The Ties That Grind

 

Kelly Banner thrust her hips and pulsed to the beat of the soca song that blared through the speakers of Club Royal Belize. People danced around and beside her, their eyes closed and their bodies swaying with the rhythm.

A wild, animalistic frenzy hovered over the crowd tonight, infecting her with its potent energy.

“Wine it on meeee! Wine on mee!” the singer crooned.

Kelly obliged, moving her waist and backing up on a short, dark-skinned man with cornrows, dark eyes, and a scraggly beard. His raised hand clutched a beer bottle and the other cupped her rear as he pulled her closer.

The insistent pressure of his pelvis annoyed her, but she pushed off the reaction. Even in the dim lighting of the nightclub, she could tell that he wasn’t the kind of man who could get a girl when she was sober.

Offering her version of charity, Kelly turned to face him fully and flattened her body against his, riding the beat and every roll of his hips until his sweat stained the fabric of her off-the-shoulder blouse and mini-skirt.

The song ended and the DJ grabbed the mike. “How ya’ll feeling tonight?” he asked. Kelly picked up the Jamaican twang coating his words. He was definitely not from around here.

The lights over the stage flipped on and she eyed the announcer, having been too busy dancing earlier to give him a proper scan. He had light brown skin and intelligent eyes. His nose was strong and flared and his lips were thick. Kissable. He wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but he was solid—his arms massive and sinewy.

Just the way she liked it.

“I’m DJ Talon, and I love all the beautiful ladies who came here to dance tonight.”

The crowd responded with roars of approval and hoots of laughter. She joined in, clapping her hands and pumping her fists over her head. Dancing was her drug and the release she experienced in the club was something close to euphoric.

“Ready for the next one?”

She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. “Enough talking!” Those close enough to hear her chuckled.

As the music started again, Kelly bent her knees—prepared to dance—when she felt hot, shuttered breaths on her ear. Surprised, she spun to find her dance partner inching his fingers up her arm.

“You look thirsty,” he said, the scent of him nearly overwhelming her now that the music wasn’t covering the stench. “Should I buy you a drink?”

She scoffed. “No thanks.”

“How about we go somewhere… more private?” His eyes were trained on hers and the message behind them was crystal clear.

Kelly pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. That’s what she got for giving men an inch. Did he really think he could go a few miles with her just because they’d danced together?

She wasn’t that tipsy.

“I’ll get my own drink!” she yelled to be heard over the dancehall song DJ Talon had selected. The crowd bumped together and dove headfirst into the beat so that Kelly had to squirm and wiggle her way out of the mass.

As soon as she moved closer to the bar, she sucked in a big gulp of air and fanned her face. The dance floor had been an inferno. Her clothes pressed against her skin and the scent of beer and another, unsavory substance lingered around her.

Kelly tugged at her blouse and noticed a brown hand waving at her from the bar. A smile formed on her face and it grew into a full-blown grin when she spotted Renesha, her best friend, sipping from a tall glass with a lime wedge on the rim.

Gliding over, Kelly plopped into the bar stool and pressed her elbows against the cool counters. “What’s that? Long Island?”

“You know I don’t drink anything else.” Rene jerked her chin toward the gyrating crowd. “Had fun?”

“Of course. I live to dance.” Kelly lifted her long black hair—courtesy of Chick’s Beauty Store—off her neck.  “This old guy tried to get with me, but I shut him down.”

“What if he turns out to be rich?” Rene wiggled her eyebrows and bent over to take another sip of her drink.

“Trust me. He wasn’t.”

“You never know, girl. Some rich men stay undercover.” Rene grinned, her hazel eyes sparkling as she teased. “What will you do if he’s loaded?”

“If I shut him down, I can turn him on again,” Kelly said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Wow. You didn’t even stop to think about that. What would Clayton say?”

“Girl, don’t even talk to me about Clayton, right now. He’s the reason I’m in the club on a Wednesday night.” Kelly tapped her hand on the steel counter to get the bartender’s attention. “I’ll have what she’s having.” The man nodded and whirled around to prepare her drink.

Rene pulled at the fringes of her short jeans skirt, reclaiming Kelly’s attention. “I figured it had something to do with him when you called me up last minute and dragged me out here. You two fighting again?”

Kelly shook her head, her dark brown eyes glittering with anger. “It’s the same-old, same-old. He won’t leave his wife. He doesn’t want to break up his family. Yada, yada, yada.”

“You’re acting like he hasn’t told you that a million times.”

“And he’s crawled back to my bed a million and one. What? Just because I love him, he thinks he can string me along?” Kelly sucked her teeth. “If I find a rich man, I’ll marry him immediately and keep Clayton on the side.”

Rene held her stomach as she doubled over in laughter. “That’s messed up.”

“The world is a messed up place.” Kelly accepted the drink the bartender slid her way. “Why don’t you dance?”

“I can’t keep up with you. I prefer to watch.”

“Girl, spread your legs for meeee!” The song perked Kelly’s ears and she did a little lap dance on her bar stool as the bass dropped and picked up again.

“I love that part.” Rene bopped her head. “That DJ’s on fire tonight. Why is he playing on a Wednesday? He should have the Saturday night gig.”

“He’s cute too.” Kelly glanced over her shoulder at the man spinning the tracks. “I should see if he’s single.”

“All of a sudden you care about a man’s relationship status?”

Kelly lifted her hands. “Hey, one taken guy is more than enough for me.”

“What high standards.”

“Right?”

“Are you ready to go home?” Rene asked.

“The night is young.”

“Trust me. You’ll want your beauty sleep.”

Kelly tipped her head. “Why?”

“I hear the new C.E.O. of the company is going to drop by during the staff meeting tomorrow. They say he’s foine. He may be the rich guy you’ve been looking for.”

“Please. I don’t mix work and pleasure or I would have already undressed Tarique from the Call Center downstairs. Now that man…” Kelly blew out a breath, “he’s worth taking to the storage closet.” She nudged Rene. “If you know what I mean.”

“Another married guy, Kel?” Rene laughed. “He’s engaged to be married next week. You’re horrible.”

“I forgot that he was getting married.” Kelly pouted. “I must be drunk.”

“You’re horny, that’s what you are. You want to take a taxi home or walk?”

“I can walk.”

“Are you sure?” Rene glanced at her watch and frowned. “It’s after midnight. Forget it. I’ll call a taxi. Your apartment is too far to walk this time of night.”

Kelly knocked back the rest of her drink and set her hand over Rene’s. “How about we do this? I’ll go with you in the taxi and then walk the rest of the way home. Your place is closer to my apartment than here.”

“Alright. That makes me feel better.” Rene made the arrangements and ten minutes later, the girls climbed into their trusted taxi driver’s back seat, giggling and chatting until he stopped in front of Rene’s bungalow.

“Thank you, Mr. August!” they chimed.

“No problem, girls.”

Kelly and Rene climbed out of the car and paid Mr. August before parting ways on the sidewalk.

“Make sure you give Randal some love for letting you out tonight,” Kelly said, walking backward.

Rene snickered. “This is exactly why he doesn’t like you. You’re a bad influence on me. I want to be a good little girlfriend.”

“But being ‘bad’ is so much more fun,” Kelly purred.

“Girl, go home!”

The women waved and Kelly took off, allowing the sweet Caribbean breeze and the throaty cadence of nocturnal insects to wash the scent of the club from her body and soul.

She stuck her hands into her pants pockets and pulled out her phone, a lump forming in her throat when she saw that there were no new messages.

For all her bluster and bravado, Kelly was deeply hurt by Clayton’s silence. She gripped the phone tightly in her fingers and brushed a tear from her eye. Club Royal had been a great place to knock back a few beers and let off some steam, but tonight the withdrawal left her especially lonely.

Would Clayton come over without the promise of makeup sex?

Probably not.

Kelly unlocked the door to her empty apartment and went to sleep. Alone.