Sinfully Ever After, page 14
part #4 of The Escort Series
“Think she’s gonna throw up?” Thalia asks me.
“Nah. She’s always pissed me off. We’ll go out and drink our faces off, be completely wasted, but this bitch never throws up. She’ll feel like shit, but she won’t puke. However, I’ve thrown up in people’s bushes outside of parties. I’ve thrown up in public bathrooms. And I’ve had to have someone pull the car over so I could throw up on the street. It’s annoying.”
Thalia laughs at me. She doesn’t seem as drunk anymore, but definitely not one hundred percent sober either.
“So, be honest with me. Are you really okay with all this wedding stuff being in your face when you can’t get married? Because, honestly, it was getting to me. Not because I can’t get married, but I think I was just letting myself freak out thinking Troy would never want to marry me because of his past. It was hard to get away from those thoughts with all the wedding planning and everything.”
She hesitates for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts. “Well, yeah. I guess you could say it was hard to not think about my own future. I think that’s natural, though. A friend gets married and you suddenly think about whether that’s in your cards or not. Or someone gets pregnant, and you start wondering if you want kids and when and how many.”
“Right. Exactly. But because of your unique situation, have you thought about just marrying one of them?”
She starts shaking her head immediately. “No way. I could never do that. I love them equally, and marrying one of them would make the other one feel less than, and that’s not the case. So as much as I want to get married, I love Linc and Marc so much that I’d never leave one of them out of such a special moment, plus we…” She trails off and starts chewing on her bottom lip.
“You what?” I question.
“Well,” she starts, looking both excited and nervous. “I didn’t really want to say anything.”
“Oh, well you have to now!” I say, bringing my legs up on the couch and sitting Indian style.
She glances at the stairs then looks back at me. “The other day the guys took me out to dinner, and-”
“Well, I feel better,” Adrienne announces, coming down the stairs in a thick, fleece robe, and her damp hair piled into a messy bun on her head.
“Did you take a shower?” Thalia asks.
“I had to. They always make me feel better.”
“So that’s your secret,” I mutter. “I couldn’t imagine standing in a shower while I was wasted. I’d probably fall and get a concussion.”
“That’s because you’re a drunky drunkerson,” she says with a laugh. “I wasn’t that drunk. Thalia, feel free to use a shower if you want to.”
“No, Thalia was just about to tell me something,” I say, looking back at her with pleading eyes.
“Uh, I don’t know,” she says, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“What’s goin’ on?” Adrienne asks.
Thalia exhales. “I wasn’t going to say anything just yet.”
“Oh, just say it!” I plead.
“But I don’t want to take any attention off your wedding, Adrienne.”
Adrienne looks confused. “What do you mean?”
Thalia rubs her palms over the couch cushions. “Well, the other day Lincoln and Marc took me out to dinner.” She pauses, looking at us both, keeping us in suspense. “Towards the end of it, they proposed.”
Me and Adrienne both gasp at the same time. Thalia smiles and continues.
“They want to give me the wedding I’ve always dreamed of. They want us to dedicate ourselves to each other in front of the people we care most about. So, we’re going to have a ceremony and everything. I just didn’t want to steal any of the spotlight.”
Adrienne swats the air like that thought is ridiculous. “Please. I am so happy for you guys!”
“That’s amazing, T. Seriously,” I tell her.
A radiant smile takes over her face. Her happiness courses through her, and I feel bad she felt she had to keep that kind of news to herself.
Adrienne, ever the event planner, starts questioning her about what kind of ceremony and reception she’d want. Though it’s three in the morning, we all stay up another hour and a half discussing weddings and baby showers. Everything seems to be working out for everyone, except for the little fact that the father of my baby doesn’t know he’s going to be a daddy soon.
I stress myself out thinking about it once again, and wonder if I should just tell him over the phone right now just to get it over with. I shake my head. I can wait. He’ll be back tomorrow. Tomorrow’s the day.
TROY
The escort club is one of the most amazing places I’ve seen. For one, this is definitely more of an upscale place, and everyone is dressed to the nines. Luckily, Candi informed Nico of the dress code, so we were all prepared before coming here.
It resides on the two top floors of a giant building, and upon walking in, you’re greeted with a grand, stark-white staircase. The floor is also a bright white that sparkles when the light hits it just right. There are black tables and chairs strategically placed along the walls, leaving plenty of open space for people who want to dance. The atmosphere isn’t too club-like. The music isn’t about to bust your eardrums, so people can actually have conversations. The lighting isn’t too dim either.
Our hosts lead us to a large bar that sits in the corner of the vast room. The white, marble top rests on an intricately carved black bottom, and three bartenders stand behind it.
Lincoln whistles. “Nice place.”
Candi nods. “We love it.”
“How new is this?” Jace asks. “I’ve been to LA plenty of times when I was working and never heard of this place.”
“Maybe about a year.”
“Makes sense that we haven’t heard of it,” I say.
“The owner of the escort company we work for teamed up with two other escort company owners in the surrounding area and they built this,” Candi says, gesturing to the room. “They knew how hard it could be for escorts to find significant others because of the nature of the job, so they figured maybe we could find others in the same career field who would understand.”
Garrett makes a face and I know he’s about to say something.
“Uhh. Not to be rude or anything, but doesn’t that just mean that as a couple you’d have more chances at having problems because you’d both be sleeping with lots of different people?”
“We don’t sleep with all of our clients,” she starts, “and people in this profession know that our job is just that. We aren’t falling in love with our clients.”
Garrett smirks and looks at his brother. “Tell that to this guy,” he says.
“Shut up,” Marc tells him.
Candi shrugs. “You can’t guarantee anything working out, in any situation, but we like to be able to come here and meet people who know our job and won’t judge us.”
Garrett nods at that, and I think we can all understand that statement. There were many times when we were afraid to tell other people what we did because the look you’d get would be one of disgust. Then you start getting life advice and told what we’re doing is wrong. People love judging others who don’t do things exactly the way they do.
After we get our drinks, we all start to split up. Garrett, Nico, and Kade all go off with some of the girls that brought us here. The rest of us linger in the main room for a little while before Jace suggests heading upstairs.
“I just want to see what’s up there. You can’t really tell from down here,” he says.
And it’s true. It’s darker up there, and while you see some people going up or coming down from time to time, you can’t really see what’s going on.
Jace and I lead the way while Linc and Marc follow behind us. When we get to the top, it splits off, so Jace and I go to the left while Marc and Linc go to the right.
“It’s suspiciously quieter up here,” I say. “I figured this would be more of the club atmosphere since it’s darker.”
“Yeah. It’s kind of weird.”
We continue walking around until we see an entranceway into a darkened room. It takes both of us several seconds before we realize what we see.
The décor is starkly different from downstairs. There’s a red, St. Andrew’s cross on the wall, which doesn’t seem to be one that ever gets used. There’s also two flat-screen TVs with what looks to be soft porn playing on them, and large couches in front of them where people sit and watch.
“Wow,” Jace says in a whisper.
“Yeah.”
“I wonder what Marc and Linc found.”
“Let’s go find them,” I say, noticing a couple of women looking our way.
We head back out towards the staircase and see Linc and Marc exiting the room they went to. Marc’s eyebrows go up.
“Fun stuff?” I ask.
He looks to Lincoln. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’m pretty sure there’s some glory hole rooms, and a couple prison cell type rooms with some people in them.”
“We got soft porn in there,” Jace says.
“Maybe that’s the room where you get turned on, and this is the one where you go to get taken care of,” Linc says.
“I still think our place is better,” Marc says with a shrug.
I laugh and throw my arm around Marc’s shoulder. “It is, now let’s go find the youngins,” I say as we descend the staircase.
“Lord knows what my brother has gotten himself into,” Marc says, shaking his head. “I’m afraid he’s gonna want to move to LA if we stay here any longer.”
“What’s wrong with LA?” Jace asks.
“Nothing, I guess,” he answers with a shrug. “But my mom will lose her mind when her baby up and decides to move. She still makes him dinner and takes it over to his house to make sure he’s eating right,” Marc says with a chuckle. “She’d probably blame me, but I’m used to that. Older siblings always get the blame for everything.”
Lincoln puts a hand on Marc’s shoulder. “I think you’re concerned about him wanting to move out here,” he says with a gentle smile.
“What? Me? Why would I care?” Marc questions.
“Probably just another older sibling thing. You worry he may be in over his head or get into some trouble or something.”
“Well, he would be in over his head,” Marc replies. “He’s never lived outside of our hometown. He only just got on a plane for the first time in his life. He wouldn’t be able to afford a nice place in LA. You know it’s expensive out here. Where would he work? He doesn’t even have friends or family here.”
Marc takes a breath and the rest of us look at each other and grin. It takes him a few seconds, but then he finally sees what we all do.
“Okay, maybe I am a little protective.”
As if he heard us talking about him, Garrett pops into our circle and puts his arms around both Marc and Lincoln’s shoulders. “Oh my god, I think I’m in love with this city.”
Marc rolls his eyes and the rest of us start laughing.
“What?” Garrett asks.
“Nothing,” I answer. “Why do you love it so much?”
He instantly breaks into a wide smile. “The girls, the nightlife, the never-ending things to do and see.”
“There’s girls back at home,” Marc chimes in.
“Not like these girls,” Garrett says with a laugh. “And you know we don’t have any sort of nightlife or anything to do there. It’s a town for old people.”
“Maybe he will want to move,” I whisper to Jace.
Jace shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Marc looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.”
“He’s a momma bear,” Jace says with a chuckle.
“Come on, guys. I scored us a booth with a couple of bottles,” Nico says, appearing out of nowhere.
“How the fuck did you manage that?” I ask.
“I don’t know why you guys doubt my skills so much,” he replies. “I’m a smooth-talking, charming kind of guy. I can get whatever I want if I play my cards right. Now come on and enjoy this free liquor. Is this a fucking bachelor party or what?”
“I could use some more liquor,” Jace says, following Nico to the other room. The rest of us fall in line and enjoy the next two hours, getting completely shit-faced.
EMILIE
We’ve been at the spa for an hour and a half, and so far, I’ve gotten a manicure and pedicure, and now I’m sitting in a chair eating some chips and getting my hair trimmed. What is it about hairstylists that make you feel like you can tell them your whole life story? Maybe because they don’t know you? Maybe because they’re stuck there with you and have to listen to whatever you say? I don’t know what it is, but I’ve already started spilling my guts to Jeanine.
“And that’s why I haven’t told him I’m pregnant yet. Do you have any kids?”
She nods as she runs a comb through my wet hair. “I have two little monsters. Three and five.”
“Oh wow. Are they a handful?”
“They are, but they’re amazing. They just love you so much at this age. You are the best and funniest person they know.”
“Boys, girls, or one of each?”
“One of each. My daughter is the oldest, and she thinks she’s the boss of her brother,” she says with a laugh.
“Girls,” I say, shaking my head. “We always think we’re the boss of someone.”
“I mean, we’re not wrong,” Jeanine says with a laugh.
“I want a boy and a girl, but I hope this one’s a girl. I know you’re supposed to say you just want one that’s healthy, and blah blah, but I really want to see Troy with a daughter. I think he’d be wrapped around her little finger.”
She chuckles and starts cutting off my split-ends. “Probably. That’s how my husband is with our daughter. But my little boy is a momma’s boy, so it’s okay,” she says with a smile.
Jeanine and I continue to chat it up for the next forty minutes, and by the time my hair is done, I feel like I’ve made another friend.
“Well, thanks for listening to me,” I say as I get out of the chair. “And thanks for making me look beautiful again,” I say, swishing my hair back and forth, wishing it always looked this good.
“No problem, girlfriend,” she says. “Good luck telling your boyfriend he’s about to be a daddy.”
“Thanks. Good luck with your little monsters.”
She laughs. “I’ll need it. They’re with my mom right now, so they’ve probably been eating all the cookies she makes for them.”
I smile at her before turning away to go look for Adrienne, but deep down I feel a pain I haven’t felt before. A realization hits me. I haven’t even thought about this until just now. My baby will never know my parents. He or she won’t know my mom’s cooking. Won’t know my dad’s jokes. Won’t know how amazing they were.
I’m glad Troy’s parents are as great as they are. I know his mom is dying for grandbabies, so I know my baby will have at least one set of loving grandparents, but it still hurts that my parents won’t be here to see me be a mom.
“Hey!” Thalia announces, coming out of the sauna. “Your hair looks great.”
“Oh, thanks!” I say, fluffing it with my hand, grateful to be out of my own thoughts. “Where’s A?”
“I think she’s getting a massage.”
“Oh yeah. Wish I could get a massage. Who knew pregnant women were at risk for miscarriage when getting massages in the first trimester? I could totally use one right now.”
Thalia shrugs. “I had no clue, but maybe in the second trimester?”
“Yeah. Well, I’ll let you go shower. You can find me getting a facial.”
“Okay.”
I have a little while before my appointment time, so I find a soft chair and pull my phone out to text Troy.
Hey baby. How goes it?
It takes him a couple minutes to respond, and a few tries.
Jey voo
Hey
I meant hey boo. Sorry.
Half sleep. My eyes won’t open all the way.
I laugh out loud. Must’ve had a long night.
Okay, weirdo. Text me when your eyes can open all the way. I love you.
He sends me an emoji of a thumbs up along with an emoji of what I assume represents drunk or hungover. I can’t help but smile at my phone before slipping it into my back pocket.
My facial takes about thirty minutes, and when I’m done, I meet up with Thalia and Adrienne in the locker room feeling refreshed and relaxed.
“Today has been amazing,” I say on a sigh as I drop onto a soft couch along the wall.
“Yes, it has. I’m fully waxed and body scrubbed and ready for my wedding night,” Adrienne says, wiggling her brows.
“Like y’all ain’t been doing it every single day anyway,” I say, playfully rolling my eyes.
“We haven’t!” she defends. “I told him we should stop having sex for a week up to the wedding.”
“Why?” Thalia and I both ask in unison.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It’ll make us look forward to the wedding night even more. Anticipation and all that,” she says with a wave of her hand. “But I was on my period last week, so it’s been almost two weeks!”
“You’re crazy,” I say with a laugh.
“Whatever,” she says, taking her clothes out of a locker. “I don’t have that much longer to wait.” She pauses, pulling her oversized shirt over her head. “But it’s pretty hard to not jump him when he climbs into bed next to me every night.”
“Maybe you should’ve started sleeping in different rooms,” I joke.
“Shush,” she says with a laugh, throwing her towel at me. “Have either of you talked to the guys today?”
“I texted Troy. He seems to be hungover. He could barely type out a few words and said his eyes couldn’t open all the way.”
“I briefly spoke to Lincoln this morning,” Thalia says. “He said everyone got pretty trashed last night. They were able to get their hands on some free alcohol, so they didn’t let any go to waste. He also said Marc’s phone is missing.”
