25

 

I closed the front door of my apartment block behind me and turned to face the street. My breath fogged in front of and then caught when I saw him.

Wearing a navy pea-coat and leaning against a car that looked like it cost more than my yearly tips and rent combined, was Elliot Gold.

He was freshly shaven and his wholesome all-American look made my stomach warm. His lips twitched at a smile. An expression of longing and smug conquest covered his face. It was a look reserved just for me. Roman nose. Intense place blue eyes and hair as black as night, his colouring was the opposite of mine.

Both quiet but in different ways. We fit together. How had I doubted him?

Guilt curdled my stomach and Elliot reached forward when he noticed my expression fall.

Elliot Gold reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Hey.”

“How was New York?”

“Cold.” He said gruffly.

I found myself smiling despite the self-hatred that licked at my insides and joined the guilt like an old friend.

“I thought we could drive up to Shreveport and do some Christmas shopping?” Elliot said, he wrapped his arms around me and I buried into his warmth. “I checked. It's your day off. Unless you needed to see your mother.”

I shook my head at his question. “I’d love to go.” I whispered.

Elliot led me to his car and opened the door for me before getting in on the driver’s side.

There was an emblem embedded in the leather seats and on the steering wheel. I recognised it, but I couldn’t place from where.

“What kind of car is this?” I asked.

“Jaguar.” Elliot said as we pulled out onto the road.

“That’s not the Jaguar logo.” I pointed to the emblem on the steering wheel.

“Don’t you recognise the Gold family crest?” He replied with a wry smile. “It’s on the clock tower over the church.”

I nodded in agreement but didn’t want to admit that I hadn’t gone to mass in years. Gilly Thompson wasn’t big on Jesus.

Speaking of Mama...

“I wasn’t a match. I can't donate part of my liver.” I said, the emotion in my voice was inscrutable. Even I didn’t know how I felt about that. Numb. Confused. Guilty.

“At least it takes the decision out of your hands.” Elliot said. “What does that mean for Gilly?”

“The doctor said that it meant she wasn’t my mother. Biologically.” I explained. My lip twisted and the mood in the car had darkened.

Elliot reached over the centre console and took my hand. He threaded his fingers with mine.

“Let’s just focus on having some fun today. Nothing can touch us. No one else exists.” Elliot rubbed his thumb across the palm of my hand.

“Agreed.” My answering smile was eager to heed his words.

 

 

“I'm not sitting on a Mall Santa's lap.” Elliot said as we stood in line for the grotto. I ignored him and pointed to a woman at the front of the line.

“Look!” I said in a low voice.

“Is that...?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“I heard that photos of your pets with Santa is a big thing now.” I explained.

“Did she have to match her outfit? Why is a miniature poodle wearing a pink sports jacket anyway?”

The line moved forward. “She’s painted their nails to match.” I whispered as we got closer.

“My mother would do this with Mr. Pringle.” Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose as if exasperated by the woman.

“Mr. Pringle?”

“Her favourite Pomeranian.” He explained.

“You should get her a voucher for a photo shoot for Christmas.” I suggested. “They could wear matching sweaters.”

Elliot shook his head. “You didn’t see the photos in the entrance hall, did you?”

“I wasn’t paying attention.” I admitted.

“Let’s just say, Marcella Gold loves themed photoshoots.” He shuddered.

We reached the front of the cue and a teenager dressed as an elf hooked the velvet rope in front of us.

“Are you going in together or separately?” The elf asked.

I smiled devilishly. “Santa’s got two knees.” I winked. “Together.”

Elliot opened his mouth to argue before he closed it and shook his head indulgently.

 

 

“You did not ask Santa for a Sybian for Christmas.” I slapped Elliot's chest as we walked to the food court.

Elliot shrugged. His expression stoic. “I have a guest room that needs decorating.”

“With sex furniture?” I bit back, unable to contain my laughter.

“I should ask how you know what a Sybian is, but I can guess.” Elliot drawled as he looked me up and down. “Do I need to check your internet history?”

“I still can’t believe you asked Santa that with a straight face.” I shook my head.

“What do you want to eat?” Elliot asked as we got to the food court.

“Mexican.” I replied, as my stomach growled in response. We got our food and took a seat in the corner.

I dug into my burrito with gusto. Elliot watched me with a curious expression.

“What?” I wiped my mouth with a napkin.

“Will you come to Mistletoe Day with me?” Elliot asked.

“What’s that?”

“It's a Christmas Fair that Mom holds at the Gold Manor. Carolling. Mulled wine. Christmas gifts.” Elliot explained. “Will you be my date?”

I felt my expression soften. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” He said.

“Sarah was at your house.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“She made it look like we slept together.” He said without emotion.

My mouth went dry. “I believed her.”

His silence was deafening.

“You should know. Before you ask me to be your date or whatever this is... For a second, I believed her. Even after all that you said. I was hurt when I found her in your house like that.”

“It’s hard to be rational when you’re angry.” Elliot lifted his can of coke and took a sip.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. “It’s really difficult for me. Sarah Mallory belongs in your world. I’m really happy for you, Elliot. You’re gonna be a daddy.” My smile was watery and sad.

“I don’t want to be.” Elliot’s voice held no emotion.

“But you are.” I said, adamantly. My shoulders squared. Regardless of if Elliot and I were in a relationship or not, Sarah Mallory was pregnant.

“That’s a fucking cop-out.” Elliot snarled. “I don’t remember being with her. I woke up naked in a hotel room whilst she bragged on the phone. To her husband.” He exhaled a breath and his voice took on manic energy as if he was uncertain about whether I would believe him or not. “She raped me.”

I didn’t understand the whys. The how’s. The what’s. All I knew was the brokenness in his voice. The defeat. The expectation that I wouldn't believe him.

Worse still was the powerlessness. I knew it well. I had lived it and breathed it.

He jumped in surprise when he felt my arms wrap around his body. I leant forward in my seat, cupped the back of his head and held his body to mine.

His entire body trembled and I stroked his hair.

“I believe you.” I whispered. I felt his tears as they saturated my shoulder.

“I believe you.” I repeated. “It’s not your fault.”

 

We had two bachelor parties booked, on a Wednesday night, which meant that the Pink Sleeve was busier than normal.

I was getting better at the pole, which came with practice. Scarlett and Bailey helped me and had taught me some moves. My tips for the stage performance were better than ever.

Missy came over and told me that I’d been booked for a private dance, which wasn’t unusual. Everything was stereotypically normal in the life of someone how took their clothes off for money.

I wore my favourite underwear set. It was a black bra in a see-through mesh decorated with lace flowers that covered my nipples. The thong bottoms were the same, but the lace flowers covered my lady bits. I slipped into the private room and clicked the door shut behind me. I turned around and nodded to the bouncer on the corner and then dropped my attention to the person who had booked my private dance.

Daniel Davis.

I did not want to dance for the bearded man. He made my skin turn to gooseflesh and I remembered how he'd taken my hand and placed it on top of his crotch and implied that I should pay him back sexually.

I glanced at the camera. Davis would be out in a second if I told Julian. But I knew the loan shark wouldn’t leave me alone.

“I paid you.” I said in a low and sure tone.

Blake, the bouncer's eyes widened and his attention snapped to the man in the chair.

Davis stood up, he put his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Now that’s not very nice. I wanted to ask you if you were okay. Your Mama’s in the hospital, right?” His eyes were round with mock innocence.

“She’s nothing to me. I don’t want to hear your concern.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Sure you won’t need help with medical bills?” Daniel Davis crooked a brow.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. “You don’t get it. That woman isn’t my mother. She's not related to me. And on paper? I don’t exist. I'm not liable for her bills. You have nothing over me anymore.”

I jutted my chin to the bouncer. “Blake, can you escort Mr Davis out to his car?”

Daniel put his hands up in a disarming gesture. “If you're sure.” He walked past me. I stepped to the side but not before I got a face full of the smell of cigarette smoke.

 

 

I waited by the back door for Blake to walk me to the line of taxis down the street. As we pushed open the door, I caught the familiar sight of Elliot. Bathed in the dim glow of the street lamp, with his hands in his pocket, his smile lit up his face once he saw me.

“Do you need a lift?” He asked.

Blake dipped his head. “You got her from here, Mr Gold?” He asked.

“Thank you, Blake.” I smiled softly as the teddy bear of a bouncer as he walked back inside.

“Did you want to come back to mine?” Elliot asked. “I promise to give you Chinese food and my claw-foot tub is big enough for two.”

I slumped in joy. “That sounds great actually.”

He slipped his arm over my shoulder we walked to the car. A small smile tilted at the corner of my lips. I was happy. Content.