Bearly Apart (Big Paw Security Book 5)

by Becca Fanning

  Lawrence was amazing at first. The things he would do for her made her feel like the only girl in the world. Flowers for no reason, breakfast in bed...other things in bed! A warm blush came to Nesha as she drove, remembering some of the attentions Lawrence used to pay her early in their relationship. He was a great kisser and a great lay. He was always hesitant to give head, but expected it be done to him. Her friends all told her that was a major red flag early in their dating, but she blew them off. Pulling up to the bank parking lot a few minutes early, she let the engine idle and let her mind remember the good old days.

  The weekend in Puerto Vallarta, where they'd snuck out into the pool to make love at 3am. She could still feel the sensation of Lawrence sliding in and out of her in the water. Each time he thrust into her, the cool water around her shifted. She felt like a piece of beautiful driftwood at sea, being carried by the current off into wonderful oblivion. The security person who had found them went back to his office without saying another word.

  Clonk!

  The heavy security door in the rear of the bank closed loudly, snapping Nesha back to the present. She'd been getting worked up remembering that time with Lawrence, but she'd have no relief anytime soon. She had no time. Her life was being a single mom and working at the bank. Everything else had to take a back seat until...until when? She didn't have an answer. The best years of her life were being spent treading water. With a sigh, she turned off her car's ignition and went into the bank.

  Nesha watched as a man carrying flowers came into the office. They must be for one of the personal investment bankers, she thought with more than a little jealousy. They often got flowers when their clients' portfolios had a good run. She was confused when the flower man spoke to the security guard, who then pointed him at Nesha.

  "Hi, Nesha Miller? These are for you,” the young man said, handing her the flowers over the bank counter.

  She was so bewildered that she missed the man's first two requests for a signature on his receipt. Embarrassed, she scribbled her name on his form and took her copy. Her eyes went back to the bouquet.

  A dozen longstem roses towered out of a gorgeous cut glass vase. The petals were a divine shade of red, with a hint of purple. She bent forward and pressed her nose into one and inhaled. She closed her eyes and was a million miles away. An ache in her feet brought her back to reality. Looking down, she noticed the fatigue mat she normally stood on was gone. So were the other ones in the other bank teller stalls.

  She picked up her handset and dialed the branch manager.

  “Good morning, this is Harold.”

  “Hi Harold, it’s Nesha. I came in this morning and I can’t find the fatigue mat I normally stand on.” Nesha looked around her station again.

  “We had to remove that, Nesha. New policy at the bank.”

  Nesha frowned. “Why?”

  “They’re a tripping hazard. Our district manager sent a memo last night.”

  “I understand the whole safety first thing, Harold, but this mat really helped my feet and back.” Nesha hoped he heard the pleading in her voice. Maybe he would make an exception. The balls of her feet throbbed in protest.

  “Be that as it may, they’re no longer allowed at this bank.”

  “I understand. Bye, Harold.” Nesha hung up the phone in defeat. Her hand dipped to her lower back and she winced at the dull ache. Her eyes went back to the flowers and she decided that today would be a test of mind over matter. She turned the flowers around. A small envelope poked out of the bouquet which she hadn’t noticed before.

  Her heart skipped a beat. A note! Flowers were enough to get a gal excited, but she hadn’t been given a romantic note in a long time. Way too long, she decided. She took the lace fringed envelope in her hand. Her fingers played over the small waves embossed on the front.

  “Ahem,” a rail thin hipster girl coughed from the customer line. The eyes behind her thick black rimmed glasses were dull with boredom. In one hand she had a cellphone, in the other an opened envelope. She gestured with the phone in a way that told Nesha that it never left that hand. “I need to pay a bill.”

  “I’d be happy to help you. Did you need to draft a money order?” Smiling, Nesha put the small envelope back in the bouquet and gave the girl her full attention.

  “I don’t know what that is, but I need to pay this bill. See?” The girl unfolded her bill and pointed at it.

  “Did you need to withdraw money from an account to pay it?”

  “No, I just want to pay it. God!” The girl stabbed at the bill with her finger.

  “There are a few different ways to pay that bill, but you have to tell me which you’d like to do,” Nesha said quietly, maintaining her composure.

  “But I don’t know what those things mean. My dad has always paid this for me,” the girl whined.

  Nesha could tell this girl was close to losing it. Poor thing had no real world experience. Raised by the Internet and a never-ending line of credit from Daddy. Until now, that is. “Ok, how about we just pay it directly from your account? If you give me your account number we can wire the money to the company and pay the bill quickly.”

  “Fine, whatever!” the girl said, handing the bill she’d been holding to Nesha.

  Nesha politely looked it over before saying, “This is the bill, but we’ll need your bank account number.”

  The girl stood there, puzzled.

  “Your account number at this bank. Where your money is.”

  The hipster’s mouth slowly dropped.

  “You do have an account at this bank, right?” Nesha asked painfully.

  “This is so stupid!” The hipster girl snatched the bill from Nesha's hand and stormed out of the bank.

  Sighing, Nesha just shook her head and picked up the small embossed envelope. I bet it’s some kind of scam or something. I don’t know anyone who would do something this nice for me. She shoved the envelope back into the bouquet and tried to put it out of her mind.

  After coming back from her lunch break, Nesha noticed a blinking light on her phone. It was a voicemail from Harold, asking her to call him back ASAP. Perplexed she picked up the phone and dialed his extension.

  “This is Harold,” the voice said curtly.

  “Hey Harold, Nesha. Just returning your call. What can I do for you?”

  “Nesha, I just got off the phone with a customer, a Mr. Fullerton. He wanted to lodge a complaint against you.”

  “But Harold, I don’t…” Nesha started, but stopped as she recalled the name on the hipster girl’s bill. Damnit. “I’m guessing this is about his daughter?”

  “Yes, Nesha. Mr. Fullerton said his daughter was sobbing on the phone to him and very upset at the poor service she got from you.”

  “Now hold on Harold, I did my best with her-“

  “Your best is wantonly lacking, Nesha! He is going to withdraw seven figures worth of deposit accounts and investments he has at our bank. This is unacceptable. I’m dismissing you for the day.”

  Nesha's mouth quivered and her eyes welled up. Keep it together. Just keep your voice steady. Don’t give him the satisfaction! “Fine, Harold. I will see you tomorrow.” She hung up the phone and wiped her eyes. She picked up her purse and made for the employee exit. Halfway there, she stopped and walked back to her counter. She picked up the bouquet and walked out.

  Once she was in her car, she let the emotions roll over her. She didn’t have much, but she was good at her job. She teared up at being shamed by her boss. There was nothing I could do for her. Nesha was struck by the absurdity of the thought. It wasn’t like her old job as a trauma nurse. Back then those words meant someone had died. Now it meant some spoiled brat didn’t understand how basic banking worked. Laughing with tears in her eyes, she started up the car and pulled out of the driveway.

  At a stoplight, she realized she didn’t know what she’d do. She hadn’t had time off in a very long time. Her life had become her son and her work. There isn’t really any other way it co
uld be. I’m too old for adventures. Or was she? She reached down into the bouquet and took out the small envelope.

  Without hesitating, she opened it and pulled out the little card inside. It was a business card for the Soft Touch Spa. She flipped it over and the simple handwritten message said:

  All you desire.

  It took Nesha a few seconds before she registered the blaring of horns behind her. She went through the intersection and made a hasty turn towards the Soft Touch Spa. She needed to know what this was about.

  The Spa was a handsome brick one story building on a quiet residential street. A very small sign over the door was the only indicator this was a business at all. Nesha sat nervously in her car, not sure what to do. I should just go home and watch TV for five hours until the sitter brings Jesse home. I’m always wishing I had more time to catch up on my shows. No matter how much she watched, the DVR only seemed to get fuller. She turned the key in the ignition and put the car in drive.

  Looking down at the flowers, she put the car back into park and took the key out of the ignition. The universe had put these events in place, and it was time to trust it. Spa card in hand, she walked up to the front door.

  She went to open the large wooden door but it didn’t budge. She checked the front door for hours or any sign it might be closed. There was nothing there, nor was there a doorbell or intercom. Flustered, she knocked on the door, embarrassment creeping over her. This was beginning to look more and more like a practical joke at her expense.

  Feeling dejected, she turned around and started to walk back to her car. Behind her, she heard the large door open. A deep male voice called out to her, “Hello?”

  She turned around and saw a tall guy leaning out of the open door. His blonde hair had that careless look that betrayed careful styling. His blue eyes quickly took her in from the shoes up until he locked eyes with her. His big smile touched his eyes and Nesha realized she was content to just stare at him.

  “Can I do something for you?” He was wearing a pristine white terrycloth cotton robe, the top showing a broad defined chest. He opened the door a bit more and Nesha caught a glimpse of leg as the robe was brushed to the side.

  “Umm, I…this is going to sound really stupid. I got a bouquet of flowers and inside it was a card from this spa. But this isn’t me. I don’t really do things like this,” Rambling, Nesha turned away. “I should just go.”

  “Could I see the card?” he asked humbly.

  Nesha walked back to the door and handed him the card. He quickly turned it over and his eyebrows rose. “Very well Ms. Miller. Please come right in.”

  “How did you know my name?” Nesha asked, confused.

  “You’re our honored guest. Please come in,” he gestured towards the door.

  Nesha walked into the spa and the man closed the door behind them. Dark hardwood floors and beams overhead gave the place a cozy relaxing atmosphere. Jasmine and sandalwood floated around the cool room. Several hallways and rooms branched off this central entrance. Nesha could hear a fountain trickling water somewhere. An elegant table was positioned in front of the door, with a pen and ledger.

  The man walked past Nesha and sat at the table. He opened the ledger to the first page, and Nesha could see that it was completely blank. He wrote the initials “D M” on the first line of the ledger and closed it. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready for what?” Nesha asked, looking around for some kind of brochure or price board.

  “Nesha, the card was very explicit.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you ready?”

  Biting her lip, Nesha felt her head nod. What am I doing? This isn’t me! She felt a rush of excitement go through her, a feeling she’d long forgotten. A feeling from a former life, it seemed. A feeling from back when she was alive, eager for new experiences and challenges.

  The man smiled and stood, extending his hand towards her. “My name is Christopher. Let me welcome you to the Soft Touch Spa. I’ll be your guide through our facilities today, and later we’ll be joined by Michael.”

  She took his hand and lingered there, enjoying his gentle strength, like a statue that could bend iron but wouldn’t. She felt like the southern belles in the stories she’d read late at night, the ones who swoon and “get the vapors.” She hadn’t been around a man who made her feel like this in a very long time. The way her small dark hand lay in his strong white hand made things stir between her legs. She’d always had a thing for the swirl, and not enough opportunities to indulge.

  “If you go down this hallway, you’ll find the changing room on your left. Please change into one of the robes you’ll find and use any locker you wish to stow your property. You’ll be our only guest today.” Christopher pointed down the hallway. “Come back here when you’re ready.”

  Nesha looked down at the white robe that adorned her body. It was actually quite flattering, generously accentuating her bust. She found a full length mirror along one wall of the changing room and did a fun little spin. Twirling, the bottom of the robe floated up scandalously high, and she pushed it down in feigned modesty. Her ass could put a stripper to shame and she was happy to see the robe stretch to contain it.

  Leaving her clothes and things in a locker, she walked out into the hallway to experience “all she desired”. She had quite a few desires she’d love to fulfill with Christopher, but that will have to wait until tonight with her dildo. Maybe on the way home I’ll stop and get some jasmine and sandalwood scented candles!

  Christopher waited for her down the hall, his back to a door. She sauntered up to him, a lightness in her step. The faint water fountain sound was louder now. She looked up at him, eyes as sultry as she could muster. “Which of my desires are we addressing first?”

  Without speaking, he took her hand and opened the door behind him. He led her into the room. Along the far wall a sheet of water flowed continuously down, giving the room a refreshing mistiness. A large driftwood sculpture was in the center of the room, low and wide. A small stool was the only other furnishing in the room. Christopher gestured toward the sculpture. “Please sit.”

  “Ohhh…” Nesha said, a little embarrassed. She saw now that it was a chair, though only because she was invited to sit on it. She sat down, making sure to cinch her robe to prevent any further embarrassment. Her arms rested against driftwood branches arcing out from the main body.

  Christopher went to a wall and pressed a panel, which popped open. He took a belt with several small pouches and wrapped it around his waist. He opened clay pots in the alcove and put various things into the belt pouches. Once that was done, he closed the alcove and came back to Nesha.

  Nesha tensed as he approached. It’s been so long since a man has touched me beyond a simple handshake or friendly hug. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t a bad person, she was allowed to experience pleasure in the touch of another. These circumstances still confused her but she was resolved to look at the unknown as an opportunity, not a danger.

  Christopher sat down on the stool next to her and dipped a hand into one of the pouches at his hip. His other hand he placed in Nesha's and held it. His skin was warm and smooth, which she expected from someone whose profession was to touch others. But the way he held her hand, pressed palm to palm, was…intimate. She felt foolish, and normally she’d chide herself. Of course this tall handsome Adonis didn’t have feelings for her. But that was the old Nesha. The new Nesha would go along for the ride. And so she did. All the tension she’d been holding disappeared.

  “Wow, you’re totally relaxed,” Christopher said, his other hand closing on top of Nesha's. He slowly massaged the pink sea salt from the pouch all over Nesha's hand. “This is a light abrasive and exfoliant. Our hands can become insensitive over time, so this helps to wake them up.”