Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Sophia
I only spent one night at Eric’s apartment, but pulling into the Envy parking lot in his big white pickup truck, it feels like I haven’t been here in weeks.
Eric guides the truck into the space next to my silver Honda Civic and he cuts the engine.
We sit in a heavy silence for long moments, almost as if we’re saying goodbye.
As if we haven’t seen each other nearly every night for the past month. As if we’ll never see each other again.
Eric’s phone lands in my lap, the screen open to a contact creation page. “Put your number in,” he tells me. “I’m not losing track of you again.”
I pick up the phone, tapping my thumbs along the screen to fill in my information before handing it back to him.
Digging into my my purse, I pull my own phone from the pocket it’s tucked nicely into and hand it to him.
He turns the phone over to look at my case; covered in black glitter with a small beaded chain at the top to match.
“It’s easier to find glitter in the club if you drop your phone,” I explain.
“Oh right, it’s not because you just like the glitter,” he teases. He types in his information, handing his phone back to me with a smirk.
“’Dick Me Down Davis’?” I snort. “You’re insufferable.”
I move to open the passenger door and his hand wraps firmly around my throat, pulling me back to him so that he can plant a bruising kiss to my lips.
I melt into his touch, wishing just a little bit that I could dive back into his little world, into his massive bed, and vanish into him for just a while longer.
“I’ll see you real soon, Sugar,” he tells me as I climb out of the truck, dragging myself away from him and into the doors of Envy.
It’s early; there shouldn’t be many people inside, so I shouldn’t have much trouble getting my things from my locker, but I can’t shake the sense of dread that hangs over my neck like a guillotine waiting to drop.
I hurry back to the employee lounge, heading straight for my locker. The only other person inside is Crystal; one of the girls who work here who doesn’t want to work here. She’s like me. “Hey,” I whisper to her as I turn the combination lock that keeps my things safe. “Come here.”
When she approaches me, I quietly tell her about the offer that Eric and his friends made to us as I empty the locker of my things, and I try to explain the paperwork that they showed me, but I didn’t understand most of it, so a lot of what I tell her is just what I can copy from my memory of the conversation with Eric’s friend.
I pass Colt’s phone number on to her and tell her to let him know that Noelle is the one who gave her the information.
I consider stopping at the bar on my way out to tell Vin goodbye, but I know he’ll just worry about me.
And it isn’t like I’m never going to see him again, I just don’t know when I will.
But I’ll be back. Working here may have turned into a nightmare, but the people here are still my family, and I would miss them if I never saw them again.
Rushing out of the front door toward my car, I see Eric still sitting in his truck, his eyes on me the entire time that I move through the parking lot.
He stayed.
He waited.
He was here to protect me if I needed him.
I open the back seat of my car, tossing my belongings inside, and I shoot him a smile.
He holds two fingers up against his forehead, flicking them away in a lazy salute before throwing me a wink and starting the engine of his truck.
I bite my lower lip to keep from smiling as I climb into my own car, the bass of his music audible from all the way over here, despite his rolled-up windows.
I all but follow him out of the parking lot until we veer off into opposite directions.
As soon as I hit the main roads, I roll all of my windows down and crank up my own music, sticking my arm out the window, and I pretend for a while that I’m in a convertible as the wind whips through my hair.
Free.
·
The coffee shop around me buzzes with conversation as I take my iced coffee and croissant to sit down at a table near a window. I pull my phone from my purse and scroll through Instagram for a few minutes before a shadow casts itself over me.
Ava settles into the seat across from mine, setting her purse onto the table, a tall boba tea joining it seconds later. She’s dressed in a beautiful lavender pant suit. Her hair, tied into box braids, sits on top of her head wrapped into a bun.
“Tell me everything,” she demands.
Over the course of our coffees and a couple of pastries, I give her all of the juicy details of Eric’s rescue mission – except for the part where he killed a man.
I love Ava and I would trust her with my life without question, but I don’t think that is something that Eric would necessarily want advertised, especially to my best friend, the one who works with lawyers all day.
While I talk, I watch as her eyes light up, excitement overtaking her every feature.
She doesn’t flinch when I tell her about the cheating.
The only parts of the story that upset her are the fact that Ethan shoved me, that I didn’t tell her he’d done it, and that I didn’t tell her that Eric had found me.
I could have told her, but once I knew that he was real, I wanted to keep him all to myself for as long as I could.
Ava braces her elbows on the small table between us, steepling her fingers with eyes wide while she processes everything that I’ve told her.
“So a one night stand is going to finally be the thing that gets you out,” she says.
“The guy with a custom foosball table,” I laugh, tucking my head down.
I started at Envy five years ago, six years in two weeks.
When I started, I was legitimately just working bottle service, and I had a blast doing it.
It was like being invited to someone’s party every night.
Yeah, a couple of customers got handsy in a way that I didn’t appreciate, but overall, they were great; fun to be around and celebrate the simple joy of existing with.
I wasn’t told to keep a set of blues in my locker until I’d been there for eight months.
Until that point, I had been under the impression that being invited to work upstairs was some sort of honor; that it was some sign of respect and appreciation from the boss.
It wasn’t until the first time that a customer ordered time with me that I fully understood just exactly what that ‘promotion’ had actually meant; and by then, I was so certain that I’d be killed or otherwise disappeared if I didn’t shut up and do what I was told. Or if I tried to leave.
“You’ll bring me any agreements before you sign?” She asks. “Have their fancy lawyers look over it, but also let someone invested in your best interests look at it.”
“I promise.”
“After that, I want to meet this guy. I need to put a face to the di— I mean the stories,” she winks.
As much grief as she’s given me about all of this, she’s been my number one supporter, fully on team ‘Cancun cowboy,’ and hoping that I would be able to find him again someday. It’s kind of funny, in a way; I never introduced her to Ethan. It never even occurred to me.
And yet, I cannot wait for her to meet Eric.