by Teri Kay
I stepped out of Damon’s office as they passed by. “Vaughn, can we talk please?” I asked her.
“Nope, I really don’t have anything to say to you. Bobby, can you please take me to my car?” She continued to walk right past me.
“I’ve got it from here, Bobby,” my tone left no room for argument. Bobby was Damon’s younger brother, and one of the few people who knew I was a silent partner. That knowledge was most certainly had him obeying and going inside to wait for the other girls.
“You’re joking, right? What, because you're some famous poker player and the boss’s friend, people around here jump at your command?” Vaughn was beginning to yell at me and I could tell she was upset. Great, I’ve done it again.
“Calm down, butterfly. Just let me walk you to your car.” I placed my hand on the small of her back and gently guided her out the door. “Which car is yours?” She pointed to the sleek looking purple Dodge Challenger. Okay, I wasn't expecting that one. She noticed the surprised look on my face.
“My ex liked muscle cars. I couldn’t help but fall in love them also,” Vaughn explained. Ex? That was damn good news to hear, but the way she talked about him made it sound like she was still hung up on him. Damn it. Why did I even care?
“Look, butterfly. I’m sorry for my behavior tonight. That wasn’t me. The comment I said to you was horrible and if I could take it back I would,” I apologized as we stopped next to her car.
“You can’t and it’s fine,” she lied, her right hand digging around in her purse; doing her best to avoid eye contact with me.
Oh, that is not good. A woman saying things are fine is the kiss of death. “Please look me.” I gently lifted her chin up to meet my eyes. “I really didn't mean it. Let me take you to go get some breakfast so I can explain.” Doubt clouded her eyes, but I could tell she was the type of girl that needed an explanation.
“The girls told me I shouldn’t go out with clients,” she answered, a cute smile tugging at her lips.
“Good thing I’m more than just a client. Give me your keys. I only have my bike tonight and we’ll need to get a helmet for you before I can give you ride.”
The laugh that came from her almost caught me off guard. “Yeah, I don’t think so, nuts. No one drives my car but me.” Nuts? Damon. I needed to remember to kick his ass.
“Really now? A woman in control. I like that,” I said as I climbed in the passenger seat. “I know a diner at the end of the strip that serves some amazing pancakes. Sound good?”
“Nope. I have a better idea,” she said as she drove down the strip. She flipped on the radio and Why Can’t I by Liz Phair came blaring through the speakers. Slightly awkward, but weirdly appropriate. She hopped on the freeway and I had not a clue where my butterfly was taking me, but I was definitely intrigued. Part of me wanted to ask where we were going but I was enjoying the mystery of her.
During the twenty-minute drive there wasn’t much conversation. Vaughn was definitely a music person. About every other minute she was changing the radio stations. She had the windows down, which had her hair blowing in her face, but she continued singing along to every song. My butterfly was a fun person to watch. I still had no idea where she was taking me when we pulled into a condo complex. However, when we pulled into her garage, the lightbulb went on. Holy shit, this girl took me to her house. Fuck! Damn, maybe this girl is more than a stripper. Shit, when did my instincts get so bad?
“My dog hasn’t been let out all night, and why pay for pancakes when I can make some excellent ones right here? Just don’t get any crazy ideas, nuts.” With that she got out and ran inside the house. Well, didn’t I feel like a dumbass.
I sat there for a second trying to regain my thoughts when I heard her dog starting to bark. From the sounds of it, it was a large dog. She popped her out of the garage door, “You’re not afraid of dogs are you?” Shit, I guess I'd been sitting there longer than I realized.
I jumped out of her car and made my way into her place. Cute little place, not really what you’d expect a stripper’s home to look like. But then again, I'd never been to a dancer’s place besides Jordyn’s, so how the hell would I know? Vaughn’s place was decorated in a beach style, surfboards, seashells, and lots of turtles. It reminded me a lot of where I grew up back in California. I had to laugh when I saw the big pit bull with its nose pressed up against the glass of the patio door.
“That’s Roxy. She’s my four-year-old rescue. If dogs don’t bother you, I’d love to let her in. But I warn you, guard your toes,” she laughed as she let the rambunctious dog inside. Immediately, the crazy dog ran over to me and started licking the toes of my boots. “I have no idea. She’s weird.” Vaughn shrugged and walked back into the kitchen and started pulling everything out to make me breakfast.
“Hold it right there, butterfly. I asked you to breakfast. Let me cook. Plus, you worked all night,” I said as I guided her around the counter and into one of the bar stools. She threw her hands up in defeat. I could see the surprise in her face, which had me wondering if her ex never did anything like that for her before.
I loved having her brown eyes watch me as I cooked. I wasn’t a great chef, but I knew my way around a kitchen. Being single for so long kind of forced me into it. You can only eat at the casinos so many nights a week.
“Why do you keep calling me butterfly? Is it because of my tattoos?” Vaughn asked.
“No, but someday I would like to learn what those mean. Okay, I'm about to get all Bill Nye the Science Guy here on you now.” That made her chuckle. “When you think about a butterfly, it’s constantly changing. Every time you see it, it looks different. It goes from a caterpillar, to a cocoon, to the butterfly. Not one time, ever less beautiful than before, just always different. Each time I see you, you seem to be a different person. So you are my butterfly.”
A tear slid down her cheek. Damn, the last thing I wanted to do was make her cry, but I'd definitely impressed myself with my explanation, “Don’t cry, beautiful,” I whispered as I wiped the tear from her cheek.
“That was one of the most beautiful things anyone has ever said to me.”
“Oh, only one of the most beautiful things huh? Looks like I may have my work cut out for me,” I teased, wanting to see her smile again.
“Will you excuse me for just a second please?” Vaughn hopped down and went back to her bedroom. I really hoped I didn’t upset her more. It was not my intention for this morning’s breakfast. I continued cooking hoping she liked everything I was making. She wasn’t there to ask and I really didn’t want to make her upset anymore than I already had. Blueberry pancakes, eggs, and bacon it is.
My butterfly came walking back into the kitchen in a pair of short jean shorts, a Miranda Lambert concert tank top, and her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. The thick makeup the girls at the club wore, was gone. “Hi. I’m Ryann. I have a summer job at The Cave,” she held out her hand. And there’s my blonde beauty.
“Hi, Ryann. My name’s Nathaniel, but my friends call me Nathan. I play cards for a living. I really hope we can be friends.”
“I would like that,” she whispered, her eyes on mine.
We spent the next couple hours getting to know each other with small talk. Dancer or not, my gut was telling me there was something more to her. Wisely, I knew not to push for more information than she'd given so far. But hopefully, Ryann and I would have those talks later. We actually had a lot in common. We’d both kill for sushi anytime of the day, we were dog people, and were both from California. She was from northern, and I was from southern. I made her promise to never use the word “hella” in front of me. I think I might have created a monster.
As the sun was starting to come up, exhaustion began to play across Ryann’s face. She started to yawn and her eyes were fluttering closed. “Hey, butterfly, let’s get you to bed.” I picked her up like I did the night of her birthday and carried her back to her bedroom. Tucking her head in the crook of my neck, I got a whiff of h
er coconut scented hair. The scent was becoming my newest addiction. I gently set her down on the bed, and tucked the covers over her. Hesitating for a few more moments, I watched to make sure she was comfortable, then turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” Ryann mumbled. “We left your bike at the club.” She rolled over to look at me. “Come lay down with me.”
Damn, this woman was killing me. “As tempting as that offer is, I think I might take the couch for a couple hours. I don’t trust myself in bed with you, butterfly.” I kissed her again on her forehead and left her room.
In the living room, Roxy was spread across the couch, snoring. Ryann told me this was Roxy’s house and she gets the privilege of living here. We'd been fighting with that crazy dog for the couch all morning. I decided to make myself comfortable on the recliner chair and tried to catch a few hours of sleep before I called Vanessa to come get me. If anyone could help me figure this shit out it’s my Nessa. Her and I have had our ups and down but she's always been in my corner.
Once I closed my eyes, all I heard was Roxy snoring on the couch across from me. I had a beautiful woman who invited me to share her bed with her in the next room, and instead I was sharing the living room with her dog. I grabbed my phone.
Me: Nes—I’m at Vaughn’s. Come get me please. My bike’s at the club.
Vanessa: WTH? Ok. When?
Me: Now…this dog snores like crazy.
Forty-five minutes later I got the text that Vanessa was here. I left the note I wrote Ryann on the kitchen counter, and quietly snuck out, making sure I locked the door behind me. The second I climbed in Vanessa’s car she started screaming at me.
“I know you and Vaughn had some kind of argument last night and you said some awful things to her. But do you really think going home with her, calling her a dog, and then calling me for your walk of shame was the best to do, you idiot!”
By the time she was finished, I was trying not to laugh. “Are you finished?” I asked. Vanessa nodded, but her eyes still flashed daggers at me. “I was talking about her actual dog, Roxy. She offered to let me to get some sleep in her bed, and in my gentlemanly ways, I declined and offered to sleep on the couch."
“Oh. Sorry.” I explained to her that I apologized and offered to take her to get something to eat but instead we came back to her place, ate, talked and got to know each other a little.
When we pulled up in front of the club, she shut her car off and stared at me. “Do you like Vaughn, Nathan?” Hmm. Vanessa was still calling Ryann Vaughn. I wondered how much Vanessa really knew about her.
“I don’t know. I know I’d like to get to know her better. What’s her story, Nessa?” I asked.
“Just like I told her about you. It’s her story to tell. I will tell you this. She’s not like the other girls. Give her time. Now scoot. Just like Vaughn, I have the next two days off and need some rest.” Vanessa winked at me and pushed me out of the car.
“Thanks, babe. I really do owe you one.”
On my ride home that morning, I kept thinking about Vanessa’s hint that Ryann had the next two days off. I think I may just need to take advantage of that situation.
After a few hours of sleep, I woke up with my mind still racing. I had a nice time with Ryann the night before. It just sucked that I literally had no idea how to move forward. When it came down to it, she was a stripper. Since Jordyn, I’ve been adamant about not dating strippers. But I should know by now I can’t judge every dancer by my ex-slut's standards. Both Damon and Ryann mentioned that this was her summer job. So what was her regular job? Was she leaving Las Vegas after the summer, or just The Cave?
I wasn't going to find out anything unless I made that move. I didn’t have to date her or have sex with her. Vanessa and I were friends, so why couldn’t I be friends with Ryann? Right? Who was I trying to kid? I wanted to be much more than her friend.
Me: Good afternoon butterfly. Hope you got a good morning’s sleep.
Ryann: Nathan?
Me: Is there someone else who calls you butterfly?
Ryann: Nope just you nuts. I did sleep well. I was bummed to come out and find you already gone.
Me: Couldn’t sleep. Roxy snores. Lol. Do you have any plans tomorrow?
Ryann: Only my usual day off errands. Are you sure you want to be seen around Vegas with a MILF?
Me: Oh that one hurt. Of course I do. Remember what MILF stands for! ☺
The texting went quiet for a few minutes. In my effort to make up for being a jackass the other night, I most likely just upset her again. I really did need to work on not doing that.
Ryann: Maybe this is a bit presumptuous, but would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I am tired of eating alone and I figured we could finish our conversation from this morning.
Me: I feel the same way. What time would you like me to come over?
Ryann: Maybe around 7. Bring your swim trunks!
Me: Sounds good. See you tonight.
Well, I definitely wasn’t expecting that. I knew I wanted to get to know her better, but I had definite hesitations. I had to remind myself that Ryann was not Jordyn. Choosing not to explore the apparent connection we had between us due to being burned by some other girl in the same profession would just be stupid on my part. That would be like someone not liking me because some other person beat them in cards. Ryann was beautiful, and there was something special about her. I owed it to both of us to see where things might go.
Not wanting to seem too eager, I waited until quarter after seven to arrive at Ryann’s house. When I pulled up in front of her condo, I actually got a nervous feeling in my stomach, like I was in fucking high school or something. I grabbed the bouquet of sunflowers and the bottle of wine, and made my way to her door. As soon as I knocked, Roxy began barking like crazy. Ryann answered the door in a barbeque apron that said “Kiss the Cook”. She had no idea how damn bad I wanted to do that. But right now, we were starting with this “friend” thing.
“Hey, nuts!” she greeted me with a happy smile, wrapping me in a surprisingly big hug.
“Hi, butterfly. I’m gonna have to kill Damon!” I said as I walked in.
“Why?”
“For telling you about my college nickname,” I answered.
“Damon didn’t tell me anything,” she replied while walking to the back yard to tend to the barbeque. “Your Instagram name is @IGottheNuts21. And then you just followed me but never messaged me or liked anything so I just figured you were nuts," she joked.
I came up from behind her while she was turning the steaks, and put my arms around her waist. “You better be careful, I might just be nuts.” I gave her a soft kiss on the back of her neck. The moan she let out was so sweet, it left me with the desire to kiss that spot over and over again.
“How do you like your steak?” she asked.
“Medium please. First pancakes and now steak, my two favorite things. A woman after my damn stomach,” I laughed.
“Well, technically you made me pancakes so we’re going to have to see how you like mine,” she replied with a sly grin.
Nice and Slow
Even though Nathan had a tendency to be an asshole, there was something about him that kept drawing me in. I wanted to be the bitch who gave him the cold shoulder, and ignored how that sexy man made me wet between my thighs. But I couldn’t. At the club, he'd said some things to me that pretty much brought me to tears, and I used G to piss him off. Or maybe make him jealous, I don’t know. I just know I wanted him to hurt as much as I was. It seemed to work. When he came out of Damon’s office and asked to walk me to my car I used my best “teacher face” to try and act mad. But honestly, with him it didn’t work. When Nathan looked at me with those deep, golden hazel eyes my knees went weak and I giggled like a little school girl.
I knew when I invited him over I was asking for trouble. The man made me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. I was nervous and tongue tied and seemed to have a permanent smile around him. Nathan h
ad this knack for getting under my skin. He could go from being the sweetest guy ever to the asshole who avoided me at every turn. I wasn't sure what his problem was but by inviting him over I hoped to figure him out a little bit.
I knew I was lonely. I missed having a man in my life, and it wasn’t just the physical connection either. I missed sharing meals with someone; missed arguing with someone over what to watch on television; I even missed the toilet seat being left up.
Nathan was the first guy that had even looked my way since my divorce, and there was a good possibility I was just seeing what I hoped to see. There was just one major problem. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at my stripper persona, Vaughn. Holy fuck, I can’t believe I have a stripper name. And he keeps calling me butterfly. I was sure it was a reference to my tattoos. If only he knew butterflies were a symbol for miscarriage, and my tattoos were a beautiful reminder that I had two angels waiting for me in heaven. At the same time, they were a symbol of something I could never have.
When he offered to make me breakfast, I was slightly in shock. I couldn't remember a time anyone had ever cooked for me before. Granted, I was with Lucas for the last nine years and he couldn’t cook for shit, but still it was a sweet gesture. The guys I'd dated before weren’t much better. Usually barbeque. That’s how I learned. I could grill a mean steak, if I did say so myself. I just sat and stared in awe as he maneuvered his way around my kitchen.
I figured now was as good of time as any to ask him why he called me butterfly. I automatically assumed it was because of my tattoo, it was sort of obvious. Yet his answer shocked the hell out of me, but he was so right. I was a different person each time he saw me. The first time we met was my birthday and I was myself. Well, kind of. I looked like myself but Rose had introduced me as Vaughn. The next time was my first night at the club with the red wig, and then the night of my first stage performance as the naughty student.
I excused myself while he was beginning to cook and went into my bedroom. If I wanted Nathan to like me, he had to know me. The real me, Ryann Michelle McKennan—I needed to change that. But how much would I let him know? I couldn’t tell him what I did for a living. No matter how much I liked him, it wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. Did I lie or just omit any unnecessary information? Slow down, Ryann. Start with you physically. Blonde hair, brown eyes, jean shorts, and my Miranda tank. I'd just be myself…whoever that was.
