by Lisa De Jong
“I have a great idea!” Megan burst through the door. Her ponytail swung side-to-side as she made her way over to me by the kitchen island. Raising my eyebrow, I watched as she threw her purse on top of the counter. She had a habit of coming in without knocking. I guess it was my fault for not locking the door.
“What’s your great idea?” I asked, placing my roster down.
Jerking straight up, she pressed her hands together with the biggest oh-my-God-no-one-could-possibly-be-this-happy grin. Shaking my head, I allowed her to continue. “We are going to Club21 tonight!” She began to do a jumping up and down dance.
“No!” Okay, so maybe I kind of overreacted, but there was no way I was going to that club. No way at all.
Her hands fell to the counter, and her lips pouted. “Why? I thought it would be great before you started school.”
Shaking my head, I was not backing down. “No, and out of all clubs why did you choose that one? Why can’t we go to where you work?”
“Because I called out sick tonight, so I could take you out. Besides, a co-worker of mine told me about Club21. Her cousin works for the owner, so she was able to get me VIP tickets.” She flashed that smile again as she pulled out two tickets from her back pocket.
“What’s her cousin’s name?” Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t care, but I did wonder if it was someone I knew or someone that was possibly new or his ex-assistant. Grrrgh.
“I don’t know, but she’s going to be there. Her cousin is throwing her a birthday bash. She really wanted me to go, and I thought it would be nice to take you out.” She pouted again. “Oh come on, Mia, you act like an eighty-year-old woman sometimes. You need to go out and have fun. You’re only twenty-four. Gosh, I would hate to see how you act when you’re thirty!”
I most certainly do not act like an eighty-year-old woman. I gave her a wicked glare for that rude comment. I’m just more laid back. Yeah, that’s it laid back. I’d rather sit at home, reading a book, or watching a movie, sipping on wine or coffee far away from the outside cruel world. Oh my God, I do act like an eighty-year-old woman! Narrowing my eyes at her, I watched as she placed her folded hands under her chin, pouting her lips and widening her eyes. She was giving me the most pathetic puppy face I’d ever seen. She even went as far as to whimper like a crying puppy.
“Fine!” Giving in, I rolled my eyes again.
She squealed and ran to my side, jumping up and down. “Oh we are going to have so much fun!”
I shot a pointed stare and brought a finger up, “But if I say let’s go, you have to promise me we go. Promise?”
“Of course, Mia, but I’m sure you’re not going to want to leave. I heard it’s a really nice place. Come on, let’s go beautify ourselves. Oh and I’ll need to borrow something of yours.” She bit down on her lip and then giggled. I shook my head, and we headed to my bedroom to “beautify” ourselves. I just hoped that night would go down smoothly.
****
“This is called a club. In here you can act your age.”
Megan’s sarcastic tone ripped through the pounding music and through my hazy daze. Since we walked in five minutes ago, I had done nothing but search around the dance floor, by the bars, up towards the VIP rooms, and everywhere else to see if I could find anyone I recognized. Well I was more eager to see if I could find one person I recognized; I could care less about anyone else.
“Huh? What? Oh, yeah, I know.” I returned my attention to her, and she rolled her eyes before grabbing two shot glasses from the bartender.
She handed me one. “Here, this should loosen you up.” Tossing her head back, she chugged down the shot without hesitating. She scrunched her face for a second and wiggled her shoulders. “That was good!”
Shrugging, I saluted with my glass and chugged back the shot. The warm liquid soothed my throat but burned once it reached my chest. I shimmied like Megan hoping, it would help the burn. It didn’t. I was also sure by her amused expression that I made a sourpuss face. “Atta girl!” she shouted over the loud music.
We took a few more shots before heading to our VIP room. Nothing was different: it was exactly how I remembered it. Megan’s co-worker, Jasmine, was completely hammered by the time we entered. Her cousin, the one who works for the DeLuca firm, was there as well. To my surprise, I didn’t recognize her. Thank God! She probably worked in one of the other departments.
After some shots and a few Cosmos, I was beginning to loosen up. I hadn’t felt this good in a while. The room was occupied by fifteen other girls. Jasmine wore a pink and zebra print sash with “Birthday Girl” printed in glitter across it. Her tiara was slanted on her head. It had been straight at one point during the night.
The other girls were close to my age, and I was surprised to learn that we had a lot in common. Who knew that girls were actually fun to be around? As the night progressed, I bravely danced with them on the dance floor, took more shots, played karaoke in our private room, took more shots, danced some more, and had more shots!
Before I knew it I was laughing, really laughing. I hadn’t had this much fun since … Well I couldn’t even remember when I had this much fun! I was being myself again—something I thought would never happen. It was as if the cure was tequila, music, and a girl’s night. Could it be possible that my life would go back to normal? Could I eventually go a day without crying over him? And then it hit me—no, not a reverie—the aching and pounding of my bladder. Standing, I made my way to Megan and grabbed her arm. “I have to go to the bathroom, come with me!” I yelled over the music. She nodded and grabbed her clutch.
No matter how modern and huge a club is, there is always a line at the ladies’ room. I was considering going to the first level where the dance floor was. Though not wanting to chance losing my spot, I stayed put. Staring at the men’s bathroom across from me, I even highly considered walking in. There was no line, and I had yet to see anyone go in or out. Megan must’ve sensed my thoughts as she stared also at the men’s bathroom door. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I nodded.
“Come on then.” Grabbing my arm, she dragged me across the hall. Stretching her other hand, she reached for the door. Before she was able to touch it, the door swung open. Losing balance, she released my grip and fell into a firm athletic male. Megan’s scared-then-pleased expression forced me to burst into laughter. She giggled as she flexed her fingers along the muscular bicep. Looking over her shoulder at me, she wiggled her eyebrows. It made me laugh even harder. She finally looked up at the man she had landed on, and I followed her gaze.
My mouth dropped, and I stood frozen. My laughter instantly came to a halt, and I believe my heart stopped beating.
“Hello, Mia.” The familiar voice brought my chest back to life and sped up my heart. Extending his arms and firm grip around Megan’s shoulders, Jimmie pulled her away. She looked up at him and then back down at me.
Standing between us, she studied me as I stared into his light green eyes. “Do you know him, Mia?” She asked, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. When I nodded, her smile broadened, and fixing her attention back on him, she patted his shoulder. “Good, so you don’t mind if we hit the men’s room? The ladies’ room is kind of occupied.” She thumbed the long line of females.
“Knock yourself out. It’s empty.” He stepped aside, holding the door open for us to go in.
She jogged into one of the stalls. He was holding the door for me, and I looked up at him again. “How are you? How’s Elle?” I really wanted to know how they were doing, but my head was screaming, “How’s your brother doing?”
“I’m good, and she’s doing well. She asks about you all the time. She brings up this girls’-day-at-the-mall thing a lot.”
Oh my God. I forgot all about that. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Jimmie! I promised her before Marcus and I—”
Cutting me off, Jimmie said, “Don’t worry about it, Mia.” I looked down ashamed. “Uh, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. You’re a difficult woman to get a hold of
these days.”
I brought my eyes back to his. “Well, I changed my number.”
I had to do it. Shamefully, I have to admit that I never memorized Marcus’ number. He programmed it himself on my phone, and since then I just searched his name when we contacted each other. Though after our break-up, I didn’t trust myself. I was afraid that I would send him late-night texts or “accidently” call him and hang up. It made the healing process more difficult, so I got a new phone and a new number in the hopes that it would keep me from thinking of him. It didn’t work, of course.
He nodded. “Mia, can I talk to you in private?”
Biting my lip, I hesitated. My buzz was beginning to wear off. That wasn’t good. I nodded. “Sure, let me just use the bathroom, and then we can talk.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for you here.”
I trotted into one of the stalls, passing by Megan as she washed her hands. “Who was that hottie?” she asked.
Lifting my dress, I pulled down my thong and peed. Ah, that feels good. “Some guy I know.”
“Was he the one that broke your heart?”
“No, his brother was.” I mumbled as I pulled my underwear back on and flushed the toilet. Opening the door, I found her leaning against the counter, arms and legs crossed. I made my way beside her and washed my hands.
Turning her head, she looked at me. “Are you going to be okay with him alone?”
I didn’t realize she’d overheard our conversation. Then again he kept the door open, and our voices weren’t extremely low either. Shrugging, I walked towards the hand dryer. “Yeah, he’s safe. No worries.”
She nodded.
After my hands dried, a man walked in and gave us the am-I-in-the-right-place look. We giggled as we walked out the door. Jimmie was leaning against the wall when we exited. Megan hung her hand around my shoulder and leaned in to whisper. “Oh my God, he is truly gorgeous. Maybe you should put a good word in for me.”
“Megan, he’s like ten years older than you.” Although Jimmie didn’t look it, he was. He was thirty-three, and she was my age.
“So, I love older men. They’re more experienced.” She winked. I couldn’t do anything but laugh at her. “Okay, well I’ll meet you back in the VIP room, but if you take too long, I’ll be looking for you with a police escort and all.”
Laughing, I lightly slapped her arm. “I’ll be fine. Go have fun.” She glanced at Jimmie when she passed him, noticeably eyeing him up and down. He laughed and shook his head at her boldness. She was too much. Still laughing, he looked over at me and slightly smiled.
“You look good, Mia.”
“Thanks, Jimmie, you don’t look so bad yourself.” I said, nudging his arm with my elbow.
We walked down the hall of the second level of the club, passing by several VIP rooms. I followed him till we reached the very end. He entered a room, and I followed behind. To my surprise, I had never been in there before. It was different than the others. Double in size, on one end there was a sectional and flat screen TV set up, and on the other end there was a long dining table large enough to fit over ten people. There was also a small kitchenette along the wall, complete with a stove, dishwasher, fridge, and a very small counter space.
Jimmie took a seat by the edge of the sectional. I walked over by the glass wall overlooking the dance floor. Crossing my arms, I watched the crowded club as couples danced and a group of women in one corner celebrated a bachelorette party with the bride-to-be wearing a veil and taking shot after shot. In the other corner, a man and woman were practically having sex with their clothes on by a private table. It dawned on me as I watched my surroundings I had never seen Jimmie here before, nor had I heard him talk about coming here.
“I never thought of you as the clubbing type,” I said, turning to finally face him.
He raised a brow. “I don’t do clubbing.”
“Then why are you here?”
Tilting his head, he stared at me for a moment. It was a look of surprise that I didn’t know. “We come here either before or after a job to discuss plans.”
Ah. Wait, so that meant Marcus came to the club a lot then. Huh, I guess there was always something new to find out. Nodding, I made my way over to the sectional and sat opposite from him. “So what did you want to talk about?” Hopefully I sounded casual.
“Well, for starters, I wanted to say how sorry I was to hear about the miscarriage. I know that must’ve been hard.” I nodded. Jimmie and Jeremy were the only two that knew about the pregnancy before the miscarriage.
“Also, I wanted to say, uh … Marcus told me he kind of slipped some information to you about Lou and our father.”
Standing up preparing myself to leave, I looked down at him. “Don’t worry, Jimmie; I won’t say anything if that’s what you thought.” I knew it. He was trying to cover his ass.
“No, no. Please sit.” Glaring at him, I warily sat back down. “I wanted to explain it to you in a way without giving too much information.”
“How come you can do that and Marcus can’t?”
Rubbing his hand through his buzz-cut hair, he exhaled deeply. “Well, because Marcus doesn’t know how to say something without giving too much away. And around you, he’s weak Look, he didn’t ask me to speak with you, if that’s what you think. I offered to talk to you for him, but he refused, and I’m slowly growing desperate. He’s out of control now, drinking constantly, careless on jobs. I don’t know how to handle him anymore.”
“Oh?” I thought of that night when Marcus came home completely drunk. He was so different. It was as if someone else had taken over him. He must be miserable, and for him to be careless on a job means he doesn’t care if his own life is taken. My heart fluttered at the thought.
“Yeah, look, I’m just going to say this in the simplest possible way. A few years ago, we received information that Lou was responsible for our father’s death. At first we didn’t believe it because he’s practically family. Well the more info we received, the more evidence was built against him. That’s when I met your brother. He was privately working on the Sorrento’s file for years, trying to take them down. His sergeant wanted him to stop working on the case, but he grew addicted. See the Sorrentos are very careful: they watch how they spend their money, who they do business with. But Lou only trusts two people: Marcus and me. He’d never think we’d turn on him. So we began to work with your brother. It grew irritating at first. We gave him a great deal of evidence, but he said it wasn’t enough to take Lou down. It was just enough to take some of the Sorrentos down. He said that for this kind of case, you needed years of evidence and piles of documents, so the feds could step in and take over. Anyways, we grew impatient, and your brother grew sloppy. That’s when Lou started looking more into your brother. When he found out he worked as a Boston detective, he took him out and told us we had to be careful whom we talked to because the entire time we were “clueless” about him. I’m truly sorry about your brother, Mia.
“We didn’t know Lou was going to do it. He took it upon himself. If we had any indication, we would’ve warned Michael. Trust me, we would have.”
Blankly staring at him, I managed to speak, “So you tried to set Lou up?” He nodded. “And what happens now?”
Looking down, he lightly shrugged. “We’re working on that.” Meeting my gaze again, he pressed his lips together and creased his eyebrows.
“What do you want me to do, Jimmie?” I asked. There was a reason he was telling me this: a reason why everything made so much sense now even though there were still so many black holes that needed to be filled.
“Talk to Marcus. When he’s with you, everything is better in his world. Now he’s lost.”
Nodding, I stared at his face again. “Okay.” I let out a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”
Jimmie walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. “Thank you so much, Mia. Everything is going to be okay. Trust me.” I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself
or me.
We ended our hug and made our way towards the door. We stopped when the door handle jiggled and the door swung wide open. My heart sank when I saw him. Marcus was in black pants and a white button-down shirt with his latest accessory, a bleach-blond, overly-tanned chick with her arms wrapped snuggly around his neck. He leaned her into the inner doorway as they sloppily made out. I wanted to throw up. I studied them in disgust. He seemed to be getting by just fine to me! I snapped my head at Jimmie, and he closed his eyes and mumbled, “Fuck.”
I heard the female giggle, and I turned back to them. Marcus turned his head, and his grin widened when he saw Jimmie. “Hey, Bro …” Then his head moved, and he spotted me. Extending his neck, he blinked a few times. When he realized it was me, his mouth dropped open. Trying to swallow, he pulled away from the girl. Leaning his hand against the door, he tried to keep himself balanced. He was completely trashed.
After a few seconds, he adjusted his flickering eyes. “Mia? You look beautiful.” The last word was a slur. I barely made it out.
My eyes flashed from him to the girl he’d just sucked face with. Her orange complexion, fake blue eyes, and her bleach-blond hair, which I was sure was also fake, stared back at me. She tilted her head to study the woman he just complimented. Her size D boobs with any slight movement would pop from her extremely tight and short pink minidress. Her overly plump lips covered in pink lip gloss, which were far too light for her orange complexion, smacked together as she chewed on gum.
Reaching for her hair, she curled a piece of extension with a finger. “She’s cute, is she going to join us, Marky?” Her bubbly, high-pitched Boston accent brought my anger level from a five to an easy twelve within two-point-five seconds. What made it worse was the name she called him. Hearing the nickname his family used on her lips placed a fireball in the pit of my stomach.
Oh, I was beyond pissed. Snapping my head back in his direction, I crossed my arms. “Really!”
It took him a moment to process what was going on. He stared at me forever before he looked back at her and laughed. He laughed! “Oh no sweetie, she’s not joining us. I think you should go, though,” he said to her.