by Ashley Beale
"Now, certain preferences do cost more. You're looking at three thousand for one hour with Mona on your first visit, same with your second, and if you're thinking that you're ready for the next phase by the third visit, it'll be four thousand six hundred." She continues about the rules and stipulations, what is expected of me as a client, and reasons to contact her. I listen to everything she has to say, agree to her terms, and sign all the documents required.
It's over an hour of my time that I'm in her office and am thankful once I hit the hot outdoors. I head to my office, driving a random route there just in case, then immediately meet with Chief to give him the information passed on to me from Kandy.
Chapter Seven
Brenna
The second Saturday of each month I get to go out and grab lunch with the one friend I actually have that isn't included in the same business as me. Hillarie was actually a waitress at a small local restaurant, Frizzle's. I used to go in nearly every day for lunch, and most days she waited on me. Before I was living in town even a month I told her I was looking for a place to live and she helped me find my condo. Within two months of living here, we found ourselves talking, connecting, and actually enjoying each other’s presence outside of her job.
After eight months of becoming friends she moved to Clearwater. Her mom got sick and needed Hillarie's help. It hurt more than I ever cared to admit when she left me, but we still keep in contact, which has helped. I've only gone to Clearwater once to visit her in the last two years, mainly because she actually wants to travel out this way- to see other old friends and such.
She knows what I do for a living and never once judged me for it. In fact, she said she envied me for having the confidence. Those were her words, not mine. I personally don't think it has anything to do with confidence. In fact, I'd say more the lack of. It's given me confidence over time, but that's not the reason I began.
It had a lot more to do with loneness, desperation, needs and wants, power. Control. My way of filling a void and getting away from the world I was forced to grow up in.
I pull into the parking lot of Applebee's and spot Hillarie's blue Nissan right off. She's standing next to it with her curly blonde hair and oversized sunglasses. I climb out of the car and give her a wave. She comes running over, platform heels and all. "Brennnn," she hollers as her arms wrap around me. "God, I've missed you."
"It's only been a month," I remind her with a laugh. "But I've missed you too."
She flashes her left hand in my direction, wiggling her fingers up and down. A gorgeous band of silver with a square diamond placed on top shimmers brilliantly. "What?" I gasp. Grabbing Hillarie's hand, I pull it forward to examine her gorgeous engagement ring more closely. "When did this happen?"
"Last week. It's been so hard keeping it from you, but I wanted to surprise you." Hillarie starts to cry a little as she takes her hand from mine and examines the ring herself. "It's so perfect, just like him."
"Him who? I didn't even know you were seeing someone." As excited as I am for her, we talk often enough that her dating someone is something I would have known- or at the very least, should have known. It terrifies me, even if just a little, that she's giving into someone so easily for the sake of a beautiful handcuff disguised to look like a diamond ring.
Together we make our way towards the entrance as Hillarie tells me about her fiancé named Travis.
"We met two months ago," she says, a bit of pink coloring her cheeks. I'm not sure if she's embarrassed that it took two whole months to tell me about him, or the fact that she knows two months isn't nearly long enough to dedicate a future with someone.
I don't interrupt though, as she tells me about how they met. "...and he has this huge yacht, which he took me out on for our first date. We got to watch whales out at sea, I even saw a shark. The sun was setting when he kissed me romantically. I could go on for hours telling you how amazing the entire date was, but I'm sure the love which exuberates between us would probably make you gag." She tries to make light of the situation, so to ease her guilt- or whatever it is- I simply smile along as she gushes a little more.
When we sit down at a table, I ask, "What are you thinking for a date?"
She bites down on her lip bashfully, a telltale sign of Hillarie's that she has some kind of nervous secret to gush about. "In the spring."
I want to yell at her. This is too soon! Don't do it, please! Give it time, Hillarie. Set a date in three years from now, that way you know he's the one for you. But I don't say a word of any of it. Instead, I slightly nod my head, trying to grin even though it's forced. "That's... great," I tell her.
I don't think she notices my hesitation on saying it, either that or she frankly doesn't give a fuck, because she nods her head heavily in excitement. "I know, it's all too surreal. I met my prince. I can't wait for you to meet him. You're going to love him, Brenn. I promise."
Her gushing gets interrupted by the waitress taking our drink orders. Whenever we go out to lunch, I always order a strawberry daiquiri and ask for them to keep coming. I never feel guilty about day drinking when I'm with Hillarie, because she does the same thing, and for the rest of the afternoon, we enjoy ourselves. It's Sunday morning that we'll both get hit back with reality- me with having no one in my life any longer, and Hillarie with having to drive all the way to Clearwater by herself.
"So what about you?" she asks when our drinks our served.
"What about me?"
"Anyone in your love life?" She sips on her cosmo as she waits for me to answer.
Of course there is no one for me, because we both know that I'm never crossing into the territory of relationships and love. "Money," I answer honestly.
Hillarie doesn't hide her eye roll. Although she doesn't judge me for my line of work, she does try to encourage me to make room for a boyfriend. No man in the world would be accepting of my career choice, and I'm not changing for a guy. It's not worth it. I know exactly how men are- cheating, lying, pompous assholes. Each and every single one of them. Just give them time and their true colors will show. I can't be brought in by kind words, hope for a beautiful future, and diamond rings. I can create my own happiness... and still get laid.
Crossing her arms, she rests them on the table and leans in. "You know I love and respect you, Brenna, but I want you to be happy."
"I am-"
"No. Truly happy. I don't want you to put on a facade, and I hate watching you lie to yourself. I'm one of your only friends. You never leave your place unless it's to work or shop. It's not... healthy."
"I'm fine," I reply coldly. The last person on earth I thought would try to pull me away from my life was Hillarie. I trusted her to know my story and leave it where it lays. I'm only thankful I didn't tell her anything about my parents. She asked... often... but I never allowed her in that much. For these reasons here. I was always scared one day she'd get to the point of not believing in me. Apparently a lot sooner than I predicted.
Taking her cosmopolitan, she sits back against the cushioned bench. "Sorry," she says before taking a long sip.
"Yeah, it's fine. I'm fine." Apparently those are the only words I can collaborate at the moment.
Our food gets served but I'm not all that hungry. Squirting a little ketchup on the side of my fries, I casually eat a few, only to occupy my time. My favorite day of the month has been ruined, and now I can't wait to get out of here.
Placing her drink on the table, Hillarie starts in on her grilled chicken salad. Obviously not upset like me, not that she has a reason to be. She finishes her food before half my fries are even gone. I never touched my chicken tenders. When the bill comes, she reaches for it.
"I can get my own," I remind her.
"I know." She places her card inside and sets the black folder on the end of the table for the waitress. "But I feel bad. I didn't want today to be like this, Bren. You're the sister I never had and I love getting to see you. I shouldn't have said anything. I just worry about you. I care for you. I
'm hoping for the day you wake to realize that this isn't a life style, it's a hobby that you need to hang up."
"Don't worry about me when you have your own issues." I reach for my phone, shoving it into my purse before pulling the straps over my shoulder. Sliding from the bench, I look over to see if Hillarie has anymore to add. When she doesn't say anything, I tell her, "Good luck with this... marriage. Thanks for lunch."
When I walk from the table, Hillarie yells my name out but I don't stop and I certainly don't turn around. I'm not surprised that when I reach my vehicle she hasn't come after me. I can't expect her to understand where I'm coming from or why I am the person I am. I only ever expected her to accept me as is. Instead she reminded me why I don't let people in.
Maybe, quite possibly, I'm over reacting, but the way I see it is, I closed my mouth when it came to her happiness, she can do the same with me. Why do I need a man to keep me happy? What is a relationship going to give me that I don't already have? It'll give me a full time career doing something I despise, children I don't want, a family that'll someday be separated, sex I already get, no more shopping sprees or random vacations when I deem fit, I’ll get cheated on and lied to. None of that is appealing to me. It isn't meant for me. If she wants to marry a random man because he has money, and be controlled for the rest of her future and entrapped by children, that is her prerogative. I wasn't going to argue her over it or even voice my concerns, so she should have respected me enough by not doing that to me.
*~*~*
The rest of the afternoon is spent resting on the beach with music playing in my ears. The weather has been perfect this week and I want to enjoy it before it gets too hot and humid, as it always does each summer in Florida.
When a shadow intercepts my sunshine, I pull my sunglasses from my eyes and peek up. Everett stares down at me curiously. I pull the earbuds from my ears and stare back suspiciously.
"You know you've been out here a long time," he tells me.
"I do know this."
"How are you not burnt to a crisp?"
I sit up to reach for my bottle of water that's in the mini cooler I brought with me. Everett takes the opportunity to place his ass in the sand next to me. "It's called sunscreen." I take a long swig of water then reach for the pretzels I have. I haven't had anything to eat today except the handful of fries hours ago.
"You're not worried about skin cancer?"
I can't help but smile at his... concern. "Not really. I have regular physicals and all that. Plus, there are far too many other things in this world to worry about, and none of them are going to stop me from doing what I love. Especially sun bathing. It's why I live on the beach after all."
"Make sense." He runs his hand through his hair, looking over at the water. The horizon lost somewhere along the sun speckled sea, begging me to come dive in. I'm not big on swimming though, at least not in the ocean.
Then it hits me. "Wait, how do you know I've been out here a long time?"
Everett's hand slides forward, covering over his face. I believe it's hiding his smile. I bet he hadn't noticed his hint about his stalking habits. "I got home from work over an hour ago and you were out here. When I looked out the kitchen window and saw you still lying in the same position, I wanted to make sure you were still breathing."
"Well I am."
He turns to stare at me once more, looking me directly in the eyes like he tends to do when I'm less than dressed. Apparently I make him uncomfortable, but now I'm curious if that is a good thing or not. Maybe he isn't into females, it'd make a lot more sense, even with his previous eye fucks. Most guys would be trying to get into my pants by now, but not Everett. I respect it, but I'm also a little concerned by it all.
Without notice he reaches into my bag of pretzels.
"Hey." I push his hand away and laugh when all but two pretzels fall into the sand. "Rude much?"
"They looked good," he answers with a shrug. I'm noting his smug smile, too. The bastard.
My eyes narrow at him. "You could've asked."
His only reply is a smile meant for a movie star. He is too much of a diversion for my own good. When I'm with him I forget that I'm not supposed to allow him in- that it's dangerous for us to be friends. He'll find out my secrets and he'll run.
"So..." he starts out casually, but I can tell he is nervous about something. “You hungry for real food?"
I pop another pretzel in my mouth. "Not really." I know where this is going and I'd rather not do dinner with him. It's too risky.
"Well not right now, but do you... do you want to come over for dinner tonight? Say six o'clock?"
"I don't think that's a good idea." I roll up my bag of pretzels, placing it in the cooler along with my water and sunscreen.
"Why?"
"Because we're just friends," I answer.
"And it's just food... being shared with friends. Nothing fancy. I'll make us tuna sandwiches if it makes you more comfortable."
Once I have my belongings all together I look over at him and can't help but snarl at his food suggestion. "Tuna sandwiches?"
"Better than steak and rice, right?"
"No," I tell him with a small laugh. Nothing is better than steak. "But less extravagant, that's for certain."
Everett reaches for my cooler when I stand. "What is it going to take to have you join me tonight? I only want the company, nothing more." He places his hand up in front of him, as a warning sign almost. Showing that he is keeping back from crossing any lines. Either he is a real smooth operator, or he truly does want to be friends.
"Are you gay?" I ask quickly.
When he immediately becomes defensive, shaking his head at a rate faster than usual, I know I've insulted him. It wasn't meant to be insulting, I'd actually prefer if he were gay, then I'd know that no lines are being crossed. “What? No. Fuck no. I love women. I love tits and nice asses, and having sex. I mean, I’m not about just that, but I enjoy it. A lot actually. Sex is fun, it’s great. With women. Only women.”
He makes it known in his rambles- basically digging himself into a whole- I get the idea. "Stop," I tell him, before my amusement turns into annoyance. "I get it. You're a pretty basic guy that likes getting laid."
"I'm not a man whore," he makes sure to announce. His neck and cheeks turn a little pink- which in return entertains me all the more. Not that I make it known. I don't want him to think I'm attracted to him. Hell, I don't even want to be attracted to him. It can’t be that simple though.
"Sorry," I murmur. "I'm just trying to figure you out."
He starts walking towards the back entrance to the complex. I follow alongside him, walking at a slow pace while he scrunches his face up. "Why would you even assume that? That I was gay, I mean."
I stop and look down over my body. It's not necessarily anything special to everyone, but it’s also barely covered. "Um, I'm almost naked and you haven't tried to get laid. You want to hang out with me with no pretenses. You're respectful. Why wouldn't I assume it?" I don't mention he has a bright, white smile and a perfectly tanned face, accompanied with just the right amount of facial hair. Plus, every time I've seen him his hair is slicked back just right- except that first time I saw him with the draggy, mused hair that I'm glad I haven't seen again. Gay men take care of their looks, straight men are more concerned with the opposite sex.
"So basically a man has to be a disrespectful, arrogant asshole, who only uses females for one thing in order to be straight?" I nod my head, because yeah, that sums up most guys I know. His brows basically lift into his hair line- apparently that surprises him. Maybe where he is from things are different, but down here in the south, that is what I've come to discover. "Whatever guys- I won't say men, because they definitely are not men- you're hanging around, you need to stop. No one should ever disrespect you like that.”
I try to hide my smile by biting down on my lip but I don't think it works. He is a thoughtful man. Maybe he doesn't have any hidden agendas, maybe he is right. I do
n't know for sure, but it's hard not to want to find out. "Well, I don't hang out with guys. Except you, it seems."
"What about the gray haired man from the other night?"
My stomach coils. I didn't think about that. I wish he hadn't seen me leave with Winston. I shrug it off, trying to play innocence. "He's my uncle."
"Good." I swear I watch relief wash off his face as we get to the door. He pauses before opening it. "I mean, it doesn't matter to me who it was, but I'd hate to think of you hanging out with someone of that age, knowing that you believe men only want sex. Someone his age shouldn't go for someone your age. It's not... healthy."
"Why isn't it healthy?" I try not to fight back, but I don't think age matters. At least not much. I don't think adults should have sex with young teens, or anyone against their will, but I'm twenty and completely knowingly, willingly having sex, so it shouldn't matter the age of whom it's with. I don't say all that though, I'm merely curious about his thoughts. Maybe a bit defensive too, but I try not to show it.
Everett stares for a moment, not answering me at all. Probably coming up with a reasonable answer in his head, then he simply states, "It's gross. You're young, he's old. It doesn't matter though, he's your uncle."
"Right," I say, trying to force a smile.
I wash it all away though. It's not worth my stress by any means. He opens the door to allow me to go before him. "So," he says once we're in the hall. "Dinner tonight?"
I think on it for a moment before answering. I'm going to hate myself for this later on. "Something better than tuna sandwiches."
"Deal."
"I need my cooler."
He looks at it for a moment before handing it to me. "I'll see you at six then."
Getting inside my condo, I strip from my clothes and make my way towards the bathroom to start a shower. I can feel the salt from the air on my body. It's sticky now, but always makes my skin feel smoother once it’s washed away. As soon as I lather the shampoo into my hair, thoughts start swarming my mind and I can't figure out why I agreed to dinner with Everett.
