Chapter 35: Warm Words and Uneasy Exchanges

Friday, 11:29 am

It was the first time I’d stepped foot in my gym. “Jesus, this is a lot of space!” I said.

“It better be,” Erin said. “It’s one of the largest rooms in the apartment.”

“Yeah,” Tara said, her hands on her hips as she spun in a slow circle and took it all in. “Reckon it’ll do nicely.”

While she was distracted, I took the opportunity to check her out and appreciated the fact that Erin had done it again.

Tara Gellar was stunning. There wasn’t another word for it. She was Caucasian but had a soft, golden complexion that suggested she’d recently had some sun. Her almond-shaped eyes were a mesmerizing multi-toned hazel - a mixture of blues, greys, and browns that reminded me of a roiling ocean. She had a perfect Greek nose, with a slight upturn at the end, and her cupid’s bow-shaped lips were perfect - neither too big nor too small, and a softly defined jawline set above a slender neck.

Any of the ladies in my life could have walked the runway, but this was different. At 5’8” and with her classically beautiful, good looks and sleek build, Tara could have been picked up as a Victoria’s Secret model or in makeup commercials. The luscious mane of brown hair spilling down her back in gentle waves and gently applied makeup made her seem more unattainable. There was no way this girl was single. Jesus Christ ... Erin had better not have sent me another beautiful woman who was already taken! Was she telling me my dance card was getting a little full?

Tara wore tight jeans and a well-fitting T-shirt that said ‘Running late is my cardio’ across her chest. The hem stopped just short of the waist of her jeans, displaying two inches of tantalizing, sun-kissed skin. I suspected her entire ensemble was selected to ensure I knew how fit she was without being too obvious about what she was doing.

I couldn’t blame her. Erin had given me a brief backstory of the woman. She was from Australia and had moved to Los Angeles about two years ago after networking with a veteran B-list actor working on a project in the land down under. He convinced her to move to LA and train with him, claiming he could connect her with others belonging to the Hollywood elite. She’d done well for herself, attracting a few other clients, but had hit a wall in her progress. She was pulling in roughly $150,000 a year, which was decent, even in Los Angeles, but it didn’t leave much wiggle room for savings and business growth.

My personal trainer would start at $500,000 annually with paid insurance, a paid-for apartment in a high-end residential space, and all utilities paid. Her commute was almost non-existent. On top of that, Erin had arranged to fly her out here on my dime - first class - and put her in a nice hotel while she was here. It was a massive jump for someone like her, and I imagined she was salivating the entire flight.

However, if she was desperate, she wasn’t showing it. From the moment we met, she seemed at ease. She had an easy smile, and nothing in her posture gave me the impression that she was nervous, which impressed me. I would have been a wreck if I’d been in her shoes.

“So, what’s your first impression so far?” I asked.

“Would I be able to get some different equipment here?” Tara said, turning to look at me. It seemed like my heart skipped a beat every time she did that. It didn’t make things easier that her accent made her seem even more sexy.

“Why? Does the equipment suck?” I asked.

“No,” she said in that very Australian way, “there’s just a few pieces missing, is all.”

“Oh. Yeah. You can purchase whatever you think we need,” I said.

We weren’t the only ones in the gym. Chloe had been on the treadmill when we entered and was currently leaning against the wall, silently watching the conversation. Her tight lycra pants and sports bra showed off her toned stomach, and her arms were crossed over her chest. The sheen of sweat covering her light, freckled skin enhanced her tone.

Having arranged the entire thing, Erin was also present and seemed to get along well with my potential trainer. Then there was Bobbi, who had not said a word over the last twenty minutes that Tara had been here. I’d insisted that she hang around at least long enough for introductions. Considering she would no longer have a job, she would likely spend most of her time around the apartment. Bobbi was in great shape, and I wanted her to stay that way, so my personal trainer would be spending just as much time with her as with me.

Tara glanced at Erin, at Bobbi - especially the collar, which was currently blank, and then back at me.

“Not gonna lie,” she said. “I’m interested. It’s a lot of money and some really nice perks. I think we get on well, too.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I agree. You come highly recommended, and Erin says you check off all the boxes. Having seven years in Muay Thai is a big plus. The job is yours if you want it.”

She smiled, not looking surprised but definitely pleased. “Thanks. There’s just a couple of issues. First, my visa’s coming up for renewal soon.”

“You take the job,” I said, “and you won’t have to worry about that. I have a team of lawyers that can help you, and I’ll cover all the expenses.”

“Well, that was easy enough.”

“What’s the other?”

She hesitated, glanced at Erin and Bobbi, then said, “Can we talk? Just the two of us?”

“Sure. You guys mind?”

Erin and Bobbi moved to leave, but Chloe didn’t move.

“I hope it’s okay if my bodyguard stays behind,” I said as Erin shut the door behind her.

“Eh ... I guess so,” Tara said. “So, I appreciate the opportunity, but there’s something you should know before we close on this.” She took a moment to continue, and my imagination ran wild with possibilities. Was she about to tell me how her relationship status was ‘It’s Complicated?’ Was she secretly a man? My long-lost sister? My life had become crazy enough that I wasn’t ready to take any possibility off the table.

“I know what’s going on here.” She gave Chloe an apologetic look before continuing, “Erin ... Bobbi ... you’re sleeping with these women.” She paused, giving me a moment to respond. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, and her hesitance appeared more for Chloe’s sake than mine. Like Chloe, this woman was direct, but unlike my bodyguard, she seemed to have a bit more of an opinion on the nature of my relationship with the ladies.

When I didn’t respond, she moved on. “That’s not what this is going to be.”

Well, there went my dreams of having my hot personal trainer scream at me while I finished my third set of bench presses and then strip down for some hot, sweaty, after-workout sex. To say I wasn’t disappointed would have been wrong. Being as hot as Tara should be illegal, but it wasn’t like I was starving for female companionship.

I decided it didn’t matter. Even if sex wasn’t on the table, I still liked her and thought she would make an excellent addition to the team. “That’s fine,” I said.

She stared at me for a long moment, and I realized I didn’t feel nearly as awkward as I might have a few weeks ago. Old Marcus might have felt shame at essentially being called out for having sex with the women he hired, but that was becoming a thing of the past after having to explain myself to Emily. Being confronted by a woman looking for a job was infinitely less embarrassing than having to talk about the details of my complicated sex life with my sister. Especially after catching her fucking one of the women who was part of my sex life.

“Just out of curiosity,” I said, “and feel free not to answer if you don’t want to. Can I ask why?”

“I’m not interested in men,” she said.

So, I probably wouldn’t get lucky, but it looked like there was hope for Erin. In fact, she might have selected Tara for her own selfish reasons. I wouldn’t put it past her.

Friday 5:53 pm

I was in my study looking over an email from Chandler when there was a soft knock on the door. Then it opened, and Erin came in. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

“A couple things - people are starting to arrive, and I thought you might want to know that Natashya is stirring. She got some food and is eating in the media room.”

“Ah,” I said, standing up. I wanted to give her privacy when she was in her room, but if she was out and about, maybe she wouldn’t mind me trying to talk to her. “Where’s Emily.?”

“Taking a shower,” Erin said.

“Thanks, Erin.” I thought about talking to her about her decision to bring Tara in for an interview, but I wasn’t sure how long my window of opportunity with Natashya would be, so I decided it could wait until later.

“No problem, boss,” she said with a wink and a smile, then disappeared.

I headed to the media room, which was essentially a scaled-down luxury theater, and sure enough, when I opened the door and peered inside, I could vaguely make out the distinct shape of Natashya illuminated by the silver screen. Some old black and white movie was playing, and someone was ranting, “ ... she’s not like an automobile or an icebox or a piece of furniture or something you buy on time, and when you can’t give up the payments, they take it away from you!”

I slipped in and made my way over to where she was sitting, clearing my throat on the way to give her fair warning. It worked, and Natashya looked over her shoulder at me as she chewed on a mouthful of something that looked a little like chicken fried rice. She stared at me as I approached, and I stopped a few feet away. Neither of us said anything for a pregnant moment as the characters on the screen continued talking. Natashya just continued to slowly chew as she stared at me.

“I can leave you alone if you want,” I said.

She stared back at me for a long moment, and just when I was going to back away and leave, she sat her plate of food on the seat on the other side and patted the seat next to her. I sat beside her, and we both gave each other a long look before returning to the movie.

I never really understood the appeal of old movies. They all spoke in that strange, trans-Atlantic accent that made everything sound like a radio announcement. It bothered me. Plus, it was always the same four men in every movie. It was a product of its time, and I didn’t really get it, but I sat there and watched some of it with Natashya, unsure of how to start opening up about what happened to us in Vegas.

“How are you doing?” I finally asked.

She side-eyed me, and it felt like she thought my question was just as lame as I did. “I’m fine.”

I gave her a doubtful look, and she sighed. “Emily said she told you everything.

“She told me enough,” I said. “God, Natashya. I’m so sorry. I feel like this is all my fault.”

She shook her head and gave me a sad smile. “This is why I didn’t want to talk to you yet.”

That took me by surprise. “Because I’m trying to take responsibility for getting you kidnapped?”

“Yes,” she said. “Marcus, you did nothing wrong. Evil men came for you. They took you and beat you. I was with you because I chose to be, and they took me as well.”

“If I hadn’t-”

“If my uncle Alex hadn’t chased his friend across the street when he was little, he wouldn’t have been struck by a drunk driver,” Natashya said. “That does not make it his friend’s fault.”

That shut me up. It was a hard analogy to argue with.

“Can we please move past the part where you beat yourself up over this?”

Suddenly, I felt guilty for a different reason. I’d come in here and made Natashya’s situation about me. Whether I realized it or not, my priority had been confessing my sins to her in the hope of receiving absolution. I wanted her to take away my guilt, but instead, she pointed out the real problem. I wasn’t guilty of putting Natashya in harm’s way. I was guilty of being selfish.

“Fuck. You’re right. I’m sorry,” I said, then continued before she could respond. “Look, a huge part of why I came in here was to see how you were, though. I’ve been worried about you ... and don’t give me some trite answer about being okay because I know you’re not.”

She offered me a sad smile.

“I don’t need you to open up. That’s what my sister is for. Emily told me you’ve been through a lot and that you’re super strong, and that’s really admirable. I just want you to know that it’s okay that you’re not okay, and if you need anything at all, I’m here for you. Just say the word.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course,” I said. “I care about you. A lot.”

“I care about you too,” she said, “and I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

I waved her off, “Don’t worry about that. I get it.”

“No,” she said. “I mean it. You invited me on the trip, then paid The Starlight so that I could keep my job. You’ve been letting me stay here. You’ve done so much for me when all I am is a dancer you fucked in a strip club.”

“Hey.” It was my turn to cut her off. “You’re more than that.”

She leveled a look at me. “I told you I would not be a good girlfriend for you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “At the very least, you’re my friend. You’re not just some girl I met and fucked.”

She stared back at me with an unreadable expression, but her eyes shined brightly in the light of the movie, and despite the bruises on her face and the split on her bottom lip, she was still striking.

“You look as bad as me,” she finally said.

“Yeah, well, you look incredible.”

Something in her expression changed slightly. It looked like her eyes got a little brighter, and I got the distinct impression that she was fighting tears.

“The last time a man touched me,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, “was horrible. I would like a kiss ... to remind me that it isn’t always like that?”

“If that’s what you want,” I said back.

I placed a hand on her cheek, carefully testing the waters to make sure she was actually okay with being touched so soon after what had just happened. I caressed the mottled browns and blues that stained her creamy skin and paid careful attention to her reaction. She simply stared back at me and waited.

I covered her lips with mine for a sweet, closed-mouth kiss. It was different than usual; Natashya’s lips had always been moist, pillow-soft, and ready to wrestle or caress as needed. This kiss was closed-mouth and sweet, but her lips were coarse and dry from the damage she’d received, and the time spent in recovery tasted something faintly medicinal as I moved my lips gently over hers. She reciprocated, but her tongue stayed in her mouth as she applied a little pressure of her own.

The movie droned on as we kissed. “ ... please Judge, I’ll sell anything I’ve got until I get going again. And she’ll never go hungry! She’ll never be without clothes ... not so long as I’ve got two good hands, so help me!” Then it faded to black.

At that moment, the door opened, and light spilled into the darkened theater. Natashya and I pulled apart and saw Emily standing in the doorway in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. Her freshly washed hair hung around her face in damp clumps.

“Oh!” she said, stopping short. “I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean...”

“No,” I said, suddenly feeling very awkward. For a moment, as we kissed, I’d forgotten about the intimacy Natashya and Emily had shared in Vegas. Now that she caught us kissing, memories of seeing my sister’s nude form straddling the dancer resurfaced, and I found myself feeling very self-conscious about that fact. “It’s fine. We were just...” Just what? Talking?

“I should’ve knocked.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Emily,” Natashya said amusedly. “You live here now, yes?”

“I ... Yeah?”

“Then you shouldn’t have to knock. Besides, we were just kissing. I wanted Marcus to remind me that I don’t hate men now. That is all.”

Emily bit her lip and looked back and forth between the two of us. “Okay,” she finally said.

Was she jealous? Last we spoke, the nature of their relationship wasn’t anything serious. Surely, that hadn’t changed, and if it had, Natashya didn’t strike me as the kind of person who would do something she thought a significant other would disapprove of. Though, how well did I really know her?

I stood up. “Erin told me she was here, and I just wanted to take a few minutes to talk.” To break the awkwardness, I decided to change the subject. “Is that what you’re wearing for tonight?”

“What?” Emily said, looking down at her shirt. “Oh, no. Natashya said she wasn’t feeling up for a party tonight, so I thought I’d stay with her for a bit and then join you guys later.” She sounded relieved that I’d changed the subject. “Oh! I came here to find you, by the way. Mom and Dad are here.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I looked back at Natashya. “I should probably get going. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in meeting my parents.”

Natashya chuckled. “I’m not really a ‘meet the parents’ kind of girl. Besides...” she gestured to all the bruises on her face.

“Alright,” I said. “I’m glad I caught you.”

She gave me a small smile. “I am, too. Have fun tonight, and tell the girls I said hi.”

“I will,” I said and then headed for the door. I stopped by Emily, and she smiled at me.

“Tell Mom and Dad I’ll see them soon,” she said.

“I will.” I looked back at Natashya and said, “Take care of her.”

The reunion with my mom and dad was about what I expected. Mom greeted me with immediate concern, fussing over the bruising and noticing the slight limp I had, while Dad was more reserved with his words, simply giving me a hug and murmuring in my ear that he was glad to see I was okay.

Both my parents were tall. Mom stood at about 5’9”, while Dad was 6’3”. That was where the similarity ended; in every other aspect, they were opposites. Everything about my mother was loud - her laugh, anger, and joy. Dad always claimed they could never catch us doing anything wrong because we could hear Mom coming a mile away. She also had a fiery temper. She was the mama bear who would come running the moment one of us got into trouble as kids, ready to kill anyone who even looked at her cubs wrong.

Meanwhile, Dad was soft-spoken, slow to anger, and a great listener. He let us make mistakes and was always there to pick us up when we fell. Mom was a thunderstorm. Dad was a rock.

They looked different, too. Dad was white, with a permanent five o’clock shadow for a beard and hair he had started losing in his early thirties. By this point, he’d lost so much on his crown that he gave up the battle and kept it buzzed close to his scalp. Fortunately, he had a good head shape, and baldness suited him well. He was lanky and had kind eyes the exact shade of Emily’s. He wore a simple button-down shirt, a pair of slacks, and a cardigan.

Mom was black, with skin the color of milk chocolate and black, liquid eyes. Her raven hair spilled from her head in tight curls and framed a round face and wide smile. She wore a dress that reached almost her ankles, hugged her curves, and displayed a modest amount of her prominent chest - nothing like some of the dresses I’d seen on my ladies while we were in Vegas. She was a beautiful, full-figured woman of forty-five years old.

And then a thought struck me. Helen was only two years younger than my own mother. That implied many things I did not want to entertain at this exact moment. I shoved them out of my head as quickly and violently as possible and focused on Richie.

At seventeen, Richie was the baby. He was also the smartest and was likely going to revolutionize the energy industry or cure cancer or ... something. He had our mother’s eyes, our dad’s height, and a full head of hair he kept shaggy, much to our mother’s disdain.

“Hey, brother!” he said, giving me a hug.

“Hey man,” I said, returning it. “I’m glad you came with them. I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” he said and pulled away. “Hey! Marcus, this is Megan!”

Keeping his hand on my shoulder, he gestured to a young woman standing behind him. I smiled and extended a hand to what I assumed was my brother’s girlfriend, a tiny, waifish thing who probably stood little more than five feet tall. Her hair was a dark, coppery red and matched the liberal dusting of freckles over her cute, upturned nose and cheeks. She had a peaches-and-cream complexion that suggested the hair was natural. Bright green eyes were set in a slender face that suited her svelte frame. She wore an off-white tank top, a black skirt that stopped just above the knees, and boots that went mid-calf. Her breasts were so small that she looked nearly flat-chested. She was, in a word, cute as a button.

“Hi, Megan. It’s good to meet you. Marcus has told me absolutely nothing about you.”

“Aw,” Megan said with a pout and glanced up at her boyfriend. “Well, he’s been talking about you a lot lately ... and thanks.” She took my hand and smiled at me with a twinkle in her emerald eyes.

“Hey!” Richie said, “How’s this on me? He wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told him about you anyway.”

“That’s probably true,” I said, “I can already tell you’re too good for him.”

“Wow!” she said as she twirled a bit of red hair around a finger and looked up at him, giving him a grin. “I can see the charm runs in the family.” Then she cast a look back at me with a pair of ‘come hither’ eyes that almost knocked me off my feet. I did my best to ignore the look and put an arm around my mom, pulling her into the conversation.

We made a few more minutes of small talk before Erin arrived, looking stunning in a sequined, high-collar black-and-silver dress. She wore dark wine-colored lipstick and makeup, emphasizing her stunning deep brown eyes. Her silver hair was put into a bun that rested high behind her head, and the light hit it just right to show the soft sheen of lavender that wove subtly throughout her hair.