Chapter 4
“Haven’t seen you in here before,” a rather swarthy looking guy commented as Ashley approached the bar at a nearby club.
“I suspect that would be true for a lot of women in here,” she said, giving him a quick look up and down.
She immediately pegged him for a stock market broker, cocky and narcissistic to the core. It was a fairly casual club for New York and he was wearing an expensive Italian suit that had been perfectly tailored to fit his frame. He was no more than two inches taller than her, so maybe five eight, at best. This wasn’t her first trip to New York and you’d find men like him all over the city. Despite having what they would probably deem Wall Street price tags, they were really a dime a dozen here.
“How about we find a table and I buy you a few drinks, so we can get to know one another better?”
“I can buy my own drinks,” she replied, ordering a glass of merlot from the bartender as he approached.
“That’s a real turn on, a girl that has her own money.”
“Don’t most women have their own money?”
“You’d be surprised by some of the sluts that roll up in this town just looking for a successful guy like myself to bankroll their much needed boob job.”
“I don’t need a boob job,” Ashley replied, wishing her wine would arrive so she could get away from this loser soon.
“I’ll say you don’t,” he replied, looking her up and down. “You are put together in all the right places. A girl like you, self-sufficient and sexy as fuck? Damn perfection. I bet you are a real wildcat in bed,” he told her.
“There you go,” the bartender said, sitting her wine down in front of her.
Ashley dropped some money on the bar and picked it up to walk away. That’s when the guy grabbed her ass. It was almost involuntary as she whirled around and threw the liquid in her glass in his face. It splashed down across his crisp white shirt and pricey suit. He jumped back as if she had thrown acid on him.
“You bitch! Do you know how much this suit cost me . . . and this shirt? Fuck! You’ve fucking ruined it,” he growled, taking a step toward her.
Ashley stood her ground, facing him down. Men like him, who thought they could just do what they want to women, without consequence, made her sick. There was no way he would hit her, not in a crowd of people. Men like him were cowards. He wanted her to feel afraid of him, but he wouldn’t cross a line that might result in any real trouble for himself.
“Do you have any idea who I am?” she asked him, noting how he suddenly looked a little more concerned with the possibility that he might have offended someone important, someone that might be able to do harm to his precious career.
“No,” he said through gritted teeth. “Who are you?”
“Is there a problem here?” a big, burly guy interjected.
Ashley glanced in his direction. He wore a simple black suit that might have fit him properly at one point but was now struggling to contain the rather large belly that had grown into it. There were no visible signs of a neck and his hands looked blotchy with fat sausage-like fingers. He was obviously a bouncer from the door.
“No. Just a spilled drink,” the other guy said, sounding uncertain now.
It was funny how belligerent and angry he had been until he thought she might be somebody. Now, he wasn’t so sure that he wanted to add insult to injury by pursuing the matter further. His situation was only further complicated by the presence of a much larger man who might embarrass him by kicking him out or, even worse, giving him the much deserved ass-kicking he had earned.
“I see. Well, you might want to get home and soak that in some soda water or something. I hear it works wonders on red wine stains if you get it on there quick enough,” the bouncer told him.
It was phrased as a helpful suggestion, but his body language and tone said otherwise. She watched as the dickhead made a hasty exit without another word. The burly guy followed him out as a waitress turned from the bar and handed her another glass of wine.
“This is on me for getting rid of that creep,” the young girl told her before heading off with the tray of drinks balanced on her other hand.
“Thanks,” Ashley called after her, walking to one side of the club where she saw an open seat.
After her initial encounter with the offensive dude by the bar, she decided to just kick back and relax. She had thought this might be a night to be out in a strange place and let her hair down, perhaps even meet someone hot and get laid. It had been a while and if she went through with this surrogacy thing, it might be quite a while longer.
Now, after having such a shitty experience right off the bat, she decided that maybe just being celibate for a while might not be a bad thing. It would give her a chance to get her head together. She sat sipping her wine, considering the possibilities. The facts were that she was unemployed and in serious debt. She could probably find another crappy job at another art gallery or teach more classes like she had been doing when she and Dennis had first met. It would mean she had to continue to juggle debts and expenses until she crawled out of this hole.
Or, she could sign this contract to have a baby for a stranger. It sounded a bit out there as a way to get out of debt, but really, how could she beat it? Giving up less than a year of her life in exchange for enough money to live a bit easier. She could buy her own house rather than renting a cheap one-bedroom apartment outside the city and put an end to the endless debt collectors. All she had to do was have a baby, something most women did for free.
“Hey, gorgeous,” a rather attractive blonde guy said, slithering up beside her with an honestly, quite alluring smile.
“No,” she replied, standing up, tossing back the last of her wine and walking out of the club. Making her way down the street, she ducked into an Irish pub and had a few beers with a bunch of old men talking about bunions and bowel movements before returning to her hotel for a good night’s sleep.
“So much for a hot night on the town,” she told her reflection in the mirror with a laugh, before brushing her teeth and climbing into her bed for a good night’s sleep.