CHAPTER SEVEN
Talen
Brandon’s grand plan for the weekend was yet another adventure into Vegas. At first, I was skeptical. It was the same thing we’d done countless nights before, and I wanted something new, something different. I wanted to get in the car and drive miles away. I wanted to forget about my father and his mandates. I wanted to push my negative emotions aside and focus on making myself happy. I didn’t think another weekend in Vegas was the answer, but I was wrong.
After a few hours inside the Palazzo, Brandon and I stumbled onto the Vegas Strip. We walked together, laughing and running into people randomly. Neither of us was blackout drunk yet, but we felt great. Nothing could tear us down. All thoughts of my father and his company had flown from my mind completely. The only thing I wanted to do was drink and party with my best friend. As we walked, Brandon yelled random things at strangers just to make me laugh. I laughed so hard that tears formed in my eyes.
The alcohol worked through my system. My body was flushed, and my instincts were dulled. Everything around me was clear, and I knew exactly where I was, but my thoughts were hazy and confused. One second, I laughed with Brandon, and the next, I was hitting on an attractive woman walking by, and after that, I dwelled on thoughts about my father’s ridiculous ultimatums. Despite my determination to forget him, he kept creeping back into my psyche.
“I’ve been thinking!” Brandon yelled while we continued down the strip.
“What?”
“About your dad,” he said, looking serious. He got close to my face so that I would hear him clearly over the noise of the crowd. “I think the reason he’s so hell-bent on controlling your life is because he can’t control his own.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, laughing. “My father controls the fucking world.”
“No,” Brandon said, shaking his head. “That’s the thing, he doesn’t. He just wants you to think he does so that he can control you.”
Brandon was drunk, but he made perfect sense. Maybe it was my own intoxication that fogged my senses, but I understood every word he said. He was totally right. My father was determined to wield his power over me because he actually felt powerless. It was a classic sign of insecurity, and I finally saw right through his façade. That night, on the strip with Brandon, I felt larger than life. Larger even than my father.
“I’m not going to play his game,” I said firmly.
“What?” Brandon yelled over the crowd surrounding us.
“I’m not going to play his game!” I yelled back. “I’m done! I’m done with him and his fucked up rules!”
“That’s right!” Brandon high-fived me. “You’re not getting married!”
“Hell, no, I’m not getting married,” I said with a laugh. “Of course, I’m not getting married. That’s insane.”
“Beyond insane!” Brandon agreed.
“It’s my life,” I said with a newfound confidence. “I don’t have to sit back and let him control me. I’m a grown man. He’s nothing more than a power-hungry psycho!”
“Yeah, screw him!” Brandon yelled.
“Exactly,” I said with a nod. “He wants me to get married? Fuck. That.”
Brandon laughed and pumped his fist in the air. I knew this had been his goal all along. When he suggested going out for the weekend, he just wanted me to find my own confidence again. He wanted me to shove my father’s orders back in his face. He wanted to remind me of the person I really was. I grinned and slapped him on the back. Right then, I’d never been more grateful for him. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my brother, and I loved him. Without Brandon, I never would have stopped wallowing in my own misery. I would have stayed in my apartment all weekend, whining to myself about how unfair it all was.
Just the thought made my stomach churn. My father had that effect on me. He made me feel weak, even though I was strong and confident in every other aspect of my life. I was Talen Fucking Gaston, and I knew exactly who I wanted to be. No one, not even my father, was going to take that away from me.
I wouldn’t let him beat me down into submission. He could lay down whatever laws he wanted, but I wouldn’t listen. He would never be able to control me. No matter what he said or did, I would not cave. He could cut me off. He could ban me from the company. I didn’t care anymore. I was ready to strike out on my own for good.
“You don’t need him,” Brandon said, shaking his head firmly.
“Damn right. I don’t need him or his damn rules.”
“Let’s go.” He grabbed my arm, pulling me to the side.
I looked around. “Where?”
“Here!” Brandon pulled me down a side street. I didn’t know where we were going, but I let Brandon take the lead. I was just drunk enough to trust him completely.
He led me a bit farther before he stopped in front of a strip club. He turned to stare at it head-on with a mischievous grin on his face. When he looked at me, he raised his eyebrows and laughed. I rolled my eyes but let him pull me inside anyway. Brandon loved strip clubs. He always had. I never saw the point in them. Watching women dance naked was only a turn on if I got to touch them while they did it. Strip clubs were just one giant exploration into the land of blue balls, and I hated it.
Still, I was up for anything tonight. I let Brandon pull me inside, and I even broke a twenty at the bar. Brandon and I got a few drinks before we found a table right up front. Three women were dancing on the main stage, wrapping themselves seductively around poles. I watched the one closest to me while she moved. Her black hair looked like a wig, but I didn’t care. It was short and sexy. She was already topless, and I watched her breasts bounce to the beat of a trashy rock song. I licked my lips and stood up slowly. Walking over to her, I slid a one-dollar bill in her G-string. She winked at me and shook her tits in my face. When she retreated, I went to sit back down.
“God.” I adjusted my pants. “Strip clubs still suck.”
Brandon looked at me like I was crazy. “What? This is amazing, man.”
I lifted my empty hands. “We can’t touch them. What’s the point?”
He winked. “You can touch them if you pay enough.”
I rolled my eyes. Even half lit, I wasn’t into that. It was basically prostitution and not my thing. Brandon would take anything he could get, even if he had to pay for it, but not me. My standards weren’t always that high, but they were always too high to indulge in hookers. It just wasn’t me.
Still, I sat back and enjoyed the show. Brandon and I threw money at the women while they entertained us. We watched while each woman made the rounds to the main stage. The music was lively and upbeat. In my drunken haze, I felt it in every single bone. My entire body vibrated with energy and excitement. Brandon had been right; this kind of night was exactly what I needed. After just a few hours away from my apartment, I already felt better about everything. I knew I could handle anything my father threw my way.
“You were right,” I said to Brandon. “This is exactly what I needed, man. Thanks for bringing me out.”
“It’s my job.” Brandon shrugged. “Besides, there is no problem that can’t be solved by a few drinks and hot women.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I said, holding up my glass. Brandon clinked his own against it, and I took a long sip. I finished the glass and tapped it on the table. Brandon patted my back and pointed to a new stripper on the main stage.
My gaze traveled over her body in appreciation. For the first time that night, I wondered if it ever bothered these women to be stared at. Horny men traipsed in and out of the club nonstop and spent entire nights just watching them. Lusting. Jacking off later to their memory. I couldn’t imagine stripping would be an enjoyable profession. I wondered if any of the strippers I watched on the stage wished I wouldn’t. If they looked at me while I gaped at their bare breasts and silently hated me for it.
Just thinking about the possibility made me turn my head away. I looked at Brandon and then at the other patrons, my eyes traveling over each person in the club, never landing on one person for too long.
Until her.
Sitting alone on a barstool, I could barely see her face from my seat, but I could make out most of her profile. Her long auburn hair hung loosely over her shoulders in soft, natural waves. I was instantly captivated by the sight of her. From what I could see, her face was delicate. She looked young, but not naïve. There was something about the set of her shoulders that told me she’d been through a lot. She looked hardened but also exceedingly kind.
I watched her for a few minutes, careful to look away when she glanced in my direction. I was certain she hadn’t seen me yet, but I wanted her to. As I watched, I became more intrigued by her. When she tucked her long hair behind her ears, I found myself wanting to do it for her. She leaned forward, smiling at the bartender, and my stomach did a flip. I could only see half of her face, but her smile was gorgeous. In that moment, I knew I had to talk to her. Whatever else happened that night, I couldn’t leave the club without discovering her name.
“Hey,” I said to Brandon. “I’ll be right back.”
Brandon waved me away without a word. He was too busy ogling the strippers to care about my whereabouts. I chuckled to myself and stood up slowly. I was drunk, too drunk, but I could still walk and think straight. I’d successfully picked up women when I was drunker than this, so I felt immensely confident as I walked her way. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I approached. This was something I always did. It made me seem nonthreatening.
I walked up behind her and thought about lightly touching her shoulder, but as I reached out my hand, someone shoved between us. My arm was knocked away, and I stumbled slightly. I cursed under my breath, but when I looked back at my prize, her back was still to me. She didn’t seem to have noticed anything going on behind her. I took a deep breath and decided it would be better to sit down beside her. Silently, I slid onto the barstool to her left and put my arms on the bar. She glanced in my direction but didn’t speak.
I let the silence linger in the air between us for a few minutes. I ordered a drink and sipped on it slowly, not even looking in her direction. Her eyes were on me, though. I could feel them. I wanted her to become curious about me before I spoke. She was my goal for the evening, and I knew exactly how to succeed.
Finally, I turned to face her. My eyes locked on hers, and I was taken aback by how green they were. I blinked and smiled, genuinely pleased.
“Hi. I’m Talen.”