“Thanks,” I laughed. “But I think I’m good for the next few years.”
“Just saying,” she continued. “I went there to get my…” her eyebrows raised while her eyes gestured downward, “… my hoo-ha re-sculptured after pushing out Bryson. That kid had a head the size of a fucking bowling bowl on steroids, and he ripped me to shreds, front and back. Bits were falling out where shit’s not meant to fall out and ‘it’ went from looking like a peach crack to a melting alien face with droopy fucking eyes. You know what I mean? But now, I have the va-jay-jay of a virgin, and I plan on breaking myself in all over again.” She cast a glance at the barman who thankfully hadn’t heard her horrifying overshare. Carleen turned back to me wearing a wicked smile. “And I know just the man to pop my cherry.”
Beside me, Peter looked torn between a brave curiosity and soul disturbed. On auto-pilot survival mode, he raised his glass and shot the tequila. His face barely contorted, his eyes scanning the room briefly.
“I’m gonna find some… men to talk to. About… manly stuff.”
“Okay,” I encouraged, giggling at his discomfort.
Carleen raised her shot glass. “Salud.”
“Salud,” I said, returning the gesture.
Carleen locked eyes with the barman while elongating her tongue around the rim. Her target slowed the polish on his wine glass, smiling wide at her seduction attempt. Together, we shot the burning tequila and quickly followed with lemon.
My face contorted and a warm body pressed against my back where Peter had been standing only moments ago. Except this time, it wasn’t Peter.
“Happy birthday, you beautiful girl.” Lips met my cheek.
Carleen’s eyes widened in surprise, her brows remaining perfectly in place courtesy of Botox. She observed the interaction with amusement and curiosity. I wanted to tell her she was misreading the situation between boss and employee, but I couldn’t. Not with David being so touchy-feely. Instead, I sashayed a side-step so we could interact on a more platonic level. I cast a nervous glance at Peter, but he remained engrossed in presumably a manlier conversation with his back to me.
“Thank you, David.” I smiled enough to be polite but not to encourage. “Is Vanessa coming?”
His gaze searched around the room before landing back on me, his indifferent tone catching me off guard. “Vanessa has moved to Florida and is staying with her sister for a while.”
This admission had me lost for words. It all made sense now why he appeared overly eager. It didn’t make it right, but now I understood.
“I’m so sorry, David.”
“I’m not. It was a long time coming.” He smiled playfully, appreciative eyes traveling the length of my body. “I have to say that dress highlights all your best features.”
“And hides all the bad,” I finished off his sentence with an awkward laugh. Despite his unwanted remark, I smiled more to myself knowing the epic struggle I had fitting the tight number over my ass.
David’s eyes narrowed holding my gaze with his intensity. “There are no bad. Certainly, none that I can see.” His voice was a low growl and my cheeks heated at the suggestiveness in his tone.
“What. Is. Happening?” Carleen asked quietly, her mouth like a ventriloquist. I was almost certain she hadn’t blinked since David appeared.
“Everything okay over here?” Peter’s voice broke the discomfort.
David held my gaze a moment longer before zeroing in on my boyfriend. Clearing my throat and feeling a nervous sweat roll down my back, I smiled at Peter’s handsome face and pulled him to my side. “Yes, everything is fine. In fact, I’d like to finally introduce you to my boss. Peter, this is David. David, Peter…”
Unimpressed with Peter’s sudden appearance, David’s eyes hardened, and my anxiety worsened. “Peter also frequents the Alps every season,” I continued as neither man greeted the other. “A pro snowboarder, just like you.” I felt the overwhelming urge to remove myself from the silent standoff. “Right… well… if you’ll excuse me, I better circulate and thank everyone for being here.”
Before either could stop me, I swiveled on my heel and migrated through the crowd and toward the others who sat against the far wall, laughing, drinking, and forgetting about the work week. My clutch vibrated, stopping me mid-step. Placing my wine glass on the high table next to Charlie, I headed out the front and onto the sidewalk. The music and lively chatter was cut off, replaced with beeping horns and blaring sirens. The warmth prickled my skin just the way I liked it, the humidity having dropped since the start of the week. Around me, people were strolling past, couples hand-in-hand, drunks eager to get to the next bar.
I looked at the screen. Mom.
“Hey, Ma,” I answered, always happy to hear her voice.
“Hi, sweetie, happy birthday.”
“Thank you. How’s your trip?” I asked, idly playing with a loose sticker on the parking meter in front of me.
“The trip is going well. Your father, to no surprise, didn’t listen to me and is now glowing red and feeling a little nauseous. But what does one expect when drinking a dozen sangrias in under five hours of blistering sun with no sunscreen…”
While my mother continued talking about my father’s antics, my skin once again tingled, but this time it wasn’t from the heat. At first, I saw nothing of interest that warranted that response. I glanced over my shoulder, but no one I knew had walked out of Cocoon. On the right-hand side, however, a few yards down the street, a man and woman sat in a dark blue sedan, wearing suit jackets. Their faces were shrouded with shadows caused by the position of the street lamp above. But one thing was obvious—they were watching me. The only movement was the woman’s finger tapping on the door to a nothing beat.
“Dad does this every year,” I sympathized, albeit distracted.
“He never learns. Thank goodness you take after me. Anyway, my darling, have fun with your celebrations. I’ll plan a dinner for when we return.”
Moments later, after our farewells, I ended the call. Throwing one last look at the sedan and the unmoving people within, I headed back into Cocoon, the air conditioner hitting me with a welcomed relief. With an aching bladder, I made a straight line to the ladies’ bathroom, dodging the patrons. Again my cell buzzed, this time signaling a message. I smiled at the name. Christina and I had been friends all through college. She met her husband in the last year and moved to Maine to be with him, only half an hour from my parents’ house.
Stopping amidst the crowd, I opened the message and squinted at the screen, caught in a moment’s confusion.
“What the… fuck is … Jesus!”
Placing the phone against my chest, I covered the screen. I’d been staring intently at a close-up picture of a man with his hand gripping his penis and a message reading, “Happy Birthday, bitch.” A naively drawn red smiley face was on the knob of the cock which took up almost the entire screen.
“Shit!” Although I was laughing at her antics, I cursed Christina for sending me her porn and cursed myself for foolishly opening something from her while surrounded by people. Slipping the cell into my clutch, I continued through to the restroom. A group of barely-legal girls filed through the door, their lips set in perpetual pouts. This wasn’t an uncommon sight in this place. Many young girls came here hoping to win the attention of wealthier men they wouldn’t otherwise come in contact with. Once inside, it was just me. After relieving myself, I washed my hands at the marble basin and studied my reflection.
I’d been on edge for most of the night, and the stress showed.