Last Call (30 page)

I couldn’t stand to be near her and didn’t want to have to look at Royce. I simply wanted to run, and that’s what I did. I can barely find the energy to work out, and some days even eat. I miss her smile and the way she giggles at my stupid, little quips. I miss her eyes and how I would fall victim to every shimmery glance.

The look of her broken, sad eyes is all I dream about now. I don’t see her the way I once did, where she is craving my touch. Oh, no, all I see now is her damn navy blue eyes slicing up my insides.

Now, all I do is work and drink away my issues. I can’t even think of another woman, and the very beautiful women I employee at Vixen’s Room can’t stir any shred of excitement within me. My dick may as well have fallen off because it refuses to be aroused for anyone other than Mariah.

This will be my routine, I will work, drink, work, drink until I can once again stand to be around all the reminders of the woman I may love, if I allowed myself to even feel that way.

M
ariah

A
fter a long hiatus, girl’s night has finally been reinstated with the margaritas overflowing and the moaning of a dirty movie in the background. I am officially out of my ugly, pink, snowflake pajama pants after a couple of weeks of agony and have graduated to my simple, black yoga pants. I’m on the mend, though I am taking baby steps. The pink nightmare, as Shelby calls it, has been a major source of comfort for the last couple of weeks, and like any pair of hideous clothing, it’s only reserved for really bad, painful moments in my life.

For example, when I found out I was pregnant, I wore them for a month until I figured out how to tell my family I was nineteen and knocked up. Or the time when I got pneumonia and was confined to my bed, hacking my brains out, and the weight on my chest felt like a fat, hairy man was sitting on my rib cage for two weeks. This time, it’s my break up from Jason Cain.

Yeah, I’ve been sporting those snowflake bastards for the last two weeks. It was a long spell in those damn pants and a painful state of sadness I never want to experience again. I’d slip those pants on the moment I got home from work. And I wasn’t ashamed to grab them from my dirty laundry pile and pull them back on every night. Just like my feelings, my PJs were starting to rot.

It took me two weeks before I was able to accept life for what it was, and tonight, I am ready to put the pink PJs away and move on with my life. When Shelby came over last night and told me I smelled like a dirty ball sack, I figured it was time to give them a wash and my soul, as well, which leads us to tonight’s exciting events.

Giselle is sitting at the table, thumbing through the newspaper, reading up on her newest client, who happens to be my ex-lover; thus I have no desire to even look in her direction. I accompany Shelby on the couch as we watch the porno she brought over,
The Pink Pussy Palace
.

There is no plot to the movie, just a bunch of naked men and women having an orgy in someone’s living room. I can’t help thinking of the amount of bodily fluids accumulating on the carpet and couches. If you took a black light to them, it would light up brighter than the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center.

“I bet I could get pregnant just by sitting on that couch,” I say as I watch a man blow his load all over a woman’s face. “Seriously, look at that! And it’s only one guy. Can you imagine, when the other six men come, how fucking disgusting that couch is going to be in the end? And the face, really? It’s not like it’s a secret wrinkle eliminator; it’s fucking cum! Now she will smell like a sperm dumpster for the next man who’s ready to be near her. That’s fucking revolting!”

“It wouldn’t be girl’s night without your judgmental ass sayin’ something smart about my choice in movies.” Shelby laughs as she finishes her third drink.

“I’d hate for you to think I’ve changed after all this time away from our porno movie night,” I say, hugging her.

“So you’re in a good mood tonight?” Shelby asks with a questioning yet pleading look on her face. I know that look well. She’s about to ask for something, something she knows I probably don’t want to do.

“What do you want, Shelby?” I ask, then immediately wish I hadn’t.

“It is my birthday tomorrow, and I really don’t want to sit here and watch this shit.” She picks up the remote and shuts off the movie. “I want to go out, and I want to go to Toxic. A bunch of girls from my work said there will be a killer drink special, and I can’t fucking sit here knowing there are better things we could be doing.”

Yeah, I must be going insane or senile or something because this girl could not have said what she just said.

“Fat chance, bitch!” I shout to her, standing up, knowing she is going to pursue and not give up until she gets her way. But I refuse. I am not going to purposely go to the very club Jason owns, and where I first met him to subject myself to him on the prowl for my replacement. No way in hell! I just took off the pink nightmare pants; I don’t want to put them back on again.

“Look, it’s my birthday and I know we will have fun. He won’t even know that you are there. It’s not like we are going to be VIP or anything. We will be in the crowd, drinking and dancing. Please, Mariah, you know I don’t like to beg, but damn it, I’m not sitting here on my birthday, watching you wallow in self-pity. Yes, you loved Jason, and yes, it didn’t happen the way you hoped, but it’s time to start moving on with your life. The best way to do that is to get drunk and go dancing with me.”

“Shelby, there are a million clubs in Miami; we don’t have to go to Toxic,” I snap back, refusing to budge.

“Jason isn’t even in Miami,” Giselle says as she looks up from the paper. The thought is unsettling; I should be happy he’s not in Miami, but I’m not. All this proves is I’m not over him, and going to the club will be further proof of that. “He’s been staying in Los Angeles, working on a club he has there. We probably won’t even see him.”

I want to punch her right now because Shelby will never change her mind at this point.

As I look over at Shelby, she’s got her hands in a praying motion, begging me to go dancing at Toxic tonight. “Please, please, please.” She falls to her knees, looking so ridiculous. “You know me, and I would only get on my knees for no other reason than to suck a dick, but here I am. I am begging you with all that I have to go out for my birthday.”

As much as my mind tells me this is a horrible idea, I can’t ignore every other part of my body pleading with me to go. Besides, I could get used to seeing Shelby beg. The bitch is pretty good at it.

When I roll my eyes and nod my head, Shelby jumps up and down, dragging me down the hall to get dressed. Fuck, what the hell did I just agree to?

J
ason

From the moment I walked out on Mariah, I’ve been cloaked in regret. And I don’t do regret, never have. However, the night of her sister’s wedding and the words she shared with me sent me over the edge. I knew, in that moment, I could not be with her. I didn’t want to accept her love because I didn’t want to accept the change that would happen to my life. Moreover, I didn’t want to invite people in because I was absolutely convinced they’d leave again.

As I board the plane to head back to Miami, my gut sinks to my feet, knowing I am heading back to my tomb twenty-six stories in the air, the place I call home and my solace from the rest of the world. As much as I love my home, I can’t seem to be in it for more than thirty seconds without being reminded of the day at the beach, one of the best days of my life. It was the reason I left in the first place. However, I have no other choice.

There is nothing left for me to do in Los Angeles, and I can’t think of another valid excuse to stay here. The Vixen’s Room is fully repaired and up and running. If I want to keep my empire running, I have to be the boss man I set out to be. I can’t take a vacation from work and the mind numbing thoughts still looming in every memory I have. I must continue on and work, even if it kills me in the process.

While I slowly walk up the back staircase to my office at Toxic, the crowd is roaring below as they dance and drink the night away. When I walk in, I stand in the entry and freeze. I don’t want to be here. There are too many memories of her here. The window… It was the night I first felt her body pressed against mine, and the night of my torturous undoing.

I shake my head and walk straight for the bar, pouring a glass of Jameson. I tip the glass and guzzle down the whiskey, extinguishing my raging nerves, before moving to the couch, but then stop in my tracks, thinking of the last night I fucked Mariah in here. I was so angry with her and with myself.

However, the night we spent in the hotel was the best memory I created with Mariah. I knew it was going to be the last time we’d be together; as a result, I forgot about my self-conviction and simply loved her. I kissed her until we couldn’t possibly do it anymore. I looked into her eyes, seeing them look back at mine, and I knew, in that moment, she was the person who’d destroy me if I let her in.

I move to my desk and toss the contents of my pocket on the surface. I open my laptop and while my computer is booting up, I turn in my chair and open the panel of CCTV then switch them on. The light from the screens brightens the room as each one flips on. I take another sip of my drink, scanning the screens one by one, looking over the action happening below.

The outside line is long, like it normally is on a Thursday night. Ray is managing the crowd well, though. I move my eyes to the bar where the boys are running their asses off, but it doesn’t look like they are overwhelmed. I look up to the VIP and see the seats empty, which is pretty common for a Thursday night. We typically don’t have clients up there during the week. Finally, my eyes settle on the dance floor. There is a sea of people, all dancing as Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything” has the audience bouncing with excitement.

I take a moment to study the crowd, smiling like I usually do because this is exactly what I had wanted when I first opened this place. I wanted a jam-packed joint, everyone having a good time. This is what my business is all about, simply having a good time.

I take another drink from my whiskey, feeling the burn as it washes down my throat, when a familiar sway makes my eyes widen with surprise.
No, that can’t be
, I think as I slide forward in my chair and push the buttons to zoom in on the screen. My heart is racing as I wait the mere seconds for it to zoom in on the woman I let go two weeks ago.

It feels like an eternity, but she finally turns around and confirms I am not going crazy. Mariah is surrounded by her friends on the dance floor, spinning around with happiness. I take a moment to watch her. She looks amazing. Her long, brown hair is bouncing as she shakes her ass to the beat of the music. And that ass… Fuck, the way she moves her hips causes me to come alive for the first time in ages.

Watching her, she’s so lovely, reminding me that this woman is exactly what I need. She is the one person I’ve met who can make me feel entirely good about my life, and the one person who can destroy it in a single second. She is TNT, and if I don’t handle it with care, I will be blown into thousands of pieces. I will be obliterated.

Initially, it was all about how she could make my body feel. Fucking her was all that mattered, but as our time together drew on, I sensed there was more to her. It isn’t just her body that attracted me; it’s her soul, her smile, and the way she looks at me and accepts me for who I am.

I’ve been a major asshole to her, and she was accepting of it. She seemed to embrace it, knowing it’s just who I am. What the fuck was I thinking? How could I not accept this woman in my life? She has been the one, true person, the one who never allowed me to be anyone other than my true self.

God, I miss her touch and the comfort she gave me when all she had to do was be in the room. I miss her smile and the way she would challenge, frustrate, and excite me. I just fucking miss her. What’s more, I’m tired of the two weeks of fucking agony I’ve lived in.