Stanton Adore (7 page)

“I know, I need to sort my shit out and I will. I feel like maybe it’s coming to a head now he is back, and I will be able to finish it up.”

“Good,” Bridget smiles. “Can you imagine the shit that would go down if the family found out?” I roll my eyes, “Don’t even go there.”

Sunday morning I was positive I was going to hear from him. Sunday night I was pacing staring at my phone, willing the bastard to ring. Monday morning I had decided to ring him, Monday afternoon decided against it. I already looked desperate, looked desperate, god I am desperate. Monday night at the gym I ran 12kms, a feat I hadn’t done before. Ok, I train better when stressed, a no brainer here. Then I went home and ate a whole block of chocolate. Tuesday morning I had all but given up, he probably hadn’t even thought about it again. I’m over reacting as usual where he is concerned. He really is pissing me off though, ring damn you. At lunch time my work friend Simon walks into our staff room.

“Do you want to go grab some Sushi?”

“Sure why not?” I grab my bag. I love Simon he’s tall with blonde curly hair sort of surfie looking, not my type though. He’s hard to explain, but you know those guys that are just too nice. Anyway he’s a great friend and he always says the right things. There has got to be some perks to hanging out with Psychologists. We drive and then walk to our favourite Sushi Train in the city, a place we usually frequent about once a week when we have a long lunch. We plan them on the same days for this purpose especially. Simon is telling me in great detail about the date he had on the weekend. He thinks the girl is a stage one clinger, apparently she was talking babies. I smile, although my thoughts are anywhere but on Simon’s date and proposed children. He opens the door to the restaurant in an exaggerated bow and holds his arm out to me and I link mine with his.

“Our Sushi awaits my lady,” he gives me a wink. He always calls me my lady in reference to the historical romance novels I love. I smile at our ease with each other, he is so uncomplicated. Why can’t I love a guy like Simon? Why do I have to have Bastard player lover syndrome? We watch the train come around the table, while the group in front of us pay their account. They finish with the cashier and turn and I bump head first straight into Joshua. Ben and Adrian are behind him. Oh shit, I step back in shock. What are they doing here? My arm is still linked with Simon’s and I just stare at Joshua dumfounded, I did not expect this. Adrian comes forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi Natasha,” he smiles at me.

“Oh hi Adrian,” I push out. “Ben” I nod to him and he nods back. I smile at Joshua and he just glares at me.
Shit.
This is uncomfortable. Unable to control myself I take a quick peek at him, why does he have to be so damn attractive in his grey pinstripe suit? Looking all flawless. His dark olive skin and square jaw only accentuate his piercing blue eyes. His body radiates power and at the moment……anger. I can feel the contempt dripping from his every pore. Of course, I look like total shit in my scrubs and no makeup. This is a total disaster. I drop Simons arm like a hot potato.

“Umm, this is Simon.” I introduce him to the three men.

Adrian shakes his hand first. “Nice to meet you, Adrian.”

Simon smiles, “Pleasure.” Then Ben holds out his hand, Simon shakes it and then Simon holds out his hand to shake Joshua’s hand. Joshua stares at him blank faced and keeps his hands in his pockets unwilling to shake his hand, I frown uncomfortably.

Simon raises his eyebrows. “Problem?” he says to Joshua.

Joshua glares at him. “You tell me.” He snaps. Oh shit, what is he playing at?

Adrian cuts in. “We had better be going,” he seems embarrassed. “Lovely to see you Tash,” he smiles and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. Ben smiles and Joshua storms off. Simon and I look at each other. I am unable to hide my horror.

“Who was that?” Simon frowns.

“Ex-boyfriend,” I mutter.

“I know why he’s an ex. He’s a prick.” I smile and nod nervously. I hardly taste my damn Sushi I just stare into space. Simon is oblivious, he is rambling on and on about crap, who cares whatever. For ten minutes I listen to his constant jabbering, he is really starting to annoy me now. Just shut the fuck up I’m trying to think here, I’m holding my temples. What an absolute bastard, I am boiling mad. How dare he be so rude to my verbal diarrhoea friend? I take out my phone and text the number I have for him not even knowing if that is in fact still his number

You’re an asshole

I wait and scowl, it probably isn’t even his number. I stole it off Mum’s phone about two years ago. Bloody Mum, can’t even save a number right. My phone beeps a message

No you’re the asshole

What!
Is he kidding? How am I an asshole? How dare he? Who the hell does he think he is? I text back

You have got to be kidding

I smile. There that showed him, how dare he say I’m an asshole? I am definitely not an asshole. He is unfucking believable. My phone beeps a message

FUCK OFF

What the fuck? Red steam is shooting out of my ears. No guy, or anyone actually has ever told me to fuck off, and especially not in capital letters in print. I am infuriated. I want to throw my new iPhone across the restaurant. I start to drum my fingers on the table, double time. Simon is still oblivious to my rage, god he really is docile.

“Come on lets go,” he smiles. What shall I text back, I need the upper hand. I am tapping my front tooth with my finger nail while I think. Simon is right, he really is a prick. I sit in Simon’s car silently looking out the window as I troll my brain for a good come back. I’ve got nothing. Use your brain Natasha I’m sure there’s one in there somewhere. I just know at 2am tomorrow morning an awesome comeback is going to pop into my head and it will haunt me for the rest of my life. I have to text now or it will look like I am thinking about my reply, even though I am. This is a total disaster. In the end I text the lamest reply in human history

Gladly

That night at Oscar’s, Bridget and Abbie laugh as they read the texts.

“How did it go from you’re an asshole, to fuck off?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head as they continue to pass my phone to each other.

“And why does he think you’re an asshole?” I slump on the table and put my face into my hands. “Probably because I am an asshole, a stupid beyond belief asshole.”

They laugh again. “He knows you better than you think.”

“Thanks a lot,” I sigh. “This isn’t funny bitches.”

“Yes it is.” They both huddle together and giggle. “It’s frigging hilarious.”

Wednesday at work drags, I’m still fuming. I have thought of nothing else since I saw him yesterday. Fuming is a lot more satisfying than pining. I’m just so off him. After lunch I get a text from Bridget.

We are going out tonight. Spying on Jeremy, time to bust a move

Great, I smile as I read the text. I need some NCIS action and it will take my mind off prick face. I text back

Sounds good, is Abbie coming

She replies.

Of course, meet me at mine at seven
K

We are standing together in a line in Bridget’s bedroom looking at our reflection in the mirror. “We look like hookers,” I grimace.

“That’s the point,” she replies.

“Are you sure you read the email right?”

She nods. “Yes what do you think, I just thought this shit up?” Jeremy accidently left his email open last night and Bridget snooped, apparently he is going to an upmarket strip club tonight with his work friends and we are going to sneak into the joint to bust him in the act.

“What time does it open?”

“Half an hour,” she replies. “We had better get going.”

An hour later we are sitting at a table in the back corner of what is probably the classiest night club I have been in. The walls are a deep smoky grey and the lounges and pendant lights are all in black velvet. Huge silver gilded mirrors hang on the walls and giant palm trees are in massive ceramic pots surrounding the perimeter. Whoever the interior designer was, hit the target. It can only be described as sensual. I have never been in a space like this before, it screams opulence and fantasy. The sound system is amazing, the music seems to be surrounding us.

“This wig is itchy,” I scratch my scalp.

“Why did you wear it then?”

“Because I don’t want to run into one of my patients. I’m in disguise.”

“Oh phooey, you look like Natasha with a long blond wig on.”

I nod as I sip my Margarita, “Yeah I know. Mmmm this is good, it’s super icy. Do you see him?” We all look around.

“No, it’s pretty empty actually. We all relax.

A cute blonde bartender comes over. “Can I get you beautiful ladies anything to drink?”

“Sure, three more Margaritas thanks.” He smiles and nods. “What’s upstairs?” I ask as if interested.

“Just more booths with views to the stage.” We all nod trying our best to look cool and uncaring. “Is anyone up there?” I ask. He smiles and shakes his head, he is so onto us. “No one yet,” he gives me a wink. We all nod a little more than relieved. At the end of the bar there is a second set of stairs there is a large red velvet rope across the bottom of the stairwell.

“What’s up there?” I ask.

“That’s the VIP room for private parties.”

Abbie frowns, “Private parties?”

He nods and smiles. “Yes only one group at a time.”

“What goes on up there?” Bridget asks.

He shakes his head and smiles. “You don’t want to know.” We are all shocked to silence.

“Is anyone up there now?” Abbie asks.

“No it costs $5000.00 just to get up there.” We all look to each other.

“Do people really pay that?” I question.

“You would be surprised, it’s used every night.”

“What do you get for five grand?” Bridget asks.

He smiles as he walks off. “Anything you want, pretty much. But mostly sex and cocaine.”

“Wow,” I mouth to the girls, they nod in agreement. “Shit, anything you want” I chew my ice. “This place is a high class brothel.” Oh shit, a disturbing thought enters my brain. Panic sets in.

“Bridget what are you going to do if we do see him here? Please don’t cause a scene.” I’m beginning to regret this decision to come here, it could get embarrassing.

“I’m not giving him the satisfaction,” she sneers. “I am just going to watch him and then dump him tomorrow and tell him I’m sleeping with someone with a massive dick who rocks in the sack.” We all laugh, good plan I like it. The music starts, and the song Bad to the Bone blares through the sound system, we all smile. Of course this song is playing, so typical strip joint. A beautiful blonde saunters down the catwalk, she looks like she just stepped off a Sports Illustrated Cover shoot, all muscly and oiled up, although the fake tan is to the extreme. She oozes confidence. She intimidates the three of us as we all sit in silence, entranced like she is dancing just for us. As she gets to the end of the runway she slams into the side splits, shit she’s flexible too. She comes straight up into a bend back to handstand up. Yep, she’s good alright. She slowly but surely commands everyone’s attention in the room, including ours. We watch riveted as she slowly peels every piece of clothing from her hot body. She’s a dancer obviously, and I have to say she is blowing the preconceived idea of what a stripper looks like out the window.

“Fuck she’s hot” Abbie whispers, I nod unable to take my eyes off her and Bridge answers, “I know, right.” She doesn’t look easy she looks alluring, sexy. She takes off her bra to expose the best set of fake tits I have ever seen. We all sit mesmerized mouths open.

“That’s it,” Bridget whispers. “Decision made, I’m getting my boobs done.”

We all nod. “Good idea,” notes Abbie. As she slowly turns around to turn her back to the audience and bends over without bending her knees and slides her G String down her legs to reveal her beautifully pink vagina and anus, not a hair in sight.

“Holy crap,” Abbie whispers. “I think I’m in love.” The whole club including us are collectively holding their breath, as she slowly starts to touch her breasts with both her hands we all lean in toward the stage.

“Fuck this is hot,” Bridget whispers. I nod, still too entranced to speak. She lays on her back with her legs spread to the audience and starts to finger fuck herself in time with the music, groaning and writhing on the floor. We all look to each other wide eyed, and a little shocked to be honest. I don’t know what we were expecting but it wasn’t intimately watching an attractive woman bring herself to orgasm. She slowly brings her fingers to her lips and starts to suck them in her mouth. The audience makes a collective groan,
shit
. We are so out of our depth here. She rolls to her knees and puts her rear to the audience still going hell for leather with her fingers. We all sit shocked, silent and wide eyed as she brings herself to a screaming orgasm. Moment pass she sits up onto her knees and sucks her fingers dry. The crowd goes wild with every one rising to a standing ovation, including us. She stands and bows, the room is a buzz. The atmosphere is suddenly pumped full of testosterone and pheromones. We clink our glasses together and giggle.

“Holy shit,” I whisper. “Why am I turned on?”

“I know, right.” Bridge nods.

Abbie laughs while draining her glass, “I have a good mind to give her my number.”

After about our sixth cocktail and having lost any inhibition we ever had, we realize we are actually having a really good time. “Girls I don’t want to sound pervy but I actually love this place. The girls are all gorgeous, classy and entertaining. The cocktails are amazing. And look at the crowd,” Abbie gestures around the room with her hands. “The crowd are all well behaved, all staying silently in their seats. If this was a male strip show the woman would be screaming like lunatics and jumping on stage trying to rip clothes off.” We all pull a disgusted face.

“I know, I always assumed strip joints would be the same, but they are definitely not on the same page. This is top shelf though remember,” we all nod. A few acts more, more beautiful girls I make a surprising discovery.