Chapter 2
Gail
M y neck is beyond stiff and sore after the hours in the chair at the hairdresser, but as I admire my new hairdo in the window next to the booth we sit in at O’Jackie’s, I can’t complain. Totally worth it.
“Stop checking yourself out,” Luce cackles.
I pick up the Cosmo and eagerly suck on the straw. “Why would I do that? My hair looks outrageously epic.” I playfully waggle my eyebrows.
My bestie nods and snaps another picture of me. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s you, Gail.” She takes a sip of her soda. The traitor has abandoned alcohol, apart from special occasions. “Explain it to me again, and use small words so I can follow.”
I laugh nervously. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Try.”
Sighing, I lean against the wall behind me. “All my life I’ve done the right thing, you know? But look at where it’s gotten me. I’m twenty-eight, single, no kids, and now jobless. It’s… I feel like I’ve wasted years doing what is right instead of doing what feels right.”
“I get that,” Luce says, and I’m relieved there’s no judgment in her tone or eyes. “So you’re, what, exactly? Rebelling? Screwing the man?”
We both burst out laughing. “Kinda,” I hiccup, swiping tears of laughter away from my eyes. “I just want to do something for myself. Something to discover myself. So I…” Trailing off, I look down at the table.
It’s not easy opening up about my struggles, especially to someone as close to me as Luce. My fucked up brain tells me I’ve let her down and that she’ll be disappointed. But as we sit across from each other at O’Jackie’s, I know I need to get this off my chest. There is also so much to say, I’m struggling with where to begin.
Luce takes my hand, holding it tightly. “So you, what?” she prompts.
I look around, making sure no one is close enough to hear what I’m about to say. “After I got the letter saying I was fired starting in January, I became…” Pausing, I swallow. “I just got… I got really depressed,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I felt like such a failure. Like I’d let everyone down—”
Luce’s sharp voice silences me. “Abigail Rosie Wilson! Stop that shit right now. You haven’t let anyone down. Christ, it’s not your fault the city has budget cuts. It’s no secret that you like to be in charge of everything, but I think that’s outside even your control.”
I know the last part is meant as a joke, but it still tugs at me in a negative way, and I immediately press my lips together and pull my hand from hers. Squeezing my eyes shut, I slowly count backwards from five to compose myself.
“Maybe it is my fault,” I snap. Okay, so the counting did fuck all.
She straightens in her seat. “Look at me,” she demands, her tone unwavering. When I meet her eyes, they’re filled with concern. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Her tone is soft and tinged with a sadness I know is on my behalf.
I shake my head, feeling a lump form in my throat. “We weren’t really talking at the time,” I confess, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. “But Jamie... Jamie was there for me. When I kept refusing to go see my doctor to get some antidepressants, he got me some St. John’s Wort—”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a mild antidepressant you don’t need a prescription for. Anyway, it’s been helping with the depression.”
As I speak, I can see the concern in Lucia’s eyes lessen, and I feel a sense of relief wash over me. Opening up about my struggles is never easy, but knowing that Lucia is here to listen makes it a little bit easier to bear.
“Okay,” Luce says once I’m done talking. “Well, I’m here now, Gail. So what do you need?”
Tears well in my eyes. “I just need you to be here for me.” Tossing my freshly dyed locks over my shoulder, I add, “And tell me how amazing my hair looks.”
She bursts out laughing. “You’ve always been stunning. If I was into girls, I’d have put a ring on your finger years ago.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh so hard my stomach and sides hurt. “Damn straight,” I hiccup. “We would make the perfect couple.”
We continue to talk, and the more we say, the smaller the ball in my stomach becomes. As the hours pass by, I feel nice and loose, almost invincible. And it’s not just because of the alcohol, it’s how I always feel with Luce.
She’s in the middle of telling me about the dress for her and her hubby’s big New Year’s plans. By all accounts, it sounds like it’s going to be an epic affair with most of the Sabertooths, partners, and other friends.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the party?” Luce whines. When I shake my head she pouts. “Can’t believe my bestie and Sy’s best friends are all skipping out on us. Surely that’s breaking some kind of friend code. Hey, we should totally sue you, Mickey, and Soren.” She smiles evilly.
I do my best not to react at the mention of Sawyer’s teammates, but of course I fail, my body betraying me big time.
“Wait,” Luce says, grinning knowingly. “Why did you blush when I mentioned the two troublemakers?”
“Did not,” I argue weakly.
“Abigail!”
“Lucia.”
She grabs my hand again, squeezing it, her eyes never leaving mine. “Did something happen between the three of you after Sy and I left O’Jackie’s that one time?”
My cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and I know they’re a deep red as another blush spreads across my skin. “Not exactly,” I admit.
She tilts her head to the side, her green eyes studying me. “Are you going to make me keep asking questions?”
“No,” I huff. “Look, nothing happened. We drank, we danced, we laughed. And then they joked about a threesome.”
“They did what?” she screeches.
“Down girl. I didn’t go for it,” I say, waving her off. “I… couldn’t.”
Luce’s lips form an O. “What do you mean you couldn’t? Were you on your period or something?” When I don’t immediately answer, she squeezes my hand tighter. “Come on, you have to give me something.”
Taking a moment, I twirl a lock of hair around my index finger while mentally trying to figure out how to tell her why I couldn’t accept the threesome, even though I really wanted to.
My hesitation has nothing to do with Luce, and everything to do with me. I know she won’t judge me, but I’m scared I’ll judge myself when I say it out loud. But if I can’t speak the words, maybe I’m not as ready as I think I am.
Steeling myself, I begin explaining. “After I got the notice, I was desperate for something to do, so I—”
Something in my tone, or maybe it’s my poor word choice, makes Luce look shocked. “Oh my God, Gail. Tell me you haven’t been whoring yourself out!” she sounds so horrified I immediately feel my hackles rising.
“So what if I have?” I volley.
Rather than answering me right away, she drinks the last of her soda and tilts her head to the side. “Just answer one thing for me.”
“Okay,” I agree on a whisper.
“Are you doing… whatever it is you’re doing because you need money or because you want to?”
I don’t hesitate to answer. “Because I want to.” It’s the truth. “I… umm… I wanted to try something new. So back when I stayed with Jamie, I looked into different things. Then I came across this blog written by someone who’s a teacher by day, and a sex worker by night.”
“Oh, wow.”
Nodding, I continue. “In her podcasts she sounded so happy, and her blog posts were filled with the happiness she found in fulfilling this… other side of herself.”
Luce nods, drumming her fingers across the table. “Okay…”
“It just resonated with me,” I say, running a hand through my freshly dyed hair. “Like, it actually felt like she was speaking my truth. So I decided to reach out to her, and she recommended a club to me. Cupid’s Court.”
Luce cackles. “Cupid’s Court, huh?”
I blush. “Yeah, what can I say, it fits.”
Now that I know she’s not judging me, the words fall freely. Before I know it, I’ve told her that I reached out to them, and that they gave me a trial on Halloween. But since there hadn’t been enough time to clear my health-check, and since I didn’t know for sure what I wanted, I was working the floor.
With my identity hidden beneath a mask, I got to see everything without being seen. Which is good since I don’t know what kind of people come there. According to the woman whose blog led me there, the clients range from normal people looking to let loose, to people in powerful positions with specific kinks. Apparently, there are even a few celebrities.
“So I went, and it was… Luce, I’m not lying when I say I felt like Alice when she followed the white rabbit down the hole.”
“Where was it? Here in Minneapolis?” Luce asks, excitement making her almost bounce in her chair. Nodding, I explain about the limo that came to pick me up and drop me off, which gave it all a very Eyes Wide Shut feel. “Oh my God, did you have to wear a blindfold?”
Grinning, I take a large swig of my now lukewarm cocktail. “Yep. The location for their parties changes and they keep it secret. But I know where their actual offices are, so it feels very safe.”
“That sounds seriously awesome,” she gushes. “So, can I ask how many men you were with?”
I smirk. “You can ask, but I’ll never tell.” There isn’t much to tell, but I’m not ready to share that part yet.
Cupid’s Court takes their business seriously, so much so that I had to provide a clean bill of health from my doctor, as well as to allow their own medical team to examine me. Once they determined I was healthy and safe, they put me on their approved birth control.
The entire process didn’t complete until mid-November, so all I did for Halloween was serve drinks—Poisoned Apple Martinis, to be exact. Sure, I got groped by a few men, but it wasn’t sleazy or unwanted.
It was… alluring.
Lucia clucks, annoyed with my evasive answer. “If you don’t start giving me some real details, I’ll imagine the worst. And you know what happens then.”
“Okay,” I agree, swallowing thickly. “For New Year’s, I’ve been booked by two guys.”
“Really?” she screams, immediately slapping a hand over her mouth. “How did that happen?”
We both look around to make sure no one is paying us any attention. This is the downside to my bestie marrying Sawyer Perry, the forward for the Minneapolis Sabertooths; she gets recognized everywhere. But since Jackie herself adores Luce’s husband, she’s good at keeping people away from us.
“Shit, sorry,” Luce murmurs sheepishly.
Waving her off, I answer the question. “The reason I had to say no to Mickey and Soren was because I’d signed up for the Cupid’s Court New Year’s Eve blowout. But no one had booked me, so after I rejected them I changed my… umm, what I was willing to do. And I included a threesome. Less than twenty-four hours later, I was booked.”
“Damn, look at you living your wildest life, Gail,” Luce grins. “So, did you have to do any training or something?”
I burst out laughing. “Training?”
“Yeah,” she cackles, waggling her eyebrows. “Like learn how to be submissive and shit?”
Shaking my head, I scoff. “No, Luce, it isn’t like that.” I don’t know if that’s true for everyone, but it is for me.
My instructions were clear; do what the guys wanted. Sure, I have received a small heads-up about their specific kinks, so to speak. One of them wants me to do as he says, without being too willing, whatever that means. The other wants the relationship experience.
When I asked Cupid’s Court how to best deliver those two things, which sounds contradicting to me, I was told that’s my job to figure out. Excitement spreads through my body as I consider my options, and there’s no denying how much I look forward to it.
“Look, you have to tell me everything about it afterwards, okay?” Luce says, interrupting my thoughts.
“During the after cigarette? Or can I wait until the next day?” I grin, loving how easily she’s accepting this.
Luce purses her lips, doing her best to look put out. “I suppose I can wait until the next day if I must,” she laughs. “Seriously though, you do you, Gail. I would never judge you.”
Right now, I can’t for the life of me remember why I was scared to tell Luce. She’s always had my back, and despite the lies she had to tell me about herself and her family, I know now that our friendship was always real.
“I know, buttercup,” I say.
And because she’s an ass, she changes the subject completely. “You know your parents will freak when they see your new hair, right?” She smiles slyly.
Don’t I fucking know it? I love my family, and they love me. No sob stories or misunderstandings are preventing us from being together. But they’re so… safe. They taught me to be a good girl, and I listened for twenty-eight years. I know they won’t understand, just like I know they’ll see my new hair as me acting out—or a cry for help.
None of that matters right now, though. All I can think about is two days from now, and how I’ll be spending my New Year’s Eve. Hopefully welcoming the new year with a bang, literally.
“Oh, Sy’s here!” Lucia suddenly exclaims. “And he brought company.”
“No,” I whine, already knowing who’s here with him. “I should leave.” Damnit, if I’d known Mickey and Soren would show up, I wouldn’t have been drinking alcohol. I really need my wits about me when those two are nearby. Self-consciously, I pull the hood on my zip-up hoodie over my head, hiding my hair behind the fabric.
Luce cackles. “You know it,” she winks.
The door opens, and in walks Sawyer, Luce’s husband, flanked by his two best friends; Mickey, the left defender for the Sabertooths, and Soren, their goalie. Gah, those two are like sin personified, and I have to try my best not to drool or say something exceptionally stupid, like, “Is it too late to change my mind about that threesome?”
“Well, are we making it a party or what?” Soren smirks as he comes to sit down on my right.
“Hell yeah,” Mickey answers, taking the seat on my left.
Luce just smiles deviously at me, so I maturely flip her off and mouth, “Fuck you.”
The guys buy rounds upon rounds of drinks, and the talk is as easy as the one time I was alone with them here at this very pub.
“So Gail,” Soren says, casually throwing his arm around my shoulder. “Are you ever going to remove the hood and let your hair fall down?” At first, I think he’s teasing, but the husky quality of his tone suggests otherwise.
“Actually,” I gulp, feeling put on the spot.
I don’t get to finish making up an excuse before Luce suggests we go to the bathroom. She’s using that tone that tells me I need to follow her, so I do. When we get into the small cubicle, she tears her scarf off and hands it to me.
“Umm?” I ask, looking at the fabric like it’s offended me. “Do you want me to hold it?”
“No, dummy,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “I want you to wrap it around your hair instead of hiding behind your hoodie. It’s awkward, and it looks like you’re trying to hide yourself like… like… a chastity belt for your hair.”
I sputter. “Like a what?”
She impatiently moves behind me and skillfully begins to wrap the scarf around my head in a makeshift fashion… do. Is that even a thing? I have no idea how to describe it, but she’s right, it looks better than hiding my hair behind the hoodie.
Proving just how amazing she is, Luce never once asks me why I’m hiding the dual colored hair I was so excited about. And I’m glad that she doesn’t, because I’m not sure I have an answer. I just kinda feel like I want to show it off for the first time on New Year’s Eve.
“Right, there we go,” she proudly announces.
While she takes the time to brush her long red hair and correct her makeup, I unzip the hoodie and take it off. I’m wearing a black tank top with a lace trim beneath. It’s not really sexy, but it’s a lot better than the oversized hoodie.
While I wash my hands, I can feel Luce’s eyes sear into my skin, and when I turn around, her green orbs study the contours of my face. “You know,” she says, thoughtfully tapping a finger against her cheek. “The way they gravitate to you suggests more happened when I left you alone with them.”
I shake my head. “It didn’t.” It’s both the truth and a lie.
Nothing happened in the physical sense of the word; we didn’t do anything more than what I’ve already told her. But I still have to agree, because something shifted between us.
There was this thrum of… not just lust, something deeper spanned between us. Like an elastic band that kept us together, forcing us to only look at each other, and always touch in one way or another. The brush of a hand, a seemingly innocent shoulder bump, it all added up to something more.
“Alright,” Luce agrees easily as she opens the door.
When we return to the table, I slide back into the spot between Mickey and Soren. Their heated gazes linger on my cleavage for a beat longer than what’s appropriate, and I can’t lie, I fucking love it.
“You asked her to let her hair down, and instead she removed the hoodie completely,” Mickey says teasingly. “Maybe if we ask her to take off her shoes, her pants will be next to go.”
I burst out laughing. “You could try,” I rasp. “But I think I’ll need a few more drinks first.”
Although I have no intention of taking my pants off, I can’t help flirting back. The way they both move closer and give me all their attention is addicting.