by Jessa Eden
“Sure, you can have as many as you like.” I motioned to Joaquin, who was standing by for nacho duty.
“Cool. I’m so hungry. My mom says I eat her out of house and home.”
“I believe it.”
“So what do you like to do?” I asked.
“Oh, jokes are my thing. Love the jokes,” he said, taking a drink of his beer as we sat in the seat facing the game.
“Yeah, I think you come by that honestly.” My granddad was the same.
“Got any good ones?”
“Sure. Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Interrupting cow.”
“Interrupting cow w—“
“Mooo!” Charlie said, chuckling as he got out the punch line.
I laughed from the sheer corniness of the joke. “Nice one. So you like the knock, knock jokes?” I asked.
“I do. You can’t go wrong with a classic.”
“That’s a classic? Try this one on for size. An Englishman, American, and Irishman, all walk into a bar and order a beer. The bartender gives them each a beer; however, there are flies in each mug.
“Well, the Englishman pushes the beer aside and says, ‘That's disgusting.’
“The American pulls the fly out and starts drinking the beer.
“The Irishman pulls the fly out, sets it on the counter and shouts, ‘SPIT IT OUT YOU BASTARD!’” I finished in a bad Irish accent.
Charlie let out a peel of laughter, sounding like a deranged hyena. “Oh, that’s a good one.”
“Yeah, it’s a classic,” I laughed, pleasantly surprised he found my joke funny.
“That’s a keeper. I’m locking it in the vault,” Charlie giggled, pointing to his temple.
“You do that,” I chuckled.
With humor in the air, we turned our attention to the game and watched it for a little while as the Gators took a 3-0 lead in the second period.
“I could get used to this,” Charlie confessed, after his third trip to the nacho bar.
“I do like my box. I spend a lot of time here.”
“Do you come to all the home games?”
“Pretty much. I usually use the time to network and invite different people to enjoy the VIP treatment.”
“Well, I will come back anytime you want me to.”
I was pleased. “Consider yourself invited back.”
“Cool. So what’s going on with you and my mom?” he asked abruptly, as he took a sip from his bottle of beer.
That was a loaded question. “Um...it’s complicated,” I answered, hoping he wouldn’t want more information.
“That’s a dumb answer. Of course, it’s complicated. You just found out you have a kid and I just found out I have a dad. But you have to treat my mom right because otherwise there is no way we can move forward.”
I guess we were already in our first man to man talk.
“I can appreciate you defending your mom. But a lot happened before you were born. Your mom broke up with me and then never let me know you were in the picture, which isn’t cool at all. Believe me, if I had known, I would have been there.”
Charlie shot me a quizzical glance. “Have you ever asked her why she never let you know about me? Maybe she had a good reason. My mom is a very wise, wonderful woman. Growing up, she always told me what a good guy you were and that she loved you very much, b—“
“She still loves me?” I interrupted wildly, my voice suddenly high.
“You didn’t know that?”
“No, no. I thought your mom had a much different opinion of me.”
“Man, every time my mom talks about you, she gets all glowy with this dreamy look in her eyes as she tried to explain to me who you are, and what you’re about.”
“Really?” I asked in stunned disbelief.
“Yep. My mom holds nothing but love for you, man, and if you can’t see that, you don’t deserve her.”
That just about knocked me on my ass. It just didn’t make sense. Why would Marla tell Charlie such great things about me, but never let me know I had a kid?
Something was fishy.
Things weren’t adding up.
CHAPTER NINE
Marla:
I was happy Beau finally reached out to Charlie. I had prayed Beau would eventually come around, but it was a relief when he finally did.
Charlie was tight-lipped about his night with Beau. All he said was he had fun and hoped they would get together again. I didn’t press him for details, but I did encourage him to spend more time with his dad.
All I could do was cross my fingers and hope they would continue to take steps to get to know each other. Thankfully, I had a distraction to take my mind off this situation. Stacy had flown in for her sister’s wedding and we were having dinner at my house and then going out.
Knowing her, she would be dressed to the nines and look amazing. I was determined to keep up and be more adventurous in my style choices. So I put on a pink cocktail dress I found buried in the back of my closet after I completed my exotic make-up.
My eyes were dark and mysterious after watching YouTube tutorials and consulting Emma, the smoky eye queen. Normally, I was more organic in my makeup choices, but I wanted something a little spicier for my evening out with Stacy.
“You have to line the upper lid and under your bottom lashes,” Emma instructed as I put my cell on speakerphone and put it down on the bathroom sink counter.
“I do?” I asked as I held the black liner in my hand and stared in the mirror at my upper lid. “How do I do it?”
“Start slowly. You need a steady, light hand. Follow your natural eye line until the corner and then sweep up, just like the videos showed you.”
“All right. I’m gonna try it. I’ll give you a call back if I need any more help.”
“Always here, big sister. Go have fun tonight!” she gushed.
“I will. Love you, Sugarpop.”
“Mwah!” she kissed into the phone as I giggled.
We hung up and I followed her advice, managing to create a decent smoky eye. Emma was right. It made all the difference.
I gave myself a once over in the bedroom’s full-length mirror, admiring the way my hot pink dress clung to me. It hugged my curves just right, with only a bit of a cleavage showing in the V neckline. My hair was pulled up in a loose twist, giving me a soft frame around my face.
Feeling satisfied with my look, I threw on the black Jimmy Choos Beau had given me and headed downstairs. As I walked into the kitchen, I pulled down the hem of my Lycra infused cotton dress, wondering if I could carry off this whole sexy vibe for the evening.
I wasn’t sure how long my bravery would last.
I checked on the chicken dish cooking in the oven as I thought about changing into something less sexy. But my concern quickly evaporated as the doorbell rang. I clipped-clopped toward the door, so excited to see one of my favorite people.
“Stacy!” I yelled as I threw open the screen door.
“Marla!” she cried as she threw her arms around me.
We hugged for a long moment, before she took a step back and evaluated my outfit.
“Oh, girl, you look good. I won’t even make you change,” she complimented.
“Thanks. You look gorgeous as always.” She had let her hair go straight years ago, but she had beautiful blonde streaks highlighting her long dirty blonde hair hanging down her back.
“Oh, this old thing.” She waved her hand dismissively, as if she just rolled out of bed looking like a movie star.
Yeah, right. I didn’t believe her for a second.
Her style had evolved greatly from the days she imitated Madonna. Nowadays, she wore chic designer clothing, which gave her a total cool factor. Tonight was no different. She was beautiful in her lacey black Dolce and Gabbana dress.
“Come on in, we have so much to catch up on,” I gushed as I walked toward the kitchen.
“I know. I want to hear what’s been going on with you,” she sai
d, following me.
Taking a seat at my kitchen table, she watched me put the finishing touches on dinner.
“It’s been a wild summer,” I told her as I pulled a breadbasket down from a cabinet.
She arched one perfectly manicured brow. “Oh, really?”
“Guess who showed up back in town.”
“Who?” She could barely contain her excitement.
“Beau.”
“Oh, my god.” She sucked in her breath and she put her hand over her chest. “Have you seen him?”
“Yes, I have.”
Her blue green eyes grew big. “Tell me everything.”
“I will. Let me get dinner out of the oven and I’ll give you the scoop.”
Over Chicken Parmesan, I brought her up to speed on the whole Beau saga as we sat at my kitchen table. Her eyes got even wider as I shared the sordid details of Beau trying to blackmail me.
She banged her fist on the table. “That asshole! I can’t believe he would do that.”
I smiled. She was always so dramatic, but I loved her concern for me. She had been a good friend for many years and I was finally ready to reveal the whole secret.
“I hurt Beau bad, Stacy, and more importantly, he doesn’t know his father forced me to break-up with him by threatening to take away Emma.”
Her heart shaped face fell into shock. “Oh, Marla. That’s awful. You never told me.”
“I didn’t tell anyone for twenty years. But I’m done hiding the past.”
“Good for you, you secretive bitch.”
No one else made the word bitch sound like a term of endearment.
I laughed. “I’ve so missed you!”
“I’ve missed you, too. You’ve been holding out on me, girl. I take it Beau knows about Charlie?”
“Yep. It took some time for him to reach out, but he stepped up and invited Charlie to a hockey game last week.”
“How did it go?”
I shrugged. “Okay, I think. Charlie has shown an interest in getting to know his dad, so that’s good. But because Beau’s so mad at me, I’m trying to sit on the sidelines and let them work things out.”
“That’s tough, lady.”
“Yeah, but my son has a chance to get to know his father and I’m grateful for that.”
“You always were an optimistic bitch, weren’t you?” she said with the same swagger she had in high school.
“Still am. I’m not giving up hope Beau will find his way back to me.”
She shot me a bright smile. “Thatta girl. I always hoped you and Beau would get back together.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, your relationship was always the standard for me. If a guy didn’t pass the Beau test, I tossed him to the curb.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You weren’t exactly open to talking about him and I wasn’t about to bring him up when it was too painful for you to discuss.”
I gave her a big hug. “I appreciate that. Thank you for being such a good friend.”
“Ah, you’re making me blush. Now let’s get ready to paint the town, lady. I’m itchin’ to dance.”
“All right. Let me clear our plates and put away dinner.”
“’Kay. I’m gonna check my makeup.” She disappeared into the bathroom, while I cleaned up the kitchen.
After I refreshed my own makeup, I met up with her in the living room, where she was sitting on the couch, waiting for me.
“Hey, that woman looks like you,” she said, pointing to the TV playing in the background.
There was a smiling picture of a woman with long dark hair and brown eyes similar to mine displayed on the screen. “Yeah, she kinda does,” I agreed.
I turned up the volume, so we could hear the report. “Sources say the victim was taken from her apartment complex parking lot and possibly assaulted at the hands of the serial rapist dubbed the Renaissance rapist, who’s known for his use of medieval phrases. If you have any information on the whereabouts of Marlena Sanchez, please call...” the newscaster rattled off before I turned off the TV.
“That’s awful,” I said sadly.
“We’re not going to let anything ruin our night. Let’s go knock ‘em dead, kid.” Stacy smiled, standing up and grabbing her purse.
I shook off the sadness I had any time I heard horrible news like that. “Okay, let’s get going.”
Our destination was a club called Scorch. Somehow, Stacy had gotten our names on the list. Whatever that meant.
We drove to a happening hotspot in downtown Baltimore. The neighborhood seemed a little sketchy. I wasn’t even sure if it was safe to get out as Stacy parked the car.
She didn’t have any such reservations.
She bounded out of the car and stood in her five inch heels by the passenger door. “Come on, scaredy cat.”
“Are you sure?” I glanced around the dark parking lot.
“Yes, everyone I’ve talked to raves about this place.”
“All right.” I reluctantly stepped out of the vehicle and pulled down on my dress again.
We crossed the street to the club, where a mile-long line filled with the under twenty-five crowd wrapped around the block.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked, as Stacy marched us to the front of the line to where a beefy bouncer was guarding the front door with an iPad in his hand.
“I told you we’re on the list,” she said and then gave the burly man our names.
The gruff bouncer nodded his bald head toward the door, signaling us to go inside. Stacy grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the den of iniquity.
God, help me. I was going in.
The sexy energy hit me as we walked along a darkened hall to where it widened out into a massive dance floor, complete with cages of dancing women clad in corsets and frilly panties.
A hazy, sensual vibe coursed through my blood, like a lover’s kiss seducing me of my inhibitions. I swayed to the heady beats of Diamonds in the Sky as the music floated through my body.
“I gotta dance,” I told Stacy as she stood next me.
“Okay, what do you want to drink?” she asked, as I drifted toward the dance floor.
“Rum and Coke, please,” I said, not concerned with anything but getting the chance to move.
After she took off for the bar, I shimmied my way to the middle of the hot dance floor, loving the way the dark lighting curled around me. It felt intimate and safe, like I was dancing in my room by myself.
I shut my eyes as the sexy music flowed through my body. Snaking my hands above my head, I turned slowly around as I tossed my hips from side to side in a figure eight pattern. I hadn’t danced like this in a long time and the wanton woman inside came roaring out as I writhed back and forth in complete abandonment.
Lost in my own vibe, I failed to notice I had attracted attention. When I finally glanced around there was a guy standing in front of me. It was hard to see all of his features in the low lighting, but he looked like he was in his mid-twenties. Hunger was in his hooded gaze, his body thick with muscle.
Feeling bold, I beckoned him closer as he traveled the short distance between us. Clasping my hands around his neck, I pressed my body against his as he ground against me.
For a minute, it felt good.
But he had other plans. He leaned forward, his lips claiming mine as he grabbed my ass and squeezed hard.
I ripped my mouth from his, stunned by his aggressive moves. This guy had committed a serious, violating misstep. I wasn’t going to be nice about it.
I hauled off and slapped him. “Don’t touch me!”
He didn’t like that, as he growled in my face. “You wanna bet?” he snarled, grabbing my right wrist and dragging me across the dance floor.
Oh crap, how the hell was I going to get out of this?
*****
Beau:
I stopped by Scorch to check on things as they started to heat up.
Sitting on my usual couch, I took in the pretty scenery. L
ots of beauties were getting down on the dance floor as the crowd started to thicken. Scanning the masses, I noticed a woman shaking her hips back and forth, as she got lost in the sensuality of the music. I watched her for a second, drawn in by the erotic, graceful way she moved.
What a hot ass.
Juicy.
Round as fuck.
Wait.
I knew that grade A ass.
My Marla radar went off as I recognized her gorgeous body.
I hadn’t lost my ability to track her.
I could sniff her out anywhere.
Her beautiful curves were one of a kind, beckoning men from miles around.
I went on high alert as she glided across the dance floor, soaking up the rhythms of some Rihanna song. My cock tightened against my pants as my mind swam with dirty filthy thoughts.
I had always been so hard for her.
So goddamn hard.
I wanted to grab her hair, pull her close, and ride her until she came undone on my dick. Fuck, I needed to bury myself inside her.
Mesmerized, I watched her shake her curvaceous hips over and over.
But I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Marla was attracting male attention right and left as they swarmed around her like a pack of wolves. One young punk approached her and she ushered him forward, swaying her hips as he stuck his leg between hers.
Son of a bitch, she was letting him grind all up in her business. I bolted up from my seat as rage blasted through me.
I wasn’t okay with another man touching her.
Marla was mine.
Always had been.
Always would be.
Her name coursed through my veins, like a junkie experiencing his first high. Anger rocked through my chest, moving up to the base of my brain, igniting a Neanderthal instinct to protect what was mine.
As I moved toward them, things became ten times worse as the douche bag claimed her lips in an obnoxious kiss while his hands found her luscious ass and squeezed, pulling her tight to his crotch.
That wasn’t going to fly with me as I increased my speed. But before I got to them, Marla hauled off and slapped him.
Atta girl.
Furious, the guy grabbed her wrist and tried to haul her away.
