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Chapter 9
Carla
“What on Earth?” Misha mutters out, glancing at me like I know what’s going on. I shut my eyes firmly, silently berating myself for not telling Misha anything about Philippe. She’s been a good friend of mine for years, but every few weeks her and I would have a rendezvous to take the edge off. Especially if we haven’t had our itch scratched in quite a while. It’s much safer to be with a trusted friend than some random person you meet at a bar who could have any STD on the planet.
“Philippe isn’t just any man, Misha.” I say, not sure how to get my words out. She’s a simple owner of this burlesque club. She wouldn’t understand anything about my family, what we’re known for, or how this engagement was even put together.
“What does that mean?” Misha asks, crossing her arms.
“He and I are getting married.”
Misha’s eyes go wide, “Holy shit. I had no idea you were engaged. Jesus, I’msosorry I said what I did. No wonder he ran out of here upset. Shit! Go, get up and go after him!” Misha motions with her hands for me to get going and it’s like her motions are lining up with my thoughts. I felt the need to stay back and explain myself, but I know I need to go after him. Lord knows what is running through his mind right now.
I scoot over to the other end of the booth and chase after him in four-inch heels. My feet are killing me but I can’t be a little bitch right now. It’s my fault he’s upset in the first place. I make my way through the burlesque club and walk through the two double doors. When I’m outside, I look to the right and left not seeing Philippe within the distance.
“Fuck,” I hiss out, putting my hands up on my forehead in frustration. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I repeat, kicking the brick on the outside ofThe Tea House.
The distinctive sound of shoes hitting against the concrete, slowly getting closer. “You alright, sweetie?” I don’t recognize the voice, but I turn and see someone who I don’t know. He must think this is some good Samaritan bullshit.
“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.” What I’m saying is complete bullshit. I don’t really mean tothankhim. There are guys like him everywhere, ones that try to target pretty women coming out of clubs. I think most ladies see these guys are just trying to get a quick lay, but the small percentage of women who fall for this fake white knight bullshit is what keeps men thinking they can get away with it.
I pull the zipper on my small purse and grab my phone when I feel a pressure on my shoulder. “You don’t look like you’re okay, sweetheart. You a bit sad or something?”
I can’t fathom why this jerk thinks he has the right to touch me. “Get your hand off me!” I scream out as I face him. He raises his brows in shock for a moment but chuckles immediately afterward.
“You can’t seriously mean that. What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone, kicking this building, huh?” This guy looks like a typical asshole. He’s tall, white, has dark hair and equally dusky eyes.
I’m about to give this man a stern talking to when a familiar voice speaks before I do. “You heard the lady. Now, get lost.” Philippe hisses out, clearly not amused.
I’m a bit taken aback by him coming in to bemywhite knight. “Who the fuck are you, the asshole who made this lovely girl so upset in the first place?”
“Lovely girl,” I scoff, rolling my eyes. This dude obviously doesn’t know me. If he did he wouldn’t ever use the wordlovelyto describe me.
I expect Philippe to answer him because he’s one of those nice guys. Sure, he has a lot of power and I’m sure he knows how to use it . . . but he’s never used force around me. That is, until I see his fist flying into this dude’s face. Philippe knocks the guy back and as his fist comes out of my view, I see the guy’s nose is bloodied.
He brings his hands immediately in front of him to cover his nose, “What the fuck, dude?!”
“She told you to scram and you didn’t. Take a walk or I’ll make sure you can’t walk.”
The stranger laughs, throwing his head back and puffs his chest out like he’s preparing for a fight. “Oh, you some tough guy? You sure don’t look like one. You an investment banker, lawyer or something?”
For the first time since I’ve met Philippe I see him smile in a devilish way. “What do I look like to you?”
I take the opportunity to try and make my way over to Philippe when the stranger grabs me by the arm. He shouldn’t have done that. Philippe takes his fist back again and knocks it into this guy’s head. He moves back quickly, stammering for a moment and I dart over to Philippe. I’ve been in situations somewhat similar to this, but never have they been this intense.
“I’m not a fucking investment banker, but you’re going to wish I was.” Philippe snarls out at the guy, taking my hand in his we walk around the corner to where I parked my car and get inside after I unlock it.
I’m about to ask Philippe how he is, but he beats me to the punch. “Are you okay?”
I furrow my brows in confusion for a moment. “Me?”
“Yes, you. I can only imagine how uncomfortable that was for you.”
I nod, “Yeah, well you showed up at the right time, so thank you. I was going to ask if you were okay.”
“I’m fine. I’m just pissed. I didn’t realize my bride-to-be was a lesbian. It’s obvious after meeting another one of yourfriends.” Philippe tells me and I notice how his tone changes when he says the word friends.
I can’t help it but I let out a long giggle, grabbing his hand back in mine. “Philippe, I think it’s adorable you assume I’m a lesbian. Trust me, I’m not. I love men the same way I love women. Although that isn’t public knowledge so if you ever tell my family I will deny it completely. Does my answer clear up your thoughts?”
“Yes,” He responds, still sounding a bit irritated.
I decide to loosen things up a bit and make a joke, “If you want, we can go back inside and invite Misha over for some activities tonight.”
Philippe rips his hand away from mine, “What the hell? First I think you’re a lesbian and now you’re acting like a slut. I was fine with going outside of our traditional values and marrying an Italian woman, because I know just how important this alliance is for us . . . but I didn’t agree to marry a whore.”
I whip my hand back and slap him across the face, “I might be a lot of things but I’m not a whore. I’m a modern day woman who enjoys sex. I happen tolovesex, and I only have sex with people I know. I’m not going around being irresponsible in any way. Damn Philippe,” I grumble, pausing for a moment before I continue. “You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy it too. If we’re going to make this work you can’t be so bashful. We’re spending the rest of our lives together for fucks sake.”
“So, what . . . you’re going to want to be with women too?” I think about the question he’s asking me . . . one I never intended to have to think about. I knew I’d have to marry Philippe, but I never put too much thought into changing certain aspects of my life. “Fuck, you do. I didn’t agree to this, Carla.”
Philippe throws open the car door, slams it shut and darts off. I’m left sitting in my car alone, wondering how the hell all this just happened.
