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I was halfway out of the bedroom when I paused. What was I doing? If I hadn’t wanted this deep down, I would never have agreed. Sure, it had been embarrassing to have to face my faults and lay over his lap with my bottom bared. It had hurt to have my ass smacked, but I’d not only survived, the pain hadn’t lasted long. And if I were honest, I’d felt… well, cherished. And yet I already had an excuse on the tip of my tongue to explain my clothing choice. I was surprised to discover I felt ashamed of myself. Turning around, I pulled off my clothes and was reaching for the dress when I heard my phone ringing. It was Brett’s ringtone.
Grabbing it off the bed where I’d tossed it, I answered. “Hi, I was just getting dressed.”
“Sorry, babe, but I’m going to be…”
I could barely hear him for the sound of voices in the background. “Brett? I can’t hear you, when are you going to be here?”
“Late… if I get home at all.”
Sinking down onto the bed, I asked, “Oh, God. Are you deploying?”
“What? No, hang on.”
I heard him say something about quieting down and was aware of other people talking, but I was not really paying attention. My heart had started pounding when he said he might not get home at all. I tried to present a brave front when he was off on some mission, but inside I was always terrified.
“I just have something important to deal with. I’ve ordered a pizza for you. It should be there soon.”
Before I could ask what had happened, I heard someone else talking before Brett said, “Look, I’ve got to run.”
And he was gone.
I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. It hung down to my knees but it made me feel closer to him. The doorbell rang and I accepted the pizza. When I tried to tip the delivery guy, he shook his head.
“It’s covered. Major Griffith paid for everything when I delivered the other pies. Have a good night, ma’am.”
Other pies? What did that mean? Carrying the pizza into the kitchen, parts of the phone conversation bounced around in my head. Suddenly, I froze. I’d heard someone saying something about having found the cards and another voice calling out, “Griff, you coming? The guys are ready to kick some ass.”
Brett wasn’t coming home because he had something ‘important’ to do. Since when was playing poker something important? More important than our plans… more important than his supposed dedication to our commitment. A commitment that had me running my ass off, making a fool out of myself trying to make him proud, had me eating crow with women I’d been in charge of, and pulling out of projects I should be heading. Well, fuck that. I had more important things to do too!
I dialed Stephanie’s number, but she didn’t answer. Knowing how loud clubs could be, I’d wait a few minutes then try again. Leaving the pizza box on the counter, I was pulling off my clothes as I walked back to our room. Throwing his shirt on the floor, I rummaged through my closet and pulled on a dress, but not the one I’d originally chosen. Shrugging off my bra, I pulled on a red sheath with thin spaghetti straps. Pairing it with black heels, I applied more makeup, brushed my hair and then stood and looked at my reflection. The dress hugged my body and I smiled. I’d only been exercising for a week, but I would swear I’d lost weight. Would Brett be disappointed if I lost my curves?
No, he has more important things to do than hang onto those curves, remember?Picking up my phone, I dialed again. She still didn’t answer, but this time I left a voice message. “Hey, Stephanie, this is Hannah. Evidently I’m not important enough for Brett to keep our date. He’s ditched me for some fucking poker game. I’m not going to sit around like some damn dog begging for his attention. I’m dressed to kill and ready to party. Get ready to buy me that drink, or a dozen, Coach. I’ll see you soon.” I grabbed a smaller purse and transferred my wallet, brush, and lipstick to it before going out the door. Climbing into my car, I remembered she’d never mentioned the name of the club. Shrugging, I pulled out of the drive. How many clubs could there be on one street? Leaving the base, I turned the radio up loud and sang along, determined not to think about Brett as he sure as shit wasn’t thinking about me.
* * *
An hour later, I was beginning to rethink my plan. I’d thought I’d remembered where Brewster Street was, but it took me several times backtracking to finally connect with the street. Driving slowly, I shook my head as I pulled into another lot. Why would there be so many bars in one place? You’d think having so many choices would cut down on customers.
At the last light, I’d dug through my purse for my phone only to discover I didn’t have it. Evidently, I’d forgotten to transfer it to my new bag. I’d already gone into one club only to find it wasn’t a club… well, it was, but it was a strip joint. I’d stared at a gorgeous woman shimmying around a pole and then bending over, planting her palms flat on the stage and shaking her ass. It had been mesmerizing and honestly, I was a bit jealous at how toned she was. The only curves she had were her enormous breasts that didn’t seem to shake at all despite her energetic twerking.
“I can take your name for a lap dance.”
“What?” I asked, spinning around to find a topless woman grinning at me.
“She’s really good, and it’s only a hundred bucks,” the waitress said.
A hundred dollars! “Um… no, thanks. I-I was actually looking for some friends. We’re supposed to listen to a band?”
“Honey, the only thing to listen to here are the shouts of horny men, well, and some ladies. And you can’t just watch. There’s a two-drink minimum.”
“Oh… I’m not staying.”
“You sure? Angie is really good. Guaranteed to make you cream your panties or your money back.”
I could only blush as red as my dress and shake my head. “I’m sure, thanks anyway.” I could hear her laughing as I ran for the door.
The second club was more of a bar with still no signs of Stephanie or any band. I didn’t bother to go into the next club as there were only a couple of cars in the lot, which was very poorly lit. My stomach rumbled and I thought about the pizza that I’d not even bothered to open. Sighing, I was about to give up my quest to go home and heat up a slice when I saw Rocky’s. Red lights scrolled across a sign that said ‘Live Music and Ladies’ Night’. The parking lot was overflowing. This had to be the place. Forget pizza, Stephanie had said they offered free food too. Not seeing a single open space, I watched a truck pull off and park in the grass between the club and a dark building. Following them, I winced as my tires bounced over a curb, scraping the bottom of my car. I hadn’t realized there was a cement lip around the lot. It was too late now. I braced for the bump as my rear tires had to climb over the barrier. Seeing the couple from the truck already walking back toward the club, I shoved open my door and hurried to follow.
