The NOVA Trilogy Boxed Set

by Jayce, Aven

  “What are you humming?” I ask, raising my voice over the fan and running water.

  “Nothing,” she yells over the shower door. “I’m making it up as I go. Hey, have you heard from Evan at all lately?”

  “Nope. I think he’s busy with his new woman.”

  Mera turns off the water and I open the door, handing her a towel.

  “That was a quick shower.”

  “Yeah, I just needed a soap and lather, I’m not washing my hair.” She takes the towel and starts to dry off as I walk over to the counter to apply my make-up. I watch her reflection in the mirror, admiring her ivory white body. She pulls a cloth elastic band off her head allowing her dark hair to fall downward, landing softly over her shoulders and breasts.

  “An artist would love to have you as a model,” I say, turning around to admire her.

  “You like?”

  Mera places the towel on the counter, and does a poor rendition of a pirouette, spinning in front of me. I watch her hair whirl about as she tries to keep her balance, but as she spins a second time, I notice a dark mark on her right shoulder. I walk toward her and she stops, snatching the towel and wrapping it around her upper body, hiding the mark.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  Her face suddenly changes from delight to horror. She steps back, wrapping the towel even tighter around her body. “It’s nothing.”

  “Seriously, what is it?” I ask again, putting my hand up to pull the towel off her shoulder.

  She takes another step back. “It’s a surprise. I don’t want you to see it just yet.”

  “Fuck, you got a tattoo didn’t you? Show me. I want to see it.”

  “Not yet, Soph. It really is a surprise, just be patient.”

  I let my hand fall down to my side, allowing Mera to witness my defeat. She steps onto the bath mat and lifts her dress from the towel bar.

  “I’ll show it to you soon, but now’s not the time. Let’s get dressed and head out. We can talk about it later.” Mera drops her towel, hiding the tattoo under her hair. She pulls the sleek black dress over her head, covering the black ink for the evening.

  “Why are you being so secretive? And I thought you hated tattoos. What gives? Now I’m curious, you have to tell me.”

  “Soph, just wait,” she replies in an uncompromising tone. “Give it another day to heal, and I’ll show you tomorrow.”

  I pout a moment longer, before turning back to the mirror to apply a thin coat of silver rose lipstick and a dusting of blush. I decide to go somewhat “au naturel,” letting my reddish brown eyes lure the men in this evening.

  “I don’t know why you can’t show me what it is,” I whine one last time. Mera rolls her eyes, turning toward the mirror to apply her foundation, as I walk away to find my heels.

  “Don’t take too long,” I yell back at her. “You’re buying the first round.”

  ***

  Mera and I arrive at The Dark Scarlett at ten. There’s a line of people about a block long waiting to get in as we pull into the garage across the street from the newest wine bar in the city. Parking is a bitch downtown on a Friday evening, and we do our best to find a spot at a distance that won’t place too much of a strain on our feet. I should have opted for the two-inch heels instead of going all out and matching Mera with the three inchers.

  “Do you think this place is worth the wait on such a cold November night?”

  Mera hands me my wool coat from the back seat as she begins to slide into hers.

  “I’d say yes, based on the amount of people who are waiting to get in, this must be a great place. It’s only been open for a week and everyone at work is talking about it.”

  “Oh, that reminds me, I applied for a job at some video and film editing company. My father sent me the lead; I guess one of his friends owns the place. I may actually have a job sometime next week.”

  She lets out a chuckle and pats me on the back.

  “Hey. You find my future job possibility amusing? It’s probably better than being a figure model, and I’ll make more money.”

  “No. I think it’s great that you’re finally getting out into the world. I just had a flash in my head of your father’s behind the scenes business, and that it’s possible you could be editing porn.”

  “Mera,” I say, slapping her on the forearm. I doubt my father would want me to be involved in that. Which, by the way, we need to talk about his offer to you.”

  She frowns as we cross the street, taking our places at the back of the line. I suddenly sense a slight tension between us, as I wait for her response. She stands looking forward, possibly thinking about the discussion the two of them had after our dinner at Giorgio’s. She places her hands into her coat pockets and stumbles upon the key for my building and elevator. Mera smiles at my kind gesture.

  “Now you can come up on your own, anytime you’d like.”

  “Thanks, Soph. You know, maybe we should go somewhere else. I forgot how cold it is this time of the year when the sun goes down.”

  “You’re the one who just said it was worth the wait, making me walk over here from the car. We’re not moving for a while. Just be patient.”

  “Fine. I guess our only other choice is Worship anyway, I’ll try not to think about the fact that it’s colder than a witch’s tit out here tonight.”

  “Yeah, think about the discussion with my father instead. It’s time to talk.”

  “Drinks first, then talk.”

  “You’re acting so odd and distant tonight. You were fine until I noticed the tattoo. What did you do, get married and not tell me? Is it one of those drunken night tats? Or maybe it’s not the tattoo at all, and you really did fuck my dad and you don’t want me to find out, so you’re acting all weird about everything.”

  The couple standing in front of us glances back, and I send them an apologetic look for my language.

  “Soph,” Mera whispers. “Chill the fuck out. We can talk in private once we get inside.”

  “Whoa, that’s nice,” I say. The wine bar has a block long row of heat lamps attached to its building directly above us. “They must have just turned them on.”

  We look up and warm our faces as we take our hands out of our pockets. Yes, this is a nice place.

  “Excuse me, Sophia Jameson?”

  I look away from the heat lamp and turn to the man standing next to me. He’s well over six feet tall, and dressed in a deep grey suit and black tie. His heavy build and slicked back hair reminds me of the standard mob character in any contract killer movie.

  “Yes?” I hesitate, sending a confused look over to Mera.

  “Miss Jameson, we have a table ready for you and your guest.”

  “My guest? Um, I’m not sure I’m the Sophia Jameson you’re looking for.”

  He sets his hand against an earpiece for a moment and grins. “Yes, you are the Sophia Jameson I’m looking for, please follow me inside.”

  “Hold on. If this has anything to do with my father, then we’ll wait like everyone else in line. I appreciate that he wants to take care of me, but this is a bit too much. What, does he have a camera on me at all times?”

  The gentleman looks confused and points to the direction of the door. “Please, Miss Jameson, I’m not aware of your relationship with your father. I was asked only to lead you and your friend inside and to get the two of you out of the cold.”

  I glance at Mera and she shrugs, taking a step forward while latching onto my arm, pulling me along with her. We follow the man past the line of people, walking by the doorman, the bouncer, and through the front door of the club.

  “Sophia, this is elegant. Look at all of the beautiful lights.”

  The room is filled with miniscule to gigantic sized low hanging chandeliers set together in groups of five, illuminating black velvet sofas and dark end tables placed around the room. A deep burgundy colored carpet lines the floor with varying shades of light to dark grey paint alternating along the walls. Contemporary electronica l
ounge music pierces my ears, a category of sound that I have experienced only from living with Mera. This is what she likes to listen to when she’s fucking, and from what I’ve seen and heard in our former apartment, I have to say it is quite sexy.

  There’s a line of sofas along the back wall, and a more private area to the side, with two bouncers keeping watch over all. It may be for the bar owners, or their wealthy clientele to whom this new place is obviously geared. The man we’ve been following directs us to one of the seating areas along the back, and we settle into the soft sofa.

  “Enjoy your evening ladies. All new guests receive a free bottle of wine.”

  “Wait,” I plead, searching for answers. “Can you tell me who asked you to bring us inside?”

  He looks around the room, undecided about answering the question, before turning back with a smile. “I believe it would be best for you to find that out on your own. I am not at liberty to give out names without permission.”

  “Well, at least I know it was someone other than my father. Right?” I pause; looking at Mera, then back to the man standing next to me. “Paul Jameson doesn’t own this club, does he?”

  He grins from ear to ear, obviously enjoying my guessing game. “No Miss Jameson, he doesn’t own this club.”

  He starts to walk away only for Mera to call him back.

  “Wait. I have a question too.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Ask away.”

  “What artist, or band is playing on your sound system? It’s hypnotizing and hot. Makes me want to dance naked.”

  He smiles, trying not to laugh or look aroused. “Yes, it’s very good dance music. I’ll get you a copy of the playlist from our DJ.”

  A woman dressed in a short black cocktail dress, wearing a black wig and dark red lipstick places a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the coffee table in front of us. The bottle has a solid black label with the name The Dark Scarlett in red lettering. She pours a small amount into Mera’s glass and waits.

  “Go ahead Mera, take a swig.”

  She places the rim of the glass against her mouth and takes a sip. She swirls it around, and swallows. Her face shows pure delight and the lounge server pours a little into each glass.

  “This is the owner’s specialty, girls. I can bring a second bottle out if you’d like.” The server sets the bottle down in front of us and continues on to her other customers in the lounge.

  I look at Mera who is staring into space, deep in thought.

  “Can you at least smile for me? What the hell are you so stressed about?”

  A sweet smile flashes across her face, but then is hidden again by the worry and doubt that creeps into her eyes.

  “Soph, I’m working for your dad. I’m going to do it. I gave my two-week notice at The Pillsman Center. I know you’re going to be mad about it, but it’s great money and I don’t have to do anything that I don’t agree to, plus I get to work my own hours.” Mera speaks frantically, trying not to cry as I listen and bite my tongue. “Please don’t be too hurt that I didn’t discuss it with you first, and don’t be angry at your dad. I kind of fucked things up and lied to him about the entire situation, telling him that you were okay with it. I don’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend and I know I went behind your back and everything, but please, please be okay with this and my decision. It’s not something I’ll do forever, but I think I’ll make enough over the next two years to pay off my student loans and buy myself a few nice things. Are you mad? Please don’t be mad.” She puts her wine down and stops a few tears from rolling down her face, trying to preserve her makeup.

  Without looking at her, I stand and move away from the sofa.

  “Soph?”

  “I’ll be back,” I say, trying not to show any emotion either way.

  The room we’re in is large, and I notice a hallway leading to another area of the building. As I walk past happily laughing and very drunk patrons, the floors of the room sway and my face flushes with a wave of heat running though my body. My ears buzz and my palms are sweaty as I try to escape the powerful panic attack that’s all encompassing.

  A hand takes hold of my elbow, assisting me to the bar.

  “Miss Jameson, can I help you?”

  It’s the man who escorted us in. I shake my head no, waiting for the anxiety to pass.

  “Are you sure? Would you like a glass of water?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just looking for the ladies room.” He takes my elbow again and walks me over to the other side of the room.

  “What’s over there, down that hallway?” I ask.

  “Private rooms.”

  “Oh.” Maybe that’s what Mera and I need, a private room to discuss a few things. With music, laughter, and loud conversations whirling in my head, a quiet space would be our best bet to hash this out. “Can my friend and I have a private room?”

  He smiles, but shakes his head no, “I’m sorry, they’re all booked for this evening.” He sends me over to the restroom, then heads back to the bar area to oversee the crowd.

  I spend some time in a stall, trying not to think about Mera being a porn star, or my father viewing her naked body online at anytime of the day. I don’t need to fill my head with such images. She’s an adult and I have to respect her decision, even if it means letting go of a desire to control her and our friendship.

  I inhale deeply and exhale as forcefully as I can. The woman in the stall to the right of me laughs, making some smart comment about the lack of fiber in my diet. I take another deep breath, quieter this time, pretending not to hear her remark. My pounding heart finally begins to slow. Focus, Soph; let the situation be. Allow Mera to make her own decisions. Fuck it. She’s already made the decision.

  Mera has finished her first glass of wine and is pouring a second when I return to the sofa. I gulp mine down to catch up with her. I place the glass on the coffee table and she pours me another.

  She longs for words to come out of my mouth. I hold out for as long as I can before she blurts out her frustration.

  “Yell, or scream, or do something Soph, but don’t just sit there. Don’t use silence as a form of punishment on me.”

  “I want to see your tattoo,” I say in a strong voice, being very clear with her that I’m not fucking around. “You need to show it to me now because I think it has something to do with all of this. Lay it all out, all at once, and then we’ll talk.”

  I watch as she brushes her hair off her shoulder with a shaky hand. Gently, and with a slight hesitation, she pulls the fabric from her dress down enough to expose the tattoo.

  Property of Jameson Industries

  My mouth drops open. “What the fuck is that? He branded you?” I say, nearly throwing up as I realize the seriousness of my father’s business. “You got branded, Mera. Please tell me this is a requirement and you didn’t do that on your own. On second thought, no, don’t tell me it’s required. I don’t want to know that my father treats his employees like cattle.”

  She tries to speak, but I place my hand up to halt the conversation, closing my eyes while trying to wipe the tattoo image out of my mind. Opening them a few moments later, I find the tat covered and hidden under Mera’s long hair. She’s quiet, embarrassed, and waiting for my next attack. I sit quietly, trying to understand if this is all about money, or if there’s something else to her decision. She seems so weak to me right now, which isn’t like her.

  “Are you doing this to impress my dad?”

  Mera shakes her head no, definitely distraught. A small amount of mascara is smeared under her eyes, and I place my hand up to her face, gently wiping it away with my finger. I cradle the side of her cheek in the palm of my hand and pull her gently toward me, placing my lips against hers. Mera welcomes the kiss, allowing me to have the control that I feel I’ve lost. I warm her lips, letting her feel my support of her decision.

  We sit back, as the couple to our left quietly and discreetly holds up their wine glasses in approval.

  “When did y
ou decide all of this?”

  “On Tuesday. I called your dad because I had a few questions about the employee contract for his company.”

  “What contract?”

  Mera sighs, knowing that she’s digging herself deeper into a hole. “It was emailed to me the day your dad flew back to Vegas. My tattoo is part of the contract, Soph. It represents my signature, and that I agree to the terms.”

  “So, you’ve both been lying to me? This has been an ongoing discussion all week and you’ve kept it a secret? And everything my father has said to me has been complete bullshit? Yeah, now I’m angry, but not about your decision. You guys shouldn’t keep things from me,” I say in a harsh tone, gulping down another glass and pouring a third.

  “You’re right, that’s why it was so hard to tell you. I’ve been mendacious, and I hate myself for it. I’m so sorry Sophia.”

  Her apology is sincere, and I believe my father is at fault here more than her. It seems a bit rude and insensitive to approach my best friend with an offer that could trap her in a seedy lifestyle, something she could easily regret down the road. Plus, he lied to me about it. I watch Mera as she drinks her wine, her eyes saddened by my reaction and disgust. I feel I may be overreacting. I don’t want to hurt her feelings any more than I have.

  “If this is what you really want to do, and you think you’ll be happy, that’s fine and I stand by your decision. Sometimes I say things and realize afterward what a hypocrite I am, and I have no right to criticize you. I have a feeling that you may regret your decision, but who am I to talk?”

  “Really? Ohh, Soph,” she says, giving me a hug. “I’m actually excited about it, and I’m glad it’s finally out in the open.”

  “Do me a favor though?” I plead. “I don’t want any details about what you’re doing, at least not for a while. All I can picture is my dad seeing you naked all day long. It kind of breaks my heart.”

  “It’s not like that. Your dad will probably never see me. He has quite a few online sites, and thousands of videos, so unless someone sends him a link that could potentially be an issue for his company, with me in it, you don’t have to worry.”