Trigger Page 6

  “Let’s split,” I said.

  “Fine. Where do you wanna go?”

  “Let’s head to Cheetah’s.”

  Jack stared at me, a baffled look on his face. “Cheetah’s? I thought you told me you’d decided strip clubs were demeaning to women.”

  “I changed my mind. Let’s go.”

  I paid the tab and a few minutes later Jack and I were in a cab, on our way to the popular West L.A. strip club. I’d worry about getting my car later.

  The joint was as hopping as always when we entered. An old Rod Stewart song was playing and it smelled faintly of pot and cigarettes. Men but also a few women were scattered around the long catwalk at the end of the dark space. An assortment of girls wearing only tiny G-strings paraded on the catwalk. A girl who looked Hispanic was bending over, flaunting her shapely behind to a bunch of eager frat boys in a corner, while another girl with straight blond hair lay on her back, her long legs spread wide apart. Two older men and a young woman seemed spellbound by the girl’s pose. The strategically placed disco balls overhead reflected the lights coming from several spotlights, adding a layer of glamor to the girls that made them appear even more seductive.

  A tan, voluptuous woman with a shock of black curls appeared. She wore an inviting smile and a sequined purple dress so short it barely covered her crotch. Jack instantly took her hand and kissed her on the cheek, mumbling something in her ear that made her giggle. I shouldn’t be surprised. Cheetah had remained Jack’s favorite hangout after all, so he must know most of the girls fairly well. Just like I used to do more than a year ago. I’d stopped going to strip clubs and the like after falling for Emma and realizing how unhappy I was going out all the time, hooking up with a new girl most nights.

  The tan woman took us to a table close to the front of the long catwalk. Prime seats. I chuckled to myself. Jack must have spent plenty of money in this joint for that to happen.

  We sat and I gave the busty waitress who immediately showed up our drink orders. Very soon, we were on our second round of drinks and a petite redhead with the tiniest waist I had ever seen on a girl came up and asked if I wanted a lap dance.

  I shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  Smiling pleased, the girl took my hand and nodded toward a dark corner filled with couches. A couple of strippers were gyrating over people seated there already. Without a word, I stood and followed the redhead toward the corner. When we got there, she gently pushed me down on an empty couch, turned her back to me and began moving her hips above my knees in a seductive manner. As if hypnotized, I stared at her rocking hips, at the tiny waist and the very round, very white buttocks as they moved to the music. Even though I had to admit the girl had a great ass, watching her dance failed to excite me. After about thirty seconds she turned around, facing me. Our eyes met. It was sometime when she placed her hands on my chest, smiling tentatively, that I realized that she was probably not even out of her teens yet. Suddenly, I felt like a dirty old man, taking advantage of girls who were much too young for me. I grabbed my wallet and fished out a hundred-dollar bill. I shoved it into the girl’s hand and then moved her aside, telling her I had to leave.

  Five minutes later, I was sitting alone in another cab, on my way home.

  Nina

  I didn’t sleep much that night. All I could think about was Dylan, the way he’d looked when I left Bliss, having told him I couldn’t have dinner with him. Only as I returned home and slipped into bed after my meal with Ricki did the expression on his face fully sink in.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen anyone look so genuinely disappointed.

  Yeah, the guy definitely didn’t have a stalker vibe…I flipped over so I was lying on my side. Putting my hands under my chin, I stared into the darkness that filled my bedroom. Was Ricki right about me freaking out only because I feared intimacy? The more I thought about all that she had said tonight, the more sense her comments made. I mean, what else besides a fear of getting close to a man could that panic attack have been about? It was true that I was very attracted to Dylan. Seeing him again had reminded me of that. Even as his unexpected appearance had unsettled me, it had also excited me to the point that my legs had moved me closer to him. It had been as if they had a life of their own. My body is trying to tell me something… I giggled to myself in the darkness. I also had to agree with Ricki that his words in the email—-she’d made me show her the email on my smartphone—-could only be described as sweet, the kind a man tells a woman when he cares about her. Like she’d kept saying, the only reason a guy would send such an email to a girl was because he’d realized there was something special between them, worth exploring further. Yes, he had to have realized that. Why else would he come all the way down to Bliss to talk to me, ask me out to dinner?

  Why else would he have seemed so incredibly disappointed?

  Guys who only wanted sex didn’t behave that way. I had been around long enough to know how those guys behaved. Slept with a couple of them, too. Thinking about the last one, a chef I’d met while filling up my car, creeped me out now, even though I hadn’t been looking for anything but a fun time and he was all about that. I remembered how sexy I thought he had looked with his beard stubble, sideways grin and curly brown hair. How flattered I’d felt when he practically undressed me with his eyes as we started talking. How much I’d enjoyed the suggestive note in everything he said, even in things as clinical as “does that kind of car require regular unleaded or plus?” referring to my old Toyota. It had been his pick-up line and I had played along instantly, ending up having a fling with him that lasted a couple weeks. Now, in hindsight, he seemed a lot more slimy than sexy if I was going to be honest with myself.

  I rolled over on my back. Dylan might have freaked me out, but he was definitely not a slimy guy. Square and uptight, yes, but not a creepy slimeball. I should see him again, talk to him, find out if it was in fact fear of getting too close to him that had triggered my strong reaction. Sometime while pondering this I must have fallen asleep, because that was the last thing I remembered when I woke up the following morning, Sam sniffing my face with his wet nose.

  Stretching out my body and yawning big, I thought about seeing Dylan again. When I had finished thinking about it, examined the idea in my head as well as in my heart, I felt even more sure it was the right decision. How else would I find out what had freaked me out like that? And I really did want to get to the bottom of it. But I would wait a few days before I contacted him. Hopefully, he would try to get in touch with me another time. If he didn’t, I had no choice but to email him myself.

  Dylan

  The sun had already set when I pulled into my parking lot outside my apartment building. It had been a long day and I was beat, dying to stretch out on the couch in my living room and watch a movie that didn’t require too much intellectual involvement. I didn’t want to think, just watch something easy to understand to give my brain a rest. I’d spent the previous twelve hours trying to dissect a legal contract. Not only did I not succeed with my task, but the contract had eventually made my head pound.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, announcing either an incoming text or email.

  I sighed. It must be Reiss’s assistant who wanted me to do something. The mere thought of reading another contract tonight increased the throbbing in my head. I’d check the message when I got up to my place.

  Collapsing on my leather couch, I fished out the phone from my suit pocket and checked who’d contacted me. I almost dropped the phone when I saw who the email was from. My heart hammered in my chest.

  Nina. Whom I’d done my best not to think about since seeking her out at Bliss four days ago. It had been a futile effort, but I’d hoped that, if I gave it some more time, I’d eventually forget her. I wasn’t going to try to see her again. What could she possibly want?

  I opened the email.

  Hi Dylan,

  Thanks for coming to see me last Thursday. I’ll admit that I was a little shocked, but now
that I’ve gotten some time to think about it, I’ve realized that I’m happy you came. I would love to have dinner with you and get to know you a little better, too. So let me know if you still want to.

  Nina

  I read the email a few more times to make sure it wasn’t just my brain playing a trick on me, conjuring up words that weren’t there. Then, when I was sure it was for real, I no longer felt tired but exhilarated and the pounding in my head was gone. A big grin had spread over my lips.

  I clicked reply and typed in a message:

  Hi Nina! I’d love to take you out for dinner. How about tomorrow night?

  I didn’t have to wait long until a reply appeared in my phone.

  Sure, tomorrow is good. When and where?

  I fired off a reply:

  If you’d like, I could come and pick you up at eight and then we’ll go together somewhere? Or we can meet at the restaurant?

  My phone buzzed with her response.

  Let’s meet at the restaurant. Just let me know where and I’ll be there.

  I sent an email telling Nina I’d let her know the location tomorrow and that I was looking forward to seeing her again. Then I turned on the TV, feeling better than I had in a long time.

  Nina

  I spent some hours the next day feeling absolutely sure I’d made a huge mistake in contacting Dylan, others so excited I couldn’t help but grin like a fool. That last part proved to be of great use since it coincided with my lunch shift at the restaurant. My customers responded fabulously to my happy demeanor by giving me mostly better-than-average tips.

  When I was done at McCormick and Schmick’s, I jumped into my car and drove in the direction of Ricki’s job, a non-profit organization that helped the homeless called Invisible People. She was lending me a dress for tonight, a hot red number that fit me like a glove. Since her job was located on the way to my mom’s house in Downtown L.A. and I had to go down to see her this afternoon, it was easier for me to go there instead of to Ricki’s house tonight to pick it up.

  My car stereo was playing a Beyonce song I loved, so I cranked up the volume, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel along with the beat. At the moment, I was riding another wave of elation, so I smiled at the aging, pale woman in the black convertible next to me at the stop light. She was looking like she was having a bad day. Maybe I could cheer her up a little.

  She didn’t smile back, only glared at me like she thought I must be nuts. She must be a New York transplant. Most New Yorkers I’d met were on the grumpy side. Well, her demeanor didn’t faze me. It was only as I turned back to face the road in front of me that my smile left my lips. Pain was suddenly shooting through my head.

  I rubbed my temple with my free hand. Damn. It had been a while since I’d experienced any kind of headaches. I really hoped it wouldn’t get any worse or I might have to cancel my date with Dylan. That would be such a shame now that I’d decided that seeing him again was not only a good idea, but the sooner it happened, the better. I pulled out the pills the doctor had given me that I kept in my purse for when these random spells of headaches attacked me. It had been several months since the last one occurred, but I still never went anywhere without my pills. Experience had taught me that, in order to have a chance to quell the aches, I needed to catch them in their infancy as opposed to later, when they had matured, completely debilitating me. I hoped that very soon, they would go away forever, like the doctor had promised they would. But even if they didn’t, I knew I should be grateful the sporadic migraines were the only complication of the concussion I had experienced in high school. The rest of my brain seemed to function as well, if not better, than before.

  I popped the pill and swallowed it with the help of some water from the bottle I had brought with me. It didn’t take long before it was working and I was once again flying high on endorphins.

  Dylan

  I didn’t think I had ever been as nervous as when I was driving into the parking lot behind JiRaffe, the romantic French-American restaurant I had picked for my dinner with Nina. As I parked my car, my heart thumped in my chest and my gut flopped with crazed butterflies. Nina had continued to dominate my thoughts, and even though I didn’t get as much done at work as I’d liked, this time around I didn’t mind. In fact, I kind of liked it. I exhaled. It was almost scary how fast I was falling for this girl. Who would have ever thought so? Or that I’d be falling for her at all? But falling for her I was, and hard. I still could hardly believe that she had reached out to me, changed her mind so drastically about my dinner offer.

  I had arrived a few minutes early so I could have a quick drink to calm my nerves before meeting Nina, get familiar with the restaurant again. I remembered that last time I’d visited JiRaffe, I’d enjoyed the food and service so much that I made a mental note to bring a girl I wanted to impress there. Nina definitely fit that category.

  I walked into the establishment and told the hostess I was early for my dinner reservation and that I would wait in the bar for my date to arrive. Relieved to see that the bar was fairly empty, I sat on one of the chairs and ordered a gin and tonic from the bartender.

  As I sipped on my drink, my phone buzzed in my suit pocket. Fear gripped my heart, making me almost unable to check what the incoming message regarded. I was suddenly sure it was Nina contacting me, telling me that she couldn’t make it after all, that she had changed her mind about the dinner.

  With the utmost effort, I reached into my pocket and got out my phone. It was a text message from my younger sister, Elisa.

  I got the job!

  So glad it wasn’t Nina cancelling but only Elisa reporting she’d gotten the position at a financial firm she had sought and wanted so badly, I let out an audible gasp. The woman seated on the stool next to me gave me a funny look. I ignored her and typed a quick message to my sister.

  I knew you’d get it, E! Congrats!

  I smiled and put the phone back in my pocket. My sister was one of a kind, a go-getter who worked harder to get what she wanted than I did, and I worked pretty damn hard. At least compared to my buddies. Yeah, so Elisa and I were from an affluent family, but that didn’t really matter. Except for the fact that we’d had our admittedly stellar education paid for us, our parents had made it clear that we should not expect a free ride in life. To underscore this point, they had decided to give away most of the family’s wealth to charities after their death, providing practically no safety net for me and Elisa. I didn’t mind; I wanted to become a success in my own right anyway and I knew my sister did, too.

  I finished my drink and turned toward the entrance, just in time to see Nina walking into the restaurant. Wearing a red tight dress and her dark tresses piled on top of her head, she was looking even more gorgeous than I remembered. My heart thudding, I stood up. The bar had filled up since I got there and I wanted it to be easy for her to spot me. She walked into the bar area and our eyes met. I smiled wide, squaring my shoulders.

  “Hello, Nina.”

  She gave me a shy smile in return that suggested she was nervous, too. “Hi, Dylan.”

  I kissed her on the cheek. “You look beautiful. How about a drink before dinner?”

  “That sounds good.”

  Nina

  I told Dylan I wanted a glass of white wine and he turned toward the bar counter to order it. As he talked to the bartender, I let out the breath I had been holding pretty much since I left my apartment and drove over to this restaurant. So far I am still feeling like normal. Well, except for my heart beating faster than normal, but that I attributed to the fact that I was so attracted to Dylan, which made me nervous.

  I watched him as he paid for the drinks. He was wearing a dark suit jacket over a white shirt and jeans, and I couldn’t help but think that he really should consider modeling. He was so incredibly handsome! My eyes zeroed in on his beautiful hands and the hair that grew on his wrists, disappearing under his sleeves. To my surprise and delight, I shivered with pleasure. Oh, those hands knew exac
tly what to do with me in bed.

  A little smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Thank God he had sought me out, been so intent on seeing me again. This would all end the way Ricki had assured me when she’d called to wish me good luck tonight, better than I could ever imagine.

  He gave me my glass of wine, holding another in his other hand.

  “Thanks,” I said. We brought our glasses together, looking deep into each other’s eyes. The invisible pull toward him made me step a little closer to him. I inhaled his scent that was clean and unmistakably manly and smiled wider. Yes, definitely a good idea for me to decide to see him again…

  He smiled back, raising an eyebrow slightly. “You look like you’re thinking something.”

  “I was.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Sure. I was just thinking how glad I was that I agreed to go out with you again.”

  His gaze lit up. “Well, I’m glad, too. The only thing I regret is that I didn’t contact you sooner. So, how have you been?”

  I was about to disappear back into my usual edgy girl-persona, make a joke out of his question, but something about the way he kept looking at me—with such gentleness, such genuine openness—made me change my mind. It made me want to be the same way back. Sweet. Honest. Naked in every sense of that word.

  “I’ve been fine. Thinking about you a lot actually…. What about you? Busy at work?”

  “Yeah, kind of. It’s always busy.” He smirked. “The life of a corporate lawyer. All work and no play. Well, mostly. And you? Any more open mikes?”

  “Only once since Bliss unfortunately. I try to do at least one open mike a week. The more you’re on stage, the better you become. You know, practice makes perfect.”

  “Right. I really liked your material the other night, especially the stuff about Russians. I didn’t realize you were Russian. Do you speak Russian?”