Struck By You: Players (2 page)

BOOK: Struck By You: Players
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She still cried from time to time over him, and the last time was just over a month ago when she found out he and her cousin were moving in together.

“Well they didn’t come in together,” replied Angie. “He signed up as a trial guest this morning and Gloria was already in the studio,” she added.

“Has he been here before?” I asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” said Angie. “He wasn’t on the system…”

“Riley, can I see you in my office please?” said Serena interrupting Angie.

I rolled my eyes at Angie, grabbed my stuff and followed Serena. “Hello sis, how are ya?” I said as I sat down on the large brown leather couch in her office.

She closed the door quietly, sat behind her desk and checked her phone. She always did that to make herself seem important.

“What time does class start?” she asked, still looking at her phone.

“Rena, I’m sorry, I hit traffic, and I barely got any sleep last night. But don’t worry, everything is cool with the clients, you know they love me and the class,” I reassured her.

She put her phone down and smiled wickedly. “Was it that hunk you were telling me about on Saturday?” she asked.

I laughed. “Yeah, he called yesterday morning. Took me out to a lovely French restaurant and we had dessert at my place,” I said, casually picking up the latest issue of
Vogue
sitting on the coffee table.

“And?” asked Serena.

“And what?” I looked up at her. “We had a nice time, that’s all.”

“Seeing him again?”

I smiled. “Not likely.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of that?” she began. “I mean, don’t you want something serious again?”

“Why?” I shrugged my shoulders.

She sighed. “I don’t know Riley,” she replied. “It’s been three years since Jason. Aren’t you tired of these meaningless whatever it is you have with these men you meet?” she asked sitting back on her chair.

I looked at my older sister, put the
Vogue
down and smiled. “I’ve got to get some sleep before my next class sis. Mind if I use the Clarity Room?”

She sighed. “Riley, all I’m saying is…I don’t know…maybe give someone a chance, get to know them, not every guy is like–”

“Serena,” I said sternly, cutting her off before she mentioned his name again.

“OK, just looking out for my little sister,” she replied. “Yes you may and please don’t be late again,” she said going back to her phone.

My sister met her husband in her very early twenties and married him shortly after. Now at thirty, she and her husband have two kids. He is in finance, she owns a state-of-the-art wellness spa, and they are above and beyond happy. I know she means well, but I’m not like her – I’m not looking for commitment, a prince to sweep me off my feet, or someone to rescue me. I don’t get attached, and I don’t get hurt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

    
W
ednesday was supposed to be my day off from the spa but I got a call early in the morning from my frantic sister telling me that the 5 p.m. yoga instructor had called in sick and she had a full class with no one to cover it. I had to be at the bar at 7:00 tonight and I had a full shift till 2 a.m., which meant I had to shower, change, and drive to the bar directly from the spa and get something to eat on the way. As far as I was concerned she owed me huge for this.

Serena approached me as soon as I walked in the lobby. “Can you come in tomorrow morning?” she asked.

“I’m working till closing tonight Serena, I’ll be a wreck tomorrow and you know it,” I said putting my bag and garment bag away.

“Please,” she pleaded with her big blue puppy-dog eyes, “I’ll give you a day off next week, paid.”

I smiled. “OK, but I don’t want to hear it from you if I’m late and I want lunch at that fancy restaurant across the street, and you’re paying,” I said as I made my way to the studio.

“Scoundrel!” she yelled and I gave her the finger.

As soon as I walked in the studio I saw tall and handsome. He was in the middle of the room this time chatting up Stephanie, a petite brunette that I’d see from time to time at the spa. She was a pretty girl, outgoing, who smiled all the time. They seemed to be in deep conversation; she was definitely into him and listened attentively. She laughed and blushed once in a while, looking nervous and fidgety. He was cool and calm. The entire room was fairly quiet but you could barely hear what he was saying, yet she could hear every word.

As soon as I started the music he looked directly at me and smiled. He had a wicked smile, bedroom eyes that were so blue and intense they would mesmerize anyone. He wore a fitted black tank top and grey sweat pants that accentuated every muscle in his body. His biceps were beautifully defined by his light golden tan and his hands large and strong. Stephanie couldn’t stop staring at him either along with every other woman in the studio – he was indeed a gorgeous creature.

After class, I quickly made my way to the lobby to grab my stuff and put my microphone away. To my surprise, tall and handsome was already there talking to Angie.

“Your massage is booked with Gwen Mr. Hayes, the Spirit Room is down the east corridor. Turn left on the first hallway and a right at the second. There will be sign at the door,” said Angie passing him a large bath towel.

“Thank you,” he replied. “You said that was the Spirit Room?” he asked.

“You can follow me, I’m going that way,” I piped in. I could tell he was confused. The spa was a huge building and it was a bit confusing to get around.

“Serena said you were coming in tomorrow morning?” asked Angie.

I sighed. “Unfortunately yes.”

“I’ll give you a wakeup call around 7:30,” she said as I started making my way down the corridor.

“I owe you!” I yelled.

“This place is big and confusing and I promise you’ll never get used to it,” I said as I rapidly walked, while tall and handsome followed. He laughed. “You’ve worked here long?” he asked.

“Since it opened, so three years now I guess.”

He walked beside me now and wore the same cologne he wore on Monday when I bumped into him. It was subtle but at the same time it was overpowering, like him.

“You seem to be in a hurry,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I need to get changed and be at work by seven,” I said.

“Late yoga classes at another gym?” he pressed on.

“Not quite,” I said and smiled. I was not telling him where I worked.

“You don’t want to tell me, I take it,” he said. “You work in a restaurant.”

“Nope.”

“Factory? Although you don’t strike me as the type.”

I shook my head.

“A waitress?”

I stopped, looked into his eyes and smiled. “Your change room is right over there, Spirit Room is right behind you. Enjoy,” I said and began to walk away.

“I will find out, you know,” he said. I laughed.

“Highly doubt that,” I said and walked into the women’s changing room.

There was no uniform for my side job. The only requirement my boss had was that it had to be skimpy, sexy and could sell liquor. I was a bartender at a prestigious high class gentlemen’s club, if such thing was even possible. But it was. The club was mainly for fat wallets, business types, celebrities, lawyers, politicians were. The bar had private VIP rooms, private booths, wait lists, exclusive guest lists, expensive booze and high priced women.

My sister paid me well for my yoga gig. I worked three days a week at the spa and worked three nights at the bar. Have most of my days and Sundays off. I brought in enough money to pay for my downtown condo, my Camaro, bills and decent clothes. Some nights at the bar, I made more money than the strippers made themselves. I had a gift for flirting and it was where I met most of the men I dated.

My outfit most nights was a very short leather miniskirt, a corset, black platform stilettos, heavy makeup, my hair up in a messy bun and a black lace choker with the club insignia on the pendant that all the female servers and staff wore. It was tasteful, but I wouldn’t dare put it on until I got to the bar. I was always afraid someone would recognize it and be mistaken for something I’m not.

I put on my beige trench coat and by six thirty, I was on my way out.

As I quietly walked down the hall, I noticed the door to the Spirit Room was open. I stopped and looked at the reflection of the large wall mirror. Tall and dangerous was lying faced down while Gwen was working on his lower legs. He had nothing on but a towel covering his butt, his muscular arms folded and his hands under his face with his eyes closed. He was definitely in the zone – Gwen was amazing at what she did and the music alone made me relax just by standing there. I stood there, watching him sleep. There was something about him that reminded me of someone, and I felt it too on Monday when I bumped into him.

Suddenly he opened his eyes and smiled; he saw me looking at him in the mirror and then it struck me, he had a bit of resemblance to my ex – the way he walked, smiled at me, looked at me, even his body and his voice. I hadn’t seen Jason in over three years but after two years together, he was hard to forget, especially after what he put me through. I stepped back and kept walking fast out of there.

I felt so stupid on my drive to work. Now he’s going to think I have a thing for him like every other girl at the spa. The truth is I could bring him home if I wanted to, but there are certain rules I follow with the men I meet and sleep with. First and foremost, don’t ever sleep with anyone who reminds me of my ex.
 

 

 

 

 
Chapter 3

 

 

    
N
o matter how many times I washed my face, how many cups of coffee I drank, there was no chance I was going to resemble a human being this morning.

By the time I got home, it was nearly five a.m. I got a little tipsy at the bar near the end of the night and stayed up with my boss talking till the early hours in the morning. Paul was an interesting guy: he was an ass to most of the staff and even to me during work hours, but a complete sweetheart after hours. Paul was in his mid-forties; a very handsome man, divorced shortly after he opened the bar – his wife’s jealousy drove him mad and it got so bad that he had to end it. He was educated, had a degree in business and a degree in finance. Worked for big names and made friends in high places and suddenly the idea of the club was born. Now in business for over three years, he did very well for himself. I knew Paul was interested in me; he had asked me out in many occasions and I would have agreed, but my second rule was never to date someone I work with.

So this morning, I was teaching the nine and ten a.m. yoga classes. Somehow I made it to the studio on time, got myself another shot of caffeine and was ready to yoga.

The class was relatively small on Thursday morning at nine, so I thought it would be a great warm-up for the large class at ten.

Fifteen minutes into class Gloria, my regular ten a.m. yogi, walked in rushing to take a spot and making a lot of noise disturbing the rest. She looked frazzled and more of a mess than myself. Eventually she got straightened up and tried to keep up with the rest. She stopped at one point and looked like she was crying but then continued. She sat near the back of the room so it was hard for me to tell.

Class was over at 9:45. I saw Gloria putting her stuff away, still looking upset. “You okay Gloria?” I asked as I approached her.

“Uh yeah, sorry I was late this morning, I can’t make it to the ten a.m. class anymore,” she said, not able to look at me.

“Why, what’s going on?” I asked.

She sighed and looked at me, and I could see she’d been crying. “Please don’t judge me,” she said.

“Of course not,” I replied.

“I met someone earlier this week and I never do this, but he was so sweet, so smart and so hot…I took him to my place after he took me out for lunch,” she began and tears began to roll down her face. “And we had such a great time, the sex was amazing you know, I’ve never had a man handle me that way, he was just…” she continued. I put my arm around her to console her because by this point, she was sobbing.

“I called and texted him all day Tuesday with no luck, yesterday same thing. Last night I finally got a text from him, telling me that he was sorry but he didn’t mean to mislead me, he wasn’t looking for a relationship, he thought I was hot and that was that. He said he thought I understood and that we had a great time but that was the end of it.”

Honest motherfucker, I’d give him that.

“Was it that guy you left with on Monday after class, the new guy?”

She nodded. “I’ve never been played like that. He seemed so sincere. We have so much in common I just don’t understand, is it me? I must have turned him off somehow.”

BOOK: Struck By You: Players
7.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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