Neon Burn

by Kasia Fox

  Thanks to who, Tessa thought. She sat at the table and stared the tarry depths of the mug. The fight with Cal was still crowding out all her other thoughts. Infatuation left one drained and too miserable for regular conversation.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I feel awful.”

  “Hungover, eh?” He smiled, misunderstanding. “I’m glad you’re okay otherwise. You’re a grown up so I shouldn’t worry. But you don’t want to know the things I’ve seen in my line of work.” He paused. “Spare me the details, but if anyone took advantage of you–”

  “Nothing happened,” Tessa said quickly. “I can handle myself even if I can’t handle my alcohol.”

  “I know I’ve got no right to try to act like the tough guy dad, not after all these years.” His eyebrows came together as he studied her face. This man is your father, she thought. How bizarre. When would this feel normal? She cleared her throat and felt her neck get hot knowing what she was going to bring up.

  “The thing with the lap dance –”

  Ron raised a palm up to her like a crossing guard. “That’s on Berk. That’s her idea of a joke. Funny gal, huh? Don’t worry. We had a talk. She’s back on leash now.”

  Tessa cringed at his choice of words. “Well, at the end of the day, it’s sweet of you to worry,” she said.

  “It wasn’t sweet when he yelled at me last night for losing you,” Berkley said on her way into the kitchen. She looked dehydrated and crabby.

  “I’m sorry. We had such a fun day.” A flash from the strip club: The blond dancer’s hands on her, Berkley watching both of them. Tessa blinked rapidly, as if to erase the memory. “Thanks for everything, Berkley. But from now on if we go out, you don’t need to watch me,” she said.

  “Sure. Whatever.” Berkley yanked open the fridge. She pulled out a bottle of water, cracked the lid and walked out of the room chugging it. Tessa excused herself, telling Ron she was still tired. Once the bedroom door was locked behind her, the first thing she did was take off the dress. It dropped to the floor and she kicked it into the closet and out of sight. Tessa collapsed on the bed. She bunched the pillow around her face. Her whole life she’d strived to be perfect and for the most part, she had been. Here in Las Vegas, on the cusp of true adulthood, she kept screwing up. A text came in from Dev, something about leaving a message for the super about the guy doing work on her apartment. She ignored the message.

  Flipping over, Tessa stared at the ceiling and thought about Cal carrying her out of the nightclub. The kiss. The force of her desire was foreign. Undeniable. Desire had remade her into a dangerous version of her real self. A girl quick with mean comebacks, blurting out whatever came to her mind when she was offended. She covered her face with the pillow again at the thought of some of the things she’d said. Lily Paul, her saintly mother, had predicated all of it. She’d known all along the grip one handsome man could have over her daughter. No more obsessing over Callum Quinn. For the remainder of her trip, Tessa needed to focus on her relationship with her dad. Yawning, she rolled to her side and closed her eyes. As she dozed, her thoughts no longer under her control, Cal appeared. His company’s billboard outside the strip club and something about – what? Other signs. The woman on the sidewalk holding a sign. Ron’s name. Berkley had said look, look up and then Tessa was gone, lost to sleep.

  Tessa didn’t know how long she’d been sleeping when a knock at the door woke her.

  “There’s something out here for you,” Ron said. “I think you’ll wanna see it.”

  Rubbing her eyes in the daylight, Tessa smelled the flowers before she saw them. The blooms in the arrangement were almost as large as the circumference of the round entry table. The glass vase overflowed with heavy pink peonies and ivory cabbage roses, tall pink snapdragons, lily of the valley and greenery trailing down from the vase.

  Tessa put her face to the roses. “So beautiful,” she murmured.

  Ron gave a low whistle. “Now I look like a chump if I don’t get something for Berk.”

  Tessa opened the card, though she already knew the sender.

  I regret everything about this morning, except that we were together.

  Don’t leave until we see each other again. Let me set things right.

  -- Cal

  She slid the card back into its tiny envelope. Did flowers change anything? If not, then why did she feel so happy?

  “Who sent these anyway? Your Romeo from last night?”

  For a moment she considered lying to Ron. Eventually Tessa said, “They’re from Callum Quinn. We ran into him again last night, when we went out.”

  Ron nodded, took the news in stride. “I see.”

  “I know he’s not your favorite person–”

  “Your business is your business, Tessa. I just don’t want you to get hurt. If he goes through women like he goes through business colleagues…”

  “Thank you. I’m really not worried about it.”

  “Hey, who knows. Quinn could be helpful to me. Maybe before you go you could set up a meeting for me? Our brands are very copacetic, if you know what I mean. Lots of crossover clientele. Guys like that, I pay them big money for appearances at my clubs. Bigger names than his.”

  “Sure.” Tessa bit her lip. “Maybe.”

  “Or not.”

  “No, no, it’s just that I’m not sure I’ll even see him again or—”

  “Enough said. You don’t owe me any explanations either.”

  Tessa toyed with the flower card in her hand. “That said.” She cleared her throat. “You know how on the first day I was here, you said I could ask you anything?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, last night, when we came to Peaches, there was this woman out there on the sidewalk, with this sign with your name on it but I couldn’t read it.”

  “My old pal Deb, yep.” He nodded, his expression grim.

  “What’s that about?”

  “Bible thumpers out for my hide, that’s what it’s about. There’s a rotating shift of ‘em outside all the strip joints in Vegas, protesting. You see them downtown too. Big signs. ‘Sinners repent or die.’ ‘Gamblers prepare to meet thy god.’ Wackos, all of ‘em, living in Vegas and calling it Sodom.” He caught himself, probably remembering the amount of time Tessa had spent in church. “No offense. I’m a Christian man myself.”

  Tessa shrugged off the comment. On the surface, his explanation seemed reasonable, yet something didn’t quite sit right. Tessa decided to put it out of her mind. When he suggested they get some lunch, she agreed.

  “On the way back you can pick up some flowers for Berkley,” she said.

  Ron wanted to go to a Greek restaurant on the west side of town. When they got in the car, he said Berkley had gone back to bed in to sleep off her hangover.

  “You’re still young so you don’t get hit so hard as us old guys,” he said, steering out of Spanish Palms.

  “Never let Berkley hear you calling her an old guy.”

  “She knows she’s getting up there.”

  Tessa laughed. “How can you say that with a straight face? You’re, what, twenty years older than her?” Tessa was being generous; Ron was obviously in his sixties, though she could tell by the careful way he pomaded his grey and black hair, by the heavy cologne he wore and his freshly shaved face every morning that he hadn’t lost all his vanity.

  “Something like that.” He turned up the radio. Frank Sinatra was singing Put your dreams away for another day, I will take their place in your heart. He sang along.

  “Berkley is still young. Forty is the new thirty or whatever.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. Berk’s still a Vegas ten. Maybe a nine.” Ron turned to Tessa and laughed. “That makes her, what, a North Dakota one hundred?”

  Ron signaled and the car glided to the next lane. He drove the type of big luxury sedan that one would expect an older Italian man to drive. Compared to this big, comfortable car, driving her little Kia back home would feel like being dragged around in a child’s red w
agon. Money bought nice things, there was no doubt about that. Tessa worried that after being here for just a few days, so many extravagances would spoil her for regular life.

  When she didn’t laugh at his joke, Ron added, “Your mom was the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I saw her in that church that day.” He whistled along to the Frank Sinatra song. “She ever have anything good to say about me?”

  Tessa swallowed. “She didn’t talk about you at all. It’s like she was never married. I never even knew I lived here. It’s disorienting.”

  “I’ve wondered if she ever regretted running off. It wasn’t perfect, by no means. But… did she every keep anything from our time together?”

  “Not that I saw.”

  “So no mementoes, that type of thing? Something she hung onto from our time together? Like, this belonged to your dad and I. Or, this is something special from the past or…or…”

  “Not a wedding picture, nothing.” In a way, Tessa pitied Ron. Like her mother, he’d never remarried. Maybe the love they had at the beginning was so passionate it couldn’t be matched. More likely it was her second theory that was true – they’d scarred each other so badly they didn’t want to repeat their mistakes. “Sorry. She wasn’t forthcoming with her emotions, even with me.”

  “People like that, sometimes they write you a letter. ‘To be opened after my death’ that type of thing. To explain themselves. Say the sorts of things they couldn’t in life.”

  “I wish she had. Her inner life is basically a mystery to me.”

  “Ah, well. We were kids.” Ron exhaled. “Well, she was a kid. Mentally I was a kid. Still am.” The Frank Sinatra song ended. “Good night and sleep warm,” Sinatra said and an audience from another time clapped.

  Lunch was bright, lemony grilled octopus, feta-studded tomato and cucumber salad and chicken skewers. Tessa clutched her stomach and lamented that she’d been too tired for a run that morning. Ron said that was the reason he hadn’t gone for a run either. They laughed throughout the meal, discussing TV they liked and how things had changed in North Dakota since Ron lived there. He had a good sense of humor and a charm that was easy to miss if you got caught up on his beat-up mug. Tessa could see how he must’ve brought excitement to her mom’s life. She thought of Cal and the flowers. She didn’t have his phone number. Did he expect her to show up on his doorstep?

  On the drive home, he asked if there was anywhere else she wanted to go before he headed out to work. The fountains at Bellagio? Siegfried and Roy’s Secret garden to see the tigers? Tessa suggested a flower shop. Ron looked skeptical, scrunching up his face and bobbing his head from side to side, before he rejected the idea.

  “Thing is, Berk’s not a flower-type of girl. Not a romantic bone in her body.”

  Tessa’s next suggestion was a grocery store. “I don’t know how you people live without food in the house.”

  “We have champagne and vodka. That’s all Berkley needs,” he said.

  At the supermarket, using her own money, Tessa purchased food and a bottle of champagne. A peace offering. Soon after they returned, Ronnie left for work after telling her that Berkley had some work she had to catch up on and likely wouldn’t be out for some time.

  Once Tessa was alone again, the perfume of the flowers was a distraction. She wandered down to the entrance and inhaled the blossoms. She’d overreacted this morning, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t meant what she said. Even so, she longed to see Cal again. It was Sunday night. There was a good chance he was at home just down the street. She only had two more days left in her trip to Las Vegas.

  After rejecting the idea of going for a run taking a route that would, conveniently, pass directly by Cal’s house, Tessa decided to distract herself by making banana muffins. She looked up a recipe on her phone and assembled ingredients from what she’d bought at the store. She cracked an egg into a bowl and whisked in oil. The smell of peonies drifted down the hall. In between recipe steps she left to smell them.

  Coming back in the kitchen, her phone buzzed and she lunged for it. A text from an unknown 702 number. That was an apology, in case you couldn’t tell.

  A smile spread across her face. Cal must have gotten her number before he’d powered down her phone. No matter. She was glad he had it. Tessa stared at the text, enjoying his words. For far too long she stood there trying to compose a clever reply. Eventually she went with the simple truth: The most beautiful apology I’ve ever received. But not necessary. She jabbed the send button. She was searching the cupboards for a muffin tin and his reply came.

  And what about the other part?

  There’s nothing to set right, she wrote, after deciding against adding a smiley emoji. Too goofy. She sent the message as is and waited for the three dots. Nothing. Minutes passed. More nothing.

  She flipped the phone face down on the counter. If he didn’t write her back, that would be the best thing. Lust and obsession never made anyone’s life easier. If Cal didn’t write her back it would be the easiest possible worst thing to ever happen. More minutes. All of a sudden she was annoyed at herself for her coy replies. Why did she had to try to be clever and aloof when she could’ve just replied that she was sorry too? Why did she have to pretend to be so cool? Tessa had never been cool! Tessa slammed a cupboard. There were no stupid muffin tins in this whole stupid house! She was going to have to turn the muffins into banana bread and her banana bread always came out dry on the outside and raw on top. Tessa sat on the floor and covered her face with her hands.

  Buzz.

  She leapt up, grabbed her phone.

  He said: I want to see you tonight.

  Immediately she replied: I’m sorry about this morning. I want to see you too.

  After they made arrangements for Cal to pick her up that night, the evening was bathed in rosé. The banana bread came out of the oven golden and beautiful. The house smelled wonderful! Her flowers were so beautiful. Cal was so handsome! The dry desert climate was ideal for her hair! Ron was so nice! Berkley was so interesting!

  Tessa felt awful that Berkley was hiding in her room. The “work” she had to catch up on was an obvious excuse for avoiding Tessa. Yes, Berkley been weird yesterday, but she’d been drunk too. Even sober she had a quirky personality. Tessa didn’t want bad blood between them for the time she had left in Las Vegas.

  Throbbing music traveled to the kitchen from a hallway running to the west side of the house, opposite the rest of the bedrooms. When giving her a tour of the place, Ron had simply waved his hand in that direction and said there was a utility room and an office down there. Tessa followed the sounds down the hallway.

  “Berkley?” Tessa called, not wanting to startle her.

  The door was ajar. The room emitted a purple light and bass.

  “Berkley? I made banana bread if you want some,” Tessa said.

  A giggle inside the door. It sounded as if Berkley said, “Welcome.”

  “Berkley?” Tessa said, softer now. She pushed the door gently with her fingers. It swung open a few inches giving her a partial view of the room. The source of the purple light burning in the room was a neon sign on one wall. Her Special Place, it read.

  In the middle of the room was a bed which Berkley knelt on top of. From where she stood, Tessa was looking at her profile. She was topless, dressed in strappy baby blue g-string panties and sheer white knee socks with bows at the top. Berkley faced a huge computer monitor that sat on a dresser and reflected back a livestream video of the room. Of Berkley herself. A scrolling column of text ran down one side of the screen. “Thank you for coming,” she said in her low voice.

  Was she talking to Tessa? To the camera?

  Berkley lifted her breast to her mouth, her tongue flicking at the nipple.

  “You like that, Manny? Yeah?” she said, her voice shifting to a high pitched, girlish tone. One of her hands drifted down toward the waistband of her panties. “Mmhm, yes, I can do that. I want to do that.” He
r hands shot out suddenly and Berkley wagged a finger at the camera. “Ah, ah, ah, all I need … yes, good boy, Manny. You know what I like, baby.”

  Lying on the bed was a dildo, gleaming and chrome like a long silver bullet. Berkley picked it up and put it to her lips. She licked the shaft of it up and down.

  “You want me to feel good don’t you? You tell me when I’m allowed to put it in.”

  Berkley licked her fingers and slid them into her panties. She closed her eyes and moaned gently, collapsing on the bed as her fingers moved inside her. Whimpers from a body teased to its limits escaped from her open mouth. Her free hand caressed her breast. Tessa swallowed. This was web cam porn. Berkley was a cam girl. A college girl who’d made a lot of money this way had been featured on a daytime talk show Tessa had watched last year.

  Propping herself up on her elbows, Berkley begged the man at his computer at home to let her put the dildo inside her.

  “Ooooh, yes, thank you.” She moved the crotch of her panties aside and spread her legs for the camera. Even though she knew she should leave, Tessa switched her gaze from the real life Berkley to the monitor. It felt wrong. At the same time she knew that Berkley wanted Tess to watch. She’d summoned Tessa to the room like a siren.

  Pushing the shaft of the dildo between her parted lips, Berkley let out a loud, low moan of ecstasy. In and out she thrusted the silver shaft, her body bucking, her cries increasing in length and volume until finally she collapsed back on the silky sheets. As if in a state of total exhaustion, her head fell backwards and hung over the side of the bed, her long hair grazing the ground. Berkley opened her eyes and looked directly at Tessa. Tessa did not move. Smiling wickedly, Berkley brought the silver vibrator to her mouth and sucked it, releasing it from her lips with a pop that echoed in Tessa’s head as she fled down the hall.

  ✽✽✽

  Remember when Princess Diana did that interview with the black liner circling her big, sad blue eyes? She said, “There were three of us in this marriage, so it got a bit crowded.” How many were in my marriage? Ten? Twenty? Might as well be infinity.