by Ashley Beale
"I know when the day comes that I'm married, I'll never pay someone to do for me what my wife can do. If I'm too ashamed to tell her my fantasies, I shouldn't trust her with my heart either. If I need thrill, I'll go sky diving."
"You're one of the good ones, Burke," he tells me. For some reason it makes me feel three inches tall, not over six feet. Not the fact he thinks I'm a good guy, but that I had to lash out on him about what these so-called men do behind their families back. Over ninety percent of them are married, I know this because it says the numbers in the paperwork. The ones that are not in bound marriages are all over the age of fifty five, except three. Those ones make a little more sense to me- and at least they're single- but either way I cannot see how anyone wants an overused vagina around their dick. It sickens me.
"Anyways," I change back to our original topic. "I am still working on everything, but I'm sure I'll have a lot more for you after next Wednesday."
"Right. Mona, is it?" He winks as he sits up straight, grabbing for his hat. "I would suggest finding out what her real name is. We're not getting that information. We know there is Mona, Chasity, Honey, Bella, and of course the ever so sweet Kandy. You have any plans figured out about what y'all gonna talk about?"
I roll my eyes. "I was planning on acting a bit drunk, that way I can break down about my fake break up and whine like a little bitch."
Jeff roars with laughter. "You'll probably fit in with a good portion of the guys she's been with then." He knocks his fist onto the wood of my desk before heading away from it, but I stop him before he gets too far.
"Hey, know of any good deep sea fishing places?"
He thinks on it a moment, but before he says anything, another detective peeks around the corner. "Call Crest Charters, ask about Reef and Wreck trips. They're amazing. It's about a forty minute drive from here, but well worth it. I'll give you the number if you need."
I can't think of the detective’s name, but I thank him for the information. Jeff shakes his head with amusement. "Bringing Mona out fishing, or killing her and throwing her body in the sea?"
“I have a friend that lives in the condo I do, and she's never been fishing... at least, she can't recall ever fishing. I wanted to give it a try with her."
"Nothing fancier than a fishing date." He laughs while walking down the hall. For doing our line of work, he is always a down to earth guy, apparently a happy one at that. I commend him for being able to keep a smile on his face with all the things I know he must've seen by now, being the age he is. I don't have time to correct him it's not a date, but if I'm being honest with myself, I don't want to correct him. I kind of like the thought of it. Maybe I can find something else to do before or after, depending on how long the trip is.
A few hours into paperwork, I feel a headache coming on. Mainly from the soft buzzing sound the light gives off, or the fact that every paragraph I read, I have to re-read because I'm stuck thinking about Brenna. Even the description of one of Kandy's girls sounds exactly like Brenna. At that point I have to rub my eyes, pushing the paper aside. My thoughts turn to her in all the oddest situations and for the dammest reasons. I can't keep doing this to myself. She is unattainable, at least for now, and I have work to do.
A knock comes on my door only seconds before it's being pushed open. Chief pops his head in, and I smile when I see that he has a little bit of mustard in his perfectly coiffed mustache. "Got a minute?" He asks.
"I do." Cracking my fingers, I stand to walk around the desk, glad to have this paperwork pushed away. Maybe he has something better, or at the very least something more distracting.
Walking in he hands me a decently thick folder filled entirely of more paperwork. I hold back my groan, hoping it has nothing to do with this case- or everything to do with the case, so I can finally head home. "Nothing major," he starts to explain. I flip open the front and see a mug shot of someone and the description next to him. "These are the most recent reports of warrants out. I know you're not a patrol officer, but next weekend I'm going to need you to head down to Tampa. These men are located anywhere from Escambia County to Hillsborough County. So when you head down there, you see any of these guys, call it in will ya? Jeff has copies too. I wouldn't normally do this, but they're wanted for more than just some civil cases."
My head spins. "Why am I heading down to Tampa?" I don't mention that is when I was planning on taking Brenna out fishing. I don't know her schedule and which days she'd be able to go, but I do know that the weekends are basically it for me."
"It appears Kandy has a friend down there, or the better yet, the lack of one. A few of her girls went down there when the list came out, so I want Jeff to interrogate them and you to snap pictures and take notes of them all. I'll have more for you later this week."
"Sounds great, Sir," I tell him. Even if I find myself frustrated by it all.
"You can bring the folder home with you. Nothing you need to concern yourself with at this current moment." He nods his head, heading out the door.
I'm not at home ten minutes when Emily calls my phone. I haven't even gotten my boots off yet, but I'm certainly not missing a phone call with my little sis. "How's it going?" I answer the phone.
"I was about to ask the same." Her voice seems jubilant. "Things are going well up here. Got to see an ultrasound of the baby, next month we get a 3D one, which is nerve wrecking and exciting all at once. I'm not sure if I'm ready to see his face. I almost wanted to be surprised when he was born. You know?" She rambles on. "How are you? Settled in any?"
I can hear the engine rev to life, so she must have literally just left the doctors. It makes me happy that she wants to share the news with me right off- it makes me twice as sad though that I'm not actually there for her. Either are our parents. I know more than anything she wanted Mom to be here to help with the nursery and all the first time parent questions. Either way, we had great role models growing up, so I know she'll make an excellent mother- not that I ever had a doubt.
Propping the phone between my shoulder and ear, I start to unlace my boots. "Not too bad. Work is good, I settled in here a lot better than I thought I would. I like my place, but it's almost too big. It's empty. I'm not sure where to put anything. I still haven't unpacked half the boxes."
"Well, good news for you then. Actually, it's the main reason I called."
She pauses, so I know she wants me to guess something. "You're... moving down here?" I'm not sure if I can sound any more hopeful.
I can hear her breath deflate, which means that she wishes that were the truth. "No, sadly. Sebastian said it isn't fair to his parents or he'd think about it. So maybe in a couple years, if you're still there. However, I got some extra time off work, so I'll be visiting you this upcoming week!" Her voice raises several octaves with excitement. "Which means I can also help you set your place up."
"Sebastian is coming with you, right?" I have to ask.
"No. He can't get the time off work."
"You can't drive here alone!" I sound like Dad right now, but she's pregnant- that is far too dangerous for both the baby and herself.
She giggles softly on the other end. "Okay, Dad." Calling me out. "I'll be flying, it's perfectly fine. He'll drop me off at the airport, you can pick me up when I land, and it'll all be fine and dandy. Don't worry about me."
"Can you fly while pregnant?"
"Are you being serious right now? Do you know how many pregnant women fly?" She clearly finds amusement in my concern.
"Yes, I'm serious. What if your stomach pops or something from the pressure?" Okay, that was definitely a Dad comment, and probably not even close to a possibility. I want to make sure if it's actually safe for her to fly though.
"Seriously?" My ear if filled with an echoing roar of laughter. I have to pull the phone from my ear. "No, my stomach most definitely will not randomly combust, you moron. There is a small chance of blood clots because of the elevation and other minor things, but it's all unlikely to happen. I need to avoid
salt, and try to drink lots of water, get up and walk around the cabin once or twice. That's about it. I already discussed it with my doctor, and she said she had absolutely no reason to believe it'd be harmful for me or baby. I've been perfectly healthy this pregnancy thus far."
It reliefs me that she asked her doctor- although the idea of blood clots while pregnant for her terrifies me, I know she wouldn't risk her child's life just to come see me. I let it slide and accept that I get to see her soon. "Tell me when and where and I'll be there. Unless it's this weekend, I have to head to Tampa this weekend."
"Tampa!" She screeches. "I'm so jealous. I want to visit Tampa."
"Too hot this time of year."
"The only thing too hot is hell, and even then, the fun you'll have will make it worth it. You're being Negative Nancy."
"You're being Overly Optimistic Ollie."
"You're an idiot," she deadpans. Our banter only makes me miss her more. I dislike not having my sister around, the only constant thing in my life. "Well I just pulled in the driveway, so I'm going to let you go be boring. I'll call you tomorrow with the details of dates and times."
"Sounds great, Em. Give the baby some kisses for me."
"That's entirely too impossible, but I'll have Sebastian try."
With a small chuckle, I say my goodbyes and hang up the phone, looking around my empty apartment. It hasn't even been close to a week since seeing Brenna last, but I want to go visit her. Her stupid rules that do nothing for me except drive me absolutely crazy is blocking any and everything from happening.
Maybe I could figure something out. A reason to stop in and at least say hi to her. Maybe I could say that I'm out of sugar. Oh, wait, I can't do that because I already hypothetically told her I may have to do that sometime. Maybe I could say... I'm out of laundry soap.
Shit, I don't even know how to do laundry. Mom used to come over and wash it for me, and when she passed away Emily did. I guess you could say I've been spoiled.
My light bulb moment shines right in front of my face with that thought. I can ask her to do my laundry for me.
Wait, that's arrogant. I can't do that.
I can ask her to show me how. That isn't technically crossing any lines, right?
Going into the room I gather up the small hamper I have. Probably not even a full load. Once I pull off my current attire from work today, I toss them all into the hamper sans my briefs, then I dig around to find something more comfortable to put on.
I should say it's only by chance I put on my sweatpants, but honestly I had to rummage through three boxes to find them. I wouldn't normally purposely put sweatpants on, especially in ninety degree weather, but it is laundry day after all- at least I'm making it laundry day randomly- and well, to be honest, it makes my dick more prominent than any pair of jeans could.
Leaving the laundry behind, in case she isn't actually home, I head for the elevators. There is no possible way I should have these feelings about the possibility of seeing her. The ride up to the sixth floor seems to go forever- and the entire time I feel like a high school girl, anticipating seeing Brenna's face.
I'm being absolutely pathetic.
The doors slide open and I swear the hallway looks twice as long as normal. I head down and knock on her door, waiting... and waiting... and waiting a little bit more. I knock three more times, but since I've already crossed the line of desperation, I realize that either she's not home or she's ignoring me, so I head back down the hallway, disappointed I didn't see her face after all.
The elevator must've picked someone up because it takes a few minutes for it to come back up to the floor, and when it does, I'm not able to step forward quite yet. I'm frozen in place. At first I'm elated at seeing the long black hair framing her gorgeous face. Not to mention those bright, green eyes that are envisioned every time I've closed my eyes the past few nights. Except, the moment I actually do see her face, everything inside of me boils with so much anger and rage.
Chapter Nine
Brenna
"You have a new client!" Kandy seems far too excited about the news. Although, I have to admit, I'm ecstatic to hear business isn't completely distinct. I've been worried about losing all my clients from her announcement last week, and even more terrified I wouldn't get any more new ones. Aside from Winston.
"Thank God," I say, setting down my purse. I have to get a Brazilian wax today and Kandy offered to get one with me so we could talk business. "When do I meet him?"
"In a few hours. You have to sign an agreement before you meet with him though."
That means he is government, famous, or entirely too presumptuous. "Do you have the forms?"
"Yeah, they're in the car."
Kandy lays back on the table while we wait for the beautician, covering herself up in the blue napkin-like cloth. I strip from the waist down and lay on my table next to her. I peak over at her once we're both covered and ready. "Who is it?"
"A mister Belvidere."
"As in... Belvidere hotels?"
"The one in the same."
The door opens and in walks two beauticians, one for each of us. They sit near our feet while preparing the wax and instruments. We can't exactly talk about work when others are present, so we take the time to simply relax as much as humanly possible while awaiting the torture that we're soon to endure.
Since we're both regulars, we're not talked through the process like the first several times I came here. Instead, I lay back and listen to the pulls of the wax strips. I grit my teeth, because no matter how many times it's happened, the pain doesn't get any better.
Once finished and paid for, I meet Kandy outside, climbing in her air conditioned Range Rover. She opens the glove box to pull out different paperwork.
She hands me his bio, which contains all his agreements and all the non-disclosure documents. Skimming through, I see he is the kind of guy that is into bondage. "I don't know, Kandy. Bondage?"
"I told him that wasn't your thing, but Honey isn't available." We both know the other girls definitely won't take the bait. It may look like fun and games in porn, or sound erotic in Fifty Shades, but bondage isn't all it's wrapped up to be. Especially with a stranger.
With a sigh, I lean back in the seat and decide if it's worth it. He is a multi-billionaire, so it's possible it could be. He is also married with three kids, so he has a lot at stake if he crosses a line he shouldn't. "Fine," I tell her after a moment. "Is he planning to become a regular?"
"I'm not sure yet," her face contours. She wants him to be for the money, I can tell. "He said it depends on how satisfying you are. Now, here are the details. He wants you to meet at his hotel in Destin. You're to be dressed professional, not the escort kind of professional either, more business-casual. You'll tell them at the front desk your name is Susan and you're in from corporate. You will be brought to his office, then from there it's up to him. He is required to pay you eleven thousand up front."
"Wait," I interrupt. "Eleven? That is..."
"I know," she says. "The most you've ever received. Hell, I've only topped that twice."
Well even if he is into bondage, I'll gladly accept for that kind of cash flow.
"I have the directions here and all his stipulations. Go over them before you meet with him. Got it?"
"Absolutely." I pull the papers into my lap and quickly go over the necessary ones, signing his own non-disclosure agreement, then ours, before handing them back to Kandy.
She reads it over and stuffs it back into her glove box. "Call me tonight when you're done."
"I will. Thanks, Kandy."
Exiting her vehicle, I give Kandy a wave and make it over to mine. The temperatures outside today are unruly, and I'm glad to have a car with no roof- a silver BMW 6-series at that, which is fully paid on. I head directly home, loving the wind wiping through my hair.
Reading over Mr. Belvidere's profile, I shouldn't be as surprised as I am at all his stipulations. After all, he is paying eleven thousand for one ho
ur with me. They're odd requests though. No thongs, no laced bra, no red anything, heels at least four inches tall, hair must be down and slightly curled, any unusual piercings must be gone. The list goes on and on, but thankfully I have four hours until I have to leave, which allows me to go over each requirement on the list twice, to ensure that I'm completely up to par for him.
I've seen him in magazines before, mainly with his family. He isn't a bad looking man, and he's quite young for everything he has. Probably around forty five. He's shorter than average for a grown male, and I'd assume he loves his beer due to the rounded midsection. I can't imagine it'll be too bad of a night, even if I'm dreading some of the possibilities.
Destin is an hour drive, sometimes more if traffic is backed up, so I leave with enough time to spare. I'm a bit pessimistic over the fact I have keep the roof up so my hair doesn't mess- but to cheer myself up I plug my iPod into the adaptor, and put on my best playlist of songs, blasting the music through the speakers. It helps keep me entertained on the ride down there, and my focus off other things. Between my confusion with Everett, my argument with Hillarie, and work being slow, my mind has been going haywire. I'm glad to be able to sing along to old school Christina Aguilera and other fun pop music.
I get to the hotel with several minutes to spare. After checking my makeup in the mirror and fixing my lipstick, I reach for my wallet and phone before heading indoors. The receptionist is a skinny blonde that doesn't even smile when I appear at the desk.
