by Alice Ward
“Find a way to tell her how you honestly feel. I don’t know, maybe a note or something? I’m really not the best person for this kind of advice. The person to talk to is Marlena. She’s been married a lot longer than I have.” Liliana’s sweet grin was placating, and I could tell she was itching to get off the phone. “I’ll text Marlena right now.”
“No, wai—”
She kept going as if she hadn’t heard me. Typical Wellington female. I’d just had to ask for advice. “Women have always liked you, Roman, but you never seemed that interested in any of them sticking around.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Roman, you’re a total womanizer. Shit, sorry, I mean…” Her face flushed scarlet as she fumbled for words.
“You think I’m totally hopeless, don’t you?” I confronted her, sure my expression was hard and unyielding.
“I think you’re misunderstood. I love you, so someone else has got to one day too.” She laughed uncomfortably.
“That’s not very reassuring.”
“I don’t think it’s always been really awesome for Marlena and Chris, but they’re still in it. They’ve had their struggles, see what she has to say. It’s time you found somebody to love you, because you deserve it. I can tell you how wonderful love is and blow you up with butterflies and rainbows, and you know…” She waggled her eyebrows, her eyes glinting a love-dazed sparkle that turned my stomach.
Liliana was right — she wasn’t the best person to reach out to for advice on this matter.
“Ugh, why are you so you?” I slitted my eyes in feigned frustration. “I’ll retract that request for help now please.”
“I’ll be home on Monday. You and I can share a bottle of wine and go over this in detail then.” Her eyes darted from the screen to something in the distance.
She’d really text Marlena. Marlena and I hadn’t talked for months. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my older sister, we just didn’t have much in common. She had three young boys, a busy career, and a life I had a hard time imagining wanting to live.
“I don’t think great detail will be necessary,” I rebuffed, thinking if I gave her details, she would want to give me some of hers. I shuddered.
“I gotta go. Pete says the bear is back on the meadow.” Liliana’s smile melted into genuine excitement.
“Yeah, okay.” I was happy she was having a great time, even if I couldn’t compete with Pete, the great outdoors, and a bear.
“I love you, Roman. Oh, and remember she isn’t Sabrina.” Liliana blew a kiss into the screen. “Call you Monday!”
“Love you too.” I cracked a half smile and hit the end button. The screen snapped to a smiling picture of Liliana giving the peace sign at the top of the Eiffel Tower.
No, Mona wasn’t Sabrina. Mona knew I was wealthy and she could have manipulated much more than I’d paid for her last night out of me if she’d wanted.
I stared out at the beautiful Montana mountains in the distance, contemplating whether to answer when Marlena called. The floor-to-ceiling picture window in my suite had the most amazing view. The mountains gave me peace whenever stress creeped in, and I took a moment to weigh my options.
If I talked to Marlena, between a conversation with both sisters, odds were that the whole family would know that I couldn’t pick up a woman. I sighed. Or not the woman I wanted. I’d never had to give a woman so much thought before. I’d actually spent more time thinking about how to get rid of a woman than how to woo her.
No woman had ever been this important.
Important enough to risk humiliation. I picked up when the phone rang.
“Hey, Roman. Are you okay?” Marlena started out with a note of panic in her voice. She’d always had a mothering gene and had taken to mothering me and Liliana when she was in her teens. I’d tended to turn to her if I had a problem I needed to discuss, rather than my parents.
“Everyone is fine. Why? It sounds like a bad time for you to talk.” I could hear her sons yelling, and given the chaotic din in the background, I assumed her youngest boys were fighting.
How could she live in that kind of chaos?
“No, it’s never a bad time. I haven’t heard from you for forever…” she stopped talking for a moment, diverting her voice away from the receiver and yelled, “Trevor stop that… take your hand out of his pasta. No, it doesn’t matter, just because he did it to you doesn’t mean you do it back… Sorry, sorry.” She returned and continued like the interruption hadn’t happened. “So, what’s going on?”
“Nothing much, just need a little sisterly advice.” About a woman who may or may not be a prostitute. My breath seized in my throat and I knew this was a mistake.
“Well, if it’s about business, unfortunately Chris is out of town.” She growled. “Trevor, I said stop it now!” she shouted.
“No, I think I’ve got business covered, thanks. This doesn’t seem like a very good time for you though, should I call you back later?” Now I remembered why I never called my older sister. Her life, even the tiny glimpses of it I was subjected to, hiked up my anxiety and made me feel like she was always living inside a horror movie.
“No worries, Roman. Just a minute.” She muffled the phone and shouted, “Boys go outside!”
There was clamoring, scampering, then silence.
“Wow, you’re good at that.”
Her voice revved to high speed. “We have about seven minutes… hit me.”
“It’s regarding a woman I met recently. I can tell she’s interested, but she’s shut me down several times. I’d like to make one last approach before I offer to pay her for her time.” I laughed lamely. “That’s a joke.” Not.
“I get it.” She laughed. “You really like her.”
“I don’t know if I like her yet, but I want a chance to find out. There’s a connection that I’ve never experienced before.” I bit down on my bottom lip, gripping it between my teeth.
“Ahhh. Were you… um, how do I phrase this? Kind? Or… like you usually are?”
My heart dropped into my stomach. “Like usual.”
“Cold and calculating, business is first, kind of usual?”
That was blunt.
“A little warmer than that, I hope.” I felt uplifted by the fact that I’d been more gentle with the Butterfly than my regular persona would be expected to.
“That’s good, that’s a start.” Her tone brightened.
“Most women are just in love with my money, but I’ve found somebody who I think doesn’t care about how much I have. Do you have any ideas how to proceed and maybe also an exit plan if needed?”
“I think women really like traditional, old-school chivalry. Send her some flowers and a note, and when you speak to her, put your real thoughts out there.” It was solid, old-school advice. “Ask yourself, is this the person you’d want to go into hiding with?”
“Wait, what?”
“Is this a person who you could be stuck with for days and days on end without food or water? Could you survive together, if zombies or militant vegans were coming to get you? Could she be your wingwoman? If your answer is ‘yes’ you should tell her how you feel.” She was being perfectly serious, which scared me. She’d been mothering boys for too long.
“Um, zombies and militant vegans?”
“I know you think I’m crazy, but that’s what a relationship is, being stuck together through things that are almost as absurd as mutant killer clowns. As soon as the kids come, your sex life will either be mandated to a scheduled day on a calendar, or it won’t happen for years. The person you pick to share this craziness with should be someone you’d fight an alien for… and she should know it. Trust me, you pour that kind of trust and love into a letter, she’ll melt for you.”
“Did Chris do that?” She’d peaked my curiosity.
“Pretty much. And apart from golf on Sundays, which drives me totally nuts cause he leaves me here with the heathens, we’re holding down the fort — zombies, killer clowns, bouts of the flu, so
ccer Saturdays, and all.” The smile in her tone reflected the genuine love in her words. “Speaking of which, I have to get the boys’ soccer stuff into the van.” She drove a minivan too. Double shudder.
“Okay, a letter about zombies… I’ll get started on that right away,” I said in a mocking tone.
She laughed. “You’ll find the right words.” Just as predicted, seven minutes into our conversation, her boys returned from the yard.
“I’m thirsty,” I heard wailed in the background.
“The task masters are back, I should go.” She sounded disappointed.
“Thanks, Lena, for the advice. You’re the best.” This time I meant it in all sincerity.
“Love you, little bro. We’re hosting Thanksgiving this year, so you’re coming, no excuses. Hopefully with the plus one you’re going nuts over.”
“I’m not going nuts… We’ll see,” was all I could muster.
“Mom!” blared a loud child in the background.
“I’m coming,” she shouted. “Okay, see you soon, Roman.”
“Bye, Lena.”
I looked thoughtfully at the phone. Both of my sisters had suggested I communicate honestly with her, both with a note. But how should I start such a correspondence?
Dear Butterfly,
I just want you to know, should we be overtaken by militant zombie vegans, I’ve got your back.
I chuckled, then shot my assistant a quick message to make a reservation for Duk and me at Jewel. Moments later, his return message popped up: Duk Soo will meet you at Jewel tonight, ten o’clock. No need to reserve dinner, he’s having dinner with a client before.
A thrill shot through me and I hardened immediately. What was it about the Butterfly that had me reacting like a teenage boy?
So tonight was it. I was going back to the sex-scented den of desire. I guess it was time to start drafting that letter. I’d call in the flower order myself, or risk giving poor Ms. White a heart attack. I’d purchase the most incredible bouquet of flowers the florist had to offer.
I could handle that. The kid part I wasn’t so sure about.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Adara
It was nine forty-five in the evening and clients would soon be arriving at Jewel.
I’d spent most of the day watching my favorite Audrey Hepburn movies: Roman Holiday, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and My Fair Lady. I felt filled with the mystique of vintage romance. And I’d use the mood for my show.
Since having the dream last night, my emotions — which’d been dead for nearly two years — were trickling back in. I’d kept myself armored, protected from my own feelings for so long, I hardly recognized them.
I realized now I’d walked through life in a fog of indifference. Blotting out my ability to experience joy or pain kept me perfectly encased in denial. If I never remembered my past or relived it, I didn’t have to face it. I could survive.
Meeting a man like Roman reminded me that not all men were careless, sex-starved patrons of the night. Knowing Brandy, despite being my closest friend, would probably throw me under the bus the first chance she got was also a wake-up call.
I’d have to face all my emotions soon, and I’d have to face them alone.
Was I strong enough for that?
As much as I dreaded the idea of going back to Jewel tonight, I assured myself I’d perform and nothing more. I didn’t have to accept anyone’s offer, especially Jack Marshall’s. I had the legal right to walk home after my performance without threat or penalty.
The next day was Sunday, my day off, and I planned to book an Airbnb off campus in the mountains somewhere and rejuvenate for the whole day. And plan. I looked around the room at my possessions and thought about what I’d pack for my day away, and when I left here for good. I didn’t have much. All of the furniture belonged to Jewel and so did most of the clothes. Brandy had finagled them for me when I’d come, since I didn’t have the money to purchase clothes of the caliber Jewel required.
Excitement ran through me just thinking about leaving the campus tomorrow and I decided to go ahead and pack a small bag of my things. Then I added a few of the things I treasured most just in case, all things I had to hide here: photographs of me and Nate, the Grammy I treasured, notebooks I’d used to write most of my songs. It was frightening to think of leaving here, because I knew I had nothing and no one left to run to.
I didn’t have friends or family to turn to. Before Nate, my friends were people who were more enamored with my fame than my friendship. When I was no longer famous, most of them bailed. It didn’t help that I was also a caustic bitch. I was so hurt, I didn’t know where to channel that energy, so I pummeled my friends with it.
I wasn’t sure where I was going to find a job, but I could sing. Maybe I’d try and get work as a back-up singer, although it’d probably crush me to sing back up when I loved the spotlight. In the spotlight was where I belonged. The rush of emotions flooded me and again, my eyes teared up, but this time I also felt a surge of hope. If I had survived this, I could survive anything.
I left my things at the door for tomorrow and walked briskly to my dressing room.
“Hey there, Mona,” a beautiful redheaded girl said from across the hall. Glory had the dressing room across from mine and was one of the dancers, but I didn’t know much else about her.
“Hi,” I said, stopping briefly at her door. After spending the day alone, I wanted a little human interaction. “You have plans for tomorrow?”
“I’m going to sleep.” She offered a gorgeous smile. “I’ve had a client after the show for the last three nights. I’m totally beat.” She almost sounded like she was bragging about it. “I heard you’ve started taking clients as well.”
As soon as she said it, I knew she was fishing for the story. A flash of apprehension coursed up my spine. Is that what people thought? Did they think I was taking clients now? My head spun, and I felt unsteady despite my cane.
“Ah… no, not really. Just one guy… we talked.” I turned quickly back toward my dressing room door and threw over my shoulder, “Break a leg,” as I walked quickly in and shut the door behind me.
At the makeup table, I took off the flesh-colored mask I wore during the day to switch it to the black one. Without cosmetics or something covering it, the jagged, puckered gash was deep and gnarled and a shock even to me each time I uncovered it. I’d needed more plastic surgery to repair it to something that was even passable. Looking on the bright side for the first time in forever, I decided I could scare kids on Halloween, like something out of a horror movie. I made a snarly face in the mirror and growled, then laughed at myself. Roman hadn’t seen my face, or he’d probably have run as soon as he had.
I shrugged. Any man would have to accept me as I was now. I couldn’t be anyone else. Still, tears pressed against the backs of my eyes and I quickly returned the mask to its place.
Just then, Brandy burst through the door. Tonight, she was all smiles and lightness. “How’s it going, Ady?” The room filled with her sweet, clingy perfume. She was dressed in a short, perfectly tailored off-the-shoulder dress that lifted her breasts out so far, I wondered if her purpose was to tempt clients to grab them.
“Please be careful. It’s Mona.” God forbid Glory overhear her out in the hall. “It’s going okay,” I answered quietly, waiting for the ball to drop.
“Glad you came in. You had me worried, tensions were pretty high last night.” She didn’t look at me while she spoke, just pulled one of the sexier outfits down from the rack.
It was made of a nearly sheer gold fabric that had a purplish hue, and not much to go under it besides a G-string.
“I don’t like that one,” I told her as I brushed through my thick dark hair.
“And you never wear it, so you’ve got to wear it tonight. The rest of the dresses are going to the cleaners.” She laid the flimsy dress across the back of my chair.
I shook my head in disdain, and hoping to appeal to her inner beauty queen, sa
id, “It clashes with the red highlights in my hair.”
But she still didn’t look at me, instead focusing on the bottles on my makeup table. “You’ll be happy to know…”
Oh, god…
“I’ve had another offer from Mr. Wellington. He’s in the theater this evening.”
My heart leaped then stuttered and died in my chest. He’d only touched my hand last night, kissed my hand, but my dream had been so real that I could almost feel his hands on my body now. If I took him as a client tonight, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my guard up. I’d become a whore. I shook my head, but inside, I wanted to say yes. Please, yes. “No. I won’t take him.”
Brandy laughed. “I figured you’d say that, but all he did was talk last time. He wants another chance to talk with you. He’s offered seventy-five thousand for you tonight. This time, he gets more than five questions, which I think is totally fair.”
“And what does that include?” I struggled to take off my brace and put tights on.
“Nothing you don’t want it to. Mona, the money is so good. And he’s a gentleman. There’s nothing wrong with talking.” Her voice was soft and encouraging, too much so. It made my fingers pause in the act of stretching the tights over my thighs. “Just do it. You won’t have compromised anything, but you’d be an idiot to turn down money like this. We both know you need it.”
She helped me back into my brace and I did everything in my power not to go giddy with relief. She was right, I couldn’t pass up the money, especially now when I needed some financial security to buy me time while I figured things out. And, if I were honest with myself, I was thrilled to be able to see Roman again.
I wanted to see the way his eyes warmed when he looked at me, and get lost in just being in his presence. I didn’t care if my heart shattered when he found out what I really looked like. I wanted one more night… just one more night of fantasy. I’d be careful, wouldn’t let him touch me.
I looked down at Brandy and gave a tiny smile. “Just one more time,” I whispered and used the excitement of Roman to ride me over into the subject that would be a disagreement. “And on my terms again. You have to tell him that I’m not on the menu, no touching.” Though the thought of his hands on me made my breathing speed up. My eyes darted to hers from behind the mask and I took a deep, stabilizing breath. “Then we have to discuss my termination date.”
