Bare With Me

by Pawnie Santana

  “Good… and bad. Well, not really bad per say, just… I’ll have to explain it to you both.”

  “Ugh! Ken needs to get her butt here already. I need to know like yesterday!”

  I laugh and tell her patience is a virtue, knowing damn well it’s a virtue not one of us possesses. Speaking of the devil, I see her round the corner of the hostess stand and walk our way.

  “Hey Bitch, late much?” I say as I get up to hug her. She hugs me and goes to Max, doing the same.

  “Sorry girls, I was tied up… by a certain someone. Let’s just say I mean that in the literal sense.” She laughs. Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Ken does what she wants, when she wants. Lunch with us isn’t going to deter her in the least bit. Probably another one of those speed hitters—I mean daters. I chuckle to myself.

  “Well, good for you. Now that you’ve got your nookie out of the way, can I just say I’m glad you girls are both here? I wanted to update you guys about the whole situation regarding, you know, Him.” Both girls stare at me as the table goes silent, waiting to hear what I have to say.

  So, here I go…

  “Liam told me the day I got back from our trip that he ran into Him at a bar Friday night. Actually, I’d call it more of a confrontation. So anyways, he basically warned Liam to stay away from me or else… I’m not really sure. He didn’t say. It was more of just a general threat.”

  “Oh my God… What? I can’t believe it! That motherfucker! I fucking hate him! Can I please put a hit on his ass? Please? It won’t even come back to you. I promise, Pey. I can make him disappear forever!” Ken’s fuming. I can see her face starting to turn a couple different shades of red as she speaks.

  “Well, that’s the other thing I wanted to tell you two. Liam wants to hire a bodyguard to shadow me until we know what his intentions are but I told him no. I can take care of myself. I just think it’s all a bit much. Don’t you?” I say, looking a little nervous.

  “Holy shit! I knew I liked him for a reason. That man really has it bad for you Doll. What’d I say? What’d I tell you, Peyton? You need to take him up on that offer. You can’t get mad because he gives a shit. I mean, what could it hurt? You’re so damn stubborn…seriously. I say let him do it,” Ken says as she sits back in her chair and crosses her arms.

  “Ken, it’s not happening. Let it go. The only reason why I’m telling you is because I don’t want you to hear about it later from someone else.” I raise my eyes at her.

  “Hold on, so let me get this straight. He threatened Liam? How does he know about Liam?” Max asks me. It’s a valid point, but unfortunately I don’t have the answer to that.

  “I have no idea, Max. Just like I have no idea why he sent me that picture, or why he sent me those emails. He’s disturbed for all I know. Liam’s afraid he may come after me again so he wants to hire this guy Aiden knows to watch my back.” I look over at Ken as I say Aiden’s name just to see what her reaction would be. I was baiting her, but she’s as cool as a cucumber. She’s not giving me a thing to go off of. Hmm… I know something’s going on, I just don’t know what.

  “Well, I think it’s a great idea. I hope that motherfucker gets the message and stays away from you permanently.” Ken sighs as she looks out the window. I know she’s worried because of how it all went down with him the last time, but I don’t think he’d do it again. I mean, why? What would he get out of it? If he wanted me so badly, why did he lose it and hurt me the first time? Too many questions and no answers—it’s so frustrating.

  The conversation steers onto a lighter note as we talk about my willingness to enter this new relationship with Liam. The girls are both really happy for me because I’m finally trying to let go of my own demons and give it a real shot with him. Not to mention, they like how protective he is with me. He does just enough but doesn’t get carried away or make me feel like I have no say in my own life—one of the many qualities I admire about him.

  We talk and laugh and enjoy our time with one another. I love how there’s never a dull moment between the three of us. There’s no awkward silence or a need to pretend who we really are. We’re just us. I cherish that and I love these ladies.

  The waitress comes over to our table and asks if we know what we want to drink. Both Max and Ken say mimosas at the same time as they look at one another and start laughing. Obviously, we know what we all what. Mimosas all around!

  “Actually, make my mimosa without the OJ please,” Ken says, not missing a beat.

  The waitress looks confused as Max and I both turn our heads and look at each other.

  “Ken, Sweetie, you know that’s just going to be champagne right?” I ask, shaking my head.

  “Yes, I know that, Mother. But if I ask for champagne before noon, I’ll sound like an alcoholic. So in order to make myself feel better, I’m going to go with a mimosa without the OJ. Got it?” She winks at me and returns to look at the menu.

  The waitress just giggles at her and writes it on to her notepad while Max and I order real mimosas. Our waitress tells us the drinks will be out soon and walks off. I look over at Ken and just smile. She’s fuckin’ hilarious. Only Ken would do some shit like that.

  “Don’t even give me those crazy looks of yours, Peyton. When we’re all three together, this…”—she says as she circles her arms around the table—“is a no judging zone. We talk, we word vomit, and we keep shit real. What we don’t do is… we don’t judge.” She takes her index finger and waves it around at both Max and me.

  We all start laughing because no matter what the hell she says, we will judge. It’s the nature of the beast. But it’s all out of love. I mean this is why we’re friends. We do keep it real and we keep it honest between the three of us. That’s how it’s always been and that’s how it will stay.

  The waitress comes back and brings us the drinks as well as taking our orders. This café has the best pesto chicken salad ever so that’s what I’m going with. The girls order their food as I sip on my delicious drink. Hmm… so good!

  “So I met this guy at Roadies the other night. He came in with his MC and oh my goodness, girls, he’s SO sexy!” Max says with a dreamy look in her gorgeous eyes. Ken and I both raise our eyes at each other as we continue to listen to her.

  “He’s the VP of a motorcycle club called the Night Takers. They rolled through last night on their way to Georgia. I swear I wanted to drop my panties for him right then and there. I mean if he asked me to bend over, I probably would have. You guys should’ve seen him. Ugh! I was in lust at first sight,” she says, still swooning over this MC guy.

  “Okay, twenty questions time,” Ken begins to say. “Did you get his number? Are you going to see him again? When do I get to meet him? Does he have any hot friends? Where’s he from? Is he coming back here at some point? And did you do anything else with him besides talk? If so, how big is his cock? Are we talking six inches or more… or six inches or less?

  “Because I’m telling you right now, Max, if it’s less than six inches… it is not worth it Doll.” Oh no. Did she go there? Yup, she went there.

  “Ken!” Max and I both whisper-shout at her. She’s the only person I know who can make me choke on a drink.

  “What? Oh please, don’t even tell me you weren’t thinking it! I know you bitches are low down freaks. So? Answers, Max? Friends don’t leave friends hanging.” She starts tapping her nails again on the table. I hate when she does that.

  I shake my head and put my hand up to my forehead. She’s lost her ever-loving mind. Max just smirks at her because, although we should be used to it by now, she still manages to shock us.

  “First off—no, Ken, I didn’t sleep with him so I wouldn’t know how big his you-know-what is. And to answer the rest—yes, I have his number but he doesn’t have mine. His MC’s here in South Carolina, but his chapter is from Charleston so yes, I guess he’ll be around, I’m not really sure. It’s the first time I’ve seen him or his club at Roadies.”

  “Well, that sucks. I
thought I was going to hear something juicy.” Ken rolls her eyes and mocks a yawn.

  “Well, we can’t all be like you, Ken. I’d be afraid for any guy you were interested in. You’d eat him alive,” I tease her. I know she plays it up like she’s tough, but she’s all talk.

  “Damn right, I’d eat his ass alive. I’m still looking for Mr. Right. Meaning—he needs to be right in the head, right in the wallet, and right in bed. If he can’t match all three criteria, then on to the next.” Ken shrugs her shoulders, not giving it another thought.

  “Are you going to call him?” I ask Max.

  “I don’t know yet. I’m still thinking about it. He seemed really interested, but guys like him are bad news. They have club girls around them all the time. I’m just not that great with trust, especially if he’s a VP. They tend to do whatever they want.” She frowns.

  I can tell she’s more than interested; otherwise, she wouldn’t have brought it up. But that’s a decision she’s going to have to make herself. She knows we’ll be here to back her up.

  We get our food and converse further about Roadies. I know I’m not a big fan of going out but I need to support my girl and go hang out there sometime. She’s wanted us to go for a while now. I need to make a mental note to get with Ken and see when we can head over there. It’s a biker bar—how bad can it be?

  We finish up our lunch and make plans to meet Sunday for breakfast or lunch. The waitress comes back with our check and I grab it before any of the girls do. Since lunch was my idea, I want to pay. They’ll have to deal with it.

  I can already see Ken rolling her eyes at me while Max smiles and tells me she’s got it next time. We get up and grab our purses, hugging each other and saying our farewells. I hear a beep coming from my purse so I dig around and see a missed call and text from Liam. Oops. I’m totally cheesing on the inside though. Giddy much?!

  Text Message from Liam

  Getting on the plane… thinking about you.

  Text Message to Liam

  Have a safe flight. Call me when you land.

  Text Message from Liam

  You forget something?

  Text Message to Liam

  No?

  Text Message from Liam

  Miss you Babe. :)

  Text Message to Liam

  Miss you too :)

  It’s been a few weeks since my last shopping session, so I head over to the mall for some shopping time. It excites me every time I think about shopping. I have a couple things I need to buy. Firstly, I am in desperate need of new panties and bras. It’s been a while since I’ve had the opposite sex look at my lingerie collection so I’ll need to stop by La Perla. I’m going to do some major damage in that store.

  La Perla is a high-end boutique that carries the most exquisite collections. It’s hard not to go crazy. It just makes you feel sexy knowing you’re wearing a lace set under your clothes. A naughty little secret only you know about. I can’t help but wonder how much Liam will like my collection. I’m thinking a few new garters would be nice too.

  As I walk into the store, a beautiful young woman approaches me and asks if I need any help finding anything in particular. Of course, I decline—because I already know exactly what I’m here to get. I walk over to the left side of the store first, where there are clear cases with half mannequin bodies being showcased with three different types of panties. I go to the second case because my favorites are the Maharani Brazilian briefs. They are so soft and luxurious, you never feel like you’re wearing anything. I pull out the three colors they come in—blush rose, black lace, and almond white. At $128 a pair, I’m glad they only have these in three colors! I get the high-waist garters that go with the panties as well. Once I get the panties and garters, I go to my next stop: bras. Oh how I love a nice push up. Having double Ds is a blessing and a curse.

  The blessing is obvious, of course. The curse, well—I spend a lot of money to keep my girls happy. The bras are hung against a clear glass wall. I take a look and see some I really like so I ask for assistance in getting my size. When you’re anything above a B, forget it. They gotta go to the back and get it for you. True story. The sales woman comes back and tells me she’s taken the bras to the counter for me, so I browse around and fall in love with a one-piece sheer privilege pink baby doll. I just can’t leave the store without it. I’m such a sucker.

  I take what I have in my hand to the counter, ready to pay so I can get out of here. The total amount could make a chimp blush—I can’t believe I just spent over $1500 on lingerie. The woman wraps up all my purchases in white tissue paper and a white handled logo bag that ties at the top with white ribbon. I leave the store with my bag and I feel like I’m on a high. Shopping does that for me. It’s the thrill and excitement that never lets me down. I hear a beep coming from my purse so I take my phone out and see it’s a message from Liam.

  Text Message from Liam

  Just landed. Off to see the sites.

  Can’t wait to get back home. 7 hrs. in counting…

  Text Message to Liam

  Have fun… but not too much fun. Kidding!

  Miss you lots. Let the countdown begin. :)

  I feel better now that I’ve heard from him. Flying just makes me so nervous even when I’m not the one on the plane. Yes... neurotic.

  Next, off to the shoe store. I walk downstairs and look for my favorite place… Jimmy Choos. I love how versatile all the shoes are. You have the classic pumps, wedges, sandals, and the flirty heels. I love them all. I make my rounds to make sure I get a look at everything and decide on two pair: the Jasper and Mirto suede leather sandals and the nude suede mesh sandals with blinged out beads on the front. They are both sexy and casual at the same time. I’m planning on wearing the nude mesh ones to the Powers’ wedding.

  I finish up my purchases and head to my car with my arms weighed down from the shopping bags. I start loading everything up and get in the car to head home. I’ve had a pretty productive day. I can’t wait to get home and put all my new beauties away and just relax with a nice glass of Red Bordeaux wine. I drive through the gates of my community and even though it’s summertime, the evening winds are blowing and it feels amazing with my convertible top down. It’s moments like this that I enjoy the most. The simple pleasures in life make me happy. Yes, I do like nice things, but I don’t need them in order to be happy. Give me a banana hammock and a case of water and I’ll be just fine.

  As I reach my street, I suddenly get a bad feeling. There’s no real way to explain it, other than something in your gut telling you something’s not right. I pull up to my driveway and park my car in its usual spot. There’s that feeling again—something that’s niggling in the back of my brain. I get out of my car and take a step back, looking around my surroundings. The street I live on is pretty much quiet all the time so there’s nothing out the ordinary. I turn back around and look at my house. That’s when I see the figure of a man walking through my living room, passing up the window. I have blinds but I don’t have curtains and the blinds are never closed. My heart sinks into my stomach and I start to panic. I have no idea what to do. Should I leave? Should I call the police? Why is this happening to me? How did I become a victim all over again? Oh God! I’m freaking the fuck out!

  My first instinct is to crouch down next to the side of my car door. Yeah—because he can’t see my car parked in the driveway— stupid, stupid, stupid! I pull my phone out of my purse and dial 911. The operator picks up the line and says “911, what’s your emergency?” I’m still crouching down and I start to whisper in to the phone, “I just got home and I think someone’s in my house. I saw someone walking through the living room and I live alone. Can you send someone over here?”

  “Ma’am, stay calm and stay outside. Get in your car and lock all the doors. What’s your address?” the operator says.

  “Okay, I’m in my car. The address is 8534 Pecan Drive. How much longer before they get here?” I say, shaking.

  “I have a c
ruiser en route to your address now. They should be there in a few minutes. Stay on the phone with me until they get there, ma’am,” she says calmly.

  How the fuck she stays so calm is beyond me. I’m going out of my mind right now. She keeps talking to me until I hear sirens coming down the street. Two squad cars with their lights flashing pull up to the bottom of the driveway, and officers get out armed with their guns. One of the officers comes to my window as I tell the operator that the police have arrived and I hang up.

  “Ma’am, please stay in your vehicle until we clear your house. Did you see how many people were in your residence?” the officer asks me.

  “No, I… I… I just pulled up and… um, I was walking to get my bags out when I looked through the living room window and saw a man walking past the window. I don’t know if he saw me. I called 911 and stayed in my car,” I tell him as I point at my house with shaking hands.

  “Do you think he’s still in there?” I ask. I feel violated that someone was in my house doing god knows what.

  “Stay here with Officer Johnson, Ma’am. We’re going to do a check and let you know what we find. Can I get the keys to the door?” I nod my head up and down and hand my keys to him, then sit back down in my car. The door is open and Officer Johnson is standing next to it. He leans down and asks me if I’m doing okay. I guess I look pretty freaked out. I can’t seem to find my voice so I just nod.

  About fifteen minutes later, both officers come back to my car and tell me the house is clear but they want me to go in with them and walk through to see if anything had been disturbed or was out of place. I agree and head toward the porch. That’s when I notice the light is on, so I ask the officer if he’d happened to turn it on when they went inside and he says no. They didn’t touch anything besides the doors and interior lights. Oh. My. God. The light wasn’t on when I left this afternoon to meet the girls. Just then, my mind goes back to a couple weeks ago when I came home after dinner with Max and the porch light was on. I thought Giselle, my maid, left it on but she always uses the back door. I forgot all about it—and now this? It can’t be a coincidence. There’s just no way.