The Indie – Summer
THE INDIE
SUMMER
Three Hours Later
Five customers had wandered in and out of my store this morning. Three asked to use the bathroom, one asked for directions to the subway, and one person bought a card and an ‘I like fucking the men in my books’ keychain.
Oh, wait.
There were six.
A homeless guy came in and treated himself to our complimentary water before squinting at me and saying, “Hmph. You would look a lot better with highlights in your hair, lady… And makeup. Put on some makeup.”
He placed a dollar in my tip jar right after that, so I couldn’t afford to throw him out.
The only signs of life were the long line outside my windows, the pages turning in my book, and Adrian’s emails lighting up my phone.
Subject: Pick up your damn phone…
Subject: Don’t make me come over, Summer.
Subject: You have until noon.
I decided to give it two more hours before closing early for the day.
I barely made it through one before I shut all the blinds and hit the lights.
I needed a plot twist for today. Stat.
Grabbing my purse, I strolled out of the store and down several blocks in search of something new to do.
The Blow Bar’s pink and white lights winked at me, so I stumbled inside for an impromptu session.
Somehow, through the shampooing and styling, I didn’t think about my troubles at all.
Just Adrian…on top of me, putting his mean-ass mouth to much better use…
When the stylist spun me around to face the final cut, I hardly recognized myself.
Gone were my long dark curls that fell down my back. In their place were honey-auburn waves that brushed against my shoulders.
My eyebrows were perfectly shaped and less fuzzy than usual. And my lips were coated in a bright pink that screamed “Taste me.”
The homeless guy was right…
I made a mental note to treat him to lunch the next time I saw him while I paid at the counter.
Not ready to go home or return to Slow Burn, I continued walking in search of something else to distract me.
Anything else…
Several minutes later, a huge stone frog statue stood near the edge of the sidewalk. His beady eyes locked on mine, and I read the sign above his head.
Queen Tiffany’s Tarot & Psychic Palm Readings
“Perfect,” I said, high-fiving the frog before walking inside the shop.
“Oof!” The redhead at the counter frowned. “I can see the state of your life in your eyes already.”
“You’re just making that up…”
“I’m not even the psychic, and I can tell.” She smiled. “You’re pretty, though. Sad, but very pretty.”
“Is it company policy to insult potential customers?”
“You’re broke.” She tilted her head to the side. “I’ll charge you forty bucks for today, but don’t come back until you can afford the full hour for one hundred.”
“Actually—” I paused. “Do I pay now or at the end?”
“At the end,” she said. “You’ll have to share a table, too, if that’s alright.”
“Of course.” I nodded.
“Follow me this way, please.” She gestured for me to follow her down a hallway with walls covered in gemstones.
Then she suddenly stopped in front of a golden curtain.
“Here you go,” she said, tying a blindfold over my eyes. “Queen Tiffany is already mid-read on another guest, but you’ll follow right after.”
She squeezed my hand and guided me forward. Then she helped me settle into a chair.
“You have a very successful future ahead of you…” A woman spoke, her voice deep yet soft. “It’s beyond your wildest dreams…”
Really? I smiled, but then I realized she was talking to someone else.
“But that success might come at a huge loss of something that could change your life for the better.” She paused. “Hold on, sir. Let me allow you to sit with that.”
“Miss, you are…” She pressed her hand against my palm, trailing her fingers against the lines. “You are carrying a lot of stress and anxiety, and oh… You’re hanging on to something, and it’s preventing you from grabbing onto something better.”
Isn’t that exactly what you just told the other customer?
“Sometimes, the initial dream is only meant to come halfway true,” she continued. “It eventually grows into something bigger and better, and you’ve been stalling and keeping yourself inside a scarcity box.”
Okay, maybe not. “What do you mean by—”
“Shhhh!” She gently tapped my hand. “No talking allowed during my readings.”
“You are in desperate need of a release, an intimate release.” She tapped my fingertips. “You haven’t had sex in months. No…years.”
My cheeks reddened.
“We have a separate gigolo service that’s off the books if you need that service.” She squeezed my wrist. “We also sell state-of-the-art vibrators, as you clearly don’t please yourself either…”
What the fuck?
“Okay, Miss,” she said. “Sit with that for a few moments, please.”
I bit my tongue to prevent myself from telling her that she was wrong about my sex life, even if she'd generously overestimated how long it had been.
“Back to you, sir.” Her voice rose a bit. “You also are in deep need of a release, and it seems you are chasing someone, but you’re scared of rejection.”
“I am not scared of rejection.” A familiar deep voice echoed off the walls, and I sucked in a breath.
Adrian?
“No talking is allowed during my readings, sir,” she chided. “You are only supposed to listen.”
“I’m just helping you stay accurate,” he said, sounding amused and confirming that the man sitting next to me was him.
Definitely him.
Shit.
I withdrew my hand from the table and swallowed.
“Anyway, sir,” she continued talking to him. “You are in need of intimacy, but it’s the emotional type due to a lack of receiving it in your childhood.”
I scooted my chair back, hoping to escape here silently.
As I scooted even further, the chair scraped the floor and the screeechhhh filled the room.
“Something wrong, Miss?” she asked. “Do you need to be escorted to the restroom?”
“No,” I whispered to conceal my voice. “I just need to go.”
“But you don’t have anywhere important to be.”
“You don’t know that.” I stood up, still whispering. “I have a job.”
“You work for yourself and you’re struggling…” This woman was either a real psychic or I’d unknowingly scribbled my life across my face.
“You really would benefit from learning the next step you need to take in life.”
“I know,” I said. “That step is out of this room.”
“Sit back down, Miss. Now.”
No…
Don’t say anything else to her, Summer. Just take off the blindfold and get out of here.
“Thank you for everything.” I uttered my final whisper and took off my blindfold, placing it on the table.
I glanced at Adrian, and somehow, he was managing to make a blindfold look like it was part of his custom suit.
His lips were pressed into a line, and he was leaning back in his seat.
“You know this man, don’t you?” she asked me, and I shook my head.
“It makes sense why the energy in here suddenly shifted when you came in.” She motioned for me to reclaim my seat. “I can do a lot of work with this.”
“I’ve never seen this man a day in my life.”
“Summer?” He sat up.
“Nope!” I rushed down the hall and to the counter.
I fished out two twenties and bolted out the front door. I raced straight into the alleyway, but I felt Adrian grab my elbow from behind.
“Let me go before I scream for the police,” I warned.
“I dare you.” He spun me around to face him. “I don’t think you…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, and my heart betrayed me with an instant shift in its tempo.
He stared at me, his lips slowly parting as the seconds passed, and I couldn’t get my feet to move if I tried.
“Your hair looks good like this,” he said finally. “What made you change it?”
“This guy I started dating this week,” I said. “He suggested it…along with the makeup.”
“The makeup is cute,” he said, still staring intently. “You don’t need it, though…”
“I’ll pass that along to him then.” My breathing slowed as he reached out and touched one of my curls. “He wouldn’t appreciate you touching me right now. That’s his job.”
“I heard the psychic in there,” he said, smirking. “You and I both know there is no him, but I am shocked to know that you don’t even touch yourself…”
His words rendered me even more still, and I watched him touch another lock of my curls.
I slowly took in this man’s eyes, this man’s lips, this man’s—Hold on. What the hell am I doing?
“Okay, look.” I snapped out of the trance he’d pulled me under.
“I would say that it’s nice seeing you again, but—”
“Do you really want me to die, Summer?” he interrupted. “That can’t be how you really feel about me.”
“Yes, it is.” I glared at him, grateful to be back in the real world. “I hate everything about you, and it’s obvious you feel the same.”
“I only hate the way you’re looking at me right now.”
“You stole my employees.” I jabbed my finger against his chest. Hard. “Straight up stole them, just because you could.”
“They applied to the open job listings and got hired on their own.”
“But I’m sure you personally emailed them invitations to apply, right?”
“I invited a lot of people to apply…”
“Then just say yes, Adrian,” I said. “You did it on purpose, so just say yes.”
He didn’t answer that.
“Are you a sadist, Adrian?”
He caught my wrist before I could stab another finger into his chest.
“Like, do you enjoy inflicting immense pain on me?”
“You’re wound up far more tightly than usual today,” he said. “Why is that?”
“Answer my questions.” I nearly screamed at him, and he grabbed my other hand. “Now.”
“I wasn’t able to pay attention to those.” His gaze fell to my lips. “What were they?”
“One, can you just admit that you’re a sadist who wants to hurt me? Two—” I paused, deciding to hurt him like he’d hurt me this morning. “Can you just do me a favor and die today?”
“Okay, Summer.” He suddenly pressed me back against the bricks. “How would you like me to handle the second thing?”
“You can turn the corner and step right into traffic,” I said. “I’ll say a few nice words at your funeral, and you can die knowing that you made me feel good at least once in your life.”
“I’d rather make you feel good right now…” His mouth was suddenly on mine, and my guard dropped to the sidewalk.
He gently released my wrists and kissed me.
I should've shoved him away, but I kissed him back.
Staring into his eyes, I wrapped my hands around his neck, and he gripped my waist.
His tongue teased mine, demanding more, and I pressed myself against him.
When his hand slid down my waist, I guided it lower.
He pushed my panties to the side and pressed his thumb against my clit.
“Ahhhh…” I moaned against his mouth as he pressed harder, reminding me just how perfect his lips felt on mine.
“Summer…” he said my name as he pressed his palm against my pussy.
Then he slid two fingers inside me, slowly, inch by inch, until they were buried deep.
He pulled them out and thrust them in again.
“Does this feel good?” he whispered against my neck.
“Yes...” I panted. “Yes…”
“Do you want to feel something even better?” He bit my skin.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Come home with me,” he said against my skin. “Now…”
I felt his cock hardening against my thigh, and I wanted to feel it inside me, all the way, and—
I gasped. “What the hell are we doing?”
I pushed his hands off me, and he stumbled back, looking confused.
I swallowed, shaking my head.
Unsure of what to say and refusing to believe that I’d been seconds away from letting him fuck me, I adjusted my blouse and smoothed my skirt back into place.
Then I walked away.
“Summer, wait,” he called after me.
I didn’t answer.
I just continued walking away.