Struck By You: Players

by I. M. Hicks

  PLAYERS

  Struck By You

  I.M. Hicks

  Copyright © 2014 I.M. Hicks

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  To my boys.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  i

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank the music that inspired me.

  Struck By You

  Chapter 1

  As soon as I walked in the studio and saw the look on Angie’s face, I knew that one, I was late, and two, Serena was angry and she was hiding in her office until after I finished my class so she could talk to me.

  “You have some new faces today,” said Angie as she handed me the microphone unit.

  “Great, Monday morning newbies,” I said sarcastically as I hooked the unit to the back of my yoga pants.

  “They’ve been patiently waiting,” said Angie. “Mrs. Carson already threatened to leave.”

  “I’m only five minutes late.” I sighed.

  “Late night at the club?” asked Angie.

  I smiled. “Didn’t work last night.”

  “Ah, what was his name?” she asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said and made my way to the studio.

  I walked quickly as I entered the large studio, didn’t bother looking at anyone as I could hear the whispering, the throat clearing, and the grunts. I started playing my usual soundtrack for Monday morning yoga and faced the crowd.

  All the usual suspects were there this morning with the exception of some new faces as Angie had pointed out. A new group of twenty-something girls at the front, bound to be close friends and joined the class together for moral support. An older lady, who would likely quit after the first class. A rather large woman at the very back. And, nearest to the door, a very tall, fit and good-looking man stood quietly chatting with Gloria, one of my regular yogis.

  “Sorry I’m late everyone,” I announced. “Hit some traffic this morning coming in.”

  “With all due respect Riley, it’s well after 10:00 a.m.,” said Mrs. Carson grinning at me, being the bitch she usually was. Mrs. Carson was a rich and bored widower whose sole purpose in life was to ruin my morning class. There was no point in arguing with the woman; the more you argued, the more worked up she got and it just wasn’t worth my time or the time of my other clients.

  “Like I said, my sincere apologies,” I replied. Before she could continue, I turned up the volume and started the class.

  My plan was to leave the studio quickly after class to avoid small talk – I wasn’t in the mood for it today since I barely got any sleep last night. I was about to go through the threshold of the door when…

  “Oh Riley!” yelled the familiar voice. Damn!

  “Yes Mrs. Carson?” I said turning around and bumped into new, tall and handsome. The man was beautiful. We were close in height, which would make him roughly 6’4”, gorgeous skin, wavy light brown hair, a little long on the top but nonetheless sexy, beautiful lips, strong. It actually almost hurt bumping into him as he was very muscular, and he smelled phenomenal; it was a cologne I’d never come across before. His piercing bright blue eyes stared at mine. “I’m sorry,” I said trying to go around him, but we were standing at the doorway and he had wickedly wide shoulders.

  After a few seconds of doorway dancing, he smiled widely with his matching perfect white teeth and moved to the side. “Ladies first,” he said in his masculine deep voice, which sent a jolt through my core. I stared at him as I walked through the door – he was eye candy alright, and not the healthy kind.

  “Riley, I just wanted to ask you if I could bring my niece to tomorrow’s class. She’s staying with me for a few days,” said Mrs. Carson waking me up from a temporary trance, completely ruining the moment.

  “Mrs. Carson, you need to discuss guests with Angie, that’s not my job,” I said.

  “Well you see, she’s only fifteen so I wasn’t sure if you would accept that,” she replied.

  I looked behind me to see if tall and dangerous was still there but he was gone and I couldn’t help my frustration with this woman.

  “Again, you need to speak to Angie,” I said turning to leave.

  “So is it okay?” she pressed.

  OMFG! “Yes, its fine,” I said sternly, trying to smile. Mrs. Carson smiled at me suspiciously and started talking to someone else.

  I made my escape and ran to reception where Angie was, so I could grab my bag and sneak into one of the private massage rooms to sleep for a bit before my next class.

  “So who was the flavor last night?” asked Angie. Angie was only nineteen, a high school graduate taking a couple of years off to join the workforce before starting university. She loved hearing about my dates and all the drama that unfolded at my other job.

  “Oh, just this guy I met at the bar a few days ago. We had a date, then he came over,” I replied winking.

  “Was he hot?” she asked. “What was his name?”

  “He was beautiful. His name was Tony something,” I began – couldn’t remember his last name, not that it mattered.

  “Are you going to see him again?” she asked innocently.

  I laughed. “You are such a naïve hopeless romantic and no darling, it was just a booty call,” I replied. Angie laughed nervously and I realized there was somebody standing behind the counter. Please, not Mrs. Carson.

  I heard a man’s throat clearing instead.

  “Yes, may I help you?” said Angie as my back was still turned.

  “Umm, yeah, uh, I would like to book a massage please,” said the familiar masculine deep voice.

  “Certainly, Mr. Hayes,” said Angie as she looked at the schedule in her computer.

  “That was probably one of the best yoga classes I’ve been to in a while,” he said. I turned around, hoping my face wasn’t red but judging by the way he was smiling at me, it was probably close to a fucking ripe tomato.

  “I’m glad you liked it,” I replied, doing my damn hardest to look at this gorgeous man in the eye, damning my big mouth.

  “I have an opening for Wednesday evening at 6:00 p.m., Mr. Hayes,” said Angie looking up from her screen.

  “Sounds good,” he said, taking the appointment card from her. “It was nice meeting you, Riley,” he said smiling at me as he was turning to leave.

  “Likewise,” I replied.

  As he was leaving, I realized Gloria, the petite and voluptuous redhead and my regular yogi, was waiting for him at the door. She smiled and blushed as he approached her. He put his hand in the small of her back and they left the building together.

  “Funny she never mentioned she had a guy,” I said casually.

  Gloria was a regular, one of my clients for over a year and we often chatted after class. Gloria, like myself, was 25; she worked as a concierge for the Fairmont Royal York Hotel, always the afternoon shift, lived with her best friend in an apartment, and had no pets. Her ex-boyfriend did a number on her after being together for over two years: he proposed to her and three months later, she found him in bed with her male cousin who was visiting her at the time.

  She still cried from time to time over him, and the last time was just
over a month ago when she found out he and her cousin were moving in together.

  “Well they didn’t come in together,” replied Angie. “He signed up as a trial guest this morning and Gloria was already in the studio,” she added.

  “Has he been here before?” I asked.

  “Not to my knowledge,” said Angie. “He wasn’t on the system…”

  “Riley, can I see you in my office please?” said Serena interrupting Angie.

  I rolled my eyes at Angie, grabbed my stuff and followed Serena. “Hello sis, how are ya?” I said as I sat down on the large brown leather couch in her office.

  She closed the door quietly, sat behind her desk and checked her phone. She always did that to make herself seem important.

  “What time does class start?” she asked, still looking at her phone.

  “Rena, I’m sorry, I hit traffic, and I barely got any sleep last night. But don’t worry, everything is cool with the clients, you know they love me and the class,” I reassured her.

  She put her phone down and smiled wickedly. “Was it that hunk you were telling me about on Saturday?” she asked.

  I laughed. “Yeah, he called yesterday morning. Took me out to a lovely French restaurant and we had dessert at my place,” I said, casually picking up the latest issue of Vogue sitting on the coffee table.

  “And?” asked Serena.

  “And what?” I looked up at her. “We had a nice time, that’s all.”

  “Seeing him again?”

  I smiled. “Not likely.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of that?” she began. “I mean, don’t you want something serious again?”

  “Why?” I shrugged my shoulders.

  She sighed. “I don’t know Riley,” she replied. “It’s been three years since Jason. Aren’t you tired of these meaningless whatever it is you have with these men you meet?” she asked sitting back on her chair.

  I looked at my older sister, put the Vogue down and smiled. “I’ve got to get some sleep before my next class sis. Mind if I use the Clarity Room?”

  She sighed. “Riley, all I’m saying is…I don’t know…maybe give someone a chance, get to know them, not every guy is like–”

  “Serena,” I said sternly, cutting her off before she mentioned his name again.

  “OK, just looking out for my little sister,” she replied. “Yes you may and please don’t be late again,” she said going back to her phone.

  My sister met her husband in her very early twenties and married him shortly after. Now at thirty, she and her husband have two kids. He is in finance, she owns a state-of-the-art wellness spa, and they are above and beyond happy. I know she means well, but I’m not like her – I’m not looking for commitment, a prince to sweep me off my feet, or someone to rescue me. I don’t get attached, and I don’t get hurt.

  Chapter 2

  Wednesday was supposed to be my day off from the spa but I got a call early in the morning from my frantic sister telling me that the 5 p.m. yoga instructor had called in sick and she had a full class with no one to cover it. I had to be at the bar at 7:00 tonight and I had a full shift till 2 a.m., which meant I had to shower, change, and drive to the bar directly from the spa and get something to eat on the way. As far as I was concerned she owed me huge for this.

  Serena approached me as soon as I walked in the lobby. “Can you come in tomorrow morning?” she asked.

  “I’m working till closing tonight Serena, I’ll be a wreck tomorrow and you know it,” I said putting my bag and garment bag away.

  “Please,” she pleaded with her big blue puppy-dog eyes, “I’ll give you a day off next week, paid.”

  I smiled. “OK, but I don’t want to hear it from you if I’m late and I want lunch at that fancy restaurant across the street, and you’re paying,” I said as I made my way to the studio.

  “Scoundrel!” she yelled and I gave her the finger.

  As soon as I walked in the studio I saw tall and handsome. He was in the middle of the room this time chatting up Stephanie, a petite brunette that I’d see from time to time at the spa. She was a pretty girl, outgoing, who smiled all the time. They seemed to be in deep conversation; she was definitely into him and listened attentively. She laughed and blushed once in a while, looking nervous and fidgety. He was cool and calm. The entire room was fairly quiet but you could barely hear what he was saying, yet she could hear every word.

  As soon as I started the music he looked directly at me and smiled. He had a wicked smile, bedroom eyes that were so blue and intense they would mesmerize anyone. He wore a fitted black tank top and grey sweat pants that accentuated every muscle in his body. His biceps were beautifully defined by his light golden tan and his hands large and strong. Stephanie couldn’t stop staring at him either along with every other woman in the studio – he was indeed a gorgeous creature.

  After class, I quickly made my way to the lobby to grab my stuff and put my microphone away. To my surprise, tall and handsome was already there talking to Angie.

  “Your massage is booked with Gwen Mr. Hayes, the Spirit Room is down the east corridor. Turn left on the first hallway and a right at the second. There will be sign at the door,” said Angie passing him a large bath towel.

  “Thank you,” he replied. “You said that was the Spirit Room?” he asked.

  “You can follow me, I’m going that way,” I piped in. I could tell he was confused. The spa was a huge building and it was a bit confusing to get around.

  “Serena said you were coming in tomorrow morning?” asked Angie.

  I sighed. “Unfortunately yes.”

  “I’ll give you a wakeup call around 7:30,” she said as I started making my way down the corridor.

  “I owe you!” I yelled.

  “This place is big and confusing and I promise you’ll never get used to it,” I said as I rapidly walked, while tall and handsome followed. He laughed. “You’ve worked here long?” he asked.

  “Since it opened, so three years now I guess.”

  He walked beside me now and wore the same cologne he wore on Monday when I bumped into him. It was subtle but at the same time it was overpowering, like him.

  “You seem to be in a hurry,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, I need to get changed and be at work by seven,” I said.

  “Late yoga classes at another gym?” he pressed on.

  “Not quite,” I said and smiled. I was not telling him where I worked.

  “You don’t want to tell me, I take it,” he said. “You work in a restaurant.”

  “Nope.”

  “Factory? Although you don’t strike me as the type.”

  I shook my head.

  “A waitress?”

  I stopped, looked into his eyes and smiled. “Your change room is right over there, Spirit Room is right behind you. Enjoy,” I said and began to walk away.

  “I will find out, you know,” he said. I laughed.

  “Highly doubt that,” I said and walked into the women’s changing room.

  There was no uniform for my side job. The only requirement my boss had was that it had to be skimpy, sexy and could sell liquor. I was a bartender at a prestigious high class gentlemen’s club, if such thing was even possible. But it was. The club was mainly for fat wallets, business types, celebrities, lawyers, politicians were. The bar had private VIP rooms, private booths, wait lists, exclusive guest lists, expensive booze and high priced women.

  My sister paid me well for my yoga gig. I worked three days a week at the spa and worked three nights at the bar. Have most of my days and Sundays off. I brought in enough money to pay for my downtown condo, my Camaro, bills and decent clothes. Some nights at the bar, I made more money than the strippers made themselves. I had a gift for flirting and it was where I met most of the men I dated.

  My outfit most nights was a very short leather miniskirt, a corset, black platform stilettos, heavy makeup, my hair up in a messy bun and a black lace choker with the club insignia on the pendant t
hat all the female servers and staff wore. It was tasteful, but I wouldn’t dare put it on until I got to the bar. I was always afraid someone would recognize it and be mistaken for something I’m not.

  I put on my beige trench coat and by six thirty, I was on my way out.

  As I quietly walked down the hall, I noticed the door to the Spirit Room was open. I stopped and looked at the reflection of the large wall mirror. Tall and dangerous was lying faced down while Gwen was working on his lower legs. He had nothing on but a towel covering his butt, his muscular arms folded and his hands under his face with his eyes closed. He was definitely in the zone – Gwen was amazing at what she did and the music alone made me relax just by standing there. I stood there, watching him sleep. There was something about him that reminded me of someone, and I felt it too on Monday when I bumped into him.

  Suddenly he opened his eyes and smiled; he saw me looking at him in the mirror and then it struck me, he had a bit of resemblance to my ex – the way he walked, smiled at me, looked at me, even his body and his voice. I hadn’t seen Jason in over three years but after two years together, he was hard to forget, especially after what he put me through. I stepped back and kept walking fast out of there.

  I felt so stupid on my drive to work. Now he’s going to think I have a thing for him like every other girl at the spa. The truth is I could bring him home if I wanted to, but there are certain rules I follow with the men I meet and sleep with. First and foremost, don’t ever sleep with anyone who reminds me of my ex.