L.A. Fire (21 page)

  “Well, hello,” she said, eyeing
us both critically. Angela flashed her a winning smile and said, “I really love
your dress, Elle.”

  She had on a slinky purple number
with a low scooped neckline. It actually was a nice dress. Elle took a slow sip
of her martini, and looked pleased with herself. “I look good in everything,”
she said, and I watched Angela avert her face and suppress a smirk.

  I admired Angela for the way she
handled Elle. She always knew how to be nice, and diffuse all of the bombs Elle
threw at her. I wish I had that much patience. With me, the bombs Elle threw
always ended up exploding.   

  Elle leaned forward to get a good
look at me. “Huh,” she said, putting a hand on her hip. “You look pretty good
too, Sarah.” Then she smirked and added, “for a hooker.” Her eyes were glinting
with vindictiveness, and I could tell she was just waiting for me to throw
something back at her.

   This one was too easy, so I
just resisted. “It’s escort, not hooker. And it’s a moot point, ‘cause no one
in this bar could afford me.”

  She scowled at me, then took a
sip of her champagne.

  “I could at least afford to
buy you a drink,” said a gruff, sexy voice behind me. I swiveled in my seat,
and locked eyes with a real hottie. He had an angular face, striking blue eyes,
and a naughty smile. He was wearing artfully faded blue jeans with a black
dress shirt. His build was lean and muscular, and when he leaned a bit closer,
I could smell his dry, woodsy cologne.

  I flashed him my most sultry
smile, and said “Sure.” Angela was right, I decided. I could at least try to
have some fun tonight. And a drink or two with a cute guy certainly couldn’t
hurt.

  “What are you having?” he asked.
I downed the rest of my drink, and then placed it forcefully down on the bar.
He laughed, and his eyes flickered with lust.

  “A whiskey sour,” I said,
crossing my legs, winking at Angela, and then swiveling around to face him. I
heard Angela chuckle behind me, and then whisper “Go get ‘em, tiger.” I felt a
touch of recklessness bubble up in me. I wanted to laugh and dance the night
away, and push the memory of Julian down, down, down. I didn’t want to think of
him. And this guy was the perfect distraction.

  He signaled to Pamela. “A whiskey
sour for the lady,” he said, openly eyeing the ample cleavage I had on display.
Then he leaned forward, and pushed my hair behind my back. I gave him a funny
look, and he said simply “it was ruining my view,” then ran his eyes over the
flesh he’d just exposed.

  I shook my head in wonder. “Wow,”
I said. “That was bold. Or ridiculously rude. I can’t decide which.”

  He shrugged and said, “How about
just plain old honest.” Then he ran his eyes all over me, slowly, from head to
toe, and said, “You’ve got to be the sexiest woman in this bar.”

  I shook my head again, and
chuckled under my breath. “How many times have you used that line tonight?” I
asked, cocking my head at an angle.

  “Twice,” he said frankly, “but
this is the first time I’ve actually meant it.” His tone was decisive, and I
could tell by his face that he meant it.

  I took a long slug of my whiskey
sour, downing almost half of it. I could already feel a pleasant buzz flooding
my body, making me feel giddy.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  I gave him a teasing look. “Does
it matter?” Then I took another long swig of my drink and said, “I wouldn’t
give you my real name anyway.”

  He laughed. “Fine,” he said.
“Then I’ll just call you ‘Hot Stuff.’”

  “Works for me,” I said, finishing
my drink. Just then he leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Wanna dance?”
He pulled back a few inches, with his lips hovering inches from mine. From this
close, I could smell the beer and cigarettes on his breath, and see that his
eyes were slightly bleary. 

  I pulled back, and slid off my
chair. “Let’s go,” I said, and started strutting toward the dance floor. They
were playing old school Britney, “Toxic.” A lot of the girls were going wild,
swinging their hips, doing little mini dance routines, acting like they were
center stage, and everyone was watching them. As soon as we got on the floor, I
started spinning around, shaking my arms and hips, feeling the booze totally go
to my head. Mr. Beer Breath was swaying back and forth, his lust-filled eyes
taking in my curves, my moves. Suddenly he grabbed me by the waist, pulled me
flat up against him, and started grinding. I could feel a slight bulge pressing
up against me through his pants.

  “You’re one hot bitch,” he said,
then leaned in and gave me a sloppy kiss. I pulled back, and twisted my head
away, and the next moment he was yanked, forcefully, away from me. I stumbled
back, then caught myself before I fell. When I looked up to see what was going
on, Julian was standing there, his face red, his expression livid, holding Mr.
Beer Breath by the scruff.

  “Keep your hands off my girl,” he
said, his voice sounding eerily calm.

  I glared back at Julian, and
crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not your girl,” I said icily.

  Mr. Beer Breath pulled out of
Julian’s grasp, and said “You hear that, fucker?” while smirking at Julian.
Then he leered at me and said, “Now come on, baby, where were we?”

  Julian grabbed him by the throat
and squeezed tight. Mr. Beer Breath’s eyes started to bulge, and he looked
scared. “Stay the fuck away from her, you hear me?” Julian said.  “If you
come anywhere close to her, I’ll punch your face in. Are we clear?” Julian
loosed his grip so the guy could speak.

  “Yeah, alright” he said, trying
to regain his composure. “You’re a fucking nut job,” he muttered under his
breath, and then took off.

  Julian took a step toward me, his
eyes blazing with anger and hurt. I stepped back, still holding my arms across
my chest. “He’s right, you know,” I said, staring him down. “You are a nut job.
That was totally insane. What were you thinking?”

  Julian’s gaze became fierce. “I
was protecting what was mine.”

  I let out a sharp laugh. “I’m not
yours, Julian. I think I made that very clear this morning. Now fuck off and
leave me alone. I’m through with this.” I turned on my heel, but he grabbed me,
and pulled me close. His warm, masculine smell, the feel of his strong arms around
me, made me want to melt into him. But then I had a flash of Megan sitting in
the car with him this afternoon, the two of them engrossed in an intimate
conversation, and I tried to struggle out of his grasp.

  “Sarah,” he said, almost
desperately. I turned to look at him, surprised by the pleading tone in his
voice. His eyes were pained, earnest. “Please just hear me out.”

  I hesitated for a moment, but
then my guard went up again, and I became resolute. “Actions speak louder than
words, Julian. And I saw you in the car this afternoon. And I saw the look on
your face when Megan walked in on us this morning. You’re not over her. You
still have feelings for her.”

  Julian shook his head slightly,
and held me tight. “You misunderstood what you saw, Sarah. That look you saw
was regret. I regretted the way things ended with her. But that doesn’t mean
I’m still pining for her.”

  I looked at him doubtfully. “Paul
told me you were on the rebound. He told me you were still hung up on Megan.”

  Julian let out a long sigh,
and  his eyes flickered with annoyance. “If I’m hung up about anything,
it’s the way things ended with her. The way I ended it with her. Paul obviously
didn’t present you with a clear picture.”

  “No, I guess not. So why don’t
you enlighten me?”

  Julian’s face relaxed slightly,
and he took my hand. “Come on. Let’s go the VIP section. We can talk about
everything there.”

  A waitress led us to long grey
velvet couch in a private corner. I reluctantly settled in on the couch,
crossing my legs, and angling my body away from Julian. He noticed my body
language, and looked pained again.

  “So tell me about Megan,” I said.
“It’s only fair, seeing how you know everything about Rob.”

  Julian eyed me carefully. “Megan
and I were together for three months, and at first I was totally smitten with
her. She was beautiful, vivacious, smart. But she was so highly defended. She
was always acting, always playing a part. Even around me. I kept seeing
glimmers of something, a vulnerability, a warmth, a playfulness. But as soon as
I got a glimpse of something real, she would shut down.”

  His forehead scrunched up, and he
rubbed it in frustration, the same gesture I saw this afternoon in the car. “I
tried everything to get her to trust me, to let me close. I even gave her a key
to my place, hoping she would understand that my intentions were serious. But
it didn’t work.”

  Julian’s shoulders suddenly
slumped in defeat. “I ended it, because I didn’t know who she was, and I
realized I would never know. For whatever reason, she needed to stay hidden,
and it’s impossible to get close to someone who forever needs to hide.”

  I considered what he said for a
moment. The look on his face this morning had been pained, but I also saw a
kind of longing. Her eyes had been hard, hostile, and she basically told me he
was a player. “Did you cheat on her?” I asked, my tone sounding more accusatory
than I intended.

  “No,” Julian said, without a hint
of hesitation.

  “Then why is she so angry with
you?”

  Julian pushed back a stray lock
of his wavy hair, and pressed his lips together. “I think she’s angry because I
ended it. She would have been perfectly happy to go on as we were. Like I said,
she has so many walls up. I think she was pleased with the sex, and with
playing the part of the beautiful, mysterious actress. And maybe most men would
have been satisfied with that. But I wasn’t. And I think she resented that.”

  I nodded my head slowly. “So you
left this smart, beautiful woman just because she was afraid of intimacy.” I
paused, giving Julian a hard look. “And now you’re chasing another woman who
you know has intimacy issues of her own. Isn’t this going to play out the exact
same way? You getting frustrated, because you can’t take down all my walls?”

  Julian’s eyes went soft. “Sarah,
with you, it’s different. I can see what your issues are. I can work with them.
I can read you. I can figure out what you want, what you need. Yes, you have
walls up, but I’ve also seen them come down. Like they did last night.”

  I felt myself get tense. “They’ve
gone way up again, Julian. And I don’t know if I’ll be as willing to let them
down again. This morning hurt me. Deeply. And when I get hurt, I explode, and
then I make sure my defenses are so strong it would take an army to break
through them.”

  Julian leaned forward, his eyes
going dark. “You need to trust me again, Sarah. Like I said last night. I’ll
catch you. I won’t let you fall. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to
you.”

  His words made my stomach
flutter, but then I hesitated. “What was Megan doing with you in the car this
afternoon?”

  “She called me at the office. She
was livid about walking in on us this morning, and she wanted to talk. I told
her I’d meet her in the parking lot, and we could discuss it over coffee. When
you found us there, we were just leaving. She said she still didn’t understand
what went wrong. She said she wanted another chance, but I told her I’d already
moved on.”

  I felt my lip start to tremble
again. “So this isn’t a rebound for you?”

  “No,” he said, looking deep into
my eyes.

  He reached out for my hand, and I
was about to take it, but then I hesitated again. “Why does everyone think
you’re a player? Even Megan. She told me straight out that I was just your
flavor of the week.”

  Julian pulled back his hand, but
he draped his arm across the back of the couch, and shifted closer to me.
“Sarah, I’m not going to lie. I’ve had my share of women. My share of casual
flings. Sometimes it is just about the sex. That’s the only thing that clicks.
But I’ve also had intimate relationships. I’m capable of loving someone deeply.
And when I fall, I fall hard.” His eyes became smoldering, and he reached again
for my hand. This time I let him take it.