If I Say Yes (6 page)

Preston nods his head and moves to the side to let me pass. I walk
down the dimly lit hallway with him close on my heels. The hall opens
up to the familiar club that once was a constant part of my life. The
scene remains unchanged. This club attracts a variety of people, but appeals more towards the upper social class and quite popular. The most gorgeous men and women come here. Women wearing skimpy dresses grind their bodies up against any man who’s willing on the dance floor in the middle of the club. Other women run their fingers
up and down the arms of men having drinks at the bar on the left side
of the club, regardless of the fact that they are wearing wedding rings.
The rest of the women have arranged themselves on the laps of the men
sitting in the private booths that circle the dance floor. The men are
just as sleazy, if not worse. They take pleasure in the attention they are
receiving and have no regard for their wives at home. It’s disgusting, and the men are nothing but pigs.

It’s amazing how little a place can change in six years.

“Will this work?” Preston says as he points to a table on the right.
He clearly understands what I meant when I said I wanted the darkest,
most out of sight table in the club.

“This is perfect. Thank you.” I smile. “And if you could, please tell
no one of my presence here.”

“Your secret is safe with me, darling.” I slide into the booth and
stare up at him. I never realized until now how much I have missed him. “It’s good to see you, Elizabeth. It’s been six years too long.”

My heart pulls at his words. Maybe there are some people I should
have never cut out of my life, him included. I don’t have the heart to tell him that this is the last and only time he will see me step foot in
this club. After tonight, I plan on never ever coming in here again. Well,
as long as I am not blackmailed into it again. Preston begins to walk
away, and I call out to him. “Oh, and Preston…” He stops and glances
towards me. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone here. He’ll be
searching for me under the name of Liza Winter, so if you can, bring him to my table when he arrives. His name is Reid Harder.”

The look on Preston’s face says he knows who I am talking about. How? That I didn’t know nor did I care to know. I just want to get this
dumb drink and meeting thing over with and get the hell out of here.
“Anything for you, Ms. Elizabeth.”

At twenty minutes past nine, Reid still hasn’t shown up. If he isn’t
here in the next ten minutes, I’m leaving. It’s as simple as that. I have already been here longer than I want to be. It’s only a matter of time
before someone comes trekking through this area, seeking for a hiding
place to do who knows what. I glance around to see if I can spot him.
In a club this large, though, it’s nearly impossible. I notice a couple
of people I knew from the past and shrink back in my chair. I’m sure if I can see them from where I am sitting, they can probably see me. Though they probably aren’t looking at me like I am at all of them.

My heart aches momentarily as I realize none of my old friends
are searching for me. That they are here, having the time of their lives
on a Friday night, without a care in the world. I am long out of their
minds. I know this is what I wanted, what I set out to do in the beginning,
but even after six years, it still hurts that they all gave up so easily on
our friendship when I shut them out. So much for being friends for life.
The only one who didn’t give up on me and made it perfectly clear he
wasn’t going anywhere was Elias. For which I am eternally grateful. If it wasn’t for him, I would truly be alone in this world.

I peek at my phone again. Its twenty-five minutes past nine, and still no sign of Reid.
I’m not going to wait any longer.
I start to stand up
and leave my table when Preston reappears. “Excuse me, Elizabeth, but
it seems your Reid Harder guy has already arrived and is waiting for you at his table.”

“Can you let him know that I will only meet him here?”

“Already did…” Preston is still efficient as ever. “But he is insistent
that you come to him. He also asked me to remind you that Horror is on the line, whatever that means.”

“That bastard…” I mutter under my breath. He isn’t oblivious to
my reluctance about coming here. He may not know the story as to
why, but he can’t be that stupid. “Where is he?”

“Platinum booth.”

“Of course he is.” My old table, which is the most open, most visible
booth in the club. He is putting me on display when I least want it. My
head screams at me to leave now and to turn in my resignation letter
to Harder Senior on Monday and leave it at that. Nothing is worth what
I am about to endure. “Is there a less visible path to get to it?” I know the answer to my question, but I still ask it regardless.”

“’Fraid not, Elizabeth; you know that.”

Yes, I do.

All eyes are on me as I walk towards the platinum booth. The
booth is in front of the dance floor, up on a high stage, on display for
everyone to see and eye with jealousy whoever is sitting there. There’s
only two ways to get to it. The first is to walk along the narrow walkway
between the dance floor and the ring of booths that surround it. The second is to go right through the middle of the dance floor. I choose
the first option. No one seems to notice who I am, but they still stare at
me, no doubt because of my clothes. My outfit is the polar opposite of
the women in the club with their too short dresses, their butt cheeks hanging out, and strapless tops that leave their cleavage in danger of falling out.

I recognize more people now that I am down on their level. Some
stare at me with disgust as I weave past them. Some shake their heads,
while others just stare at me with disbelief. I really should have rethought
my outfit tonight. I keep my head held high and my eyes straight
forward. This walk is the longest five minute walk of my life.

Reid is alone in the booth as I reach the top of the stairs. He is
wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, a plain dark green shirt, and a pair
of Converse. He looks even hotter than he does in a suit. A smile spreads
across his face as he stands in front of the long, white sectional couch.
The booth has not changed, much like the rest of the club. “You captured
a lot of attention on your way up here,” he says, and another smile
spreads across his face.

I stop in front of the low glass table in front of him, cross my arms,
and glare at him. Reid frowns and sits down on the couch. I walk around
the table and sit on the far opposite end, as far away as I possibly can,
making it perfectly clear that I am not happy to be here. “Oh, come on,”
he says over the music. “At least act like you’re going to enjoy yourself.”

“Why did you ask me here?” I ask brusquely. Reid moves closer to me on the couch, close enough so we no longer have to shout over the music.

“To get to know you better outside of the work place. That way I can figure out how to help you.”

“But why here? Why not a
restaurant
or
someplace
...” I catch myself
before I say someplace intimate in the nick of time. I never want to find
myself in an intimate setting with him. “Someplace else.”

“I like the atmosphere.”

“Right.” I laugh. “If you really want to get to know me better, you
should know this isn’t my kind of scene. I don’t really fit in here.” I
make a gesture to my clothes, and he moves closer. Our bodies are
nearly touching now. I can smell the same rich cologne he was wearing
earlier. My body vibrates with a hum of energy I have never felt before.
His smell is intoxicating, so much so that I just want to reach out and touch the curve of muscles that defines his arms.

“You could fit in anywhere you go,” he leans in and whispers in
my ear. Another hum of energy dances through my body, and I move
away. He’s too close. “You didn’t see everyone staring at you the way
I did.”

“It’s because I stand out with my clothes.” I try to move further
away from him again and realize I am out of room on the couch. “What
do you really want, Reid?”

What all men want
, I think to myself. I shake my head, trying to get the thought out of my mind. What I wouldn’t give to see him standing
in front of me naked, to be tracing the lines of his body.
Stop it.
I mentally
slap myself in the head. I cannot think about him like this. I cannot ever
go
there
with him, or anyone. Reid is staring at me with a wide grin
on his face, and I glare at him. “I want to get to know you better. To see
what makes you tick, to know why you don’t like romance… and to
see what makes you smile.”

The last part comes out barely a whisper, and I’m almost sure I made
it up. “Why do you need to know these things?” I ask breathlessly.

“I can’t figure you out. But I want to…” His voice is eager. His eyes shift, dropping his mask, and revealing something much deeper to him.
A need to feel loved. Something I can never give him. “I need to.”

I say nothing and stare straight ahead. I can’t look at him, I better
not even think about glancing at him, because if I do, all my hard work
will blow right out of the window. I set these rules I have so I never
risk falling in love again, so I never get my heart broken again, but Reid
makes me want to throw caution to the wind and say to the hell with
it. Something about him ignites my veins, and that feeling isn’t something
I can trust. It’s a feeling I don’t know what to do with.

“Dance with me?” he asks as he stands up and holds a hand out to me. I snap my attention back at him, and I swear my jaw hits the floor.

“E-E-Excuse me?” His question came out of left field, and I never saw it coming. “No,” I say defiantly.

“Dance with me… just one dance. What harm can it do?”

“OKAY.”
The word is
out of my mouth before I can even register
what I have said. My body betrays me by standing up and placing my
hand in his. The touch of his hand in mine sends a wave of excitement
coursing through my body. Reid is smiling like a kid in a candy store,
and before I can change my mind, he is dragging me down to the
dance floor.

A few heads turn to watch at us as we brush past them on the
dance floor, but that’s all. A momentarily flicker of fear flashes in my mind.
What if someone recognizes me?
I don’t have another second to
get my thoughts together and get off the dance floor before Reid pulls
me against him. Our bodies began to sway to the music, my legs fitting
perfectly between his, my body grinding against his. I wrap my arms
around the back of his neck as he rests his hands on my waist and
nuzzles his face near the nape of my neck. We lose ourselves in the
music, and I don’t know how long we dance. I didn’t realize until now
how much I missed this.

I turn around, pressing my backside against his growing length,
and his hands wander up and down my body. My body is on fire,
yearning for his roaming hands to touch me in all of my sensitive
places. I cast my eyes around the room, but no one is paying attention
to us, and it’s just Reid and I against the music. That’s when I see
his
eyes on us, the dark blue eyes that belong to the guy who broke my
heart all those years ago.

All the air leaves my body, and I can’t breathe. I stop dancing and
return his stare with horror. He smiles at me and winks; that’s when it hits me that he knows who I really am. “What’s wrong, beautiful?” Reid’s seductive voice whispers in my ear.

I spin on my toes and stare at him. His dark eyes have filled of lust
and hunger. “This was a mistake. I have to go.” I shove my way through
the crowd as fast as I can. I don’t glance back out of fear that if I do, I may never leave. I pass the table where I sat when I first arrived and
hustle down the hallway just as the tears begin to stream down my face.

How could I lose control like that?
Why did I have to dance with him?
I
shake my head and continue down the dim hall. “Elizabeth, everything
okay?”

I stop to see Preston walking towards me, worry filling his eyes.
“Thank you. I’m fine.” I brush past him and shove the door open. The
cold air hits me in the face, and I start to run. Just like I did six years ago. It’s funny how time really doesn’t change anything.

***

“It’s all your fault, Elizabeth.” I hear the sound of my mother’s
voice. I sit up in my bed and glance around the dark room. It can’t be my mother; my mother is dead.

“Mom?” I say softly, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Like a flash of lightning, she appears at the foot of my bed. My mother
looks just like she did the last time I saw her, with her blonde hair and
clothes saturated in blood and puncture wounds everywhere. I cringe
and cast my eyes away, unable to face her.