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Authors: Kathleen Mareé

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BOOK: Cut
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"Have you been waiting long?" he continues. His voice is deep, smooth and slides through the air with such precision. I stare at his face completely numb, making effort not to look directly into those sky blue blades.

"Umm... what?"

As the air changes around me, it shakes me from my standstill state. I notice mystery danger guy glancing over my shoulder in mystery suit guy’s direction, shooting him an un-nerving look. A look that is so hard-hearted and callous that I can’t help but turn to view the other man for his response. He gulps in receipt of the icy glare before raising his hand up in front of his chest signalling some kind of defeat.

"Sorry miss, I didn't realise you were here with someone. My apologies."

He turns away from me immediately and scatters off until he is lost amongst other bodies. I stare at his empty spot for a moment, trying to collect some kind of a rational thought or explanation.

Am I going insane?

Do I even know this mystery danger guy?

I take a short sharp breath, trying to gain some kind of composure before preparing to face him. My eyes glazed over in a puzzled daze, he sighs before seemingly responding to my confused expression.

"I could hear him badgering you about a drink and you were politely trying to tell him to fuck off."

The cold sound of his voice makes me squirm uneasily.

"I couldn't help but to intervene."

The air is so dense now that just breathing in oxygen is a trying task. I continue staring at his face, not speaking, as my brain has lost its connection temporarily to my mouth. His face is rather poetic.

Three other guys dressed in a similar way come to stand behind him unlocking my stare. Their sudden presence makes me blush for some reason and I fold my arms across my body defensively as a result. The mystery guy doesn’t seem to pay too much attention to their arrival.

"Th- th- that's okay..." I stutter. "Th-thank you."

Where’s Rosie?

“And you are?” I blurt out despite feeling completely uncomfortable.

I don’t even want to continue this conversation.

He looks over me again and his expression looks a little surprised, bewildered even. He pauses for a moment eyeing me questionably before the tiniest smirk crosses his delicate lips.

"Jay," he oozes in his sexy, and I think American accent.

With my thoughts buzzing chaotically, I am instantly knocked over by a patron lining up beside me. The sheer size of him propels me right into Jay, this presumably American stranger who has already been my rescuer this evening. As soon as my hands grasp at his biceps, I can’t help but feel an electric shock radiate throughout my body. His very touch underneath my hands tears through me from the very tip of my fingers to its very core. A shiver runs over me and doesn’t stop until I regain my balance and release my grip. I tug a little at my blouse trying to gain my composure, both at the sudden knock and the now flushing of my cheeks from the sensation his touch had washed over me.

“I, ah, I’m sorry about that,” I mumble as I try to conceal my heated cheeks.

He doesn’t respond. He only stares through me with those insanely concentrated eyes, almost like he is trying to burn a hole right through me. They almost could.

“And you are?”

"I’m Pen - Penelope," I scramble.

"They have the room upstairs ready," one of the men interjects from over his shoulder tapping it roughly.  Without so much as an indication, they all turn away from me and head across the main floor. The three guys and my mystery danger guy who is now known as Jay, all head for the stairs that lead to the upper level of the club. My eyes follow in a trance, until they disappear in a sea of people.

What just happened?

Am I dreaming?

"Penny!" I hear Rosie's familiar voice and I instantly feel a rush of relief flood me. "There you are. It’s so crazy in here!" she almost shouts, as I become aware with how loud the place has become over the past...

What?

Few minutes?

"How long have you been waiting at the bar?" she questions, as her eyes raid my hands before realising her scotch she left with me is nowhere to be seen. From her frowning brow, I assume she knows where it disappeared to. I ignore her glare and look ahead, only to notice that I seem to be still standing a few rows away from the bar. I shake my head in utter confusion.

Did the past few minutes even happen?

"Ros-a-lie!"

A booming Italian voice hollers over the mumbling around us. With my head pounding, I look up to see her brother Tony and his business associate friend Marco approaching us. Her brother is well dressed in smart slim fit trousers that show off his muscular thighs and a fitted 3/4 sleeved lilac shirt. That beautiful golden skin he shares with his sister, peeking out from the top of his unbuttoned collar, the same hazel eyes and golden perfectly styled hair. He bears his enormous smile that takes up his entire face and has to be one the most infectious grins I had ever seen. It could almost tip even the most depressed soul in a slightly higher direction.

Almost.

"Pen-e-lope!" he bellows as he leans down towards me kissing me on cheek. I tilt my face obliging his traditional way of greeting, although it occurs to me that the last kiss I felt was from
him
.
I shiver painfully.

"Tony, how nice to see you,” I reply nonchalant.  "Marco,” I nod.

I notice Tony knowingly glare down at Rosie, a concerned look crosses his previous smile before he raises his eyes toward me. I realise that he must be having silent words about me, you know how people give their opinions by only using their knowing looks. I honestly wasn’t in the mood to hear, well, see anything of the sort so I resume my eyesight to the top floor where Jay was last seen. He doesn’t appear to be anywhere I can see from here.

Why do I even care?

I don’t really.

"Well ladies, I have reserved a space for us to relax and enjoy a drink," Tony starts before signalling his hand out in front of him.  "Please follow me."

Rosie turns toward me and does that child-like clap that she does when she’s excited and heads towards the staircase that leads to the upper level. I follow vacantly, like a brainless sheep following her heard while our companions mumble something to the nearby bar tender and follow attentively behind us. Once Rosie reaches the top floor, she waits for us to catch up allowing her brother to make his way to the front of our pack. There appears to be a roped off section up here which leads to another oversized door. I am slightly intrigued about what’s behind this section and wonder how elite you really need to be to get in there. Tony bends to reach the doorman’s ear. It is honestly so deafening in here now with the music thumping and parade of people that I can barely even hear my own thoughts. Or maybe it
is
just the alcohol.

The host unhinges one end of the tan rope from its bronze bollard and lets us through, leading us towards the extravagant entrance. As he carefully pushes open the polished red door we enter a completely different world.

Chapter Three

As the heavy door slowly opens, the room I’m faced with is very narrow with low ceilings and plush blood carpet. The walls are charcoal, draped in silk like curtains with the same glossy pendant lights hanging sporadically throughout the room. Along the sides there are privately appointed booths, each with black leather lounges and the same shiny steel tops on low coffee tables in the centre. They are half hidden behind woven dark wooden screens, assumedly to help make them that extra private; leaving a wide aisle directly down the centre. It’s quiet in here. It’s not filled with the loud music and noisy patrons like in the main part of the club, but a soft hum from the private conversations and the light melody playing in the background. Far across the opposite side of the room I spy a small stage with an acoustic guitar player strumming soulfully along in tune. From where I am standing it’s quite hard to make out, especially as the room is so dim, but the song sounds beautiful. I hadn’t heard it before but its smooth sound washes over me and I instantly feel much calmer and more at ease than I have felt since I got here.

"Come."

Tony leads us to a private table not far from the doorway we entered through and I follow Rosie’s lead and sit down beside her. The leather feels like it wraps itself snugly around my backside as I sink right down into the plush lounge. It’s extremely comfortable. I think of how nice it would be to be in my flannel pyjamas right now, curled up listening to the music cascade into the air. I instantly shudder at the disgraceful thought.

No sooner we are all seated a waiter delivers a full tray of drinks from shot glasses to champagne.

"Ros-a-lie, Pen-ne, I hope you understand we unfortunately cannot stay with you all night, but want you enjoy your private booth. It’s been reserved for you both for the evening," he says as he picks up two shot glasses and hands one to each of us. We look at each other and she is glowing, beaming with excitement.

I really feel like I owe her this night.

I have been such a shitty friend to her.

I gulp guiltily
.

I force a smile from the corner of my mouth and raise the shot glass in front of me, my hands still shaky from the strange encounters earlier.

"Cheers Penny," she says as we both raise the tiny glass to our lips. Tilting my head back I let the sting of the alcohol burn at the back of my throat and let out a distasteful cough.

"What was that?" I manage to ask, trying to disguise a tiny second one.

"Schnapps!" Tony beams his glistening grin as he finishes off his shot and slams the glass back on the tray. He pops the cork off the champagne bottle and fills each of the four glasses to the brim letting the bubbles tip ever so slightly over the edge. I take my eyes off the scene for a moment to scan around the room. It really is quite hard to see even the details in the booth closest to us. The way the room has been designed, really makes it obvious that this place is all about privacy. My thoughts begin to wander to strange images of adultery and affairs and the kind of place The Loft
really
could be. A type of behaviour it may unknowingly promote. These thoughts start to call to the pain that has been embedded in me for weeks.

Affairs?

Affairs.

I repeat to myself.

The agonizing word that has been in my head since the blindsided revelation that day. My beloved informing me that he indeed had had an affair, which would see our seemingly perfect future gurgle abruptly down the drain. So many questions inundated me that day and the months following.

How long did it go on?

Who was it with?

Was he in love with her?

Questions that even to this day have not been answered. I tried initially to piece it all together, but the constant re-hashing was making me delusional and depressed. In the days after when I moved in with Rosie, she encouraged me to let it all go and to focus on moving forward. An encouragement I haven’t quite gotten the handle on yet. But this outing, tonight, is a step in the right direction and I can’t help but think things can only improve from here.

Can they?

I continue to gaze around the room un-intentionally judging the fellow guests and there seemingly less than moral behaviour encouraged by my hurtful memories. I hear Tony's deep bellowing laugh, and I halt my room scanning to look at him.

"You look worried Pen-ne," he chuckles. "I assure you everything 'ere is above board."

I immediately blush. "What is this place?"

"T'is is the VIP room of the Loft, for those who enjoy their privacy so they aren’t disturbed..." he trails as he takes a decent sip of his champagne.

I raise my eyebrows momentarily intrigued.

So this is what a VIP room looks like?

I’ve never been in such a place before.

I shrug my shoulders instantly dismissing any interest.

My former self would have been exhilarated beyond belief that I was actually wining and dining with such high profile people, but this newer decrepit version of me wasn’t as interested. I take a huge swig of my champagne so that only half of my glass remains.

I hazily notice Rosie enjoying a conversation with Marco, as they are flirting furiously with each other. She is leaning well over her own lap, revealing her sizeable cleavage as it peers out from her low cut navy lace dress. I don’t know how she manages to behave like that with her brother sitting right opposite her, but Tony seems oblivious despite his over-protective nature. I roll my eyes at her obvious display, before regretfully sighing. It
does
feel good to see her enjoy herself again since Carlos and her ended only a few months ago. They were only together for a year but she was really invested in that relationship. I don’t think she even saw it coming. The days after they broke up she was a mess and then I moved in not long after. I think I became a distraction for her. Someone else that was in just as much pain as she was, so she focused all of her attention on me and my situation as her form of therapy.

Or perhaps denial
,
my evil conscious adds.

"Where is the bathroom?" I brashly interrupt her giggling with Marco to endure her irritated glare.

Ignoring her, I turn to face Tony who raises his hand up pointing towards the stage I saw at the very front of the room. As I abruptly stand, I scull the remaining half of my champagne and place the empty glass on the table. Feeling quite pleased with myself, I squint my eyes trying to see if I can make out any form of a restroom in the direction he indicated. Just next to the stage, I can barely make out the same narrow door I saw downstairs, so I make my way down the centre of the room towards it. I note that my toes are no longer troubling me, which means I’ve either cut off the circulation completely, or the alcohol is starting to set in. Either way it brings a tiny smile of accomplishment across my already numb lips. As I continue my slow pace across the floor, my eyes begin randomly scanning each booth as I pass it. Not really taking anything in as just walking straight now is a trying task.

I finally make it all the way to the diminutive stage, where I see a single stool accompanied by a microphone on a tall, tapered stand rest artistically in the centre. The performer is no longer there, only the timber guitar leaning effortlessly against the bottom of the stool on the stage floor. I find the door just beside it, and gently push the door open.

Wow.

The room is completely black, mysterious, yet luxurious. Reflective charcoal porcelain like tiles laid across the floor and walls, with huge diamond shaped mirrors covering the opposite wall where the wash basins hang. There are gold chandeliers that dangle gracefully over each basin, where their light glows brightly amongst the dim space. I go to the corner of the basins to where two bullion coloured toilets hide privately behind their tinted glass doors.

Wow.

This is probably the most beautiful bathroom I’ve ever seen! I’m instantly taken back to the hotel I stayed in when I visited Maui back in June. Leaving our winter weather seemed like the perfect choice for timing a romantic vacation so we could escape the cold. The bathroom at the resort was just as impressive but with a more tropical oasis kind of colour scheme. Suddenly the ache that has built its home in my chest over the past few months, rears its ugly head and I can feel the build-up starting to swell. That was the holiday that my world I loved came crashing down. The time when life as I knew it would all fade away. My beloved and I were on, what I thought would be the trip to start our life together. The night before I had found the ring and a delicate hand written note with words of his undying love for me scrambled on the yellow hotel paper. Tears slowly spill from the corners of my eyes and down onto my cheeks, as the memories from that day still stay very close to my wounded heart. The next morning was when everything abruptly ended.

My memories are instantly interrupted by the squeak of the restroom door so I quickly finish my business and stand up swiftly, using a sheet of toilet paper to blot the water from the corners of my eye. I anxiously pace toward the basins, not noticing the patron pass me into the empty stall and grip it tightly to stay on my feet. I turn the tap on carelessly swishing my hands in the water, sniffing hoarsely and trying to fight the hovering tears. Looking up in the mirror before me, my startling sombre reflection makes the inner swell rumble. I panic.

I have to get out of here.

I yank off the taps harshly and flee out the door in one quick move before...

"Oomph!"

I am stunned as I bump into someone barely outside the bathroom. Before I can look up I begin apologising, not wanting to embarrass myself further with my teary eyes.

"I’m so s-sorry, I wasn’t watching where I w-was going," I stutter trying to keep the waterworks at bay, failing most likely. Taking a few erratic breaths due to the thick air surrounding me, I raise my eyes slowly. I am shocked to be greeted by the same intense gaze of my mystery man number two, with the edge of danger filling my immediate surroundings. It’s Jay.

"Penelope?” he questions, seemingly just as surprised. "So we meet again.”

"No, I’m sorry... I’m... I’m so sorry." I keep shaking my head trying to gather some proper thoughts and form words or an explanation. Anything! But I am a wreck.

I shouldn’t be here.

This has all been far too much.

I tried and have failed.

Just get me out of here!

Before I can stop it, a stray tear falls to my chin and I tilt my head back to try to halt anymore from following its fearless lead. I feel Jay's icy finger on my chin absorbing the runaway emotion. The immediate sensation of his touch strikes me powerfully, as he wipes the sole tear in one swift move. He then rests his finger on the very tip of my chin, ever so delicately and the tremors start to run from his touch to my toes, uncontrollably.

"Are you alright?"

His voice is soft and oddly concerned. I gasp inward from the perilous sound of it and the feel of his foreign skin against my now flustered face. I move away uncomfortably, allowing his hand to fall by his side.

"Not really," I murmur wiping my eyes with my hand in a real non lady like manner, and probably smearing mascara all over my face. "I don't mean to be rude but I just need to go. I’m sorry.”

I begin to turn away from him but not even a full stride away, I feel his tender touch on the very peak of my shoulder. The contact sends an immediate message to my body and I stop, only moving my head towards the sensation as I fix my eyes on his fingers.

"Come and have a drink," he whispers through the air, his voice cutting through me like a sharp, precise blade through soft butter. I’m not sure why my body is having this reaction to him.

Should I be afraid?

Is it fear?

Without moving my head from my shoulder I glance up in his direction slowly and cautiously, so as if not to scare a wild animal. My head is screaming at me to leave and that I can’t bear to face this anymore. But for some reason my body isn’t doing what it’s being told. For some reason I can’t find the words to decline his offer. When the words came so easily to fend off mystery guy number one, incoherently it’s proving more difficult with Jay.

Just say NO Penny.

Just walk away.

"Please, you look upset. I have a table nearby. I wouldn’t feel right letting you wander off in this... state.”

But for unknown reasons my body is drawn to him. The nervousness, the danger in the air, all of it speaks its own language to me that my brain doesn’t understand. Before I can put together any form of polite refusal, I can feel the confirmation building from inside me.

"O.. Okay."

He immediately motions me to follow his lead and my body obliges again without thought; burnt out most likely after what I have been dealt with. He leads me to what I thought was the corner of the VIP room until we are faced with more of the oriental screens. I notice that the main area veers off into a smaller intimate space - hidden away from the rest of the guests. From the other side where we entered and where Rosie is seated, you couldn’t even see this section of the room. I can’t help but feel anxious at this notion, as my body now reacts the way my brain is thinking by shivering nervously. The three guys who I vaguely remember seeing with Jay earlier at the bar, are rested on a leather lounge each with a woman seated almost on top of them. I scan my eyes from each person staring at me from below. Their eyes are un-emotive and distant; and the way the women are draped all over them, make me cover my hands across my body self consciously.

BOOK: Cut
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