Page 5 of Monsters

Chapter 2

“Another two, please,” Carleen cooed seductively to the young muscled-up barman. Leaning forward on the marble counter, she allowed her newly acquired double D’s to bulge from her blouse. Carleen was Pierson Gallery’s receptionist who had a love for the nightlife, stiletto heels and men half her age. She also had a gut made of cast iron, handling enough alcohol that would see four grown men out cold before the clock struck twelve.

“No more,” I begged, but it was too late. The tequila shots were already being poured, the rim coated with salt and a slither of lemon on a small plate was placed in front of us. “You’re going to hell for this, Carleen.”

“Honey, I’ll meet you there,” she practically squealed, her excitement blending in with the rest of the joviality in The Cocoon Lounge. David had chosen an upmarket lounge bar in Soho to celebrate my twenty-sixth birthday. It was a popular venue for those who worked the business district, keen to unwind on a Friday night.

“Lick, sip, suck, baby,” a smooth voice with soft lips grazed my ear. I shivered in delight as a hand snaked around my waist pulling me against a hard body.

“Hey, Peter,” Carleen cooed once again, playfully, curling a lock of hair around her finger. Everyone knew Carleen as a playful flirt and now was no different. She had no shame and wore her heart on her sleeve. This sometimes made a dangerous combination.

“Hey, Carleen,” my boyfriend replied. “Your hair looks great. New color?”

Carleen placed a manicured hand over her breast and looked through her long fake lashes. “You noticed? You’re too sweet,” she gushed before turning to me. “If you ever get bored, honey, send him my way.”

While Peter and I hadn’t been together long, our relationship, if you could call it that, was one built on a long-distance connection. He frequently traveled for work, and when he was present in the same room, he wasn’t ‘present.’ The phone calls were endless, and his duty to work was paramount over everything. But what we did have was a mutual respect for each other, and the time we did manage to spend together was always filled with laughter and sex.

Carleen’s fickle attention diverted back to her boy-toy behind the bar. “Another shot, my love,” she practically purred. With a playful smile and eyes only for his prowling cougar, he poured another shot in front of Peter.

“All right, come on, baby…” Carleen raised her glass, and we followed suit. “Happy fucking birthday, sweetheart, and if you need a good surgeon in a few years, I know just the place. A place where they give you cocktails while in recovery and a pool lapping at your toes.”

“Thanks,” I laughed. “But I think I’m good for the next few years.”

“Just saying,” she continued. “I went there to get my…” her eyebrows raised while her eyes gestured downward, “… my hoo-ha re-sculptured after pushing out Bryson. That kid had a head the size of a fucking bowling bowl on steroids, and he ripped me to shreds, front and back. Bits were falling out where shit’s not meant to fall out and ‘it’ went from looking like a peach crack to a melting alien face with droopy fucking eyes. You know what I mean? But now, I have the va-jay-jay of a virgin, and I plan on breaking myself in all over again.” She cast a glance at the barman who thankfully hadn’t heard her horrifying overshare. Carleen turned back to me wearing a wicked smile. “And I know just the man to pop my cherry.”

Beside me, Peter looked torn between a brave curiosity and soul disturbed. On auto-pilot survival mode, he raised his glass and shot the tequila. His face barely contorted, his eyes scanning the room briefly.

“I’m gonna find some… men to talk to. About… manly stuff.”

“Okay,” I encouraged, giggling at his discomfort.

Carleen raised her shot glass. “Salud.”

“Salud,” I said, returning the gesture.

Carleen locked eyes with the barman while elongating her tongue around the rim. Her target slowed the polish on his wine glass, smiling wide at her seduction attempt. Together, we shot the burning tequila and quickly followed with lemon.

My face contorted and a warm body pressed against my back where Peter had been standing only moments ago. Except this time, it wasn’t Peter.

“Happy birthday, you beautiful girl.” Lips met my cheek.

Carleen’s eyes widened in surprise, her brows remaining perfectly in place courtesy of Botox. She observed the interaction with amusement and curiosity. I wanted to tell her she was misreading the situation between boss and employee, but I couldn’t. Not with David being so touchy-feely. Instead, I sashayed a side-step so we could interact on a more platonic level. I cast a nervous glance at Peter, but he remained engrossed in presumably a manlier conversation with his back to me.

“Thank you, David.” I smiled enough to be polite but not to encourage. “Is Vanessa coming?”

His gaze searched around the room before landing back on me, his indifferent tone catching me off guard. “Vanessa has moved to Florida and is staying with her sister for a while.”

This admission had me lost for words. It all made sense now why he appeared overly eager. It didn’t make it right, but now I understood.

“I’m so sorry, David.”

“I’m not. It was a long time coming.” He smiled playfully, appreciative eyes traveling the length of my body. “I have to say that dress highlights all your best features.”

“And hides all the bad,” I finished off his sentence with an awkward laugh. Despite his unwanted remark, I smiled more to myself knowing the epic struggle I had fitting the tight number over my ass.

David’s eyes narrowed holding my gaze with his intensity. “There are no bad. Certainly, none that I can see.” His voice was a low growl and my cheeks heated at the suggestiveness in his tone.

“What. Is. Happening?” Carleen asked quietly, her mouth like a ventriloquist. I was almost certain she hadn’t blinked since David appeared.

---