Taking a long shower calms me somewhat. Dressing in my Disney character pajamas provides me with added comfort, before getting myself a cup of Earl Grey tea. I need to look over tomorrow’s projects and get organized. I search for my phone in my handbag, and see eight missed calls from Jules and five more from Kameron. Knowing that Kameron each night is literally tied up with her male partners, Jules must have passed on the events of this afternoon’s shenanigans early on to her. I’m surprised I didn’t hear her roaring with laughter from her place.
Instead of calling Jules, I opt to call my brother, Benjamin. He understands a small part of my life and he is always able to cheer me up.
The phone rings a couple of times before he picks up, chirping down the line, “Hey, sis, what’s up?”
“I can tell someone’s in a good mood tonight,” I smile. “I thought I would give you your weekly big sister call to check in on what’s been happening in the life of Benjamin Winters? Any new gossip?”
“Sadly not. Unless you want to hear about the leggy blonde who caught my attention at a seminar on Tuesday? We ended up in the bathroom stalls. Darn, the tiles were hard. Or what about the short brunette who aroused me, taking me back to her apartment where we did all sorts of wicked pleasantries to each other on Wednesday night after drinks with the guys? Or the other blonde…, or was she strawberry blonde? I guess it hardly matters much. She stripped her white blouse off and threw it at me at party…”
Roaring hysterically, I yell down the phone, “Stop, Ben, stop… I can’t take anymore… I’m practically rolling around on the floor, you manwhore. Sounds like you’ve been having way, way…too much fun. I’m sensitive, you know, those images aren’t good for my innocent head.” I’m snorting with laughter now. It melts my heart hearing him so happy, willful of what I’m going through is worth it for his happiness.
“Any news your end? Any new clients or men you would like to tell me about?” His cheeky voice penetrates my ears. Hopeful that one day I may divulge to him the name of any guy who has taken my fancy.
“No… Same old, same old. All work, no time to play.” There’s no point in telling him about Alex. He’s still my fantasy at the moment.
“Well, I’ll leave you now so I can go and cleanse those images from my mind with a wine or two. Be kind to yourself, Benjamin. And make sure you’re using protection,” I stress before I say, “I love you.” I hang up the phone as my brother replies with, “Love you, too, sis”.
After my conversation with my brother, my worries have dissipated somewhat. Going through the violence as we did when we were younger I still constantly worry about him. Even though he was hurt by my father only a handful of times, the scars still run deep. The death of our father hit him hard, though, and I’m sure tomorrow he and mum will be together again making their yearly visit to his gravesite to give him kind words, tears, and forgiveness. That is something I will never do. If they both knew the full extent to my father’s actions after his death, they would understand why I refuse every single year to go. I made a promise to myself that they would never know and I intend to keep it locked inside me until the day I die.
Weariness washes over me as I gather up my diary and look at my appointments ready for tomorrow:
9:30 AM New contact
12 PM Lunch with Kameron and Jules
2 PM Final review for 60th anniversary
4 PM Call Mrs. Maddock for baby shower last details on Wednesday
Huh, looks like tomorrow won’t be such a bad day after all. If Jules and I can book in the new client’s ceremony, Miss Elizabeth Johannson, yielding us one more elite and prestigious wedding, that will help boost our profile. It is just a step closer to being one of the most ‘sought-after’ event management teams in Australia.
Deciding it’s time to stop procrastinating and putting Jules off any longer, I pour a glass of red wine and make myself comfortable in my bed, aware this call could go on and on. Explaining the details intricately to Jules would be painstakingly long. I knew this for a fact. Jules tomorrow at work would be unbearable if I sidestep crucial details. It is proven from my own past experiences that the only way to deal with my best friend is to be forthcoming with every minuscule detail, or I would still be encountering her multiple questions for days to come.
Dialing her number, immediately a loud, deafening, “You’re avoiding me, Isla,” booms through the phone. Holding the device inches from my ear, she continues, “Isla Winters, I’ve called you ten times already and not one message? I’m pissed at you!”
Giggling at this moment probably isn’t the best way to calm Jules down, but it bubbles up inside me and it just blurts out.
“I have my ways to make you spill everything, Isla. You know I can.” Pushing Jules is not a smart move.
“I’m not ignoring you. You did send me on this rendezvous. It takes time to eat a meal, especially when you’re overwhelmed by the vision that sits opposite you, the way he moves, that alluring mouth of his, wishing each time that I was that piece of food being consumed. It was a hard, hard night, Jules.” Snickering uncontrollably now, I hear a gasp, then hysterical laughter as well. Seconds pass before she finds her composure and hearing myself talk like this is a unique development. It is a pleasurable one. There’s never been an occasion to speak like this to anyone before. Never…
“Was it hard and thick, Isla? That’s the ultimate.”
“You did not just ask me that?” I pretend to sound shocked.
“Yes, I did. I want to know every single microscopic detail of earlier this evening and I’m not vacating this phone until I do. You know, I will come around and use my key. I will extract this information the hard or the easy way, Isla. What’s it going to be? Your choice. It’s all up to you.” A purring Jules is never a good sign.
I am actually excited to be confiding in my friend about something remarkable instead of the standard catastrophe called ‘my life’ for the next two hours. The words fall out of my mouth at a fast rate, allowing Jules to comment when needed. Plastered across my face the entire time, and reliving tonight’s events with the Alex experience sends a grin from ear-to-ear. Happy, kind, gentle, and mutually satisfying aren’t words I would use to describe actions bestowed upon me by males. Yet, talking to Jules, these words have been spoken too many times to count.
“Do you think you will ever see him again?” Jules yawns.
“I have four days left, Jules,” I remind her and, sighing audibly, I press on, “If only things had been different, Jules, but they’re not…”
“You’re darn right. Four days to sort your life out, ready to live a fulfilled, extraordinary life that you deserve. It will transpire, Isla. Alex is the kind of real man you need to help you gain it. Keep an open mind. The opportunity will present itself and you’re going to grab on to it for dear life and never let it go. Right?”
Arguing with a ranting Jules never works. Allowing her words to wash over me, sinking in internally, I quietly ponder them. We don’t know what’s around the corner in life. So, maybe taking Jules advice, as if I actually have a choice, is the right course of action.
“Jules, thank you for sticking your nose into my business, setting me up for dinner with the hottest virile guy I have ever had the opportunity of laying eyes upon, and believe me, my girly parts have been pleasured to extraordinary new heights. But it’s late and tomorrow’s a big day.” Taking a longer than normal breath, I finally say, “You know I love you, don’t you?”
“Always. See you in the morning. I’m ready for our new client.” Jules then ends the call, blowing kisses into the phone. It’s her trademark.
Positioning the cell next to my empty wine glass, I make my way to the bathroom. A little sore in the nether regions, my bright eyes reflect back to me in the mirror. Yet, I’m still as confused as two hours ago. Brushing my hair as I return to my bed, my phone screen lights up.
Change is coming, Sweetness.
I hope you’re ready.
Dream of me. I will be dreaming of you.
A xx
Reading the message about fifty times doesn’t make me any less emotional. This man has careened into my life with an almighty bang, hurtling my thoughts and emotions into a whirlwind, spinning out of sync on an unknown path. Personally, my life is a hopeless mess. Do I dare to believe his beautiful words and marvel at all the ways my life could be with him?
Snuggling under the blankets, and holding my phone, I think about my new lifeline Mr. Alex…
Oh, that’s right! What’s his last name? Crap! That’s just trivial information, right?
My eyes roll back in my head with the images of mussed up blonde hair, hungry blue eyes, black-winged angel tattoo, and back seats of limos. Drifting on the verge of sleep, trying to keep these images in the forefront of my mind, I think about lying in bed with my mother when I was young. Her smile was infectious and the love that poured from her eyes to father’s couldn’t be denied by anyone. In any room, mum always had eyes only for him. Listening to mum this night talking about how they had met made me believe in fairytales. Love at first sight, he had swept her off her feet, never to touch the ground again at this stage of their lives. She had known he was the only one for her and right until the end she stayed by him despite all his failings. A full body shudder racks through me. The heat that blasts through us, the strokes that leave me clenching hard, his talented fingers, demanding words, and mesmerizing touch. Stripping me of every responsibility, turning me inside out. Can Alex possibly be my white knight?
Rolling onto my side, pulse fluttering faster, I tuck my knees up, thinking back to the stark contrast of my first male encounter. No choice given to me. He showed me what was expected of me. At eighteen with no sexual experience, being handled by a man nearly as old as my father was harrowing. Stiff, sobbing, and pain weaved its way through my body. Throwing up had been my instant reaction, earning me a few backhanders and the acute realization that I was going to need a lot of work on his end. Coaxed through private hands on preparation, watching porn, replicating this on his body so I wouldn’t embarrass him when I was given my first client, and threats to my family saw me within a few months ready to entertain a client.
Opposites in every respect. My darkness to his lightness. Inconsequential to powerful. Being owned by another to him being free. Obedience to his dominance. A whore. A sex god. Are there too many hurdles for us to jump or do opposites really attract? Internally battling these questions, my subconscious finally takes over my mind.
“What the ever-living hell is that?” Startled, and throwing my hands over my ears, ‘Fighter’ by Christian Aguilera pulsates through my sleepy head, effectively waking me from a deep slumber. Dead to the world may be a more accurate description of how heavy I was sleeping. Three nights of broken sleep will do that to a person. Setting my alarm for 6 AM seemed like a bright idea last night, but really, what had I been thinking? Oh yeah… that’s right. My imagination was somewhere else…
Lying back listening to the lyrics of the song is like she is singing them to me; she’s urging me to be a fighter.
Can I actually fight this torture forced upon me for the past ten years? Thoughts swirling around my head, allowing me to open my mind to hope, which is certainly a dangerous emotion for me to even be contemplating.
Having Christina’s words running through my head with Alex declaring change is coming, how can I possibly not? Determined and amazingly stronger than any other 6 AM on a Tuesday morning —Alex may just be worth taking the risk for, the risk of losing my freedom.
What freedom? I have no freedom now…
Snapping out of my daydream, it’s time to get ready for work. I would have to dwell on this newfound revelation later. There isn’t any time left with a new patron coming into our office in only a few hours from now. To frustrate me even more, there will be the dreaded rush hour traffic.
Choosing a professional suit of armor for today helps me alleviate some of the butterflies that gather deep in my stomach when talking with an influential client. Dressing in my grey knee length skirt, the jacket to match, and my best red blouse, before madly shoving a bagel down my throat with a glass of orange juice. Next, heating the straightener, I brush my teeth, apply minimal makeup, not forgetting about my favorite mascara with a smoky grey and white application of eye shadow to accentuate my assets. I love my long black hair, but on mornings like these, I would prefer for it to be a short bob that could be tamed with ease. Twenty minutes soon passes by. My hair loosely hangs down my back, with my red pumps on, accessorized with a red handbag. I’m ready. I can’t resist a pop of color to help me achieve a confident exterior.
Swinging my bag over my shoulder and ready for this day to begin, my intercom buzzes, which is strange as I haven’t ordered anything online for over two months now. Lifting the receiver, I ask “Yes, how can I help you?”
“I have a delivery for Miss Isla Winters”, a high-pitched male voice informs me.
“Okay, I’ll be there in a moment.” A light rap on my door announces that the delivery man is a bit impatient. I swing the door open and, as I do, an extraordinarily large bouquet of varying hues of purple roses are in front of my face, with hands wrapped around the base of it, but for the life of me, I can’t see the man. The flower arrangement is just too big. Handing them directly to me, I walk them into my kitchen and place them on my small table.
“I need your signature, ma’am.”
The synapses in my brain take a few seconds to register that the man is still in my apartment, holding a machine for me to sign. Stumbling over to him, I hastily scribble my name and latch the door behind him.
Smelling the sweet perfume of roses is heavenly. Inhaling their aroma, squeezing my eyes shut, praying they’re from the most favorite man in my life. Please don’t let them be from anyone else.
Doing a double pace walk back to the bouquet, because I am going to be late for the significant new customer…not… I find a small envelope. I tear it open, holding my breath because this could be a bad or a wonderful bouquet of roses.
There is a hand-written card.
Sweetness,
You enthrall me and enchant me!
Purple roses say it all,
infinite possibilities exist for you and me.
A xx
Well, bowl me over with a bowling ball!
My panties went from dry to dripping wet in the matter of time it took me to read this beautifully handwritten card. I can’t process that a man’s taken command of my life and swept me off my feet. This doesn’t happen to me. It can’t possibly occur to me, but it has and why would I be so stupid to ignore all the positive signs on this extravagant morning? Strangely, I feel the change happening already.