Surrender (13 page)

“Time for me to go home now,” I say, praying he’ll let me off easy.

“Really?” He hugs me tighter. “Just like that, without answering my question?”

I poke him in the ribs and he jumps. That’s when I make my escape, scrambling away. I stick my tongue out. “Who’s in charge now?”

He rubs his chin, a devilish smile curling his lips. “I’ll grant a temporary reprieve,” he rumbles. “But don’t think you’re getting away with anything—I’ll expect an answer soon enough.”

I smile, but inside, fear creeps in. “I need a shower,” I say, grabbing my backpack off the floor. “And you’re not invited.”

He launches off the bed, chasing me out of his bedroom and down the hallway.

Chapter Eleven

Ever since Garrick asked me if I love him, I’ve been a nervous wreck. Tonight is his first night working at the Den. I called in; I’m having dinner with my family instead. I suspect my little sister convinced my mother to drive to Corpus. We’re meeting at La Palmera Mall at six. My ensemble reminds me of a private academy school uniform. My ridiculously conservative mother will approve of the knee-length navy skirt and high-collared white blouse. I put on the one-karat diamond-stud earrings my grandmother gave me for high school graduation. Next, I hurry to the full-length mirror in my bedroom to take a final look. I absolutely cannot give my mother any reason to criticize me.

I’m wearing brown eyeliner and mascara, translucent powder, blush, and mocha lipstick. Mother hates makeup, but I won’t give up everything I enjoy. I even traded cars with Macey for the night so my family doesn’t have to see me get out of my old beater. My cellphone rings. I grab it off the nightstand. Garrick. Not now. I haven’t returned his calls all day. I’m not mad; I just need some time to think things over.

I grab my backpack and keys, and hightail it outside. It’s a quarter to six. Traffic is heavy this time of day. Macey drives a black Jeep; I jump in and crawl to the mall. Parking is a nightmare, but I find a spot. Mom and Marisela are waiting for me at LongHorn Steakhouse. My sister throws herself at me as soon as I get inside. I give her a big squeeze and kiss the tip of her perfect nose. Mother is standing nearby with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Robyn.” Her voice is tight. “You look nice.”

I smile. “Thank you. How are you?” We don’t hug.

She sighs and looks at her watch. “Busy. Let’s have a quick bite, and then you and Marisela can have a half hour to do some shopping.”

I nod, but inwardly I curse her intolerance. I haven’t spent quality time with Marisela in six months. We text sometimes, when she’s alone at home or in between classes, but my mother checks her cellphone often, making it nearly impossible to stay in regular contact. Half an hour is ridiculous. The hostess shows us to a table.

“How’s school?” I ask Marisela.

“She’s doing well,” Mom answers for her. “But she could do better. We’re trying to get her GPA up to a 4.0.”

“Yeah.” Marisela rolls her eyes. “I’m a 3.7 right now.”

“Underachiever,” I tease. “That’s better than me.”

“Really?” Sis asks.

I hang my head, smiling. “Yep, I’m a 3.6.”

“That’s very admirable,” Mom comments.

“Thanks.” I look around the restaurant. We’re sitting near the bar. There’s old Texas artwork hanging on the walls. Black-and-whites of cowboys, jailhouses, and sheriffs holding their six-shooters. I laugh. “Where’s Dad?”

Marisela eyes Mom. “He’s volunteering at the church,” my sister says. “There’ve been some electrical issues in the sanctuary.”

Mom exhales loudly. “Don’t lie, Marisela—it’s a sin.”

“I’m
not
lying.”

I sit up straight. Whenever Mom gets that pinched look, I instinctively prepare for something big.

“You already know he doesn’t wish to see you, Robyn.”

That’s it?

“Did something else happen?” He hates what I do for a living, but when I do go to their house for dinner or call, he talks to me, briefly.

“This isn’t the proper environment to discuss such personal matters.” Mom wiggles in her chair. She’s uncomfortable.

“Then when?” I’m getting defensive. “I hardly see you as it is.”

“Don’t worry, Robyn,” Marisela says, trying to soothe me. “He’s really busy.”

“And Hector and Vittorio? What about Tina?” I inquire. Why not get the whole family out of the way?

“Everyone is fine,” Mom answers. “But we all agree that as long as you continue to
work
where you do, we can only spend limited time together.”

My church-loving parents and grown siblings forget the most fundamental tenet of Christ’s message . . .
judge not.
“All right,” I retort. “I’ll quit. When can I move home?”

Mom unfolds a napkin and arranges it on her lap. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not, Mom. I’m perfectly serious. You don’t want me working at the Devil’s Den. I get it. If I don’t, I can’t afford to pay rent, car insurance, or tuition.”

A waitress approaches the table. “Can I take your order?”

“Two chef salads, with Italian dressing on the side.” Mom orders for Marisela too.

The server looks at me. “Water.” My insides are twisted in knots.

“You can’t come home,” Mom says, matter-of-fact.

“Why?” I should have asked her a long time ago.

She leans forward and looks at me. “We like the arrangements we have now. With your brothers and older sister gone, the house is quiet. Marisela graduates next year and will be off to college soon enough.”

My mother will
never
suffer from empty-nest syndrome. “At least I know.” What can I say? I place my fisted hands on the table. I should have gone to work.

I look at my watch: it’s seven thirty. Robyn called in and won’t answer her phone. I’m worried. The girl doesn’t get it. I need to know she’s all right because I care, not because I’m trying to run her life. I don’t want to suffocate her; I want to protect her. I scan the floor. Twice a night the DJ calls for a house dance. Thirty girls swarm the tables and do mini table dances for as many customers as they can in ten minutes. It’s challenging, because we need to keep an eye on all of them at once. I walk slowly around the main room while reading the stage list. I’m matching titles to faces. Half the stage names sound like something from a bad porno. Silver . . . Desire . . . Aphrodite?
Really?
We employee nearly a hundred girls and run thirty to thirty-five at night.

The house dance ends and I head to the security office. Cameras are positioned all over the club, but not in the bathrooms. There are three in the dressing room. I sit down in front of the monitors and watch. The girls flood the dressing room. I recognize half. Macey is near her locker, talking on her cellphone. I hope it’s Robyn checking in. Unfortunately, there’s no audio on the cameras. Next, I do spot checks on the stages and poolroom. Everything appears normal. I look back at the dressing room and see Robyn weeping in Macey’s arms. I scoot to the edge of the chair. There’s no mistaking her body language. My heart races. First instinct: charge in and take control. I can’t do it.

I focus my attention elsewhere. I pick up the employee schedule and start formulating how to keep Craig off Robyn’s shifts. Fourteen bouncers report to me and Craig has seniority. There’s no plausible way. I work Wednesday through Saturday, and so does Craig. He’s an asshole, but a valuable part of our team. After finishing next week’s schedule, I glance at the screen again. Most of the girls have cleared out of the dressing room. Robyn is leaning against a table. She’s alone. I’m going in.

There’s a private entryway between my office and the dressing room. I knock and announce myself. “Security.” No one answers. I open the door.

A couple of the girls catcall as I walk by. I grin. The dressing room is large and rectangular. Racks of freestanding lockers form half-rooms. Robyn is sitting near her locker on the farthest wall. She doesn’t look up; she’s scrolling through something on her cellphone.

“Little bird,” I call.

She eyes me and nods somberly. “How’s your first night?”

I tower over her. “Quiet without you.”

She smirks. “From what I saw, there’s plenty of tail competing for your attention.”

I chuckle. “Let me have fun while I can.” She cocks her head, but doesn’t respond. I kneel beside her. “Where were you, baby? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I had dinner with my mother and sister.”

She looks like she’s going to cry. “Did you have fun?”

I get the
are you stupid
stare. “Hardly.”

I caress the knuckles on her right hand. The main door opens and Robyn immediately retreats. I frown. “No games—no hiding—remember?”

“I can’t deal with this right now.”

She’s emotionally inaccessible. I know she’s going through some major shit with her family. I’m incredibly empathetic. I think how painful it must be to have parents who don’t want you. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll be over after work.”

“Macey is checking out right now. She’s taking me.”

I’m glad she has someone. I kiss the top of her head and leave.

“Here, girl.” Macey hands me a cup of my favorite tea, vanilla chamomile, then sits crossed-legged beside me on the couch. “Finally some time alone together.”

I smile.

“Let it go, girlfriend,” she says in that silly authoritarian voice I adore. “Tell me all the hot details.” She’s rubbing her hands together like a little fiend.

I blush. “He’s incredible.”

Her mouth drops open. “That’s it?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

She slaps my arm. “You
will
share.”

I give her the PG version.

“Wow.” She’s speechless. “He asked if
you
love
him.
”

I know my face is glowing.

“That means he’s in love with you. Guys do that crap all the time so they don’t have to be the first one to say it.”

I roll my eyes. “How do you know? You don’t love anyone.”

“Lust, love, what’s the difference?” She laughs. “The dinner in Rockport is the best part of the story . . . I’ve never heard of a guy doing that. I can’t believe you . . . you opened your big mouth and Garrick put his foot in it.” She gives me a hug. “My little sister is growing up. Bye-bye virginity, hello womanhood.”

“Don’t throw me a deflowering party,” I say. Macey celebrates everything.

“That’s a great idea.” Her eyes grow wider. “Are you bringing him to the football party?”

I think. “I’d better not. Craig is going.”

“Listen.” She taps my shoulder. “You can’t creep around with homeboy. Let them settle their differences. You focus on being happy.”

She’s right. Why should I hide my relationship from anyone? I nod. “I’ll invite him.”

“Good.” She smiles. “Now curl up and go to sleep. I’ll stay with you until Garrick shows up.”

I’m vaguely aware of the front door opening and closing. I hear heavy footsteps, then water running in the kitchen. I’m wrapped up in my favorite quilt and don’t care what’s going on outside my cocoon. Then someone lifts me off the couch and I’m floating up the stairs. I land on the bed and sigh. Comfortable and warm . . .

I’m wide awake at five in the morning. It’s dark and cold in my bedroom. I reach to my left. Garrick is here. Funny, I don’t remember when he showed up.

“Come here, baby.” He flips me over and spoons me. “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Macey said you crashed by nine. You didn’t wake up after I carried you upstairs. Feel better?”

Surprisingly, I do. “Yes.”

“Good.” He pulls me tight against him and his huge erection pokes me in the small of my back. The happy spot between my legs tingles. After a moment, he asks, “What happened?”

“My mother pulled her usual holier-than-thou act and I called her on it. Told her I’d quit my job and move home.”

He gives me a squeeze. “Did she agree to your terms?”

I heave a sigh. “No. She told me she’s happy her last child will be out of the house soon and how she and my father enjoy living alone.”

“Sorry, but I’m glad you tried. Did you spend time with your little sister?”

“A few minutes—there’s never enough time with her. She’ll be eighteen soon and out of the house. But I miss her, a lot.”

“Perfectly natural,” he observes. “I’d be half a person without Gretchen.”

His immense love for his sister brings me both joy and sorrow. I desperately wish
my
brothers and older sister felt a grain of what Garrick feels for Gretchen. “I’m glad you have her.”

“I’m glad I have
you.
” He kisses the back of my neck and I squeal.

He does it again, only this time he uses his tongue, too. Electrifying pangs of pleasure shoot throughout my body. I instantly grind against him.

“Did I hit a second G-spot?”

I nod vigorously.

“Your neck?” He sounds intrigued.

“Dangerous territory for anyone.” I can hardly speak I’m so turned on. I love this guy.

“Anyone?”
he growls. “I don’t think so.”

Chapter Twelve

Macey shares a 6,000-square-foot rental house on Ocean Drive with two other dancers. It is a mansion. It’s also a party palace. I’m at her house bright and early on Sunday to help decorate for the football party. Jack Daniel’s and beer bottles are strewn everywhere in the main living room. Two guys and Pepper, one of Macey’s roommates, are crashed naked on the couch. I stare shamelessly.

“Macey?”

She comes in from the kitchen. “Yes?” She acts innocent.

“Ever hear of blankets?”

“Ever hear of walk on by?”

I do, shaking my head. “I’m glad Garrick only dropped me off.”

“Listen to you,” she says sarcastically. “Going all Suzy Homemaker on me.”

“Macey,” I say seriously. “All the components for an orgy are passed out on your couch.”

“Not mere components,” she reports. “Pepper swings. They had one last night.”

“There are no sheets on the couch. Gross!”

She looks at me, tilts her head, and busts out laughing. “Good thing their actual party was in the pool room.”

“I’m afraid to even ask what goes on in that pool.”

“Chlorine, and lots of it,” she shoots back.