if Poppy sells her house and moves in with him, and then he rolls out of bed one day and decides it just isn’t working out? Then she’s out on her ass without a house to fall back on.”

  “While that’s true,” Lynn piped up, “if you love the guy, you have to be willing to take a risk.”

  Poppy fiddled with her glass. “I know. It’s just hard to leave things up to chance when you don’t know what lies ahead.”

  “Unless it’s a financial strain, why not keep it as a vacation home?” Patti suggested. “You could use it to get away on the weekends. Heck, you could even rent it out to your friends,” she said, spanning her arms open wide. “We could all use a little retreat from the city now and then.”

  “That is a really great idea,” Poppy said. “I think I’ll mention that to Felix and see what he thinks about it.” She smiled widely. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Patti held up her hand, summoning another waiter. “Now that that’s all sorted out, let’s get wasted!”

  3

  Jon stepped into Carnal with a blonde on one arm and a brunette on the other. Stepping in beside them, his best friend and wingman, Travis, motioned to the dance floor, and then melted into the throng with his own date.

  Music vibrated through his body as Jon carved a path through the crowd toward an empty table in the back. He seated the women, and then squatted down between them, motioning them closer so he could speak without shouting. “What can I get you ladies to drink?”

  “Grey Goose,” the blonde told him, smiling demurely with lips so thick and glossy they screamed sin.

  “Martini, dirty.” The brunette seated to his left wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled his face to hers. Their mouths meshed, and she slipped her tongue inside his, wasting no time letting him know where she expected this night to end.

  Jon pulled back with a lazy grin and wiped the excess moisture from his lips with his fingertips. “That’s an order I have no problem filling. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Don’t worry, baby,” the brunette cooed. “The only place we’re going tonight is down.” Her gaze shifted to his crotch and Jon laughed, amused.

  “Promises, promises. I’m going to hold you to that,” he swore.

  Striding up to the bar, Jon found a sliver of space and positioned himself there, raising his hand to call the bartender’s attention.

  While he waited, he took stock of the place. The downtown club was buzzing with energy. Colored lighting flashed intermittently o
ver the oblong dance floor. Loud music from every direction pulsed in his ears. There were half-naked bodies everywhere, dancing, groping, and draping themselves over the bar. It was a veritable cesspool of debauchery, and he loved every bit of it.

  The bartender was finally making his way over when the seat beside him opened up and a warm, lithe body slid in alongside him.

  Jon couldn’t help but appreciate the view. Long, pale hair flowed down to a curvaceous backside and lean, tone legs clad in a pair of tight, white jeans dangled from the stool she perched on. From the back, she was enough to stir him to life. He wondered what effect she would have on him head-on.

  When the bartender approached his end of the bar and looked to him first, Jon shook his head and tilted it toward the blonde beside him. “Take care of her first. I’ll wait.”

  The bartender nodded, uncaring of who went first, and shifted his attention to her. Turning on her seat, the friendly smile she wore turned shy when she looked up and met his eyes.

  How cute. “Hi,” he said, deliberately dropping his voice lower.

  “Hi.” She smiled demurely, her long lashes touching her cheeks when she dropped her gaze.

  “What are you having?” Jon asked, using the volume of the music as an excuse to slide in a little closer. He rested one arm on the polished counter and leaned into it, smiling down at her as her mind worked to keep up. He gestured to the man waiting for them expectantly.

  Her cheeks colored and she cleared her throat. “Give me two rum and cokes, a long island and Sam Adams,” she called out to the bartender who was waiting patiently for their order.

  While he hurried off to fill it, Jon took the opportunity to fix her with a wide smile. “You look nice tonight,” he told her, allowing his eyes to make a slow perusal down her lush body. Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep his eyes from making a second pass over her chest where her breasts were on full display beneath the simple black tank top.