Marbella Nights

by Camille Oster

  “Because I know what happened, I feel bad for you. So I will give you a chance, but you are on a short leash. Screw around, being late, taking too many breaks, you’re out.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she smiled. “And I’m reliable.”

  Jesus looked her over again as if saying he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Trish will get you a costume. Anything you need, ask her.” His attention turned to his desk and Adelaide was dismissed. “Start tomorrow night.”

  “I won’t let you down,” she said as she headed for the door. She had a job, which was good, because her money was really running low, and the situation at the house was growing tense.

  Adelaide headed out of the club feeling much lighter than when she went in. Trish was sitting on wall outside, her heels mindlessly beating on the wall. “How’d it go?”

  “I start tomorrow. He made it sound like I’m on probation or something.”

  “I guess you kind of are. He’s had a lot of trouble with Chrissy, so I think he’s a bit wary.”

  “What’s up with her?”

  Trish shrugged. “Well, I’m not covering for her any more. Wanna grab a coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  They walked down the street, past the closed restaurants of the entertainment district, continuing a few streets back where the cheaper, more local restaurants were. They sat on cheap plastic chairs and a table burned by cigarettes more than once.

  “So how was the party in the hills?” Trish asked, pouring a sugar packet into the coffee a surly waiter had brought out for them.

  “It was weird. The entire night was weird.”

  “What about Quentin?”

  Adelaide leaned her head on her palm. “I think he really likes me. He introduced me as his girlfriend to all these people.”

  Trish’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a bit sudden. You’re not into it?”

  Crossing her arms, Adelaide looked down the street. “I mean I am, but I just don’t get why? Why does he like me? I would get hanging out a bit, but girlfriend?”

  “Maybe he just likes you.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” she shrugged. “It’s like I’m waiting for the joke to be up. Me with Quentin Cartright. In what world does that happen?”

  “I think you’re totally underselling yourself.”

  “I’m not selling anything.”

  “And maybe that’s the point—why he likes you.”

  “I’m just taking it one day at a time.”

  “Meanwhile, he’s planning your wedding.”

  Adelaide almost shivered at the thought. Least of all having to stand in front of all those people, who all judged her as some piece of trash he’d picked up. She didn’t voice these things, but they were on her mind. Her thoughts turned to Quentin and softened, remembering what he looked like first thing in the morning, still sleepy and warm, and so unbelievably cute. It was just too good to be true, and that was the problem. It was too easy, and anything too easy was a front for something else.

  “But now you have a job and you’re back on track. And we’ll be working together,” Trish said brightly. “It’s going to be so much fun.”

  The thought cheered Adelaide up, even though she was quite nervous about dancing in front of a thousand strangers.

  Adelaide’s knees literally shook as she stepped up on the podium. She was dressed in these shorts and crop top. It wasn’t indecent, but they weren’t clothes she’d ever choose to wear on her own. But she was a dancer now and she was going to give it everything she had. Trish had advised her all day, that she needed to pace herself, take a few minutes of low cardio moves to recover. Hair swinging was particularly helpful in this regard.

  How the hell was she going to get through hours of dancing? She didn’t have Trish’s stamina, imagining herself passed out on the podium by the end of the night.

  Taking a deep breath, she started dancing, giving herself over to the music. Before long, she actually enjoyed it, having to accentuate her moves beyond her normal dancing style. At one point, she felt Jesus watching her, which made her nervous all over again.

  This was her new job, to communicate an image of fun and energy—the aspirational goal, which was ridiculous. How was she anyone’s aspiration? It was like someone had given her a cool card and now she was one of the cool people, dating Quentin Cartright and the image the hottest club in Marbella wanted to convey. It was absurd, but then who was she to complain? Of things to worry about, being perceived as cool was probably a small problem in the scheme of things, even if the assignation felt a little off.

  Chapter 40

  Alice Cavendish approached looking good in a navy striped shirt and white capri pants and a sleek pony tail. She was still an incredibly attractive woman, and one of the sweetest ladies in this club. Cory looked around to see if they were being observed.

  “Hi, Cory,” she said with a smile, her lips a muted coral colour, looking up at him with her bright green eyes. “Now, I want you to come by my house when you are through here. There is something I wish to give you.”

  For a minute he wasn’t sure if she was making a sexual reference. She didn’t normally talk filthy in any regard, so he suspected not.

  “You will come, won’t you? It would mean a lot to me.”

  “Of course,” he said. He just couldn’t say no to Alice. She as so vulnerable and he knew what she sought from him meant more than just a quick fuck when no one was looking—not that he was necessarily opposed to that. He would be lying if he said there hadn’t been some hot times in the women’s showers of the quick and nasty variety—not with Alice though. He was gentle with Alice.

  “Good,” she smiled. “I’ll see you then.” She looked back at him when she walked away, and he kept looking. On one level, he felt like he was taking advantage of Alice. They were so not on the same playing field, but she needed someone who plain wanted her through this difficult period, and he wanted to help her.

  Saying that, he didn’t quite know what she had in mind, but he wouldn’t know until he went. He had planned on spending some hours in the gym, but he could can that. There were other ways of getting a workout, he smiled.

  Cory rode his motorbike up the Cavendish’s long driveway. Mr. Cavendish was no longer in residence and word was that he’d retreated back to the UK with his new girlfriend, who was apparently pregnant.

  Alice walked out the door when he pulled up, kicking the stand down and swinging his leg off. He took off his helmet and hung it on the handle bar.

  The house was huge and with large glass doors covered by decorative grills in flower motifs.

  “I’m so glad you came,” she said, holding a drink out for him. Nerves tumbled in his gut. He had the feeling that there was more to it than just a quick drop by. “I thought you might be hungry, so I prepared some food.”

  Cory could always eat. “That was very thoughtful.”

  “But before we go in,” she said, taking his hands. “As you know, I have had a very tough few months and you have been there for me. You’re such a lovely man,” she said, her eyes sparkling. Okay, this was going somewhere, he knew, the nerves making his gut tighten more. “So I wanted you to know how much I’ve appreciated what you’ve done for me.” Was she … breaking up with him? Really, there was no need.

  She let go of his hand and brought a small clicker out of her hand, pressing a button. “So I got something for you.” The garage doors started to trundle open, revealing a sleek dark maroon car. A new Toyota Celica. He stared at it for a moment, not getting what she was doing.

  The car, his mind screamed. “Are you giving me a car?” He was going to sound stupid of she was thinking something else, like taking him for a ride down the coast to a restaurant or something.

  “I know you don’t have one,” she said, teasing a finger down over his abs.

  His attention turned back to her. “I can’t accept a car. It’s too much.” It’s a fucking car, his mind screamed. This lady is giving him a fucking car. On some level, it was amazin
g.

  “Nonsense. I mean it’s not the most high-end car out there, but a good reliable car through.”

  “It’s still a car. I can’t accept a car.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d just said that.

  Alice looked hurt.

  “I mean, it’s such a huge gift,” he backtracked. “I wasn’t, you know, … with you so you would give me stuff.”

  “I know that. But you were there for me, and I have more money now than I know what to do with and I wanted to share it with someone who was special to me.” Apparently the divorce had been quite expedient, he thought. Although the ‘special to me’ statement sent sheer panic through him, hoping she wasn’t reading more into this than was really there. “And I really wanted to do something for you.”

  Cory was in a bit of a bind. On one level, he felt like a cock accepting a gift like this from her, from a woman he was intermittently fucking in some twisted attempt at community service. But this kind of made him feel a bit like a whore, even as she looked so earnest and sweet. Maybe it was just Trish’s accusation when they’d last spoken, reverberating through his mind, tainting what was really awesome. It was true, there had been absolutely no expectations on his part for a gesture like this. “Wow, that’s the biggest gift anyone has ever given me.” Part of him didn’t really want it. Alright, he wanted a car, but he didn’t want to be given it as a ‘hey, lovely fuck’ gift.

  “Do you like it?” she smiled.

  “It’s gorgeous.” The Celica had a sporty look, obviously how Alice saw him. “Wow,” he repeated. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Come have some dinner,” she said, tugging on his hand. He followed a little reluctantly, knowing he kind of had to sleep with her now, which he didn’t have to do before, instead had wanted to. Now he felt bought, but he knew Alice’s intentions hadn’t been so. She had meant it as a gesture of respect and returned appreciation. He knew this, but he still felt cheapened by it.

  “Nice house,” he said as he walked into the main living area, decorated in peach and more peach. It looked like a soft place. He smiled when Alice looked back at him, her green eyes clear and excited as she handed him a glass of wine.

  “I decorated it myself.”

  She obviously liked peach—a lot.

  A worse thought struck his mind: maybe Alice thought they were like an item now. Surely not. Images of him parading around as Alice’s toy boy flashed through his head.

  “Do you like foie gras?” she said brightly.

  He smiled awkwardly, thinking of how he could shut this down, but now there was the big gift in play. Maybe he just had to discern what her intentions were, while thinking of some way of extricating himself without crushing Alice’s paper thin confidence. He didn’t mind fucking the ladies, but he wasn’t a toy for them. Crap. How had he gotten himself into this? The road to hell really was paved with good intentions.

  Chapter 41

  With the beach at their backs, Chrissy and Nathan sat all snuggled up across the table at José’s, and their on and off again relationship appeared to be on at the moment. Chrissy had still been resolutely bitchy all week, getting snippy at Adelaide for crashing at their place, and Trish was over it.

  It had been touch and go if she and Adelaide were going to come out tonight because of it, but in the end, they’d decided they weren’t going to be put off by Chrissy’s behaviour, and that made Chrissy so much worse, trying to hold court down at the other side of the table. Hannah and Amber were uncomfortable about the whole thing. It was just so high-school and Trish was over it.

  “Maybe it’s time we get our own place,” Trish said when Adelaide sat down, returning from the bar with two beers and handing one over to Trish.

  “I have to get a place anyway.” Adelaide looked worried, absently turning the bottle around.

  “Are you sure, because you’re spending most nights with Quentin?”

  “True, but I still feel like I need a place of my own. I appreciate you guys letting me stay and everything, but I miss having my own space. I just don’t feel settled, you know.”

  “I get it.”

  “I’ve got a job and Jesus hasn’t fired me yet, so I think it’s time I start looking for a place.”

  Trish bit her lip. On the one hand, she wanted to get a place with Adelaide, but on the other, Adelaide was hardly ever there now—off with Quentin most nights. If she got a place with Adelaide, she’d end up being alone most of the time. But then Chrissy was being such a cow—admittedly it was directed more at Adelaide than Trish herself, so Trish suspected it had to do with Quentin. Chrissy was jealous. Her bitchiness had only arisen once Adelaide started seeing Quentin.

  It used to be so nice when they all got along, but Trish wasn’t sure she could entirely forgive Chrissy for this behaviour, even if things went back to normal. It was too large a break in trust.

  The moon was rising and Trish felt tiredness and alcohol lull her. Her eyes were growing heavily and half-empty drinks stood on the table, their progress seemingly stalled.

  Hannah yawned. “I think it’s time to go,” she said. “I have work in the morning.”

  “I’ll ask José to call us a cab,” Trish said and got up. Cabs were a little luxury at the end of the night, and not so costly when spread across all of them. José sat behind the bar strumming a guitar when she approached.

  “Bella,” he said, putting on an Italian accent. He called every girl that, but Trish still smiled. José liked to make girls smile. All José wanted was everyone to chill and be happy. “What can I do for you?”

  “We need a cab, one of those Maxi Taxis.”

  “The evening is over,” he said, putting on a sad face.

  “It is.”

  “What happened to that young man I saw you with? The pretty one you looked so careful around.”

  “He took his attention elsewhere.”

  “Shame. You looked good together.”

  “Yeah, well, good looks can be deceiving.”

  José’s eyes sparkled when he looked at her. Although his face was tanned and wrinkled from years of relentless sun, his eyes were sharp and saw more than expected. “Then he is a stupid boy.”

  “I won’t argue with you,” she said and drummed the bar. “Thanks, José.”

  The others were getting up and they walked over to the side of the bar, where steps led down to the soft sand of the beach. They waited in the small parking lot in the back, standing around in the dark.

  “Ladies,” Nathan said, approaching where Trish stood next to Adelaide, waiting with her arms crossed.

  “Nathan. How is life?”

  “Good.”

  “How are the boys?” Adelaide asked, more out of politeness, to make conversation.

  Trish hated that her ears perked whenever there was potential news of Cory. She didn’t want to know, but she couldn’t stop her ears perking anyway.

  “They’re all good. Nothing new, really. Oh, except Cory,” here we go, Trish thought, “got a car.”

  “Oh, that’s cool,” Adelaide said, completely disinterested.

  “As in, he was given a car by one of the ladies at the Athletic Club. And not like Aggie, one of the divorcées.” Nathan threw his head back and laughed. “Thanking him for spreading the love.” Nathan was obviously impressed. He staggered slightly, unstable on his feet.

  Trish frowned with disgust as the implications sank in and Adelaide turned to her to gauge her reaction. “That’s just sick.” Her stomach clenched in disgust, like she was going to throw up. She’d known Cory was bad, but not that bad. Was he sleeping with the women at the club, too? Was there anyone he wasn’t sleeping with? And for gratuity it seemed. Her stomach heaved. Maybe she really was going to throw up.

  “Nice car, too. Maroon, which is really more of a girl’s colour, don’t you think?”

  “Or a whore’s,” Trish couldn’t help herself saying. Whatever esteem she had for Cory had just hit rock bottom. He really was a revolting bottom feeder.
r />   Nathan laughed again and Trish decided she didn’t like him either. He and Chrissy made a good pair. And apparently he was spending too long with them because Chrissy came over to see that nothing was going on—as if either of them would be interested in Nathan. “I was just telling them about Cory’s car. Playa,” he said with some pathetic looking gangster gesture.

  “Cory likes to play around, doesn’t he?” Chrissy said. Trish could see the malice in her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her?

  “He works with what he’s good at,” Trish said dismissively. “And he is good at it.” She shrugged, acting like it meant absolutely nothing to her. Defending him, although she was revolted by him, took the wind out of Nathan and Chrissy’s sails. Nathan not liking hearing how good Cory was in bed, and Chrissy because it was hard to gloat over a putdown that had no impact. “Good night tonight. José is such a sweetheart. Hey, just wanted to let you know: me and Adelaide are getting a place. Obviously, she needs a place and it’s just her, so I’m gonna join her.”

  “And what are we supposed to do with your room?” Chrissy said tightly, her voice rising sharply. “We can’t cover that rent.”

  “You’ll have to get someone else in,” Trish said with a smile, actually enjoying sticking it to Chrissy. This was, after all, her doing, being pissy at Adelaide the whole time. Chrissy had brought this on. While Trish had been reticent about getting a place with Adelaide, Chrissy’s clear malice had just made up her mind for her.

  “That’s a shitty thing to do,” Chrissy stated, drawing away, pulling Nathan with her. “You’re a shitty friend.”

  “You sure you want to?” Adelaide turned to her when their unwanted company departed.

  “I’m sick of Chrissy and her bullshit.” Trish wasn’t one hundred percent enthusiastic about the idea, but she couldn’t handle Chrissy any more. “We’ll start looking for a place in the morning.”

  “Cool,” Adelaide said with a smile. “It will be awesome. We’ll have the best place.”