Struck By You: Players

by I. M. Hicks

  The place was spotless, the tables were marble, the chairs were leather with armrests, and the women were extraordinary. Even the waitresses were gorgeous and friendly.

  “Gotta hand it to Carl, this place is above and beyond my expectations,” said my brother as he watched the girls dancing on the stage.

  “I agree,” I replied. I kept looking around to see if I could spot her but she was nowhere, which made me believe she was a feature attraction and I would soon see her on the stage.

  After about an hour of debauchery and watching countless women on the stage, I decided to head to the bathroom. They were located down a long dark hallway near the main bar. The place was busy and there were security guards everywhere watching everyone’s every move. As I washed my hands, I heard the announcer call out the main the attraction of the night so I rushed out of the bathroom door. I was so preoccupied and rushed to get back that I bumped into a girl quite hard, pushing her onto the floor. I looked and I realized what I had done and to my horror, who I had bumped into.

  “Christ, in a hurry? Asshole!” she said, trying to hold on the wall to help herself up.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, holding her arm helping her to her feet in her very high stilettos. She looked at me and I saw the shock across her face – she must have been just as surprised as I was. “Are you okay?” I asked her, inspecting her to see if she was in any pain.

  “Yeah I’m fine. Better question is, what the fuck are you doing here, are you stalking me?” she asked. She was livid.

  I sighed. “Glad you’re okay and don’t flatter yourself sweetheart, my brother brought me here today. I had no idea what you did on the side – if I did, I wouldn’t have looked at you twice,” I said offering the same hostility.

  She smiled wryly. “So full of yourself and such a lousy performance,” she said and walked away back to the bar.

  Lousy? I’ve been called a lot of things but lousy never one of them. I never did things half-assed, always aiming to please, and I’m pretty damn sure I pleased the bitch yesterday. I was angry so I quickly walked back and looked for her among the crowd of topless waitresses and dancers walking around. Again, she was nowhere. I needed a shot of whisky to calm myself down so I went to main bar. I stood there, waiting for a bartender, still looking around the place to see if I could spot her.

  “ID please?” asked the female voice and I turned to look at her. She was looking at me intently with not a hint of a smile on her face.

  “What?” I asked, a bit confused.

  “ID, do you have one?” she asked and she was serious.

  “You’re a bartender?”

  She twisted her head slightly to the side, curling her lips into almost a smile.

  “You showed me your level of maturity; now I want to see some ID,” she continued.

  I reached for my wallet, and for some reason I was nervous as I pulled it out and showed it to her. She took it out of my hand and studied it. “What can I get you?” she exhaled, passing it back to me.

  I cleared my throat. “Uh, a shot of whiskey please,” I said.

  She walked away to grab the bottle, slammed the shot glass hard on the counter and poured my drink in front of me.

  “That will be fifteen, or I can tab it to your table,” she said.

  “Tanner Hayes, please.”

  She added it on the computer and walked away to serve another client.

  I stayed there waiting for her to come back and serve me again but she ignored me and let the other two bartenders serve me instead. So I decided to quit and went back to my table, or I’d get too drunk by the time the night was over.

  I went back to my table feeling like a complete asshole. I watched her from where I was sitting. She was very flirtatious with the clients and she had a flock of them sitting there, chatting her up.

  Suddenly I had a woman’s hand on my shoulder. “Do you want it right here or private, handsome?” the woman whispered in my ear. I looked up at to see a beautiful redhead in a white bikini.

  “My gift to you little bro, you seem stressed and who could blame you after sitting with dear old dad for two hours?” said my brother cheering me with his beer on hand.

  I looked at the bar again where she was working and this time she was looking back at me. I smiled. “Right here is fine,” I replied to the beautiful dancer who was about to give me a very expensive lap dance.

  Chapter 5

  I decided to have a “me” weekend. No dates, no friends, just me, my credit card and the mall. I don’t know why I was self-loathing over this thing with Mason. I’ve met some assholes in my life, but this one was one of a kind. I regretted everything from Thursday on and what bothered me the most was that I couldn’t take any of it back.

  So I decided to take a stroll through the Eaton Centre and buy myself a lot of things I didn’t need, and then I could feel guilty about those instead.

  I walked around and got myself a bunch of underwear, perfume, makeup and then I remembered my dad’s birthday was coming soon, so I decided to go into Harry Rosen to find him a sweater or something appropriate for the fall. A really good-looking sales man approached me. He looked close to my age, maybe a bit younger but in any case, he was hot.

  “I’m looking for something for my dad’s birthday, I was thinking a sweater or cardigan perhaps,” I said acting a little lost.

  “Not a problem ma’am, right this way please.”

  “Oh I’m Riley, not a ma’am,” I said. I hated that term.

  He looked back at me and smiled warmly.

  “Does he have a color preference?” he asked as he kept walking.

  “Not really, grey or black will do,” I replied.

  He showed me a few styles and I was purposely taking my time making a decision.

  “So I told you mine, what’s yours?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry?” he asked, a bit confused.

  “Your name, handsome,” I said smiling.

  “I’m Steve,” he said looking around the store. I assumed he was looking for his manager; I imagined chatting up the clients was a big no-no.

  “You working late, Steve?” I said getting closer to him.

  He put one hand in his pant pocket and ran the other through his curly brown hair. “Uh, no, I get off at six actually,” he whispered. I looked around the area and there was a man in a leather jacket standing with his back to us, looking through sport jackets.

  I smiled and moved even closer to him. “I think I’ll take these two, Steve,” I said, passing him two sweaters. “Call me,” I whispered in his ear while slipping my card in pant pocket and stepping back.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes ma’am,” he said after and took the sweaters to the cashier.

  There were two cashiers, a young blonde girl and a dark-haired girl who was helping the man in the leather jacket, who had a rather large pile of dress shirts and a couple of ties. After two customers in front of me, I was finally cashed out and I left the store.

  “I have to admit that was priceless,” said a familiar voice behind me. I turned around and the man in the leather jacket was none other than Mason.

  I turned forward and kept walking faster this time.

  “C’mon Riley, I’m sorry about last night, I was an asshole, I admit it,” he said catching up to me as I kept my fast pace.

  “Yes you were.”

  “You should have just told me you were a bartender, there’s no shame in that.”

  I stopped. “No there isn’t, and there’s no shame in being a stripper either. Most of those girls are decent and some even have kids; they do what they do because the money is good and they can.”

  “I have nothing against erotic dancers Riley, but you did damage my ego a bit on Thursday. I had every right to be mad,” he said looking into my eyes.

  “Okay, fine. Can I get about my day now?” I asked.

  “Let me take you out for dinner,” he said.

  “No,” I replied and began walking again.

&
nbsp; “Just dinner, just friends,” he insisted.

  “We’re nothing Mason. Other than you being one of my clients.”

  “Fine, a business dinner then.”

  “I have plans,” I said.

  “He’s not going to call you,” he said.

  “He will.”

  “A hundred bucks he doesn’t.”

  “What makes you so sure?” I asked. He was getting on my nerves already.

  “You’re too good for him, you caught him off guard and you came off a little too strong.”

  “No I didn’t, I gave him my number and told him to call me. Works every time,” I protested.

  “He won’t, trust me.”

  “Whatever,” I said and kept walking.

  “So come to dinner with me, I won’t take no for an answer,” he insisted.

  I sighed. “Fine. I didn’t bring my car, I walked here, so if we have to go anywhere, let’s make it close.” I was wearing strappy heels and my feet were already sore.

  “That’s okay, my car is close. I know a nice place in Greektown,” he said.

  “Fine, let’s go,” I sighed.

  We walked across the mall and made our way to the garage. Much to my surprise, he too was a car fiend. He owned a fairly new model of a black Dodge Charger V8 with a Hemi.

  “Interesting car,” I exhaled.

  “Yeah, and yours as well,” he smiled, opening the door for me. He took my bags and put them in his trunk. He sat down and put on a pair of Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses. I smiled.

  “And with the sunglasses, you complete the douchebag look,” I said mockingly.

  His cocky smile faded. “That’s not nice,” he said firing up the engine.

  “Never said I was,” I taunted.

  He screeched the tires and drove fast out of the parking lot.

  We were quiet most of the way through the city. It was almost uncomfortable – we barely knew each other but yet we had been intimate.

  “So,” I began, “you’re a lawyer.”

  “Not yet…well I am, I just don’t have a job yet, but I’ll find out next week if I make junior partner at my dad’s firm.”

  “What do you do for money then?”

  He started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure I want to tell you.”

  “I don’t care, I’m just making conversation.”

  He sighed. “My stepdad set up a trust fund for my brother and me until we got on our feet after graduation,” he said and I could tell he was embarrassed about it. So I didn’t make any comments.

  “See, I knew I shouldn’t have told you,” he remarked.

  “I didn’t say anything,” I protested.

  “But I know what you’re thinking,” he began. “You think I’m spoiled, privileged…I’ve heard it all,” he was clearly upset.

  “Mason, chill out, I’m no one to judge. I work for my sister at the spa and her husband got me the job at the club. I’ve never even been to an actual job interview. And I make a disgusting amount of money at both places and I work part-time.”

  He was quiet but still upset.

  “Where did you go to school?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “U of T.”

  “Oh me too!”

  “Really, what for?” he seemed surprised.

  I laughed, “I have a bachelor’s degree in Psychology – not a complete idiot.”

  “Never said you were. How come you’re not doing anything with it?”

  “Need a Masters to get a job. A decent-paying job anyway.”

  “So? What are you waiting for?” he asked.

  “Not sure I want to.”

  He looked at me surprised. “Mind me asking the reason?”

  “I’d rather not discuss,” I replied.

  “Is it money? I know it’s expensive, but my dad works with a lot of foundations willing to–”

  “No it’s not the money, my parents already offered to take care of it. I don’t want to talk about it and that’s final,” I said cutting him off.

  We drove in silence until we got to the restaurant.

  We were seated in a private booth and he ordered us a bottle of wine. He poured me a glass and leaned back in his seat watching me – almost making me nervous – as we waited for our waiter. I stared back at him until he broke and looked the other way.

  I took my phone out of my purse and checked for calls. It was after six, after all.

  “No calls yet huh?” he teased.

  I shook my head and put my phone down on the table, next to my wine glass.

  “Thursday was fun,” he said suddenly.

  I took a sip of my wine and smiled. “It was,” I agreed.

  “So you didn’t mean that lousy remark, did you?”

  I laughed and shook my head.

  “We can still finish what we started you know,” he said.

  “I thought you said this was a friendly business dinner,” I retorted.

  Just then the waiter came and took our order.

  Once he left, Mason began the staring game again.

  “So,” I said, “you seemed to have enjoyed yourself last night.”

  “It’s a classy place. That building belongs to my stepdad.”

  “Good for him,” I replied, not sure why he felt the need to tell me that. Was he trying to impress me?

  “Carl and your boss, I think his name is Paul? They came up with the concept,” he continued.

  “Yeah, my sister’s husband helped finance it,” I replied giving it right back to him. The truth was that Eric owned 15% of it.

  “You mean your brother-in-law is Eric Hudgens?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “My dad is his lawyer. Hayes Associates, you may have heard of them,” he said proudly.

  He was making me sick. I drank whatever was left over in my wine glass and excused myself to go to the bathroom.

  When I came back our food was served. He had poured me another glass of wine and I drank about half of it in one shot. I grabbed my fork and started eating.

  “Was it something I said?” he asked but I continued eating and drinking. “Riley, what’s up?” he asked.

  I calmed myself down a bit and smiled. “I’m fine,” “So whereabouts do you live, Mason?”

  “About five minutes from the spa. Carl owns most of that block, and I have a penthouse condo in one of the newer buildings,” he began. “In fact, he owns that building where the spa is located.”

  “So what do you do for fun aside from yoga and expensive strip bars?” I asked, trying to change the subject yet again.

  “Carl owns a villa in Spain, so we go there for a few weeks every year. He sends Tanner and me to Cuba and Mexico every winter and earlier this year he got us a trip to Amsterdam, which was my graduation present.”

  My phone rang just then. The name Steve J. was on call display, so I smiled and showed it to Mason. Then I picked up the call and took the phone with me outside so I could speak to him.

  When I returned to the table, our dishes had been cleared and a little dessert menu was in its place.

  Mason was sitting back with his arms crossed, staring at me as I sat down.

  “What?” I asked.

  “That was by far the rudest thing anyone has ever done to me,” he remarked, opening his dessert menu.

  “Somehow I doubt that,” I retorted, looking at mine. “You owe me a hundred dollars,” I said softly.

  He sighed. “So what did he say?” he asked.

  “I’m meeting him later tonight,” I said casually, not looking up at him.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  I looked at him. He was visibly angry and I smiled. “What, did you think I was going home with you?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and bit his lower lip. “Why not?” he asked despondently.

  “Do you ever hear yourself speak Mason? Everything you do and everything you are is your stepdad or your dad. I’m not su
re if you’re trying to impress me or throw it in my face that you come from money, and the truth is I really don’t care. I asked you what you do for fun, what did you say? ‘My stepdad owns a villa and he pays for my vacations.’ Do you really think that’s going to impress me enough to get me up to your penthouse your stepdad gave you?” “How about being real with me? Don’t treat me like your usual pickups because we are way passed that. I know what you are and you certainly know what I am. So tell me Mason, give me a good reason why I should blow Steve off for you tonight,” I said.

  He sat there staring at me, but didn’t say a word. Instead he grabbed his wallet and pulled out his Gold card.

  I laughed slightly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I said.

  “I already called a cab. I just need to grab my bags from your car,” I said putting the phone back in my purse and got ready to leave.

  He paid for our meal and we left the restaurant. We got outside, then he opened the trunk for me and let me take my bags. He waited outside his car until my cab came and as soon as I sat inside, Mason took off like a bat out of hell.

  Chapter 6

  Mason

  “Because I want you,” I said out loud as I drove way above the speed limit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why couldn’t I say that to her? I had the chance, I have no problem telling other women I want them, but not her. Why? Because she can see right through my bullshit, because we are so alike and I’ve never hated someone as much as I hate her right now.

  Then it dawned on me. She was me, she was a female version of me, but ruthless. Who picks up a call from another guy while you’re having dinner with another? Then she tells me straight up, she’s meeting him after dinner which I’m paying for.

  Suddenly it became clear what I had to do.

  Come Monday morning I would march into that spa and cancel my membership – I needed to stay far away from her and never ever step foot at The Palace.

  I spent the majority of Sunday in my condo. I had no desire to go outside; instead, I schemed and imagined how things would go down on Monday when I saw her.

  As soon as I walked in the lobby Monday morning, she was there standing next to the young girl at the front desk. She had her hair up in a bun, wore a light pink tank top and white yoga pants. She was eating an apple as she was reading a book. She looked like a damn angel.