Her Secret Pleasure (5 page)

“Sean and I have been burned a few times already by
professionals
and we’re tired taking that chance. We want someone we know who will put their heart into the club as much as we have. I remember you had an obsessive streak about you. I remember you threw yourself in entirely when you dedicated yourself to something.”

The way Zach pinned me to the stacks with his heavy blue gaze, I thought he was peeling all my memories from my head of all the things I’d done with his brother.
Obsession. Dedication.
These were words I’d once described about myself when it came to Sean. Something inside told me he knew, somehow.

“Oh,” I whispered and tightened my grip on the book. “I suppose that changes things a little.”

He relaxed and smiled. “Good. The girl at the desk said you get off at five. Can I send a car for you?”

“Tonight?”

“We’re a bit pressed for time. Everything is ready and spread out already and we need to get it done and all the paint equipment out to start bringing furniture in. Unless you have plans already...?”

I swallowed and shook my head. “No. No plans.” In my head I was screaming and ranting about how bad an idea this was, but instead I said, “Sure. I’ll be ready at five.”

“Perfect. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. And hopefully we’ll be able to catch up. Both of us.”

Both of us.

“You’ll both be there?” I couldn’t control the tiny squeak in my voice. I desperately wanted to shove this whole conversation back into my mouth and run the moment he showed up.

“Possibly. I’m not sure what Sean’s plans are. I know I’m going to be doing some interviews for wait staff. I’m sure he won’t want to miss seeing you though.”

5

____________

Anxiety left me hiding in the bathroom at the library twenty minutes after five o’clock. With my hands on the edge of the sink, I stared into my reflection and willed myself to leave the bathroom and meet the car. A part of me wanted to see Sean more than anything in the world, but my rational, grown-up side knew his reappearance was already feeding an addiction I’d spent a long time trying to forget.

Blonde hair spilled across my shoulders, a soft mess I wish I’d styled that morning. Dark eyes hid behind my small, black framed glasses and in them I saw nothing but fear and panic. I wanted to lock myself in my apartment and hide away for a few days with a pile of books. I wanted to eat something rich and melancholy. I didn’t want Sean to see that I had the same body I had in college, too curvy, too soft, too plump in all places girls were expected to be thin.

I wanted to make the girl in the mirror disappear.

But I couldn’t hide, not after Zach’s plea of needing friends who wouldn’t screw them over. I didn’t know how I’d look Sean in the eye, but we were both grown-ups, right? He might not even show up.

If only I could be so lucky.

I took a deep breath and stood up straight, sucked in my stomach and smoothed my hand down the front of my dress. It could have been worse. I could have been wearing baggy slacks and an old sweater. At least today I looked like a girl with my dress and grey knee-high knit socks.

Despite making it wait, the black car idled at the curb with an unhurried driver leaning against the door. I didn’t own a car, only kind of knew how to drive out of necessity, but hadn’t practiced in years. I certainly didn’t have a driver. At most I’d taken a few cabs and the cabby never held the door open for me. It felt strange leaning back in the plush back seat. It was probably a sign of my impending insanity but I thought I caught a whiff of Sean’s musky cologne.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” I told the driver who glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled.

“It’s no problem at all. I took the liberty of picking you up something to eat. I figured you probably wouldn’t have time to get dinner on your own.” He turned and handed me a sack from one of my favorite Italian places in Philomel. Inside I found a marinated chicken salad with thin sliced meat, artichoke hearts, and mushrooms in a light vinaigrette. One of my favorites.

“You are my hero. Thank you so much.”

He laughed. “You can call me Davis. It’s good of you to help Zach and Sean. There was some real concern when that kid flew back to New York.”

“I do what I can,” I murmured. I inhaled the scent of the marinade and held the bag against my chest like a shield against what was to come. The city pottered by at rush hour, too slow for my racing heart. Strangers glared at me through their windows. I rested my head against the glass and listened to their noisy lives.

It took nearly thirty minutes to pull into the parking lot. Davis got out and opened the door for me and wow, the presence of the building was intense. Purples and blacks highlighted the shadow of the wonderland trees the made up the architecture of the building. A black and white striped awning fluttered in the wind, sending waves through the sheer curtains that hung along its side. I could see the city’s beautiful socialites coming here every night to be swallowed by this place. I had no doubt Zach and Sean were about to become a groundbreaking success.

“Miss Mahoney?” Davis said quietly and I followed him to the great doors. He opened them for me and I made my way into the dark.

The walls of the entry lounge were velvet soft and lit by a crystal chandelier that sent tiny rainbows of light across the walls and sparkly granite floor. A woman stood behind the podium where hosts would greet visitors. She was going down a checklist with a delivery man, her rushed, pinched face in direct contrast with the disinterested look of the delivery guy.

We moved past them through another set of double doors and the world of Wonderland opened up to me. Here rich berries, cobalts, and royal purples blended together with accents of black and silver. Sheer fabric curtained from the tufted ceiling, everything bathed in soft textures and moodiness. I could see that when the mood lighting came on from drop glass lights, this place would transform its guests.

There were already couches lined up along one wall, Victorian inspired but also very modern. There were some tables, none set up yet, crowding one corner. A set of crisp silver French doors with fogged windows led into a second room on the right, while opposite a set of fabric wrapped royal purple doors with iron handles designed with heart shaped swirling flourishes led into a third. The purple doors had keyhole shaped windows in them.

The granite floor with its sparkle texture was covered with a drop cloth, paint, supplies, and a ladder. Beyond the mural was a bar only half stocked, framed by a giant looking glass mirror in an ornate silver frame.

And to my utter astonishment, I realized in the formal edges of the frame were carvings of fairy tale characters. Just like the box in my closet.

Everything I’d feared in the bathroom and the car ride over came rushing back and every instinct in my body screamed at me to flee.

This realization made me feel sick inside. Maybe I should have felt something else, like pride or pleasure, but I couldn’t dredge those emotions up. I hated that he’d thrown away everything we’d had together away, but had no problem making it part of his restaurant.

I very badly wanted to grab a bottle off the bar and throw it as hard as I could into the mirror.

Maybe that was unfair. I had a lifetime of shuttering my impulses, so I did nothing but stand there stupid and silently furious. Maybe the club would be beautiful, but I didn’t want to share my part in it with all the gorgeous, wealthy people of the city who would never understand how much it had once meant to me.

“Wait here, Miss Mahoney. I’ll go get Zach.” Davis disappeared through a set of doors behind the bar and I took the time to exhale and calm my heart.

Maybe it wasn’t fair that he’d been inspired by our experiences together to turn it into a restaurant, but I also knew that he’d wanted his own place more than anything else when we were in school together. It wasn’t just my experiences that he’d drawn on. They were his too.

“Kara! You made it. What do you think?” Zach appeared through the doors carrying two boxes of glasses. He set them on the bar before coming to greet me. Despite the manual labor, he looked as good and put together as he had this afternoon.

“This place is incredible, Zach.” I was a little more prepared for a hug than I was the first time, but it still felt very strange to touch the other brother that way. “You guys must be so excited.”

“You have no idea. We’ve been dreaming about this place since college.” He smiled and glanced around as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I think it’ll be pretty spectacular with all the finishing touches. Do you like the theme? We wanted to bring adult luxury together with the imagination we only seem to allow ourselves as children, but we didn’t want a gentleman’s club either. We were shooting for something in between where couples could have dinner and, well, get themselves excited about going home.” He grinned wryly and crossed his arms over his chest. The insinuation made me blush.

“I think you’re going to make a lot of marriages a lot more exciting, that’s for sure.”

We laughed and he motioned me over to the drop cloth. “Well, here it is. Do you think you can finish it?”

I looked over the design. It had a lovely, haunted quality to it that really spoke to me. “I can do this.”

And I knew I could. I’d lied about giving up painting. I still did it from time-to-time and the truth was, I did feel excited about being a part of this. That Sean might want me to be a part of this, even in some small way. Realizing that, it helped calm my fury at seeing our past in novelty form. It didn’t have to be a betrayal. Maybe it could even help me move on.

“You’re my hero, Kara. If there’s anything you need, ask anyone you see. They know to drop everything to get it for you.”

I nodded and for a moment his gaze lingered on my face with a look of handsome curiosity. He looked away then, ran his hand through his hair, and left my side to meet the woman from the front door. I wondered at his strange behavior.

A nagging part of me wondered why it was Zach here asking for my help and not Sean.

My phone buzzed, startling me, and I dug it out of my bag.
Wish you were here - Marcus
. I smiled. Somehow in the middle of all this crazy, I’d forgotten that I wasn’t entirely alone in this world. That Sean didn’t really matter anymore. Maybe we didn’t have a perfect relationship, but we had something and that was enough. Suddenly I wanted to be in his bed, kneeling in front of him, eager to please him any way I could.

I put my phone away, set my stuff aside, and slipped out of my shoes. It was now or never.

###

 Each time the door to the kitchen opened, the scent of simmering raspberries filled the restaurant. I could taste them in the air, notes of burgundy and cocoa tantalizing my senses. They reminded me of Marcus’s bedroom and the heady incense he’d burned the night before. I rather easily lost myself in the drawings despite people coming and going around me.

Art spoke to the part of me that very dearly loved reading. I needed them both to escape the world when it all became too much. It was worse when I was a kid, when my escape came from a confused need for the safety I couldn’t find elsewhere. As an adult I always understood what I was running from, but the pleasure of falling into story or stepping through into a frozen moment on canvas was no less seductive.

The longer I painted, the more I felt drawn to this place. I understood its allure, a real life painting we could all step into for one night. Who wouldn’t want to be transported to another world of sumptuous, guiltless appetite? It was admirable that the Castle brothers wanted to give this gift to others instead of keeping it for themselves.

The kitchen door swung open again, letting out another whiff of caramelized fruit sugars. Workers had been coming and going for the past hour, so I thought nothing of it until the woman began to speak.

“She’s all
wrong
. People want the fantasy girl to serve them. They want a beautiful face, slender body, long legs, a mouth that could take you over the moon and back. They don’t want the girl next door who likes cupcakes a little too much on the weekends. We’re wasting our time.”

I stopped, hand poised over a swirling tree limb. The woman’s voice sent scratches down my backbone. It took all my courage to turn and face what I was sure was my own scalding assessment.

Zach followed a woman into the restaurant, listening to her verbal assault with a patient disinterest. He leaned himself against the door frame in such a casual way that the woman’s eyes momentarily widened and her fists closed in barely restrained fury.

She was lovely, the image of the fantasy woman she’d described moments before, but more than that. She carried her power in her naked shoulders, straight and tall as if she had a ruler strapped to her spine. Her halter style dress scooped down her back, exposing bony shoulder blades and glowing honey skin. Her white blonde hair and
red red
lips made her one of the most exotic beauties I’d ever seen.

This was Taylor Roth in the flesh. She was more beautiful in person than in the magazines.

“I saw her when she came in for an application, Zach. She’s not good enough.”

Zach shrugged and slouched with his arms crossed over his chest and even though her stiletto heels had her towering over him in that position, he seemed less impressed with her than I felt. When she moved, her dress caught on her thin hips, folded down her thighs in such a way that caused my heart to squeeze. Sean touched those thighs. That night, perhaps he’d drag that dress up her thighs and lose himself between them.

“You wanted to be involved in the interviews and I’m ok with that. However, that does not give you carte blanche to level judgment before giving a formal interview. Men enjoy all kinds of women, Taylor. Live a little.”

“Oh please.” Taylor swiped a hand through the air dismissively. “Men are not that sophisticated. And she is not a woman, Zach. She’s barely twenty-one. She’s still in college, working on a degree in theater costume design of all things. She’s a train wreck. We want our customers to fantasize over the possibility of taking one of these girls home. We don’t want to offer them the girl they already
have
at home.”