Chapter 2
At 8:00, I take a shower and work on my hair, nails, and makeup before Angie comes. I can dress just before we leave. It’s warm out for the first week of June, and I’m looking forward to the summer. I hate winter and have mentioned that I’d love to move to Florida.
Nathaniel has horrible memories of his home, so he always talks me out of moving south. I entertain the idea but would never go because my entire family is here except for a couple of decrepit aunts who live in Miami.
Angie is right on time and rings the bell at the main door. We only have buzzers to let visitors inside. One of these days, I’d like to live in an apartment like Megan and Lexi, who have doormen. But unless I hit the lottery or marry rich, I’m stuck with doing it yourself doors.
I buzz Angie in and open the door to wait for her to come up in the elevator. When she comes out, she’s dressed in a short light blue dress that shows off her olive skin. Her long sleek black hair is combed straight, and her face has minimal makeup. She doesn’t need much with her looks.
“Hey, Emma! I’m excited for tonight. ”
“We should have a great time,” I take her bag from her hand and lead her to my bedroom.
“What are you wearing?”
I pick the dress off the bed, and Angie whistles, “That’s beautiful. I hope you don’t mind attention tonight because you’re going to get plenty.”
“As long as it’s the good kind.”
Angie is different from me. She’s dated a lot and has had several boyfriends, her last being a few months ago. We’ve talked about my lack of sexual activity, and she can’t understand why I just don’t go for it. But it’s hard to explain. I don’t want to be hurt again.
I get undressed and slip on my dress. It fits me perfectly, falling over my soft curves.
“Damn girl, your tits look great in that. I wish mine were so perfect.”
“Ya think?”
“Look in the mirror. I think you’re going to have to fight guys off tonight.”
“I just want to have a few drinks and dance.”
“If you could get a few numbers, that wouldn’t be bad either.”
“We’ll see.”
An hour later, we’re stepping out of an Uber in front of Haze. The line stretches around the corner, and several security guards are walking around with a list selecting people. We walk up to the guy at the door who resembles a gorilla in build and Stallone in the face. He asks our names and scrolls through the list with a pen.
“Okay, go in. Tell the hostess in the front that you’re in the VIP section.”
I smile at him, and he opens the door for us. The music hits us the minute we walk in, a pounding bass, and I crane my neck to find Nathaniel, but there are too many people in the way. A woman with teased up black hair, bright red nails, and a dress that looks like black rubber takes us over to a roped-off area where tables marked with reserve cards. She seats us and tells us that a waitress will be by to take our order.
“What are you having?” I scream to Angie.
“Jack and Coke. I guess you’ll get your usual of Cranberry and Vodka?”
“Yep.”
We wait for the server to come by and place our orders. Several of the tables are empty in the VIP section, but they all have reserve cards on them. After we get out drinks, we sip at them, waiting for our chance to hit the dance floor. Nathaniel is really hitting all the right music tonight, and the crowd grows.
“We should go out on the floor,” I yell.
“What about our drinks?”
She’s right. Leaving unattended drinks is not the smartest idea.
“Fuck it. We can order new ones when we get back. I want to dance.”
We work our way out to the floor. A security guy in a black t-shirt and jacket opens a velvet rope to let us out. We find our own piece of real estate and begin to sway and shimmy to the music. I can see several men looking at us, but I pay no attention. Soon a few join us. I’m not paying attention until I feel hands on my back, and I wheel around almost knocking Angie down. I’m about to slap the offender, but I see its Hunter with his fiancée, Rory, in tow.
“You scared the fuck out of me!” I scream.
“Sorry. I thought you saw me. That is some dress you’re wearing.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
I hug Rory and gesture to the VIP section. We have an entire table to ourselves, and I’m sure two more is no big deal, but the security guard gives us a hard time. I explain we’re guests of Nathaniel, but he won’t budge.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to sit with you.”
“Bullshit. I’m going to see if I can get Nathaniel’s attention.”
It’s perfect because Nate is on his way down from the stage for a break, and he heads towards us. He’s all sweaty, and his shirt is now fully open to reveal his cut abs.
“Baby girl, you made it,” he says as he gives me a sweaty kiss on my cheek.
“Yes, but this guy won’t let Hunter and Rory in the VIP section.”
Nathaniel leans in to talk to the guard, and he immediately opens the rope up for us to pass. At the table, we place another drink order.
“How’s it going up there?”
“Great. I already got another two full weeks here. They are paying me ridiculous money. Then it’s out to the Hamptons for another few weeks.”
“You’re leaving me?”
“Only for a few days at a time. I can go back and forth to Manhattan.”
“Don’t worry, you have Rory and me if you need anything,” Hunter said.
“I know, but I miss Nate.”
“Don’t worry, baby girl. Maybe I can get you some free digs for a few days. You can stay with me and have some fun.”
“That would be awesome.”
Nathaniel stays with us for a few more minutes than leaves to do another round. I hate it when he leaves me alone in our apartment for any length of time. I get lonely. Everyone is talking or rather screaming to each other around me, but I feel depressed.
“Would you like to dance?”
I look up, and a man with blonde hair and dreamy blue eyes stands in front of our table. I start to shake my head no, but Angie pushes me out of the booth and practically into the man’s arms. He leads me to the dance floor with his hand on my bare back, which sends shivers down my spine.
“My name is Jordan. What’s yours?”
“Emma.”
“That’s a pretty name, almost as pretty as the possessor.”
“Thank you.”
We start to dance, and the throng of the crowd pushes us close together. Jordan is tall because, with my heels, I’m close to 5’9,” but he’s at least five inches taller than that. The entire time we’re together, he keeps his eyes focused on me, which makes me shy, and I look down. After several songs, we’re sweating and in need of a drink. I invite him to our table.
No one is there when we arrive, and I see Angie out on the dance floor with a short guy. Hunter and Rory are nowhere in sight. The music has eased so we can talk at a lower volume.
“So, Emma, what do you do for a living?”
“I work as an assistant editor. And you?”
“I’m an entrepreneur. I invest in companies.”
“How old are you?”
“That’s forward of you, Miss…”
“Stanford.”
“I won’t lie and say I didn’t have help from my father to start my investments, but now I’m all on my own. Oh, and I’m twenty-eight.”
“So what brings you to the VIP section? You usually have to know someone or pay a hefty sum for one of these tables.”
“I know the DJ, Nathaniel Heaton.”
“He’s good. Very good. I’m part owner of a couple of clubs myself.”
We chat for a while, and Angie comes back to the table with the guy she was dancing with named Charles. He seems nice, and when he excuses himself to go to the restroom, I lean in.
“Do you like him? ”
“He’s an old boyfriend.”
“Oh.”
I introduce her to Jordan, and she smiles widely at him. Hunter and Rory come back to the table, and they begin a conversation with Jordan. So Angie and I take the opportunity for some touching up of our faces. The line is long in the bathroom, so we have time to talk away from the music.
“What do you think of Jordan?”
“I like him. He seems sweet, but I don’t know.”
Angie throws her hands up in the air, “You need to stop being so picky or shy, or whatever this thing is with you.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I don’t want to be hurt.”
She leans in, “Just give someone a chance and get a refresher between the sheets. I’m not saying be a slut. I’m saying enjoy yourself.”
“You sound just like Nathaniel. He said the same thing this afternoon.”
“He’s right.”
By 2:00 AM, I’m exhausted from all the dancing, and since I got up at 5:30 AM the morning before, I’ve been up almost twenty-four hours. Angie decides to go home with Charles, leaving me with Jordan, whose friends have already left for another club. Hunter and Rory had left an hour before.
“Can I escort you home?”
“I should be alright by myself.”
Angie shoots me a look behind Jordan’s back.
“Uh, sure. You can take me home. It’s fine. Just let me tell my roommate that I’m leaving.”
“Isn’t Angie your roommate?”
“No, Nathaniel is.”
“You have a male roommate? ”
“Yes, long story.”
Before he can answer, I head to the DJ deck and let Nathaniel know that I’m leaving. I point to Jordan, and he frowns at me, holding up his finger, so I’ll wait a minute. He comes down to talk to me.
“Are you sure you’re alright? I won’t be home until about five.”
“I’ll be fine. He’s not going to eat me.” Nathaniel gives me a wide grin. “You’re a fucking pervert, Nate.”
“Yeah, but I know what you need even if you don’t.”
“Goodbye, Nate. I’ll see you at home.”
I turn and walk towards Jordan, who holds out his hand. Outside, I expect him to hail a cab or call an Uber, but he taps something into his phone, and a black limo pulls up alongside the curb thirty seconds later.
“Is that for us?”
“Yes. It’s one of my companies.”
I’m speechless as the driver comes around and opens the door for us. Jordan asks me my address as I slip inside the vehicle. On the ride, he strokes my arm, and as if realizing I’m uncomfortable, he puts his hands in his lap.
“We have some time, so why don’t you tell me about how you have a male roommate.”
“Sure. I had a female roommate, but she moved out to live with her boyfriend. I was friends with Nathaniel; in fact, he’s one of my best friends, and when he heard I needed a roommate, he volunteered.”
“How did your parents feel about that?”
“Um, they think Nate is gay, so they have no problem.”
“Is he?”
“Not one drop. He often invites women to our apartment for trysts.”
“What is often?”
“Almost nightly.”
“Hmm, so you spend your nights listening to sex romps? ”
“Actually, no. With Nate’s schedule, by the time I get up, he’s just getting home. I’m usually getting dressed and leaving for work by the time the action happens. Also, his bedroom is on the opposite side of the apartment, and I don’t hear much.”
“How do your previous boyfriends feel about sharing your apartment with another man?”
“I haven’t had many boyfriends, so I can’t say.”
“That is surprising.”
“What’s surprising?”
“That you haven’t had many boyfriends.”
“Why? Because I’m pretty? I just haven’t found one that I’m interested in recently.”
“What about you?”
“Do I have a male roommate? No.”
“I didn’t mean that. Have you had many girlfriends?”
“A few but not recently. I’ve been busy cultivating my business.”
“I guess it’s been going well judging from this limo.”
“Yes, it has. I appreciate the help my father gave me, but I wanted something for my own.”
My mind is twisting and turning if I should ask him up to my apartment. I like him but wouldn’t an invitation give him the wrong impression? Would he think I’m easy to get in bed? I’m unfocused and not paying attention when we pull up in front of my building.
“Emma?”
“I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“We’re here. Would you like me to escort you upstairs?”
I’m going to do it , “Yes, that would be nice.”
The driver once again opens the door for us, and Jordan tells him to circle the block or find a parking spot until he calls. I lead him into the building and punch the button on the elevator.
“No doorman?”
“Too expensive to live in those buildings on my salary. ”
“I didn’t mean to imply…”
I hold my hand up for him to stop as I step into the elevator with him following. I think he’s embarrassed because he leans against the wall brushing off imaginary lint from his jacket as the car ascends to the seventh floor.
I walk out, and he follows to my apartment. Now what? What do I do once we’re inside? Do I offer him something to drink? I open the door, and he pushes it open for me to go in, following behind. I feel so much pressure, but it’s not from him, it’s from me. Once inside and the door is closed, I remove my shoes and exhale a sigh of relief.
“I don’t know how women wear those things.”
“Not easily, but now you can see how much height it adds.”
“I see that, but you shouldn’t go through all that just to impress a man.”
He looks around our small but comfortable apartment. I’m sure his is much bigger.
“Nice place you have here. Is that a Van Gogh?” he says as he gestures to a painting on our living room wall.
“Yes. Van Gogh would shudder to think what his paintings go for now. Of course, that’s a reproduction, but I love the frame.”
I’m feeling a little more comfortable and ask him to sit on the overstuffed couch that we got from Megan when she moved into her fiancé Chase’s apartment.
“Can I trouble you for a glass of water?”
“Sure. Would you like some ice?”
“Please.”
I prepare two glasses of ice water, and when I come back, Jordan has taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. I can see the sleeves of his shirt straining against the muscles of his arms. His coat hid them well. I sit next to him and hand him his water.
“Thanks. I was parched.”
He stares at me, and I can’t look away from his eyes, they are hypnotic .
“Emma, I’d like to kiss you. Would that be okay?”
“I, uh, I, sure.”
Sure? Seriously?
Jordan takes the glass out of my hand and places it on the table, then leans in and softly places his lips against mine. They’re warm and moist. The tip of his tongue flicks into my mouth, and I open to give him entrance. He wraps his hand around my head and cradles it causing ignition below my waist.
His other hand strokes the ivory flesh in between the cowl of my dress, from hollow of my throat to my upper stomach. It sends small electric shocks through me as his fingertips brush against my skin. I’m breathless, trying to gulp air in between his kisses. Jordan senses my distress and gently eases his lips away from mine. I don’t know what to say, and he does it for me.
“Wow, that was some kiss.”
“I’d like to do it again.”
“I’m not going to argue,” Jordan chuckles.
He places his hands on either side of my face and kisses me first with gentle pressure then becomes more insistent. His tongue is buried in my mouth, and I suck at it. I don’t have a ton of experience with sex, but I sure know how to kiss. His hands slide from my face to my shoulders and roam my body.
He cups my breasts, running his palms across the thin fabric. My nipples are straining against the cloth, making them quite visible. Jordan feathers kisses along my cheek and down my neck while still keeping his hands on my breasts. I can feel myself growing wet as he manipulates his fingers across them.
I moan and tangle my hands in his soft thick hair. I want him, but I’m also scared. It’s been too long just to have casual sex. I need to know him better before I allow him to fuck me.
“Jordan, stop,” I whisper.
He continues until I say it louder, then he pulls his head up and looks at me, confused.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led you on. ”
“Emma, it’s your choice. I’m not going to push you.”
Jordan straightens his tie, and when he stands to tuck in his shirt, he has a noticeable erection. I feel horrible, and I’m sure that I won’t see him again. But he surprises me by holding out his hand. I take it, and he pulls me up and against him.
“I’d like to take you out. Can I at least get your number?”
“Uh, yes.”
I call out my number so he can program it into his cell. He slips on his suit jacket and is on the way to the door when I remember that I don’t know his full name.
“Jordan, what is your last name.”
He hesitates for a moment, “Grayson.”
“Thank you.”
I meet him at the door, and he bends his head to capture my lips. After another smoldering kiss, he opens it and exits. By the time he leaves, my knees are weak, and I lean against the wall for support. Jordan just kissed me, well that and touched my breasts, and I’m highly aroused. I hope this works out because its time I get back into the game.
I’m too excited to sleep, and it’s three in the morning. I want to talk to someone, and if I do, I’ll just have to wait until Nathaniel comes home. That’s if he doesn’t have a club groupie on his arm.
I go into my bedroom to change, and my panties are soaked. I remove them and slip on a short satin nightgown, pushing my underwear to the floor. Nate doesn’t care if I walk around the apartment naked if I had to. He would love it. We’ve spent so much time together that it’s commonplace to be half undressed in front of each other.
There is nothing on television as I flip through channels, stopping on an infomercial for skincare products. I must have dozed off because Nathaniel wakes me up.
“Baby girl, what are you doing out here? Is that guy snoring too loud for you?”
I yawn, “What guy? ”
“Jordan. Didn’t he sleepover?”
“No.”
Nathaniel purses his lips, “You didn’t go through with it?”
“He was nice enough, but I have to admit, I’m afraid I’ll be horrible in bed. It’s been so long, and I don’t know if I was any good, to begin with.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“About what?”
“Sex. How could you think you’re bad in bed?”
“It’s been three years and two guys. Maybe that’s why Leo dumped me.”
“He dumped you because he was an asshole. He just wanted to sleep with you, put another notch in his belt, and move on.”
“Why did he have to do it with me? There are plenty of girls out there he could have slept with.”
“So that’s been your problem all these years? You’re worried you’re bad in bed?”
“Maybe it’s true. I only slept with Ricky a few months before he dumped me.”
“He’s another asshole. I’ll tell you what, have sex with me, and I’ll tell you if you suck in bed.”
I smack his arm, but sometimes when he says those things, I’m not entirely sure if he means them or not. He’s my best friend.
“Stop joking around.”
“I’m not joking. One day we should just take the plunge and have mind-numbing sex until we can’t walk.”
“Nate, stop. Would you be serious? I need to talk to you.”
“So talk, I’m here to listen,” he says as he starts to pick at his nails.
“Jordan wants to take me on another date. How long do I make him wait?”
“I can’t answer that for you. You need to make the decision when it’s right. If you want to sleep with him in a month than that’s what you do. There’s no set time limit. It’s how you feel. Maybe your second date will show he’s a jerk, and you can move on.”
“I hope not. I like him. By the way, no groupies tonight?”
“I already had my fill. I fucked some brunette with big tits at the club in the office bathroom. She wanted to come back here, but I told her my roommate didn’t allow me to have guests.”
“You didn’t?” I gasp.
“I did. I’m not in the mood to share my bed tonight. I need some sleep.”
“Well, thanks for being considerate,” I lean in and kiss his chest. He smells of sex, sweat, and cologne. All the smells I associate with Nate.
“Anytime baby girl. I need some rest. I have another gig at Haze tonight. Gotta be there by six for a sound check. Any chance you can do my hair?”
“Yes. I have nothing going on unless Angie breezes in.”
“Where did she go?”
“She met an old boyfriend and went home with him. Why can’t I be so lucky?”
“Because your only two exes are idiots.”
He kisses the crown of my head as he gets off the couch to head to his bedroom. I wonder when it’s going to be my turn to find someone great.
“Fuck! Nate, stop it.”
I open my eyes from where I’m sleeping on the couch as droplets of water ping against my forehead.
“Why the hell didn’t you go into your room?”
“I fell asleep.”
He drips a couple of more drops of water on my head, and I pop up into a sitting position and grab at him, but he backs away, laughing. Nathaniel takes a swig from the bottle he has in his hand and goes to the kitchen. I yawn loudly and glance at the cable box. It’s just past noon.
I have the entire day ahead of me with nothing to do. I made no plans. My parents are having a barbecue at my childhood home in Glen Rock, New Jersey. I don’t want to go because the questions make my head spin. I’m not perfect, like Lexi and Megan. I spent the years before I started working for Scarborough being a flake. I didn’t know what I wanted to do.
Now that I have a career that I love, my parents are starting with the when will I get married speech and have I met anyone. They also have a terrible habit of mentioning Ricky and how well he’s doing.
I was so embarrassed by him dumping me after prom that I told them I broke up with him. They don’t know how badly he hurt me and that it’s carried over into my adult life. I barely mentioned Leo, so they don’t know what a disaster that turned into.
Because of the lack of men in my life, my mother asked me if I was gay. She then proceeded to tell me that she and my father would love me no matter who I chose to be with. By then, I was so mortified that I hid in the bathroom for a half-hour until Lexi came to get me.
I don’t want to subject myself to questioning, so I prefer to spend the afternoon locked in my apartment, watching reruns and eating ice cream.
“Hey, baby girl. What do you have on tap for tonight?”
“Not a thing. I’m going to sit home and watch a movie. I think The Notebook is on.”
“No, no, no. I refuse to hear any more about that movie. You can’t sit here and live vicariously through the movie screen. Get out. Go to a bar or something.”
“By myself?”
“What’s the big deal? You sit, have a few drinks, and wait for them to come to you. With your looks, you won’t be paying for your drinks for long.”
“I could never do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I just can’t. I can’t go out alone.”
“You’re hopeless. And put on some panties, you’re driving me crazy.”
I stick my tongue out at him and flip up the back of my nightgown as I walk down the hall—Nathaniel whistles at my bare ass.