Duplicity

by Kristina M Sanchez

  The bar they dragged her to was a friendly kind of place. Mal made it known it was her twenty-first birthday—never mind that he and Dana were still using fake IDs—and the shots started flowing like water.

  They ordered a variety of appetizers, and Lilith’s bad mood began to dissipate. So what if her father didn’t understand her? She had these two, and she didn’t need anyone else. They accepted her for who she was. They didn’t think she was bad or wrong.

  She had a fleeting thought, wishing Trey was there. It surprised her so much, she cut off mid-conversation.

  “You okay?” Dana asked.

  “Yeah.” Lilith shook her head. “I . . . um. I just remembered I forgot my . . . sweater at work.”

  Her friends nodded, either not noticing her stutter or choosing to ignore it. It wasn’t atypical for them to shy away from any mention of work. Maybe they accepted her for who she was, but that didn’t mean they wanted to know details about her workday.

  Just as she was beginning to let her guard down, Mal had to go and ruin it.

  A friend of his just happened to be at the bar at the same time. That wouldn’t have been so curious except that Nathan, as he was introduced, was there alone. Not a lot of people their age ended up in bars drinking alone. And then he’d said the magic words.

  “Mal’s told me a lot about you.”

  Lilith glared surreptitious daggers at her friend while he blinked back, the picture of innocence.

  In all fairness, there was a lot to like about Nathan, so she could at least see the wisdom behind the pairing. She kept things casual, careful to divert the man’s considerable charm. She went to the bathroom, and when she came back, she put Dana between them.

  When she’d had a few too many shots—being no stranger to alcohol, she could hold her liquor well—she leaned behind Dana, taking Nathan’s wrist to pull him toward her so she could whisper in his ear.

  “I don’t know what Mal’s told you, sport, but you should know. I let people fuck me for money. And I’m damn good at what I do.”

  The look on Nathan’s face told her everything. Mal had not warned him. He stumbled, stuttered, made his excuses, and was gone in the next two minutes.

  Mal fixed her with a disparaging look. “What did you do? What did you say to him?”

  “What do you think I said to him?” There was a challenge in her tone; she was ready for a fight.

  It was one of the worst feelings in the world to feel so alone in a crowded room.

  “Things were going well. Did you have to—”

  “In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever been on a single date?”

  “No, and that was the point.” He drummed his fingers against the table. “I think a nice guy in your life could help.”

  The waitress appeared just in time with another shot. Lilith grabbed it before she could even put it down on the table. She shot it back, slamming the empty glass down before she leveled a glare at her friend. “Could help what?” Her voice was low and dangerous.

  She could tell from the expression on Mal’s face he knew he was in trouble. He gave a little huff. “Significant others aren’t bad things.” He looked over at Erin, squeezing her hand. “It’s nice, you know? It’s nice to have someone supporting you, helping you through life.”

  Lilith scoffed. “It’s very obvious how much Nathan would support my job choice,” she said, gesturing toward the door.

  “You didn’t have to tell him about that.”

  “Oh, yeah. It sounds like a great idea to start a relationship based on a lie?” She shook her head. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think you should try to have something normal.”

  “Oh, fuck you, Mal. Normal? Just fuck you.”

  For a second, it seemed as though he was going to apologize. Then his eyes hardened. “Look, can we not do this? Can we not sit here and pretend what you do is a good thing? It’s not wrong, you know I don’t think it’s wrong, but it’s not great.

  “This—” he gestured between him and Erin “—is something you should want. This is something people work for—a relationship, a good future, a real life. This is something people do everything in their power to have. You take the crappy little jobs at McDonald’s or in retail. You do whatever you need to do.”

  “Except have sex. Do everything else. Suck some asshole’s dick metaphorically as long as you don’t have to do it in reality.”

  “Mal, Lilith . . . please don’t—” Dana started to interrupt, but Lilith cut her off.

  “No, Danes. It’s fine. Whatever.” She got to her feet, swaying. The room was spinning, but the absolute need to get the hell out of there helped her keep her balance. “You normal people have fun. Happy fucking birthday to me.” She fished through her purse because Mal had the habit of dumping his keys in there rather than keep them in his pocket.

  “Lilith, don’t be that way.” Mal’s voice was rough as he rose to follow her. “You know you can’t drive—”

  “Look, you’ve made it clear you think I’m an idiot, but that’s not true.” She shoved the keys in his hand. “I’ll take a cab, or I’ll walk, but you stay the fuck away from me right now, get it?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer. She stormed out of the club, away from her friends and into the night alone.

  Chapter 7

  Lilith was no stranger to athletic sex, but she must have overdone it this time, because Trey called her on it once he’d caught his breath.

  “Not that it wasn’t amazing, but who were you punishing just now?”

  Still a little winded, Lilith lifted her head to regard him. “You call that punishment?” she asked, ignoring his question.

  “All I’m saying is if you’d chosen professional boxing as a occupation instead of this, I’d be black, blue, and bloody right now.” He stretched, folding his arms behind his head. “We’ll just call that one my gain.” He looked at her, his expression more serious. “Now will you tell me what’s going on?”

  Rolling off him onto her back, Lilith stared at the ceiling. “You’re not paying me to bitch.”

  She heard rather than saw him turn his head in her direction. “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever been asked to do?”

  This question she could handle. She didn’t even have to think very hard. “Had a guy with a diaper fetish once. He didn’t want any kind of sex. He wanted me to change his dirty diaper.”

  “Eww.” She turned in time to see Trey wrinkle his nose. “Is there anything you won’t do?”

  “I refuse to do anything involving poop and pee.”

  “But you just said—”

  “I said he asked, not that I did it.”

  He rolled over onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “Okay. So what’s the weirdest thing you’ve actually done?”

  “I paddled a guy with a hairbrush.” She waggled her eyebrows, smirking at his shocked, somewhat flushed expression. “You want to talk about athletic sex—the second that guy was off my lap, he grabbed me, bent me over the table, and had his way with me.”

  “How exciting.” He paused for a heartbeat before he went on. “Would you let someone spank you?”

  The tone of his voice—low and sexy—sent a shiver down her spine. It was only by virtue of practice that she kept her visceral reaction off her face. “I’d have to trust someone a lot to let them hit me.”

  Trey began to trace the curve of her breast with the tip of a single finger as he spoke. “Would you trust me?”

  Despite her best efforts, Lilith’s voice was barely there when she answered. “Yes.” She didn’t know how she felt about the act on a personal level—she hadn’t had occasion to think about her own pleasure—but she knew she would trust him if he asked.

  Feeling too aware of his eyes on her, she cleared her throat and attempted an unconcerned shrug. “If I trust you enough to stick your unprotected cock in my mouth, I trust you with a little spanking. But there’s a sliding
scale for that . . . you know, just for your edification.”

  “I see.” His finger brushed down the valley between her breasts. “Tell me about this sliding scale.” His eyes flitted to hers, and there was something deliciously dangerous there. It made her press her tongue to the roof of her mouth to quell the urge to whimper. “You know . . . for my edification.”

  Lilith swallowed hard before she could speak, but then she grinned. She knew how to play this game. She knew how to win. She rolled onto her side, pressing her front against him, knowing her nipples were hard and brushing up against his skin. Taking his hand, she moved it to her ass, as if she were helping him by illustrating the part of her body they were discussing. “It depends on how red you want it.” She made her voice ever so slightly tentative, vulnerable. “A nice pink glow won’t cost you much.”

  She heard the way his breath stuttered before he could manage an answer. “No?” The word was scratchy.

  “No.” She reached back, pressing her palm to his hand. “It can be so nice. You feel the heat coming off the skin.”

  “Is that a fact?” His voice was so thick. His pupils were dilated and fixated on her lips as she spoke.

  She hummed her assent, reaching up to rub his cheek.

  As soon as he ducked his head, about to kiss her, she pulled back, just out of his reach. “Of course, if you want to make it so I have carry a pillow around to sit down, you’d better believe you’re going to compensate me for all that.”

  His confused expression told her he’d forgotten what the hell they’d been talking about for a moment. When his brain turned back on, he chuckled. “Well, I think that’s plenty reasonable.”

  Raising his hand, he drew his fingers through her hair. “Will you tell me what had you so worked up before?”

  Lilith growled, throwing one arm over her eyes. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “I’m aware.”

  For long minutes, she didn’t answer, and he seemed content to let her mull it over in silence.

  It seemed dangerous. Everything about Trey was uncharted territory, but this had warning lights and whistles all over it. Sometimes, this quasi-friendship, business partnership was unnerving. She felt dangerously close to forgetting the role she was supposed to be playing.

  Still, every one of her personas had to have friends, didn’t they? That was what Trey had called them—friends. So why not? Who else could she vent to?

  As she began to tell Trey about her birthday party the night before, she tried to play it off as no big deal. The more she spoke, though, the angrier she got just remembering how badly the man who was supposed to be her best friend had hurt her.

  Folding her arms, she glared at the ceiling. “You’d think I was selling drugs to kids or running a slave trade the way he acts. You know, every once in a while I do get to help someone. I’m not trying to say what I do is noble, but it’s not nothing. Sometimes the guys who come in are so stressed, and I can help them. And yeah, there are other ways to go about stress relief, but so what? This is the one I’m good at. Then there are guys who have no self-confidence. With me, for just awhile, they’re the biggest studs on the planet.”

  She looked at him, feeling small and stupid. “That’s not nothing, is it?”

  “You do a lot for me, so I don’t think that’s nothing.” He stroked her hair away from her eyes.

  This took her by surprise. “I do a lot for you?”

  “Sure.” He grinned at her. “I don’t think you realize how much stress a grad student has, particularly a younger one like me. Many of the professors and TAs, like our good friend Francis, don’t think I deserve to be where I am.” His eyebrows knitted together. “My family has more money than God. That doesn’t mean I didn’t work my ass off to be where I am.

  “Anyway, it’s very stressful, and that kind of stress does terrible things to the body and mind.” He bumped the tip of her nose with his finger. “Believe me, this is far preferable to some kind of break down.” His expression softened. “And if you want to know the truth, you’re a lot better company than most. My brother was right that night. I don’t get out too much. I don’t have a lot of friends, so this is . . . nice.”

  There was that word again. Friends. Lilith turned it over in her head wondering if it fit. She knew Mal and Dana were her friends. Yeah, she was pissed off at Mal, but that would blow over.

  If Trey knew everything about her, would he still call himself a friend?

  Rather than dwell on that happy topic, she shifted the subject. “It’s not like you can just walk into McDonald’s and get a job. And anyway, I can’t pay rent on that salary. My apartment is barely a box as it is.”

  “Did you know McDonald’s turns away more applicants a year than Harvard?”

  The comment cheered her. “Yeah, exactly.”

  He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “You could have called me, you know. I would have been there in a heartbeat.”

  Lilith was startled by this revelation. Though she’d thought about Trey more than was comfortable during her birthday celebration, she hadn’t thought about calling him. She’d never done more than text him to confirm a meeting time.

  It was a strange association they had.

  Before she could think of what to say, he was talking again, his words careful. “You know I don’t think you should be ashamed of what you do for a living. But this is a means to an end, isn’t it? Aren’t you working toward something else?”

  Already irritated, Lilith opened her mouth to yell.

  Trey put his hands up in a peacemaking gesture. “I’m not arguing Mal’s point. If you did work at McDonald’s, I would ask you the same question.”

  He shifted then, moving so he straddled her, holding all his weight on his arms and knees. Considering they’d been much closer together, it was odd that this felt so much more intimate. The way he was running his fingers down her cheek did things to her body that had nothing to do with their nudity. It was an different kind of titillation, and Lilith allowed herself a moment to bask in its warmth.

  “I know what you told me before about what you thought about this kind of work in the first place, but you must have had some kind of plan. You must have dreams.”

  Had there ever been a plan?

  At the beginning, it had been the easiest choice in the world. It was the difference between Dana’s complete destruction and keeping her friend on the right side of sanity. When Lilith discovered she could pay rent and then some, it had been a no brainer.

  She made one obvious choice after another. The aforementioned “then some” went to Dana’s schooling. Supporting both of them, there wasn’t a lot left over.

  Lilith allowed herself a few indulgences - a Kindle and a subscription to Netflix to feed her fiction habit. She couldn’t get enough of other people’s happily ever afters.

  No, to be honest, she hadn’t thought of what came next. She lived day to day, surviving as best she could. The last time she’d had dreams, they’d been the impossible kind that only children believed could come true. She had vague memories of wanting to be president.

  People told children they could be anything, but it wasn’t true.

  “What’s the point of thinking of all that?” she asked, looking at some nondescript spot over his shoulder. “When it gets to the point I can’t do this anymore, I’ll be what? A twenty-something girl whose only job was as an exotic dancer?” She shrugged. “I don’t want to think about it.”

  Her easy dismissal seemed to trouble him. He sat back, gathering her to him, and pulling her into a sitting position with him. “If you had to think about it,” he prompted.

  Annoyance shot through her, and she shook her head, reaching for her shirt. “Man, who knows? Maybe you’ll put in a good word for me at your fancy school, and I can get a job cleaning the floors, emptying the garbage. There’s nobility to that. Mal would be pleased.”

  “And solving impossible math equations out on the board when no one’s looking?
” He picked up on the movie she was referencing with ease.

  Untangling herself from him, she looked around for her pants. “I have to go.”

  “Lilith . . .”

  “Look, don’t worry about me, okay?” Her tone was sharp, brusque.

  He watched her move around the room. He’d drawn his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, his expression so sad, Lilith couldn’t stand to look at him.

  “Why don’t we go to lunch?”

  “No.”

  “If you don’t want to go out, I could make—”

  “Just stop.” She stood still for a second, her hands clenched at her side as she looked at him. “Don’t feel sorry for me. This was all my choice, and it was the right choice.”

  “Lilith, I didn’t—”

  “I have to go.” Before he could protest again, she was out the door.

  ~0~

  As much as Lilith tried, she couldn’t get the voices in her head to shut up. She tried to read but couldn’t concentrate. She turned on her favorite movies, but the dialogue may as well have been Charlie Brown’s parents for all she heard.

  Her thoughts were twisted, tangled. Every argument Mal made about why she shouldn’t do what she did, how she could do better if she tried, played in a loop.

  By now she knew Trey’s relentless questioning was innocent. He was a curious boy, and she supposed, to him, she led a curious life. He hadn’t meant to be condescending or mean, but his words had a definite effect on her.

  When had she started living like this—day to day, merely surviving?

  She saw no future in front of her. She had no dreams. She couldn’t say whether she wanted a boyfriend, children, or what kind of job she would have if she had the choice. If someone asked her what she wanted most, she would say to see Dana and Mal graduate. She wanted to go to Mal’s wedding, even if he did end up with Erin. She wanted to see Dana happy and at peace. But for herself, life was a blank canvas, gathering dust in the corner of a room, long forgotten.

  As the afternoon waned, turning to evening, Lilith had been pulled into a dark place.