New Year’s Day
NEW YEAR’S DAY
Vera
“Shit, my shoe.” I stumbled like a giraffe with a pair of pumps on the velvet carpet at the crowded entrance of the New Year’s Day ball. Discomfort radiated from my heels to my toes.
“Oh, sweetie, please don’t tell me you’ve ruined another pair of Jimmy Choos,” Mindy lamented, flicking back her long, dark hair.
“Welp, it wouldn’t be the first time,” I snapped, adjusting the strap on my left heel.
“You’re lucky you’re tall. I could use some of your height,” she remarked, admiring my calves.
“Honey, it’s more a curse than a blessing when most of the men I’ve dated are shorter than me,” I replied. Alistair was the exception. He stood taller than me, even when I wore high heels.
“Where’s Saph tonight?” Mindy asked when we were inside, getting a drink at the bar.
“She’s sick. We ate out a few days ago, and the meal she ate had wheat, though she had asked for it to be gluten-free.”
“Poor thing. How about Julian? Is he doing anything?”
“He’s taking Mom out for dinner.”
“He could have joined us,” Mindy suggested.
“So I could be the third wheel? No thanks. Besides, your hookups with him are prehistoric, long before he dated Saph. You need to date more often.”
“I know, I know. How about you? Are you seeing anyone lately?”
I smiled at Mindy and said nothing, prompting her to nudge my elbow.
“You can tell me. I won’t tell a soul,” she whispered.
I slowly sipped my champagne, then replied, “I’m casually seeing someone, but it’s not serious. She’s dealing with some family issues tonight.”
“No relationship is ever serious with you.”
I raised my left eyebrow as my lips curled into a smirk.
If she only knew the truth. I already cried my sad tears over a particular Mister Scott, but that was my secret to keep.
A bachelor auction was part of the evening’s agenda.
The names of the city’s most eligible bachelors appeared on a massive television screen above us, and there it was.
Alistair Scott.
“Great,” I muttered.
“What’s up?” Mindy asked.
“Oh, nothing. It’s not important.”
“Mmm, a bachelor auction and all proceeds go to the Scott Charity for Kids,” she read the text on the screen aloud and smiled. “The men are rich and hunky too.”
Grabbing my hand, Mindy guided me past the crowd and toward the stage where the auction was about to start.
I noticed gorgeous women flirting with the rich, handsome, and available bachelors.
There he was, looking dashing and dapper, as always.
Except, he wasn’t alone. A journalist interviewed him for the local news.
“That’s Alistair Scott,” Mindy exclaimed, eyes round like saucers. “He’s untouchable and out of bounds.”
“Oh? What do you mean, Mindy?” I asked.
“Well, I mean, look at him. He could have stepped out of a magazine. But it’s not just his looks. I heard that it takes months to get one minute with him.”
“Interesting,” I mused, pretending I’d never met the guy. I used this trick to fish for information from people. “What else do you know of him?”
“Alistair is a philanthropist and an investor, but I heard he’s connected with the mafia. Plus, rumor has it he pays a well-known biker gang to do his dirty work.”
“Hmm.”
“There’s no proof, though. It’s just gossip, you know?”
“Gossip is dangerous. Someone may accuse you of defamation,” I warned.
“Oh, crap. I left my handbag back at the bar,” Mindy said. “Stay right here, I’ll be back.”
“Sure,” I replied, about to head to the restroom.
“Well, well, the town’s trash has arrived,” Erin’s shrill voice sang out.
Great, just fucking great. The bitch and a bunch of her friends stood a few feet away, eyeing me from top to toe.
Having recently given birth, Erin nevertheless looked beautiful in a flowing, white blouse and a pair of loose pants that showed off her long legs. She had a light pink pram by her side.
“Is that the whore you were telling me about?” Erin’s blonde friend with a Dior handbag squawked, inspecting me as if I were vermin.
“Shh, it’s not nice to talk about other people,” Erin reprimanded, half-smiling.
“I heard you’d been stalking Erin’s brother-in-law,” a brunette with a blunt fringe blurted. “Valerie, is that your name?”
“Vera,” Erin corrected.
“Poor Scotty. All the gold diggers in town relentlessly pursue him,” the blonde butted in.
Ignoring the blonde, I turned to Erin and pointed at her pram. “Congratulations on becoming a mother.”
“Would you like to see the baby? Here she is,” Erin cooed, lifting an infant out of the pram.
The golden-haired cherub snuggled into Erin’s bosom, vulnerable and fragile, yet so pure and innocent.
Her tiny fingers stretched, then curled as her ruddy face released a small yawn.
That was Alistair’s child. The baby had his bright eyes and curly hair.
Alistair had made Erin a mother. He gave her what he didn’t want with me.
I gazed at the child, feeling a tug of love for the helpless innocent. “Your daughter is beautiful. What’s her name?”
“Her name is Camilla,” Erin boasted. “I didn’t think you were into babies. You don’t seem like the mothering type.”
“What exactly is ‘the mothering type’?” I glared at the bitch.
“Oh, I don’t know. Just not you,” she replied, her mouth twisting downward in displeasure. She readjusted her hold on the girl, who opened her eyes and balled her fists, preparing for a cry.
“I think the bright lights in this room are a bit harsh for the baby,” I said as Camilla wailed in discomfort.
“Don’t give me parenting lessons, Vera. You’re not at work, and it’s not a family courtroom. I’d advise you to stay away from Alistair tonight. He’s moved on, and so should you.”
“I’ve already moved on. Have you?”
Erin and I stared at each other before she placed the crying baby back in the pram. “Oliver and I will be going home soon. Doesn’t Camilla have her father’s eyes?” she taunted, revealing her macabre marionette smile.
“Of course, she does. She certainly doesn’t have your husband’s eyes. How does Oliver feel about this? That it’s Alistair’s baby and not his?” I dared to throw a dagger back.
“Now, Vera, it’s not nice to tell lies,” she chastised, then spoke to her friends. “I told you she’s not right in the head. She’s certified crazy.”
“Totally insane. She’s jealous of you,” the brunette bitched, patting Erin’s arm.
The blonde sneered. “It’s not her fault she’s behaving out of line. The lower classes never learn manners, do they?”
A surge of anger burned in my cheeks. Despite coming from a blue-collar suburb, I had attended an upper-class private school because of my academic scholarship. Yet, I would always be inferior to Erin and her lot.
“Did your nose just grow an inch, Erin? I guess your lies are something your cosmetic surgeon couldn’t fix,” I fired back.
“What did you say to me?” she snapped, eyes narrowing as if no one had ever dared to talk back before.
“You heard me the first time,” I replied. “By the way, I hope your child will take after her father. Alistair may be a bastard, but he’s an honest one.”
I smiled sweetly with my head high as I walked away. Erin and her friends reminded me of blowfish, with their mouths open but no words coming out.
Staring at the woman in the restroom mirror, I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. What the hell was I doing, falling for a playboy who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants? It takes a player to know a player, but why did Alistair hit me so deep when no one else ever had?
I’d hooked up with gods in college. Men who could’ve outshone Thor, Superman, take your pick. And still, nothing. No spark, no ache, no depth.
I cursed the Fates under my breath, especially Clotho, that smug bitch spinning the threads, weaving me right back into the wolf of Lester Harbor’s orbit tonight.
My phone buzzed, a message from Mindy flashing across the screen.
Change of plans. Chatting with a hot bartender who found my handbag. Come back to the bar. I’ll introduce you to his friend.
I sighed, then returned her message.
Give me a few minutes. I’ll be there soon.
On my way out of the restroom, I decided to suck it up and say hello to Alistair. I headed toward the stage, timing it before the auction began. But I froze.
The auction hadn’t even started, yet someone had already claimed the highest bid: Erin Everton-Scott.
She had Alistair’s gaze locked, his angel eyes fixed on her as if no one else in the room existed.
Adoration softened his face when he cradled the child, settling her back into the pram just as Oliver appeared.
Oliver’s expression soured, his frown sharp enough to cut, and he stormed away.
Erin, ever the dutiful wife in public, followed after him.
That left Alistair in the spotlight, surrounded by women clawing for his attention. He turned to one, his mouth curling into a smirk as his eyes dipped down to the swell of ample breasts spilling from her dress while she leaned in, laughing at something he hadn’t even said.
An insidious whisper poisoned my heart with pain.
Alistair has forgotten you. He will never, ever be yours.
I blinked rapidly as involuntary tears ran down my flushed cheeks. Wiping them away, I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin, and moved one foot forward toward the bar.
“Vee. Come here and meet Marco and Drew,” Mindy called out, waving to me.
“I’m not feeling well, so I’m heading home early,” I told her, smiling weakly.
“Aww, I’m sorry. You take care of yourself and get some rest, okay? We’ll chat next week,” she said.
“I’ll call you next week,” I promised and hugged my friend before I left.
It was eleven p.m., and I couldn’t sleep, so I put my slippers on and stepped into the living room. My phone buzzed with a call from Holly James, the doctor I’d seen on and off casually.
“Hello?”
“Hey, darling. I was in the neighborhood and happened to stop by your place. Can I see you now?” Holly’s sultry voice spoke.
“Wow, you surprised me. Were you thinking of me?”
“Maybe. Perhaps I missed you.”
“I’ll let you in. I can offer you something to drink, but I need to be up early for work tomorrow.”
“Sure, sweetie.”
When I opened the door a minute later, I felt relieved to see Holly’s lithe and limber frame and her familiar blue eyes.
“Well, will you let me in?” she asked. Her sweet face lit up when she grinned, revealing perfectly straight teeth.
Holly was gorgeous, and she smelled sweet like delicious cherries.
I motioned for her to step into my apartment. “Would you like some tea or coffee?” I asked.
“No, just some water will be fine.”
After getting a glass of water from the open-plan kitchen, I sat down on the sofa next to her, gazing into her Marilyn Monroe eyes. I leaned toward the coffee table to put her glass on the surface. When she sipped her drink, Holly inched closer and stroked my hair.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, planting passionate kisses along my jawline as her hand slipped between my legs.
“The things you do to me,” I moaned, exploring the sweetness of her lips as I felt her nimble fingers massage my moist sex. There was something special about being with a woman. It was a sensual kind of magic, so tender and delicious that no man could replicate.
Unlike Alistair’s kisses, which were rougher and more demanding, Holly’s kisses were smooth and soft. Her velvety lips were edible, tasting like cherry delight. Hungry for her, I lifted her blouse and licked the small, pink tips of her breasts.
“You’re turning me on,” she murmured, her nipples stiffening.
“Do you want to stay the night?” I asked.
Her eyes glazed in a dreamlike trance. I leaned into that look, too caught up to notice anything else until a sting bit into my arm. Quick, sharp. Like a vicious mosquito bite.
“Ouch,” I gasped, flinching at the sudden sting. My eyes darted down. Holly slid a syringe from my arm.
“The pain will go away,” she murmured, almost soothing.
Ice shot through my veins. “What did you do to me?” My tongue felt thick, words slurring even as panic clawed at my chest.
“Nothing permanent. Just a little sleep.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You’ll wake up later. Don’t worry—I’m not going to kill you.”
The room tilted. My muscles sagged, heavy and unresponsive. I blinked hard, fighting the blur, but shapes dissolved around me. Through the haze, I caught Holly opening my door, waving in a broad-shouldered man who moved with grim purpose.
“Take her,” she ordered.
Strong arms scooped me up like cargo. My head lolled against his chest, my lungs begging for air that wouldn’t come fast enough. I tried to scream, but no sound broke free—my voice drowned in the drug’s tide.
Darkness dragged me under, cold and merciless.
Letting Holly into my apartment hadn’t just been a mistake. It was the end of control, the start of whatever nightmare waited beyond that door.