Chapter Nine – Lindsey
I couldn’t even face my own damn apartment.
As soon as we came back from Canada I went to a hotel. Samantha was welcomed to stay even though she bugged the shit out of me sometimes.
But for some reason, she insisted that she was okay and left me by myself.
Did she forget that I told her the man asked me to marry him?
I was fucking heart broken.
Oh well, that was Samantha. I was at least grateful she told me.
I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. There was nothing about Gordon that would’ve signaled anything about him being an abusive man. I looked for the signs, and I didn’t find them.
But I remember when Samantha came to my condo with a black eye. She never said his name…until now.
This was for the better. Look at me. I went and fucked up. I did the very thing I vowed never to do; get a broken heart.
I played with the fire and hell, I got burnt. The aching in my chest wouldn’t go away. So, I propped myself off of the bed and slipped on my regular wear around dress. I had to go to work anyways.
Bar Seven. I thought I was going to leave this place behind. Oh well. Being an independent woman with a nice body still had its perks. I wasn’t broke, and things were still salvageable.
Ed let me in early and I made my way to the bar.
“Hey, back so soon?” Lemmy, one of the newest bartenders asked me.
“Yeah. You know us girls. We make mistakes and come crawling back home,” I sighed. “Shot of whiskey while you’re at it.”
He frowned. “Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good at all. Are you sure you want to drink before—”
“Lemmy, spare me the speech. Whisky. Now. Please, before I go crazy.”
He sighed and whipped up my drink in a flash. For once I was thankful to be back in darker settings. The lights were dim, and the smell of alcohol soothed my mind.
I downed my drink, savoring that sting that burned the back of my throat.
“God that was good.”
“Drinking your problems away, huh? What happened to good ole girl gossip?” said a familiar voice from behind me.
I turned around and saw Willow and Stacy.
My mouth dropped. “Stacy, you’re supposed to be on a honeymoon, what gives?”
“You, silly!” she pouted. She rubbed her slight baby bump and sat down on one side while Willow sat on the other side of me at the bar.
“We heard you and Gordon up and disappeared. We’ve been trying to contact you. We were worried,” Willow said.
“Sorry you two. I just…found out something about Gordon…”
“What was it?” Stacy asked, rubbing my back.
“He was the man Samantha dated last year. She got a black eye because of him.”
Willow and Stacy gasped. “Him? That sounds…wow. Shit.”
“Yeah, shit is more like it.”
Willow rubbed her forehead. “I’m gonna need a drink too. None for you, pregnant lady,” she said to Stacy. Stacy stuck her tongue out and we all laughed.
“Plus,” I added in, “the smell is gonna get to you. So, you two make it quick so you can get to safer grounds.”
Willow ordered a glass of champagne and Stacy took water and lemon.
“So, do you believe her?” Stacy asked. “Your sister?”
Damn. They had to ask that question.
Because a part of me didn’t. But then, it still kinda added up. She had a black eye. She was dating a rich guy, from what she said.
I didn’t know if the part of me that didn’t believe her was because I had feelings for Gordon or if it was because I didn’t trust my sister.
She was a pest. But could she really go that far?
“Lindsey?” Stacy poked my shoulder.
“Oh, well. I don’t even know. You two are gonna make my head hurt with these questions.” I slumped over with my elbows on the bar counter.
Urgh.
“Sorry, Lindsey. We just want to make sure you know the full truth before you walk away from something so big.”
“Big like marriage?” I asked, frowning.
“Yes. That. You two looked so—”
I got off the bar stool and scratched my head. “You two are the best. But I got to go and start warming up.”
I planted a kiss on Stacy’s head and gave Willow a hug.
“Stacy, keep that baby safe, and Willow, make sure you relax.”
I sashayed off to the back where my stripper clothes were waiting. I did a couple of stretches along with the rest of the dancers and picked the track I wanted to dance to.
Did I trust Stacy? Or Gordon?
Fuck. Why did that question have to slap me in the damn face?
***
The night was over faster than it began. I changed back into my regular clothes and headed out the back door. I didn’t feel like bumping into any ‘fans’. That never ended well.
“Lindsey!” a voice called out.
I turned around and saw a familiar looking man standing in the alley, coming out of the darkness.
“Whoa, I got mace and pepper spray, and let me tell you neither feels or tastes good,” I warned, backing up and digging in my purse.
Suddenly I could see his face.
“Hey wait, aren’t you Gordon’s friend?”
“Yes, I’m Richard, and I came to talk to you.”
We walked to the main street where there were more lights.
“How’d you find me?” I asked.
“I can find anyone,” he bragged, smiling.
“Okay, get to the point. What do you want? And if you can find people so easily, why isn’t Gordon here?”
I crossed my arms and glared at Richard.
“Listen. He’s waiting for you at your apartment. The man won’t move. He’s in love, and he’s not a wife beater.”
“How would you know?” Richard’s face tensed.
“Because, I have been his best friend since we were both young boys. I know him. And he needs you.”
I kept walking at a brisker pace. “Needs me for his money you mean.”
“So, he told you about that too?”
“Yeah.”
“So, he was being upfront with you?”
I stopped and snapped around. “Look, my sister had a black eye—”
“Your sister is a gold digging liar. And I can prove it.”
It began to rain, and all the confidence I had in Samantha began to break even more. Proof?
Why would she lie?
“Gold digger?”
Cars passed us on the road, making it feel colder than it was. Maybe that little voice in the back of my head was right. But I wasn’t going to stick to any side until I saw this proof.
“Where is this proof?”
Richard glanced down at his smart watch on his wrist.
“Go to Eliza Rousseau’s place. Ask her about your sister.”
I shook my head. “No, she would’ve told me as soon as she fucked up with someone.”
“Yeah, if she used your last name. She signed up as Samantha Price, not Wilson. And she didn’t list you as a relative on the application.”
My mouth dropped. That sounded like something she’d do. And we didn’t really share similar looks or features since we had two wildly different styles…I never even talked about Samantha around Eliza.
“I have to go. Search for the truth. Don’t let it scare you.”
Richard got into a car that was parked and sped off.
He had a point. I had a right to know the truth, no matter how bad it might seem.
***
There was another mixer going on full of young pretty girls ready to make a buck, and millionaires and billionaires looking for a quick fuck. I would’ve been here for one. But I had to find out some things before I was back out on the market as a single girl again…
Here’s hoping that I wouldn’t…
“Eliza,” I called out, waving her down from the middle of the floor. She was talking to some men and her eyes lit up when she saw me. She came sashaying down the small steps that were lit up with tiny star like lights. She held her arms out and squeezed me in a tight hug.
“Darling, you’re back. How’d that wedding party go? Did Gordon treat you nicely?”
I sighed. “Eliza. We need to sit down and talk. Bring some vodka or something, because I think you’re gonna have to tell me something I really am not prepared to hear.”
Eliza’s face went pale. “What do you mean? Did something happen?”
She pulled me to the side and we went into a private room that had a mini bar.
She closed the door and went over to pull out some drinks.
“Tell me, what’s going on?”
We sat down on a black velvet couch and I inhaled and exhaled.
‘Breathe, Lindsey,’ I coached myself.
“Do you remember anyone named Samantha Price?”
Eliza’s shoulders sunk. “Her? Did she come back around?!”
“She’s my sister. And her name isn’t Samantha Price, but Samantha Wilson.”
Eliza placed her hand over her mouth as she sat back further into the couch.
“Good God. That was your sister? Why didn’t you ever tell me you had one?”
I threw my head back and closed my eyes. “I didn’t think she was much worth mentioning. She’s a spoiled brat, you know? But I don’t want to see her harmed, as selfish as she is sometimes. Tell me. Is it true?” I looked back at Eliza. “Did Gordon give her that black eye?”
Eliza got up and looked out the window. “No, Gordon didn’t give her that black eye. It was a female client she was going out with that gave her that black eye.”
“I see. Why would she lie about Gordon then?”
“Because she went out with him, and he found out she was nothing but a gold digger and got rid of her. She has that pattern. That’s why she’s not allowed here ever again.”
I downed the rest of my drink and took out my phone. She was going to get a fucking earful out of me.
“How dare she. Now I know what happened. She didn’t want to see anyone with her meal ticket. So, she lied to me to make me leave.”
Eliza nodded her head remorsefully and offered me another drink.
“I hate when I get clients like her. Lucky for you there’s no real resemblance.”
I turned down the drink and dialed her number. “I’m good Eliza. I’ll have to scrape up some sobriety and get this shit handled, and tonight.”
The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer.
I looked in my contacts and there was a second number for her. She was always changing her phone number, kind of like me. I guess that was the only thing we shared in common.
I called the other number, and the old disconnect message played.
‘If you want to find another business similar to this one—’
I hung up and massaged my temples.
“She’s not answering?” Eliza asked me.
“No. She might be stupid, but she’s also smart as hell too. She just uses it for all the wrong fucking things.”
I jumped to my feet. Sitting here wasn’t going to help anything.
“Eliza, thank you. And I’m sorry she did all that shit under your business’s name. She’ll get what’s coming to her.”
“I know. You just go and be happy. Get your man,” Eliza encouraged, shining an elegant smile.
“You need to get one too Ms. Matchmaker.” I winked and disappeared through the door.
***
Hopping off the bus, I jogged up the stairs and opened the door. The strangest thing happened. The scent of Gordon wafted by my nose and I looked around. What was that?
Then the emotions flooded in. I felt the gravity of how much I missed him. How much my eyes needed to see him, how much my ears needed to hear him and how much my skin needed to feel him.
I went up the stairs, but the closer I got to my floor, the better I heard a familiar voice.
“Samantha, no. You need to stay away. Lindsey’s going to find out the truth.”
I stuck my ear closer to the edge of the door that led to the hallway from the stairs. That was Gordon’s voice.
“Oh, come on. You know you liked the way I spent your money. Plus, she’s nothing but a classless whore. She doesn’t deserve you.”
Wow, what a way to stab your sister through the heart. I knew we weren’t the closest. But damn. A classless whore? Shit.