Struck By You: Players (4 page)

I couldn’t stop staring at her as she got closer to the doors. I heard the rather large security guard greet her by name and let her inside.

“What’s wrong with you?” asked my brother mockingly.

I didn’t want to tell him what happened because he would never let me live it down.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost or you fucked that blonde stripper that just walked in,” he said smiling wry.

I shook my head. “That was my yoga instructor is all, just a bit surprised,” I replied, and that’s all I was going to divulge.

Tanner started laughing. “I’ll get you a lap dance with her.”

“Fuck off, she’s not my type anyway,” I retorted.

“More for me. A hot yoga instructor’s lap dance, that ought to be interesting,” he said and went back to talk to his buddies.

It was nearly 7:15 by the time we got inside and not only did Carl come through for him, but he also reserved a table for us close to the main stage.

The place was spotless, the tables were marble, the chairs were leather with armrests, and the women were extraordinary. Even the waitresses were gorgeous and friendly.

“Gotta hand it to Carl, this place is above and beyond my expectations,” said my brother as he watched the girls dancing on the stage.

“I agree,” I replied. I kept looking around to see if I could spot her but she was nowhere, which made me believe she was a feature attraction and I would soon see her on the stage.

After about an hour of debauchery and watching countless women on the stage, I decided to head to the bathroom. They were located down a long dark hallway near the main bar. The place was busy and there were security guards everywhere watching everyone’s every move. As I washed my hands, I heard the announcer call out the main the attraction of the night so I rushed out of the bathroom door. I was so preoccupied and rushed to get back that I bumped into a girl quite hard, pushing her onto the floor. I looked and I realized what I had done and to my horror, who I had bumped into.

“Christ, in a hurry? Asshole!” she said, trying to hold on the wall to help herself up.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, holding her arm helping her to her feet in her very high stilettos. She looked at me and I saw the shock across her face – she must have been just as surprised as I was. “Are you okay?” I asked her, inspecting her to see if she was in any pain.

“Yeah I’m fine. Better question is, what the fuck are you doing here, are you stalking me?” she asked. She was livid.

I sighed. “Glad you’re okay and don’t flatter yourself sweetheart, my brother brought me here today. I had no idea what you did on the side – if I did, I wouldn’t have looked at you twice,” I said offering the same hostility.

She smiled wryly. “So full of yourself and such a lousy performance,” she said and walked away back to the bar.

Lousy?
I’ve been called a lot of things but lousy never one of them. I never did things half-assed, always aiming to please, and I’m pretty damn sure I pleased the bitch yesterday. I was angry so I quickly walked back and looked for her among the crowd of topless waitresses and dancers walking around. Again, she was nowhere. I needed a shot of whisky to calm myself down so I went to main bar. I stood there, waiting for a bartender, still looking around the place to see if I could spot her.

“ID please?” asked the female voice and I turned to look at her. She was looking at me intently with not a hint of a smile on her face.

“What?” I asked, a bit confused.

“ID, do you have one?” she asked and she was serious.

“You’re a bartender?”

She twisted her head slightly to the side, curling her lips into almost a smile.

“You showed me your level of maturity; now I want to see some ID,” she continued.

I reached for my wallet, and for some reason I was nervous as I pulled it out and showed it to her. She took it out of my hand and studied it. “What can I get you?” she exhaled, passing it back to me.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, a shot of whiskey please,” I said.

She walked away to grab the bottle, slammed the shot glass hard on the counter and poured my drink in front of me.

“That will be fifteen, or I can tab it to your table,” she said.

“Tanner Hayes, please.”

She added it on the computer and walked away to serve another client.

I stayed there waiting for her to come back and serve me again but she ignored me and let the other two bartenders serve me instead. So I decided to quit and went back to my table, or I’d get too drunk by the time the night was over.

I went back to my table feeling like a complete asshole. I watched her from where I was sitting. She was very flirtatious with the clients and she had a flock of them sitting there, chatting her up.

Suddenly I had a woman’s hand on my shoulder. “Do you want it right here or private, handsome?” the woman whispered in my ear. I looked up at to see a beautiful redhead in a white bikini.

“My gift to you little bro, you seem stressed and who could blame you after sitting with dear old dad for two hours?” said my brother cheering me with his beer on hand.

I looked at the bar again where she was working and this time she was looking back at me. I smiled. “Right here is fine,” I replied to the beautiful dancer who was about to give me a very expensive lap dance.

 
 
Chapter 5

    
I
decided to have a “me” weekend. No dates, no friends, just me, my credit card and the mall. I don’t know why I was self-loathing over this thing with Mason. I’ve met some assholes in my life, but this one was one of a kind. I regretted everything from Thursday on and what bothered me the most was that I couldn’t take any of it back.

     So I decided to take a stroll through the Eaton Centre and buy myself a lot of things I didn’t need, and then I could feel guilty about those instead.

     I walked around and got myself a bunch of underwear, perfume, makeup and then I remembered my dad’s birthday was coming soon, so I decided to go into Harry Rosen to find him a sweater or something appropriate for the fall. A really good-looking sales man approached me. He looked close to my age, maybe a bit younger but in any case, he was hot.

“I’m looking for something for my dad’s birthday, I was thinking a sweater or cardigan perhaps,” I said acting a little lost.

“Not a problem ma’am, right this way please.”

“Oh I’m Riley, not a ma’am,” I said. I hated that term.

He looked back at me and smiled warmly.
“Does he have a color preference?” he asked as he kept walking.

“Not really, grey or black will do,” I replied.

He showed me a few styles and I was purposely taking my time making a decision.

“So I told you mine, what’s yours?” I asked.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, a bit confused.

“Your name, handsome,” I said smiling.

“I’m Steve,” he said looking around the store. I assumed he was looking for his manager; I imagined chatting up the clients was a big no-no.

“You working late, Steve?” I said getting closer to him.

He put one hand in his pant pocket and ran the other through his curly brown hair. “Uh, no, I get off at six actually,” he whispered. I looked around the area and there was a man in a leather jacket standing with his back to us, looking through sport jackets.

I smiled and moved even closer to him. “I think I’ll take these two, Steve,” I said, passing him two sweaters. “Call me,” I whispered in his ear while slipping my card in pant pocket and stepping back.

He cleared his throat. “Yes ma’am,” he said after and took the sweaters to the cashier.

There were two cashiers, a young blonde girl and a dark-haired girl who was helping the man in the leather jacket, who had a rather large pile of dress shirts and a couple of ties. After two customers in front of me, I was finally cashed out and I left the store.

“I have to admit that was priceless,” said a familiar voice behind me. I turned around and the man in the leather jacket was none other than Mason.

I turned forward and kept walking faster this time.

“C’mon Riley, I’m sorry about last night, I was an asshole, I admit it,” he said catching up to me as I kept my fast pace.

“Yes you were.”

“You should have just told me you were a bartender, there’s no shame in that.”

I stopped. “No there isn’t, and there’s no shame in being a stripper either. Most of those girls are decent and some even have kids; they do what they do because the money is good and they can.”

“I have nothing against erotic dancers Riley, but you did damage my ego a bit on Thursday. I had every right to be mad,” he said looking into my eyes.

“Okay, fine. Can I get about my day now?” I asked.

“Let me take you out for dinner,” he said.

“No,” I replied and began walking again.

“Just dinner, just friends,” he insisted.

“We’re nothing Mason. Other than you being one of my clients.”

“Fine, a business dinner then.”

“I have plans,” I said.

“He’s not going to call you,” he said.

“He will.”

“A hundred bucks he doesn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?” I asked. He was getting on my nerves already.

“You’re too good for him, you caught him off guard and you came off a little too strong.”

“No I didn’t, I gave him my number and told him to call me. Works every time,” I protested.

“He won’t, trust me.”

“Whatever,” I said and kept walking.

“So come to dinner with me, I won’t take no for an answer,” he insisted.

I sighed. “Fine. I didn’t bring my car, I walked here, so if we have to go anywhere, let’s make it close.” I was wearing strappy heels and my feet were already sore.

     “That’s okay, my car is close. I know a nice place in Greektown,” he said.

     “Fine, let’s go,” I sighed.

     We walked across the mall and made our way to the garage. Much to my surprise, he too was a car fiend. He owned a fairly new model of a black Dodge Charger V8 with a Hemi.

     “Interesting car,” I exhaled.

     “Yeah, and yours as well,” he smiled, opening the door for me. He took my bags and put them in his trunk. He sat down and put on a pair of Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses. I smiled.

     “And with the sunglasses, you complete the douchebag look,” I said mockingly.

     His cocky smile faded. “That’s not nice,” he said firing up the engine. 

     “Never said I was,” I taunted.

     He screeched the tires and drove fast out of the parking lot.

We were quiet most of the way through the city. It was almost uncomfortable – we barely knew each other but yet we had been intimate.

     “So,” I began, “you’re a lawyer.”

     “Not yet…well I am, I just don’t have a job yet, but I’ll find out next week if I make junior partner at my dad’s firm.”

     “What do you do for money then?”

     He started laughing.

     “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“I’m not sure I want to tell you.”

     “I don’t care, I’m just making conversation.”

     He sighed. “My stepdad set up a trust fund for my brother and me until we got on our feet after graduation,” he said and I could tell he was embarrassed about it. So I didn’t make any comments.

     “See, I knew I shouldn’t have told you,” he remarked.

     “I didn’t say anything,” I protested.

     “But I know what you’re thinking,” he began. “You think I’m spoiled, privileged…I’ve heard it all,” he was clearly upset.

     “Mason, chill out, I’m no one to judge. I work for my sister at the spa and her husband got me the job at the club. I’ve never even been to an actual job interview. And I make a disgusting amount of money at both places and I work part-time.”

     He was quiet but still upset.

     “Where did you go to school?” I asked, changing the subject.

     “U of T.”

     “Oh me too!”

     “Really, what for?” he seemed surprised.

     I laughed, “I have a bachelor’s degree in Psychology – not a complete idiot.”

     “Never said you were. How come you’re not doing anything with it?”

     “Need a Masters to get a job. A decent-paying job anyway.”

     “So? What are you waiting for?” he asked.

     “Not sure I want to.”

     He looked at me surprised. “Mind me asking the reason?”

     “I’d rather not discuss,” I replied.

     “Is it money? I know it’s expensive, but my dad works with a lot of foundations willing to–”

     “No it’s not the money, my parents already offered to take care of it. I don’t want to talk about it and that’s final,” I said cutting him off.