15

 

“Sexy Pilgrims?” I asked as Scarlett held up the costume. It was the day before Thanksgiving and the girls were helping me cope with my first holiday alone.

Scarlett held up the lingerie that was made entirely of buckles and straps.

“Boss says Happy Thanksgiving.” She jingled the costume.

“Where is Julian?” I took it in my hands and rubbed the leather straps.

“He said the Golds have a family dinner thing at the Manor. It’s this whole big affair.” Julian's mistress tried to sound unaffected, but I saw through her.

“Oh.” I grunted.

“You are so obvious girl.”

“What?” I laughed.

“Your special client won’t be here tonight. Every Thursday night? Buys all your dances?” Scarlett said knowingly. “Surname rhymes with 'Bold'?”

I cleared my throat awkwardly. “You’re nosy.” I said defensively as I clutched the offensive item to my chest.

Scarlett tapped her nose. “Bonus of doing the boss.” Her eyes widened when she realised what had slipped out of her lips. “Shit! I shouldn’t have said that!”

I laughed at her panic. “Why?”

“You’re bff's with Rina Langley, future Mrs. Julian, right?”

I waved my hand dismissively. “Rina knows all about Julian's flings. Don’t worry.”

“Flings?” Scarlett looked stricken.

I cleared my throat and pointed towards the door. I bit back my comments. I wanted to say something along the lines of: You're fucking an engaged guy. Don't think you're exclusive. Guys only want one thing, and that’s to dip their cock in anything warm.

But I liked Scarlett. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

Missy, the bartender, tapped her knuckles against the doorway to the dressing room. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked tired.

“You covering for Julian tonight, Missy?” I asked when she took out her clipboard.

“You, Pepper. Room three. You're booked all evening.”

I shrugged and tugged off my towelled robe so that I could wriggle into my pilgrim outfit.

“He requested the white lingerie and the robe.” Missy informed me before walking away in a flurry of clicking high heels.

I turned to Scarlett, whose eyebrow was raised in confusion.

“Different strokes for different folks.” I said with a shrug.

Private dances were easy, and earned about a hundred dollars a go. The chance of being touched as higher and the contact was closer, but I didn’t care. I could switch off my mind and dance. The bouncers were always around, keeping us safe.

Still, the highlight of my week was Thursday night. It was the busiest night at the Pink Sleeve. I guessed because Friday was date night for the married ones.

Elliot booked out my Thursdays. I didn’t even want to think about how much he paid for my time. I suspected that being the owner's big brother helped.

I was five nights away from paying off Daniel Davis. If I could pull in a grand a night. I was so close to freedom that I could taste it. I'd paid my utilities and rent for the month. I could focus on clearing my debt and quick.

I pushed open the door to the private lounge.

“Elliot!” I cried, happiness leaked through my voice. Betraying my excitement.

“Hey, Pepperberry.” He leant against the wall with his hands in his pocket. A white garment bag was spread across the chair were the chair where he usually sat.

“What's going on, Elliot?”

He gave me one of his rare smiles, but it was sheepish. “I brought you a gift.” His ice-cold eyes sparkled.

I walked over to the garment bag and unzipped it. Inside was a slinky emerald green dress. I caught a glimpse of the label. Looky-Lu’s.

“Elliot, I can’t.”

“It’s a gift from a client.” He said.

“I thought you had a family gathering tonight.” I whispered, absently, as I ran the material over my fingers. “You didn’t cancel just for me, did you?”

Elliot chuckled. “I’m heading off after this.”

“Oh.” I tried not to let my disappointment colour my tone.

“That is, if you'll come with me.” He moved with the grace of a man that wasn’t used to being told no. My lip twisted in confusion.

“I've bought your time for the evening. Julian knows. Please.” He whispered.

Despite my fears, I found myself saying yes.

 

 

We drove to the Gold Manor in silence after pulling on the dress that Elliot chose for me and joining him in his silver Porsche

Sat in his car, parked on the gravel crescent at the front of the mansion, Elliot reached over and took my hand. He rubbed circles on the side of my palm with his hand.

“You said we could only be friends.” I said weakly.

“You’re here as my friend.”

Both of us knew that wasn’t strictly true.

“Elliot...” I said softly, as he clasped my hand softly. Friends didn’t pay to watch another take off their clothing. Every Thursday in silence. “When we first met. Back at Judy's diner. You said some stuff about me.”

I saw his Adam's apple bob. “I remember, Pepperberry.’” He whispered.

“Did you mean it?”

He clasped my hand to his chest. His eyes burned into mine, so fervently that I wanted to flinch.

He gripped the back of my neck, and tugged my lips to his.

My veins burned. My core ached. My hand tightened in his. Sparks crackled behind my eyelids.

It wasn’t meant to feel like that; so consuming that no other man could put out the fire inside of me.

“Never.”

Someone tapped on the window and I looked past Elliot's shoulder to see Julian Gold’s wide and unrelenting smirk. My Gold swore under his breath, his intense expression melted into one of ire.

Elliot stepped out of the car. I had managed to open the door and lift my butt from the bucket seats before he had come around to my side to help me out.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight, Harry.” Julian said with a barely concealed smugness.

My mouth gaped. “Elliot, you said—”

Julian waved his hand dismissively. “It’s okay, love. Don’t worry. Rina will be so happy to know you’re here.”

I nodded but chewed my lip anxiously none the less.

“Mother cornered her when we came in; she wanted to talk to my fiancée about floral arrangements.” Julian winced. “I excused myself and told them I needed a smoking break.”

“You don't smoke.” Elliot frowned.

“The stress of peonies versus roses has driven me to it. In theory. Not in reality.” Julian joked. He turned his eyes to me and appraised my dress. His action was clinical, like someone would admire a mannequin in a department store. Julian nodded his approval before his eyes flicked to Elliot.

“You guys ready to go in?” I asked.

“Elliot.” Julian said in a low warning. “The Mallorys are here.”

Fuck. My stomach sunk. I tried not to let my hurt should over my face. Elliot's face paled and he looked at me for a second before smoothing his expression. I had known that Sarah and Elliot had been involved at one point. I could only assume that it had ended.

I could almost read his thoughts. He wished he hadn’t brought me. He didn’t want to tote a stripper around in front of other rich folks.

Walter Mallory had been into the Pink Sleeve back rooms before. I'd never danced for him, but I’d served him drinks.

“Do you want me to go?” I leaned in and whispered.

Elliot's brow creased as if I had insulted him. “Fuck no. I just don’t want to deal with Sarah.”

“I can handle Sarah Mallory.” I said.

His eyes dragged from my heeled toes and back to my brown eyes. “I don’t doubt that.” He led us both inside without another word.

 

 

Meeting Marcella Gold had been an experience.

White haired, with dark brown eyes and olive skin; she looked faintly Hispanic.

She had the energy of a thousand suns as she led us to the dining room where the Mallory’s and the Langley’s were already sat. She somehow managed to fit an entire conversation into the short walk from the front door to the dining room.

“What is that?” I whispered in disbelief as I took in a strange turkey Pilgrim that looked like it was puking candy corn in the centre of the table.

“Centre piece.” Elliot shrugged.

All eyes followed our journey to the place settings on the other side of the room, at the end of the extremely long dining table. The back of my neck burned. I looked up and saw that Sarah Mallory was staring at us both with narrowed eyes.

“Pepper, is it?” She asked in a scathing tone.

I cleared my throat. “Harriet.” I corrected her. “Harriet Thompson.”

Sarah snorted and reached over to take a sip of her white wine. “Right.” Her laughter was bitter and scathing.

Her father, Walter Mallory was engaged in conversation with who I could only assume was Elliot’s father. Walter didn’t even acknowledge his daughter’s raucous and mocking laughter.

The rest of the table was silent; Elliot’s mother took a seat next to me. “You’re Darrel Thompson’s daughter?” She took my hand, without my permission and held it tenderly.

I nodded, but said nothing.

“It was such a shame what happened to him. He was such a good man.”

I nodded, but Elliot saved me. “Mother, you’re embarrassing her.” He chided.

Marcella Gold let go of my hand. “And how’s your mother?”

I did not want to answer the question, but I opened my mouth to do so. I heard the scrape of a chair against the marble floor and click of high heels. Her perfume swathed me first, expensive but liberally applied. My nostrils burned and my eyes watered. I found myself coughing as Sarah walked over to join us. She was dressed in white, in a skin-tight dress that came up to mid-thigh. She looked like she had gained a bit of weight since I had seen her last, and a small part of me felt vindicated at that.

“Yes, Harriet.” Sarah sneered. “Why don’t you tell us all about how Gilly Thompson is doing?” She put her hand on Elliot’s shoulder and I fought against the urge to remove it forcefully.

My cheeks flushed with shame and I felt so foolish. I wished that I hadn’t have come. “She’s fine.” I murmured.

Sarah took a sip of her white wine, but I saw her smug smile over the rim of her glass.

Marcella looked between us, before excusing herself to speak to the servers. I didn’t blame her; I would have escaped too if I could think of an excuse.

“I don’t really see my mother anymore.” I admitted.

I chanced a look at Elliot, who had been silence since we had sat down. Sarah’s appearance had made him shrink in on himself. Something bubbled under the surface. It was like anger, but more. It didn’t look like he was fearful of an ex and a current fling meeting. There was something else happening but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

My stomach was in knots. I didn’t know if I would be able to eat anything once the food came out. I felt so out of my depth that I wanted to melt into a puddle and disappear between the tiles.

I thought back to the conversation I had with Scarlett at the club. I was a stripper. Good for dancing and looking good. Showing off when it didn’t matter who saw. I had no idea why Elliot had pushed me into the deep end by inviting me to his parents home.

“Elliot, have you given any thought to what we talked about last?” Sarah said as she stood over him. Her long red nails twisted a lock of his raven hair. The intimacy and familiarity told me that I didn’t know Elliot Gold at all. I wasn’t part of his world.

“I’d rather not do this here.” Elliot growled.

Sarah shrugged and walked away to speak to Rina and Julian, both of whom seemed to be in an whispered argument.

“I don’t think I should be here.” I admitted to Elliot.

“I want you here.” He replied.

Soon after, once everyone had taken their seats, the catering staff served the appetizers and I stared down at an unknown pink foam, that smelt faintly of salmon. I lifted my fork to dig in when a tinkling sound rang out and all chatter stopped.

Sarah Mallory stood up, holding her wine glass in her hand. “I’d like to make a toast if that’s okay.” She smiled at Marcella. I caught a heavy look of disdain on Elliot’s mother's face. I wasn’t sure if Sarah was well liked in the Goldryn Elite circles.

Mr. Mallory smiled indulgently at his daughter.

“I’m thankful for so many things.” Her laughter tinkled as she addressed everyone in the room. “My father. My upcoming divorce and the unification of the Gold and the Mallory families.”

I shot a look at Elliot out of the corner of my eye, the knuckles on his champagne flute had turned white as his grip turned punishing. I had no idea what she was talking about but the news of Sarah’s upcoming divorce from Hank Kellerman was not well-known. I looked at Rina and saw her parted lips, she hadn’t been aware either.

Walter Mallory stood up and placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “To Elliot and Sarah. Congratulations! I can’t wait to be a grandfather.” He patted his daughter's flat stomach once.

Sarah looked right at me. Her gaze did not waver as she watched the news sink into my brain. She placed her hand on her belly and rubbed it. The grandfather comment hadn’t been random. She was pregnant.

And it was Elliot’s.

I did the cowardly thing. I raised my glass to the toast and plastered a smile on my face despite how stupid I felt.