by C. C. Koen
“But…look at me.” I waved my hand up and down my body. Why would he choose me over the other women?
“I told you when we met. You got it, girl.” She shrugged one shoulder. “You’re hired and have something no one else does. So don’t worry about it. Besides, Linc’s a nice guy. He’ll take good care of you.”
Adele’s “Rumour Has It” played from somewhere in the room. Mylaynee answered the call. A few seconds later she returned to my side. “We need to get to Forté. I’ll drive.”
From what I’d heard about the store, celebrities jetted there to purchase casual, business, or evening wear. They had on-site seamstresses and tailors catering to every whim. Custom-made clothing designed from scratch within a forty-eight hour period guaranteed.
Yesterday Goodwill, today Forté. Amazing how fast a person’s life could change with one decision.
Mylaynee rushed into the store like she owned the place. A woman, about two feet shorter than me with gray hair and wearing a dark blue suit approached us with a huge grin and engulfed her in a hug.
“Mylaynee, my favorite customer, it’s good to see you, dear. I have those new designs you ordered in the back, I’ll get them for you.”
“Liza, this is Serena.” Mylaynee turned toward me and nudged me forward. “Linc sent her. You get to spoil her rotten.”
I extended my hand, but the small woman surprised me when she hugged me too. Tears sprung to my eyes at the welcoming embrace. Her height and tender smile reminded me of Gram. God, I missed her so much. Before Liza released me, I wiped the corner of my eye, hoping neither woman saw the emotion on my face.
She pulled back and observed me head to toe. “You’re gorgeous. I have so many dresses that will look wonderful on your tall frame. Have you done any modeling?”
“No, my gram’s friends used to tell me I should, but…” My voice drifted off and I looked away, memories choking me once again.
She grasped my hand, holding it tight. “Let’s get you in the back and have the girls make a fuss over you. They like that.” She laughed and pulled me along. I glanced at Mylaynee, trailing behind me with a huge grin on her face.
“Smile,” she mouthed.
When I turned back around, we had entered a large room with gold couches on the left and right. In the center sat a raised round platform and behind it a mirror that extended from ceiling to floor.
Good grief.
Mylaynee plopped down on a sofa, stretching her legs in front of her like she planned to be here a while.
Great, just great.
A lady with a clipboard in hand pressed a buzzer and within seconds another woman brought out drinks and finger foods on a silver cart.
You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. Ugh! This was all too much.
Two women entered the room. Both looked younger than me, dressed in gold silk tops and black pants. They could be twins and wore similar, professional expressions that said, “Let’s do this.” Moments later with arms full of clothes, they rushed off to a room behind Mylaynee. I watched it all unfold like the movie, Pretty Woman. Ready to pinch myself to make sure I hadn’t been magically transported to the set.
A loud clap broke me out of my trance. “Okay everyone. This is Serena. Lincoln sent her to us. She gets a complete wardrobe. Tricia and Katrina, keep the clothes coming including undergarments, shoes, everything.”
The twins nodded.
“I’ll help her get dressed. The rest of you know what to do.”
They all smiled.
Liza ushered me into a gold-draped dressing room with a couch and dresses galore hanging everywhere. An antique mirror positioned in the corner and classical music filled the small space—tranquil and regal at the same time.
“Serena,” Liza’s voice jolted me. “This may seem a little overwhelming, but we’ll take good care of you.” She squeezed my arm. “Have fun, enjoy it. It’s nice to get all dolled up.” Her sweet smile made my heart pinch, but I returned the gesture.
“Thank you, for everything,” I whispered.
“It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
Like a hidden message, I could hear Gram’s voice as she said those exact words to me the last three years of her precious life. A huge lump formed in my throat.
Goodness, why were these memories hitting me now?
I sucked in a shuddered breath and looked down at my twisting hands, getting control so I didn’t make an idiot of myself in front of complete strangers.
A dark green dress shimmered in front of me. Thick wide straps darted to a sweetheart neckline. A thin, diamond chain hung around the middle. The length might sit a little above the knee, but I couldn’t tell for sure until I put it on. It looked…modest.
Huh, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Then Liza flipped it around.
My mouth fell open.
The material scooped way down and would no doubt dip to my ass. I guess I should be grateful that wasn’t the front.
“That is the back, right?”
Liza laughed. “It’s going to look amazing with your hair and skin color. Just wait and see. Come on, let’s get you in it.”
I didn’t look in the dressing room mirror after we slipped it on. Instead I kept staring at the silvery mesh stilettos, hoping I didn’t trip on the way out.
“It fits you perfectly, dear. Go out to the platform and let Maria and Kara take a look. They’re the seamstresses and have a great eye. I’m sure they’ll agree though.”
When I entered the room, all eyes darted my way. A chorus of gasps and sighs could be heard throughout the space. One step onto the platform, and I still hadn’t looked in the mirror. Chicken.
Mylaynee rushed up to me, clasping my hand in hers. “Damn, girl. That color is stunning on you. I got chills. Imagine what Linc will do when he sees you.”
I giggled, and my nerves settled a bit.
Behind me, the seamstresses murmured to each other, tugging and adjusting the fabric.
I winked at Mylaynee. “Thanks.”
“On our way home, I’ll pick up an oxygen mask and a defibrillator for Linc.”
The room swelled with laughter, and the remainder of the afternoon passed by with light-hearted banter as I tried on one outfit after another, complete with shoes and the sexiest lingerie I’d ever seen.
The ladies treated me like a princess.
All the while the little voice in my head countered, “Fool.”
Promptly at six, I entered the lounge. The enormous room must run the entire length of the building. Walls painted the same platinum color as Linc’s office gave it a chic vibe. When I got to the bar in the back corner, an interesting feature caught my attention. Rather than a wood top, a crystal cover edged in a crisscross pattern provided an unobstructed view of broken liquor bottles, all different sizes and colors scattered on a mirrored base. An amazing serving area and unlike any I’d seen before, the “L” design had to be near thirty foot long and seemed tiny in this large gathering space.
No one else here yet, I decided to get acclimated with the liquor. My former catering job trained and rotated employees from serving tables to tending bar. That way, if anyone ever called off they’d be covered. Since I preferred serving food, I often chose it when they needed a replacement. Either way, the skills would come in handy.
A voice cleared from behind me. I turned around, and the little bit of confidence I’d stored throughout the day took a nosedive.
“I’m B.B. and this is Fallon,” she introduced in a sing-song voice as we shook hands. “You must be Serena, nice to meet you.”
“I was taking a look around. I hope you don’t mind.” Even in the amazing Forté green dress, which accentuated my favorite features, these women made me look like an Oompa Loompa.
“No, it’s fine. Let’s get started,” B.B. said. A classic blonde that could be a modern-day pin-up, she had wavy white-blonde hair that cascaded to her hips. A stark contrast to Fallon standing next to her with auburn locks and a s
ide bang that draped over her left eye. Fallon and I both towered over B.B., who couldn’t be more than five foot five in her stilettos.
The hour went by fast as we discussed various routines, cut garnishes, stocked shelves, and cleaned tables. At seven the doors opened and gorgeous women of all shapes and sizes filled the room. Their scantily clothed bodies on full display, delighting the men following close behind. The clients seemed to range in age from mid-twenties to a refined seventy. Most good- looking and well-dressed, typical white-collar type. But if they paid the prices Mylaynee mentioned, they must be higher up on the corporate chain, or whatever income ladder qualified them to be here.
Similar to other company events, people danced and gathered in groups, talking above the rapid beating rock music. Except in this place, hands roamed all over bodies, and PDA didn’t happen behind closed doors. Hmm, so sex clubs did exist beyond the pages of a book.
B.B. worked alongside me a while. When I handled each order without making any mistakes, she told me to grab her if I needed help and skirted off to the other end of the bar. The three of us covered the constant orders without delay and worked well together.
Ducked into a bottom cabinet, I reached for a whiskey bottle. At that moment a large hand swept the exposed skin along my spine and gripped me around the neck. I bolted upright and came face to face with Linc.
“Nice dress.” His gaze dropped to my lips and lower. He snagged the diamond chain belt and reeled me into him. “How’s it going?” His devilish baritone zinged along my nerves. In a lazy caress, he rubbed his thumb on the silk dress, lengthways along my hipbone.
Even in a crowded room consumed with perfume and cologne, his bold scent took hold and I got lost in his shimmering blue eyes. It took me several seconds before I responded with a husky “Fine,” but it probably came out a gurgle as saliva pooled in my mouth. Yep, real smooth, Serena.
Taking a step back from him, I bumped into the counter. A comical grin spread across his face. That got my head back in the game and I crooned with sugary sweetness, “Can I get you a drink, boss?” I matched his smirk with one of my own. The man intrigued the heck out of me.
“Serena,” he said, coughing through a chuckle.
What’s so funny?
B.B. bumped her shoulder into mine, butting between us. “Can I get you anything, Linc?” she purred.
Oh, boy. I dashed off and kept myself busy with customers. A while later with a couple minutes of downtime, I surveyed the scene. One of my favorite things to do—people watch.
Several clients tugged and brushed Fallon’s bangs from her brow, flashing overconfident smiles. I guess when presented with a sure thing, it increased assurances. Men were so easy. No wonder history had dozens of countries falling at the hands of a woman.
B.B., however, compelled the entire room. Men tracked her every step, as if pulled by a magnetic field. I guess it helped that her dress had a gigantic slit down the front. Every move resulted in an eyeful of her overabundant, double-D breasts.
Dang, she made me look so—blah. Ugh.
Mylaynee waved at me from across the room. The blond guy I saw her with at the fundraiser stood at her side again. He stared at me and then whispered in her ear. She shook her head and punched him in the arm. Ha! She smacked him like a brother. Interesting. I’d have to ask her about him sometime.
At least five men hovered around the fifty plus women in attendance. Throughout the evening, clients gave me drink orders but didn’t say anything else. Granted I had no clue when it came to men, but I didn’t get a lame pick-up line, a flexing muscle, or even a flashing grin. Nada. Not one illicit remark. It wasn’t the reaction I expected.
Fallon tapped me on the shoulder, mouthing “break” over the blaring music and pointed toward a hallway. Earlier she’d showed me an adjoining room with several small sofas and tables, and an employee lounge that didn’t have loud tunes playing, making it a good place to relax. Dropping into a comfy club chair wide enough for two linebackers, I kicked off a stiletto and propped my foot on a knee, massaging it. Ah, the blood began to circulate, but pain lingered and pulsed around my ankle. Not used to wearing heels while serving, the numbness built throughout the night. The little reprieve felt good.
About to switch to the other foot, the door opened and Linc strutted in, glimpsing down at my hands. Hopping up, I lost my balance in only one heel. His firm grasp on my shoulders kept me from falling flat on my face. “Whoa, steady there.”
My death grip on his arm increased as I hobbled on one foot. “Sorry,” I mumbled, scooping my shoe off the floor and putting it back on.
B.B. stormed in, catching us in an unintentional embrace. She glared at me, announcing, “A client needs you, Linc.”
Another smarty-pants grin on his face, he buckled the shoe strap I hadn’t noticed was undone and left. Yeah, I made quite the stupid impression for sure. If I wasn’t under so much pressure to do a good job, I’d laugh at myself too. My goal had been to get through the night without doing something wrong and Linc firing me. So far the awkward moments, although embarrassing, could be fluffed off. But B.B.’s pinched lips and scowl indicated my semi-optimistic outlook might be taking a turn—for the worst. Hands on her hips she ordered, “Don’t take too long. It’s busy and we need help.” A slamming door followed her on the way out.
Okay.
In the hallway leading back to the bar, I focused on the monstrous heels that only a man would have invented. Out of nowhere, a sweaty hand grabbed my upper arm and dragged me into a dark alcove. I wobbled on my unsure feet as a man launched a full-body press, slamming my back against a cold wall. His heavy panting sent a bitter stench up my nose. Ew.
My hands fisted, and I shoved his chest, but his hefty body didn’t budge. Fear hit me, twisting my stomach in knots and locking me in place.
“I’ve been watching you all night, hoping I’d get you alone. We’re going to have some fun, you and me. Right here.”
He’d hit two points on a Breathalyzer if tested. Just my luck, the one person to approach me for sex was wasted. I turned my face away, taking a gulp of semi-fresh air and attempted to think of a way out of this. Damn, if I had experience I’d know what to say. Come on, Serena, think of something.
“How about we go back to the bar. I’ll buy you a drink?” A raspy, sexy response came out as bile rose in my throat. I hoped the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants method worked, because I wanted the heck out of this position and ill-fitting nook.
He captured my wrists and twisted, smashing them against the wall. Our bodies sealed together chest to knee. “You want it. I tip real well.” His hard shaft shoved forward, he rubbed up and down between my clenched thighs.
Oh, gross.
“Get off her. Now.” Linc’s bellowing growl made me jump.
The inebriated fool paid no attention. He bent his head back and laughed, blowing fumes up my nostrils that could get me drunk.
Linc’s stranglehold on the guy’s barely-there neck unleashed a squeal so high he could’ve alerted a neighborhood fifty miles away. His hands dropped from mine when Linc hurled him backward, pitching him at least ten feet. His unsteady body hit a wall and smashed face down.
Ouch.
Mesmerized by the crumpled man, I flinched when feather-light fingertips brushed my face from temple to chin and settled on my neck. Transfixed in Linc’s searching eyes, I murmured a hollow and head spinning “Hi.”
He rubbed my arms, up and down, the warmth lessening shivers I couldn’t control. “You okay?” he whispered.
Reality set in and I grabbed his elbows, pulling him against me. My cheek lying on his shoulder, I sucked in a deep breath, inhaling his natural fragrance and calming my heart- pounding nerves. He drew me into a reassuring hug and rocked me in a gentle sway. “You want to go back to my apartment? You could lie down and relax.”
I squeezed his waist and looked up at him. “Thank you…for helping me.”
He held my face in his hands and announced, “You
don’t need to worry about him or that happening again. I’ll make sure of it.”
Comfort needed wherever I could find it, I leaned against him and dropped my forehead to his chin. Thoughts of what could have happened in this dark alcove had me swallowing several times and willing a blood-rushing headache to go away.
His fingers kneaded my shoulders as he murmured, “I promise, no one will bother you again.” The sincerity and gentleness in his voice eased some of my anxiety. “Come on, I’ll walk you to my apartment.” He took a step sideways, but I gripped his arms, stopping him.
The dim space made it difficult to see his concerned face, but I studied it anyway. “I’m not gonna leave the girls short-handed. I’ll be okay.” To lighten the mood I said with a forced smile, “Besides it’s my first night. I don’t want to disappoint my boss.”
He stroked a thumb across my cheek and examined my better-be-disguised-face. “You sure? It’s okay to call it a night.”
I shook my head and stood up straighter, determined to show him I could handle this job. “No, thank you though.”
He linked our fingers together in a sure and comforting grip, and escorted me back to a jam-packed bar. Two hours from close, I jumped in and put on the performance of my life. My personal, protective shadow never out of sight.
Flames flickering in the fireplace mesmerized me. A glass of red wine in hand, I twirled it while resting my head along the couch. After an exhausting evening, Linc led me to his apartment. Radiant heat from the fire warmed my feet propped up on the couch, creating a cozy atmosphere and a comfortable place to collapse.
Without much thought given to the drunk or the fact I hadn’t seen him again, the evening flew by. The rote method of taking orders, preparing drinks, and serving one person after another kept my mind occupied. Now that I had a chance to think about it, the whole thing happened so fast. A year of self-defense training in high school didn’t make a bit of difference. What an idiot. I could have handled it so much better. I should have laid him flat on his ass. The number of times I’d done that in class couldn’t be counted.
