Selling Satisfaction (20 page)

"Thank you," I tell him. "You look quite handsome yourself." Regardless to my feelings for Everett, I have to push everything aside and do what I came here to do. I'm being paid to make Winston feel like he's the only man in my life. I've been doing it for over three years with countless men, I can do it tonight, too.

He takes my hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. He opens the back door for me, and I climb into the vehicle. Closing the door, he walks around and positions himself into the other backseat. The driver glances at us through his rear view before shifting the transmission into drive.

Winston asks how my life has been, I keep it short and simple, letting him know things are fine. I question him as well, but he keeps it just as brief. The banquet hall is a twenty five minute drive out of town. The driver drops us at the curb in front of the entrance, where a red carpet is lined along the sidewalk for the fifty foot walk inside.

My arm links with Winston's elbow once we're through the door. There has to be over a hundred people here already, and it doesn't start for another fifteen minutes. We find our seats at one of the round tables, covered in white cloth. There is a bouquet with an array of gorgeous flowers all in different shades of purple in the center, with goodie bags in front of each chair. Winston pulls my chair out, and once I sit, he glides it forward for me.

Taking the seat next to me, he snaps his fingers over to a man in a penguin tux. He comes over with a tray of champagne, giving us each a glass before walking to another table. There are only three others at our table so far.

"Thompson, Mohegan, nice to see you two again. How have things been going?" He asks the ones to his right. The other person remaining at the table is a younger male, probably not even fifteen. He stares at me. When I give him a kind smile, his eyes shift towards my chest before quickly looking away at anyone except me.

Winston and his two friends chat amongst themselves. I decide to look into my goodie bag, as I've seen others from different tables do. Placing it on my lap, I reach in to find a magazine on health, a purple ribbon that can be pinned to your clothing, a soy candle, a package of cinnamon, and an organic coconut chocolate bar. Once it's all placed on the table in front of me, I decide to put everything back in except the purple ribbon, then I fold the bag up to place into my purse.

A moment later, Winston reaches into his bag to remove his ribbon as well, then puts the bag in front of me. He whispers, "I don't need any of it, you keep it."

I thank him quietly, placing that in my purse too. I won't refuse any of it. I'm actually a little excited about it. I have no idea what any of it is for, and if it's linked to Alzheimer’s, but I assume it must.

Someone takes the stage at the front of the room, the same time all the lights dim above us. The entire room goes silent as we listen to the man tap on the microphone. He introduces himself as Doctor Arnold Ackermann, then he does a thank you speech for everyone involved in today's organization, as well as what he has been doing to make a difference in the world of Alzheimer’s.

The rest of the evening goes on with similar stories and presentations, while the waiters walk around to serve us dinner and drinks. At the end, the last person to take the stage is a lady named Valentina, dressed in an oversized fur coat. She stands before us to discuss her husband's recent diagnoses and the pain it's caused them, as well as the financial trouble that is starting to take a toll on them. She mentions how her fur coat is the last remaining thing to hold onto when her life seems to be shredding to bits. He bought it for her on their one year wedding anniversary almost forty years ago. Before she's done speaking, I find myself crying in pain for her, silent tears running down my face. I try to wipe them as they fall, hoping I don't mess my makeup. I don't want to embarrass myself nor Winston.

He reaches over to place his hand on my leg, giving it a squeeze for comfort. It does nothing to soothe me.

When all the speeches are finished and the lights turn back on, many people walk over to an area where donations are accepted either for this lady and her husband, or for the Alzheimer’s association in general.

"Will you excuse me?" I ask Winston.

He gives me a questioning look. "Is everything alright?"

Picking up my purse, I give him a curt nod. "Yes, I need to use the powder room, then I'd like to make a donation."

"I'll escort you." He stands with me, and we make our way towards the rest rooms.

When I arrive at the donation table, Valentina is standing nearby, shaking hands with others, thanking them for their generosity and for making it tonight. I walk towards her, and when she has a moment, I sneak in. "That was a beautiful speech," I mention.

"Thank you," she replies with a kind smile. "It's an unfortunate reason to be here, but I feel so blessed being surrounded by everyone." She glances around. I can tell she is sincere in what she says.

"I won't pretend to understand, because I don't have a clue what you're going through, but I'd like to help." I reach into my purse to pull out my checkbook. "If you don't mind me asking, how much are you planning on raising tonight?"

She shrugs. "I haven't a clue, my dear. I am avidly hoping for at least one hundred thousand, to get us by for the next few months, but any number is justifiable to me. Money isn't going to make a difference in his health, it'll only make things a little easier, especially when he has to move into a nursing home."

"Have you found a nursing home?"

With tears brimming in her eyes, she explains how she found one in Georgia which is more than her monthly house payment, but she was hoping to get into there due to the fact it's the best in the country. They have more than enough staff which gives each patient exclusive one on one time with their nurses, and even doctors. That they rate higher than almost any other facility in finding treatment plans and so much more. She said his room would be custom decorated to her husband's life, in order to give him a little more repetition.

When I ask her how much it'd cost to get set up there, the number is twice as much as I'd assume, but I write out the numbers for three months’ worth and hand it over. "Get him set up there. My number is on the check if you need more help."

Valentina breaks down in tears, grabbing for me to hug to her. My body tenses but I manage to wrap my arms around her as well. It wasn't as much as I made with Mr. Belvedere, but it was close. I figured if I went through that suffering and pain with him, the least I could do is give a reason behind it.

After the banquet is finished, Winston walks me out to the SUV. It's dark out, late into the night, and he asks if I want to spend more time with him. I glance at my cell phone to get the time. It's nearly midnight, and tomorrow is my day with Everett. I know if I spend more time with him, I'll make back half of what I just gave Valentina, but I would rather get home.

"There is always next week," I tell him.

He doesn't hide the look of disappointment but doesn't argue. "Next week it is. We have to make up for some lost time." He brazenly looks me over with a grin. "But you're definitely worth the wait, Chasity."

"As are you, Winston."

"Well... we do have the car ride home."

"This is true."

With a need unlike any other, he opens the rear door to let me into the SUV. He climbs into the other side. We're not even around the corner when he reaches for the hem of my dress, running his fingers along the skin of my thigh. I part my legs for him.

He pushes my underwear to the side, dipping his fingers inside. He kisses my shoulder while his fingers penetrate me. I look at the rearview mirror as the driver looks away. A few minutes later, he peeks back at us. I spot his cheeks turn a bit blush, but he doesn't falter in his driving.

Turning my head, I whisper to Winston that the driver is watching. Deep down, I hope he decides that this isn't the time and place for this. Instead, he whispers back, "I know."

He starts finger fucking me harder. I can't deny that it feels good, even with the flaws of the situation. Closing my eyes, I imagine Everett, but unlike the last time I imagined him, it does nothing for me. I moan against his touch, I tell him it feels good in whispers I hope the driver doesn't hear, and even though I know there is no way I'm going to get off, I fake an orgasm- which from the way that Winston reacts, I know he believes.

Removing his fingers from between my legs, Winston tastes them, staring directly at me as he sucks away every ounce of juice from his fingers. He licks his lips after, still not turning his direction. "God you taste incredible," he announces.

"So I've been told," I tell him flirtatiously, adding a wink to it.

"Next Saturday I'm going to feast away at your pussy." He definitely doesn't try to be silent about any of it. I think it makes me him feel good talking dirty and doing things to me in front of another person. There are many people I've met over the years that get off easier by having an audience. In fact, once, I even was hired to sit in the room with a couple while they went at it, only for the sake that it made them
feel like porn stars,
so they both told me.

Unsure of what to say, I tell him, "Sounds good to me, baby. Anything I can do in return for you?"

"You do enough by letting me take you out."

When I finally get home, I'm
so exhausted I don't even want to bathe. I decide that I can take a quick shower instead. Stripping from my clothes, I reach into the shower to turn it on.

The steaming hot water feels incredible over my body. Lathering the shampoo in my hair, I start to think more about my life right now. Why do I suddenly despise being with anyone other than Everett? I didn't enjoy being pleasured by Winston, not like the first time when he made me feel a world wind of euphoria. Tonight I actually was happier donating money than I was being pleasured.

By the time I'm rinsing out my conditioner my emotions are being washed over with gloom. I don't like myself right now. For the first time in such a long time, I don't feel powerful or beautiful... if anything, I feel the opposite.

Washing away the suds of my body wash, I quickly turn off the water. I wrap my body in one towel, my hair in another, then I head towards the bedroom. I throw myself down on the bed, immediately breaking out in full blown tears. I've had no choice but to be independent up to this point. To see where I was, what I've come from, to where I am and what I have, I am no longer a needy, scared, little girl- at least not until this point.

Right now, I'm petrified.

I'm scared Everett will find out the truth and leave. I'm fearful he won't love me enough. I'm nervous to give up what I've known the last three years for someone I hardly know, yet I’m already falling for. More than any of it, I'm terrified why suddenly, the only person in the world that can comfort me right now is downstairs, probably fast asleep.

Rolling onto my back, I look up to the ceiling. Snuggles jumps up on the bed, doing what she does best, she snuggles with me. I pet her, but it doesn't release the stress as it normally does.

Standing from the bed after a few minutes of talking with Snuggles about my day, I go grab some clothes from the dresser. I pull on a pair of clean underwear, a pair of yoga shorts, and a tee-shirt I sometimes wear to bed. Padding through the house, I make it to the bathroom to wash my excess makeup off and brush my hair, then I find my phone. I send a text to Everett, even with that little devil on my shoulder telling me I'm throwing the last of my dignity out the window.

I'm having a rough night. Can I come over? If you're awake that is...

I chew on my nails until I receive a text back in a few seconds.

Do you want me to come up to you instead?

No, I don't want to be home. If that's okay...

Please do.

I toss my phone in my purse, make sure Snuggles has enough food, then I head down to Everett's place.

He opens the door before I'm even there, and as I walk through the doorway, he envelopes me in a giant hug. It is probably the best thing he could do, because it makes me feel truly cherished- but it's also the worse thing, because I immediately break out in tears.

"What’s the matter?" He asks sweetly against my skin.

I shake my head back and forth, not wanting to discuss it. More so, not knowing
how
to discuss any of it.

"Brenna, baby, did someone harm you again?"

I continue to shake my head. He doesn't say anything for a long while, but after a few minutes, he moves us to the couch. He sits, pulling me on his lap, and remains holding me to him.

I wake up sometime later
... in Everett's bed.

Maybe it was a long time, because I can spot the sun shining behind his dark curtain. He doesn't have an alarm clock in here, but my purse is next to the side table. I reach into it to see my phone. It reads that it's after eight in the morning. Dropping my phone back in, I roll onto my back, relaxing into the mattress.

I can hear Everett- at least, I hope it to be Everett- in the other room. There is a clanging noise, as if he's actually attempting to pull out pots and pans for a breakfast. It brings me to a smile almost immediately.