Stay (3 page)

I’d just finished putting on a second coat of
mascara when the buzzer announced his arrival.

I was a little nervous but excited to be alone with
Max for a few hours. Earlier I’d even sneaked a cigarette or two to
calm my nerves. It was a nasty habit I’d picked up a few months
after walking away from Luke. I’d convinced myself it was okay
since I only smoked when my nerves got the best of me, but that
seemed to happen on a daily basis. I was now that person. The one
who believed they didn’t have a problem. I was not an “official
smoker” since I didn’t smoke everyday. Who was I kidding? But, at
least I hadn’t turned to drugs or alcohol to combat my life like so
many people that I’d met since then.

On top of making several visits to a support group
for survivors of the sexually abused, I’d attended a few AA classes
with the guidance of my therapist, even though I wasn’t a drinker.
She had been clean for fifteen years, and thought it would benefit
me to hear a few familiar stories. I went to a few sessions with
her to support her, met some amazing people, and listened. So many
times it was like my story was on repeat, but it wasn’t me talking.
I knew I wasn’t alone. I knew it happened all the time, but it
still left me with a sense of distrust. That loss of security that
your family was supposed to deliver-unconditional love and all
that. I didn’t have that from my parents. I did with Jeremy, Dean
and Luke, but not my own mother or father. I started to wonder how
could I really love someone enough if I couldn’t love myself
wholly. I felt tainted.

Our shifts didn’t start until ten, so that gave us a
few hours to get to know one another outside of work, away from our
coworkers. It’d been a long time since I’d let anyone get remotely
close. I sighed, briefly thinking of Luke as I made my way to the
front door. God, I missed Luke. Everything about him. I wished he
could’ve fixed me. I wished I had the strength to reach out to him
and tell him to come get me. But, I didn’t. He knew the truth now,
and I refused to stare into those eyes to only see pity. I couldn’t
fathom him every being able to look at me like nothing happened.
That I wasn’t broken. Because I sure as hell felt like I was.

“Hello,” I spoke into the box as I pressed the gray
button.

“It’s Max.”

“Come on up. I’m almost ready,” I said before
buzzing him inside. I didn’t live in the greatest neighborhood, so
the buzzer made me feel somewhat safer. As did the three extra
deadbolts I had Jimmy install after getting the crap scared out of
me a few months back. Some drunk had gotten inside and made a huge
scene looking for his girlfriend who used to live in my apartment.
I was renting from Jimmy who happened to own this building as well
as the club. It was one of those apartment buildings considered
low-income housing. Jimmy liked owning it because it was guaranteed
that he’d receive the monthly rent from his other tenants since the
state paid their bills. Subsidized housing at its finest.

I opened the door a minute later to see Max jogging
up the steps. He stopped, his eyes locked with mine. “Wow! You look
great. I’ve never seen you with your hair down.” Absentmindedly, I
ran my fingers through my dark, wavy hair. “Yeah, I like to keep it
up when I’m working. It gets hot in there with all the lights.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly to a small
smile. “You should wear it down more often.”

I smiled back. “Let me grab my uniform,” I said,
rolling my eyes. My uniform changed depending on the night. It was
Friday, so I’d be wearing a leopard leotard that enhanced
everything, a garter belt clipped to black silk stockings, and a
long tail attached to my ass. I hated this one, but it did bring in
good tips. “So, where are we going?” I asked, locking the door
behind us.

“I hope you like Spanish food. There’s this little
tapas restaurant not far from work, so I thought we’d stop in
there, have a bite. Maybe a drink or two.”

“That’s sounds great.”

Leisurely, we walked down the street, but after
several minutes of me rambling, Max’s fingers linked with mine,
putting me at ease. He squeezed once, letting me know he was still
paying attention. His hand felt comfortable in mine, the way it
fit, how strong it felt. It reminded me of Luke for a split second.
I shook my head, clinging to Max’s hand, trying to erase Luke from
my memory. It was a shame to even try-why would I want to wipe away
the one person besides Jeremy who ever meant anything to me? The
simple pleasure of holding another man’s hand was a huge step for
me. I’ll never be over Luke-ever-but deep down I knew that I needed
to make that step.

“You okay? You seem a little lost there.”

“I’m good. Just hungry is all.” As I spoke, he
released my hand to open a solid mahogany door that led to an entry
decorated with red velvet drapes parted down the middle, tied back
with huge golden tassels. The room’s lighting was subtle and low,
creating a beautiful ambiance. Taking it all in, I peered up at
Max. He watched me, a huge smile on his face.

“Will this do?”

I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to hide my
smile. “It’s perfect.” This was my first date in one year, six
months, twenty days, and three hours. But who’s counting? Luke and
I had been a couple for a year and a half. Sometimes it was even
hard for me to believe that Luke and I finally got together after
all those years of being just friends. But, he told me he knew back
in high school that the two of us were going to happen-it was
always just a matter of when.

I’d go up every weekend to spend time with him. The
night I left was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. And I’d
been through some shitty nights in my life. But I couldn’t bring
myself to tell him the full truth. It would only make him hate me,
resent me later for the secret I held inside. I’d wanted so badly
to tell him everything, but how could I be the one to stop him from
living the life he so fondly talked about? All of those things I
wanted to share with him. But while he slept soundly next to me
that night, I took the easy way out. The cowardly way out. There
were two reasons for me leaving Chicago behind. My first reason was
horrible, one I couldn’t face anymore, which I explained in his
letter; the second, I couldn’t bear to write it down in black and
white.

A petite woman with a heavy accent led us to a table
in the back. Max pulled out my chair and then sat across from me.
We studied the menu but Max ordered for us both, since I didn’t
know what everything was.

“So, Maggie,” he said, tapping his fingers on the
table, “tell me. What’s your story?”

I shrugged. “Nothing to tell. I have no story.” The
waitress brought over the pitcher of sangria and filled our
glasses.

Once she left, he leaned over the table. “Everyone
who comes to New York has a story, Maggie.”

I liked Max but there was no way I was ready to
dredge up my past. “Well, I’m not ready to tell mine. What about
you?”

He took a sip, shrugging. “Why don’t you try
guessing?”

“Let’s see ...” I ran my finger over the rim of my
glass a few times, studying him. “Running from an ex? No, that’s
not it. Running from the law, the cops. Am I getting close?” Max
had this huge grin on his face as I continued to spout out
different ideas. After several failed attempts, he shook his head.
“Ah, you see, you don’t know me at all. That kind of hurts after
hanging with you for the last few months.”

“I’m sorry, I …”

Max grabbed hold of my hand, squeezing it. “I was
just kidding. Relax.” He released my hand and sat back in his
chair, resting his hands behind his head. “I was the golden boy.
Maxwell James Carragher the Third,” he laughed lightly. “You know,
one of those who had so much potential but never measured up to his
family’s expectations. My dad wanted me to follow in his footsteps.
He’s a lawyer. He owns a practice in Boston, wanted me to go to
Columbia Law. And I did for three months, then dropped. It wasn’t
what I wanted. I don’t know, I just can’t be a lawyer. I don’t see
myself sitting in an office from nine to five.”

“What do you want to do?” I asked.

“I wish I knew. I haven’t figured it out. But I’ll
be damned if I run back home with my tail between my legs asking
for a handout. So, that’s why I’m here, and that’s why I bartend at
the club. It’s good money. The nights I have off there, I wait
tables at Monroe’s. You know that ritzy, posh place on 5th Avenue?
Now there’s some kick-ass money to be had.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know that place.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“No! I just don’t get out much. I’m kind of a
private girl, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed you, Maggie. You stand out like a
diamond in the rough.” One day I hoped to blend in with all the
other girls, but Max told me from the beginning that it would never
happen. The first time he walked me home, he told me that I exuded
innocence, whatever that meant. In the end, I was afraid it was
going to make me feel like some kind of failure working there, like
some alien imposter because I didn’t blend in. And if he picked up
on it, maybe everyone else did too.

His story of how he noticed me gave me goosebumps. I
felt like a nervous teenager again. We spent the next two hours
eating, talking, and almost finishing the entire pitcher of
sangria. My head was a little fuzzy, but otherwise I felt not so
sad for the first time in a long time. I wished I had moved to New
York sooner, instead of staying in Cleveland for so long. I didn’t
like it there. If it weren’t for the pro bono therapist who helped
me those twelve months and the money from waitressing, I never
would’ve stayed so long. Now, I had to pay for one. So, I was
unable to see her as much as I’d liked. That’s another why I’d
taken her up on joining her to the AA meetings. She didn’t charge
me when we met there. She had to go and always invited me along
knowing I had a hard time affording her sessions in the office.

“What about you? What do you want to do? I’m
positive you don’t want to wait tables at the club forever,” he
asked.

“No, I don’t. I want to own a bakery.”

“So, cupcakes and birthday cakes?”

“Everything. Cakes, bread, fresh
sandwiches-everything would be homemade. No processed crap. That’s
what I want to do.” I couldn’t believe I was talking about my dream
out loud-the dream that I could only hope would come true. The one
I haven’t told a soul in two years. The one I wouldn’t let myself
think too hard about.

His hand rested on mine, stopping me. “Well, why
don’t you?”

I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t have the money. I can
barely make rent. I didn’t even finish college. I have no clue how
to do it, or raise the funds to do it. But someday I’ll get my
dream. I’m not giving up. I’m saving whatever I can.”

“You could always move up to dancing. You know Jimmy
would love you to. The girls constantly talk about the money they
make. It’s not like it would be forever.”

I shook my head several times in an attempt to
convince myself that his idea was ludicrous. “No. I couldn’t strip
for a living. I just couldn’t. It’s bad enough having to wear those
outfits, and have dirty men groping me all night. Not that there’s
anything wrong with stripping, it’s just not for me.”

Max shrugged, getting out of his chair to move
beside me. “You should think about it.” His hands cupped my face.
“I mean, I personally would kick any guy’s ass if he even went near
you.” And then he kissed me. His lips were soft and light on mine.
When I didn’t protest, his hands slipped around me. I was too
stunned to stop and I actually enjoyed the feeling of his mouth so,
I parted my lips slowly allowing his tongue to slip through. When
it did, he moaned deeply, his eyes searching mine as he pulled back
slightly. “Jesus, Maggie, I’ve been waiting forever to do
that.”

***

Max and I had been dating for two months, and
tonight I knew what he was hoping for. I was wrapped in his arms,
letting him kiss every inch of me. This was the furthest I’d let
him go. My clothes were scattered on his floor, next to his jeans
and T-shirt. This would be the first time I was giving myself
willingly to anyone other than Luke. And I was scared. My breathing
grew rapid with each tender stroke of his hand on my bare skin. My
pulse accelerated as his mouth gingerly made its way toward my
stomach. His hands wandered over my breasts, then slowly down the
curves as he scanned my partially naked body. And dear God did I
like how his hands felt.

I felt an intense need to be with him tonight, to
let him know that I cared for him. To feel secure. To feel loved
again. To let somebody else in for once. That I was finally ready
for this after two months of dating and kissing. He’d been more
patient than I honestly expected, never once pushing me to do
anything I didn’t feel comfortable with. He even said once when I
turned him away that he didn’t mind waiting for me, because he knew
when we finally made love, it would be perfect.

His hand worked its way to my inner thigh, lingering
at the lace on my panties. He lifted his face slightly and looked
into my eyes, questioning if he should continue. I nodded and he
smiled back to me. He slipped his finger inside of me, then two
fingers. A few seconds later he moaned, “Damn, you’re tight, babe.
Relax.” He slipped his fingers in and out a few more times, helping
me loosen up, and God, it felt good. Max shimmied up my stomach,
trailing kisses until he reached my mouth, keeping his finger
inside me. He nuzzled my neck softly, knowing how much I liked it.
His finger slipped out as he tenderly tried to push my leg to the
side. But it didn’t budge, even with the ache I had for him to be
inside me.

“C’mon, Maggie,” he murmured. “Be a good girl and
open up a little more.” Even though he didn’t know anything about
my past, his words still triggered that feeling. The one that made
me want to scream at the top of my lungs. Instead, I froze. The
memories of that night hit me like I was back in my room and twelve
years old. The image of my father, the smell of his breath by my
ear as he whispered those words to me.