Finding Home: A Club Dark Novel Page 9

  “Come here.” He gently gathers me up in a hug. “Talk to me,” he whispers while rubbing slow circles on my back, effectively calming my nerves and my tears. He reaches for my hand and walks me over to the couch. “What’s going through that head of yours?” he asks gently. It takes a few deep breaths before I’m calm enough to talk.

  “I just can’t seem to piece all of this together. Everything was perfect, at least that’s what I thought. Where did I go wrong?” That’s meant more as a statement than a question, but Cory answers anyway.

  “Nowhere. If anything, the only thing I can see you doing wrong is falling in love with a jerk like him. Any man would be lucky to have you. And he’s stupid for screwing that up.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer so I can rest my head on his chest.

  I take a moment to breathe him in, taking in his unique masculine scent. It’s rugged and all man, and I’d swear there’s a hint of vanilla in there too. Whatever it is, I’m content with just lying here and breathing him in. Silly right? I feel myself start to relax and in that moment I realize that Cory is right. I don’t deserve any of this. I was always good to Aaron, so again, I question where it went wrong.

  Cory lays back into the couch, pulling me down so I’m practically on top of him, but it doesn’t feel sexual. I feel protected like he truly cares about me. He rubs circles on my back again, and I feel myself relax even deeper. Soon my body starts to feel heavy, and I drift off to sleep.

  When I wake up, I’m still laying on the sofa, but Cory’s gone. Lying right beside my head is a small note.

  Miss Carter,

  I’m terribly sorry I had to run out, I’m still here but I’m afraid I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on. I’ll be in my office right down the hall if you need anything.

  Cory

  Well, okay then. I’m kind of lost at what to do with myself. It’s getting boring just sitting around this house day in and day out. I’m starting to feel trapped and restless.

  I’m sitting on the bed contemplating what my next step is going to be; I can’t just stay in this house forever with nothing to do and no purpose in life. I’m startled out of my thoughts by the ringing of my phone across the room. I haven’t used the thing in a few weeks; I completely forgot I even had one. Looking down at the screen, I see that it’s Amber. I haven’t spoken to her in a while, so I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see what she wants.

  “Hi, Amber,” I say, trying to sound happy. Honestly, I still don’t know where we stand after that night.

  “Hey, Lacey. How are you doing sweetie?” Her voice sounds friendly which puts a smile on my face. Sure Cory has been kind to me, but I’ve missed having a friend.

  “I’m fine. Just learning to adjust. Everything okay on your end?” I’m not really sure what to say. As much as I’d like to be friends and make conversation, I’m not really sure how to.

  “Oh yes. Well, mostly. Cory has hired a third bartender. She’s supposed to help lighten the load for me and Torrance, the bar back. But the girl is such a damn klutz. She really should’ve come with her own warning label,” she says, trying to hide her laughter, and I can’t help but laugh with her. Maybe this whole friend thing won’t be so hard after all.

  “Anyway, I didn’t call to poke fun at the new girl. I was actually calling to see if I could get you to come eat dinner with me? I know this great pub in town and they make a killer Philly.” Part of me wants to say no, after all, the last time I went out with her things didn’t really turn out so well for me. But I really need to get out a bit before I go stir crazy. Besides, what can go wrong with just grabbing food?

  “Sure, but you’ll have to pick me up. My car is still at the apartment.” I hope Cory doesn’t get upset when he finds out I’m leaving, oh well.

  “Give me about thirty minutes. And, Lacey? Thank you.” She hangs up before I can even get out a reply.

  I guess since I’m going out into the real world I should probably put some decent clothes on. After spending a few minutes looking for something to wear, I hop in the shower and then do my hair. I look in the mirror and examine myself for a second to make sure I look okay, and once I determine I look as good as I’m going to I grab my purse and head for the door. I wasn’t going to disturb Cory, but he’s probably going to worry if he ever comes out of this office and I’m not here.

  Tapping on his office door, butterflies start to form in my belly at the thought of finally seeing the inside of Cory’s office. A low come in resounds from the other side of the door, giving me permission to enter.

  Pushing through the door, my eyes make instant contact with his, but only briefly, I’m too curious about where he likes to hide out. The room itself is very rustic and homely, for some reason, I pictured it to be corporate and sterile. There’s wall to wall book shelves lining two of the four walls. One to my left and right, and each stock full. Behind him is a wall of windows with a door opening up to a beautiful terrace, I can make out a peek of flowers in the distance making it appear like a garden. I’ll have to get him to show it to me.

  Glancing back at Cory, my breath catches in my throat. This man always seems to render me speechless, and seeing him sitting behind his cherry oak desk looking all professional, is no different. Forcing myself to breathe, I take in his amused expression and decide to give him one of my own.

  He chuckles softly, making them butterflies from before flutter. “You look refreshed, Miss Carter, did you enjoy your nap?” I hop up on the desk in front of him, careful not to ruffle his papers. A deep groan escapes his lips and a thrill runs through me, enjoying the enticing game I now find myself playing. “My sleep was just fine, Mister Lewis,” I emphasize his name, knowing it’ll drive him crazy, “and how has your evening been?” I give him a sultry look then slowly slide my hand to his thigh. “You’re playing with fire here sweetheart.” He says as his strong hand engulfs my wrist. Riding the high this little exchange has given me, I lean in real close and place my other hand on his other thigh, placing myself between his legs. With my mouth just inches from his, I softly mutter, “I love the burn.” before walking away. Looking back over my shoulder, I take great delight in the shocked look that’s fell across his face, and then add “Amber and I are going to town to catch up, I’ll be back in a few hours.” Without another word, I head for the front door to meet Amber.

  We arrive at a small plaza right outside of Seattle. There’s a Safeway grocery store and a Dollar Tree. Nestled between the two is Alexander’s Pub. Reminds me of one of those family-owned hole in the wall restaurants which tend to have the best food and company.

  We head inside where my suspicions are confirmed, it is indeed a little hole in the wall place. First thing I see when we walk in is an old worn looking bar with maybe twelve to fifteen bar stools surrounding it. More than half are occupied. The bartender looks up as we enter; he’s got a beer mug in one hand and a towel in the other, drying the inside of the mug. “Welcome to Alexander’s, please help yourself to a seat and I’ll be right with you,” he says in a very scripted voice. Charming.

  Looking around, I notice the place is practically empty, the only people here are the ones seated at the bar. We head for a booth in the back corner and as we approach, I get an unsettling feeling like I’m being watched. Glancing around, no one stands out, but every hair on my body stands at attention and I’m on high alert. This doesn’t feel right.

  I take the seat against the back wall so I have a full view of the entire place and can keep an eye on everything going on. I’m starting to feel very paranoid, and I know it’s just the fear from what happened a few weeks ago, so I try and calm myself down. Breathe, Lacey, Breathe, you are fine. I tell myself over and over like my own little mantra. I take a deep breath and try to divert my attention to Amber. She sits down across from me, and I take in her appearance for the first time today. I notice she has her hair piled on top of her head in one of those messy buns. I never can seem to get them things right, but on her, it looks perfect. Her clo
thes are actually on the subtle side today which surprises me. She’s in a pair of skinny jeans and a blue tank top. There’s hardly any makeup on her face making her look even more beautiful than she did before. Honestly, if you don’t need it, why wear it? And she definitely doesn’t need it, she’s beautiful.

  The air between us is awkward, to say the least, neither of us knowing what to say to the other. She’s the first to break the silence, “How’s everything going?” I can’t tell if she’s asking because she really wants to know or because she doesn’t know what else to say, but I answer anyway.

  “Okay, I guess. Besides the constant paranoia and the awful feeling of not knowing, I can’t really complain. Cory has been beyond amazing through all of this, but it feels like I’m stuck in limbo,” I say, not really meaning to dump so much on her, and I especially don’t mean to sound so bitchy when I’m talking. Logically I know none of this is her fault, but I can’t help feeling a little bitter toward her. Not only was she the one who invited me out that night, but she was also the one making my drinks. I think subconsciously I just need someone to blame, and she is the easier target. Besides, it’s been weeks since she’s even checked on me to see how things were going and if I was okay, and that stings a little. I know we only knew each other a few hours before everything happened but still.

  She looks like she’s about to say something, but our waitress walks up. I look up at the woman and I can’t help but feel a little sorry for her, she looks completely worn out. She has deep dark circles under her eyes and her hair is a frazzled mess, but she still puts forth the effort to smile at us before taking our orders. I have to commend her for her strength. She clearly looks like she’s having it rough right now, but still, she’s pressing on with a smile on her face.

  “What can I do for you ladies this evening? Might I suggest our signature Reuben? Our corned beef briskets are sliced and cooked fresh daily. We make our own secret sauce and pick only the finest of cheeses. It’s served on fresh rye and your choice of soup. It also pairs perfectly with our house-crafted Ale.” Like the bartender, she sounds like she’s reading from a script. I really want to like this place, but damn if these people don’t reek of boredom.

  “That sounds perfect for me, any soup will do. I’d also love a martini, dry please,” Amber says.

  “I’ll just have a grilled chicken Caesar salad and an ice water with fresh lemon please.” Sorry, but no alcohol for me. I just don’t trust it. I feel a vibration in my pocket and pull my phone out to see there’s a text from Cory. It’s nice to see your spirit has returned. Are you sure you can handle the heat? I feel my cheeks warm as I smile, all but forgetting I’m in the presence of others. Sliding my phone back in my pocket without responding, I turn my attention back to the waitress.

  "I’ll have your drinks right out; your food should only take a few minutes.” Our waitress, whom I’m just now realizing has no name tag nor does she offer to introduce herself, gathers our menus and walks away.

  “Is it just me, or does little miss sunshine have a stick up her ass?” And just like that, some of the tension between us just melts away.

  “Seems like everyone in this joint could use some unwinding or a few strong drinks.” We laugh and I start to relax; getting out of that house and having a normal day is exactly what I needed.

  “Maybe sunshine and gloomy over there are secret lovers and he’s mad because she won’t suck his popsicle.” O.M.G, I think as I burst out laughing. That’s probably the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.

  “Seriously,” she begins, and there is a note of seriousness in her voice that wasn’t there moments ago. I look up at her face and notice her expression is back to looking indifferent. At least that’s how I would describe it. “I’m sorry I haven’t checked in on you. I just didn’t know what I would say. We really don’t know each other, and I feel like I’ve ruined what chance we might have had at building a friendship. I still feel somewhat responsible that you got hurt on my watch.” She sounds so vulnerable and so sincere that it makes my chest ache for the guilt she has. I can tell she’s not used to showing this side of herself to other people.

  After hearing her voice, the regret and sorrow in it, I realize how stupid I’ve been acting. Would I love to have someone to blame? Yes, of course. But this does not fall on her. And I will damn well make sure Cory sees that too. She was only being nice and helping me get acquainted with my new home. I have no right for faulting her when she was just trying to be a good person. She even tried to warn me about taking it easy on the drinks, and I dismissed her. Sure I was drugged and I didn’t just consume too much alcohol, but perhaps had I listened to her and paced myself I might have noticed that something was off with my drink.

  “Amber, this is in no way your fault. If anything, it’s mine. I’m a big girl and should’ve been paying better attention.” I reach my hand across the table and rest it on her arm, trying to convey to her that I’m serious.

  “Yeah, but I was serving your drinks, and Cory had specifically asked me to keep an eye on you. I screwed up, and I’m really lucky to have my job right now.” The look on her face says she’s close to tears, and all I want to do is reassure her and make her feel better.

  “Why would you even think that? The place was packed; you couldn’t have your eyes on me the whole time, not to mention that you shouldn’t have had to, I’m an adult, Amber, it was my responsibility to protect myself especially in a new city and a new club. And that amount of pressure shouldn’t have been laid on your shoulders.” I keep going, trying to figure out the right words to say to her; the ones that will ease the guilt she feels, but then she puts her hand up asking me to let her speak.

  “I don’t think it’s about blame with Cory. He likes control, and right now, he doesn’t feel like he has any. He feels like I’m the one who should’ve been paying better attention to you.”

  At the mention of Cory’s name, I feel a blush start to rise up my face and my heart starts to race. I feel ridiculous, never in my life have I acted like this about a guy, and I really hope that Amber doesn’t notice my reaction.

  “I have known Cory for a long time now, and I have never seen him so protective of someone so quickly. Sure he takes care of all of his girls and makes sure that things at the club run smoothly, but he has never made it a point to tell me to watch out for someone, and I’ve certainly never seen him take a girl home before.” I really want her to continue what she is saying, but just then our waitress comes walking over to bring us our drinks followed by a young boy carrying a tray with our food.

  He can’t be any older than fourteen or fifteen. He places our food on the table, giving Amber my salad and her sandwich to me. He gives us a shy smile and walks back to the kitchen behind the bar.

  “Sorry about that,” our nameless waitress says as she switches our plates. “That’s my son, Calvin. He likes to help sometimes when his dad gets drunk.” Now I understand why she looks so tired and weary. If she and her son are having to pick up the slack after dear old daddy, that can wear a person down.

  “Thank you,” Amber and I say together.

  The food smells great, and I waste no time diving in. I must say, despite the depressing tone this place seems to carry, their salad is probably the best I’ve ever tasted. They must make their own dressing to, it has a certain…flair to it.

  “You were right. It’s not a Philly, but their food is great.” While I’m chewing my food I take a minute to look around again and notice that in the brief time that Amber and I have been talking the place has really filled up. There’s almost no seating available, and at least three other waitresses are now taking orders. I can see the kid, Calvin, is now zooming in and out of the kitchen. One second, he’s carrying drinks, the next another tray of food. I really feel sorry for the kid.

  “When did all these people get here?” I ask, laughing. I can’t believe I got so lost in our conversation that I would lose focus of my surroundings.

  Interrupting my inte
rnal rambling, Amber answers the question I forgot I’d asked. “I’m not sure, but seems like little Calvin over there is getting a little action.” She makes kissy faces and points across the room to where the kid is standing in front of an older lady. She appears to be pinching his cheeks. People still do that? Poor kid.

  Getting back to the conversation we were having before our food arrived I ask, “How has Cory been at work?” I’m genuinely curious. When she said he likes control, I didn’t really see it. Sure, he’s got this dark, brooding, sexy thing going on, but he hasn’t struck me as a control freak. Then again, I don’t work for him.

  “Mostly, he seems to be okay. But you can tell it’s eating at him. I mean, how does someone get access to a secure security feed and do it completely undetected? That by itself is enough to throw him off his rocker. Couple that with what happened with you, and I’m afraid the man is certifiable,” she says with a laugh, but quickly gets serious again.

  “He’s really tightened up security around there, and I think it’s scaring people away. There’s a man at every door. No one can enter or leave without consenting to a search. Anyone carrying drugs is automatically blacklisted from ever joining the club again. He’s also added two more bartenders and a barback, which really sucks because that cuts my hours, customers, and income.” Amber might hate all of this, but besides cutting her hours, I find it hard to feel bad over any of it. Maybe I can talk to Cory about what Amber can do to earn her hours.