Page 28 of The Toy Maker (The Pink Cherrie #1)
TWENTY-THREE
Everyone falls victim to wanting what they can’t have at least once in their life. The driving force almost always came down to the danger of getting caught. In some circumstances, disobeying the rules was the reward in itself.
That was why I ended up slumped on my couch and dreading facing the consequences of my actions. Because people loved forbidden things.
And I was no exception. Jason was, at the very least, a bad idea. Fucking a coworker usually ended in flames, but my boss? I had barely recovered from being unemployed the first time.
The world demanded my attention just as I shoved another Hot Cheeto into my mouth. I was obsessed, as if the heat could somehow burn away the memory of Jason’s hands on my skin—or his cock. The empty chip bag sat crumpled next to me on the couch.
My phone vibrated loudly against the glass coffee table, rattling and interrupting the depressing silence of my apartment.
I glanced at the screen but ignored it, opting instead to dig into a second bag of snacks.
Four missed calls later, my annoyance outweighed my apathy, and I snatched up the phone with a huff.
“Where’s the fire?” I grumbled, leaning back against the cushions. It was my day off, and I still couldn’t get any peace.
“There’s a hot new club downtown, and guess who got us in?” Sarah’s bubbly voice rang through the line, full of excitement. “That’s right, this bitch.”
I rolled my eyes and stretched out my legs, wiggling my toes against the scratchy fabric of the couch.
“Name?” I asked, already imagining the worst. The sketchy side of town had started to creep into places that called themselves respectable.
Business owners played the role of family men by day but hit the same strip clubs by night.
“That’s a surprise,” Sarah chimed. “Be ready by seven.”
My internal hermit hissed, but before I could protest, Sarah cut me off.
“No excuses. Squeeze your ass into something sexy. We’ll be there at seven,” Sarah commanded. It was her personal mission to get me out into the world, even if that meant taking an axe to my door.
I didn’t feel like exerting the energy it would take to argue. “Fuck you.”
“I love you too,” she giggled and hung up.
I leaned back on the couch, tilted my head against the worn cushion, and reminisced about the days when I intimidated people.
College had been easier—at least at first. No one knew who I was, and a quick scowl worked wonders at keeping strangers, or overly friendly classmates, at arm’s length. But you couldn’t really intimidate anyone who’d seen you strutting around in an LED thong. Those days were long gone.
I shook my head, trying to shrug off the creeping blues, and forced myself to find a silver lining. Having friends came with its perks. If it weren’t for Sarah, I’d still be face-deep in a pint of mint chocolate chip, hiding from the world.
While forcing myself to interact wasn’t my first plan, licking my wounds at home hadn’t eased my nerves. Submitting to Jason was satisfying at first, but regret was quickly sinking in.
His disappearing act triggered my change of heart. I had lived through Dad’s great escape, and Tristan’s when he left for college, leaving me to tend to Mom alone for the next two years. Not that Jason had made me any promises.
After digging through the leftovers piling up in my fridge, I attempted to find an outfit.
Reluctantly, I shuffled to my bedroom, flipping on the light.
The soft yellow glow illuminated the small space.
My unmade bed was covered in a mismatched pile of clothes I’d dumped there earlier.
I pulled open the closet doors with a wince.
Shopping had never been my thing, not even as a kid. My mom would drag me through store after store until I cried. Needless to say, I kept shopping to a minimum. I cursed myself for it as I searched for a Sarah-approved dress, throwing a few ensembles onto my bed and yanking them on for judgement.
I stared at the girl in the mirror and prayed the bar crawlers would avoid me.
Eventually, I settled on a burgundy fitted dress that hugged my curves.
It was the same one I wore to last year’s office Christmas party—the one where I accidentally walked in on Mr. Whelms cheating on his wife with his assistant, while she drank her weight in spiked punch.
Witnessing the shriveled old man boning his twenty-something desk jockey had poisoned the whole night.
I gazed at my toned ass, courtesy of Kitty’s fitness regimen, and decided to wear the dress out. It deserved to see some non-disgusting action.
Gathering my hair into a ponytail, I fought the desire to change back into my sweatpants. I did my best wallowing when I was at home, completely alone, and I had a lot of wallowing to catch up on.
But before I could succumb to temptation, someone knocked on my front door. I figured Sarah had arrived early to collect the missing piece of her slut squad.
The doorbell rang as I hurried to the door.
“Calm your tits, I’m com?—”
My mom’s brooding stare met mine as soon as I opened the door. She was older, with new wrinkles in the center of her eyebrows as they drew together, disapproving of me already.
I immediately froze, all the blood draining from my face, my stomach in one big knot. “What are you doing here?”
She flashed her most convincing smile. “A mother can’t come visit her daughter?” Luggage filled her hands as she pushed past me and into my safe space. “Such a lovely little apartment. I never would have guessed because of the neighborhood.”
Her dark eyes wandered over my life, scanning for a reason to nag.
“Why are you here?” I still had months before her annual Christmas lecture. She often compared living in the city to rolling around in a pigsty.
“I missed my angel, and after you said you don’t want to come down for Thanksgiving, I decided to come up.” She shrugged. She looked old and tired. Her eyes darted behind me, sizing up my messy apartment.
And then, before I could stop her, she dropped her bags by my kitchen counter and started wandering.
I rubbed my forehead and watched her tornado into every room.
“I do want to come, but I have to work,” I tried to explain, like I had already, five other unsuccessful times.
“Work at the job you refuse to tell me about.” She waved her acrylic claws in my face.
The temptation to blurt out my job title and watch her explode almost took over. Her expression would have been one for the books, but after the small sense of satisfaction, I would have to deal with hours of unsolicited life lessons.
I didn’t want to subject myself to that, or her habit of throwing dishes at our heads.
“Well…” I gave up on trying to send her away. She put on a pot of coffee, and I knew my mom wouldn’t leave if there was coffee in her grasp. “I made plans for tonight.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Male plans?” My mom wanted grandchildren more than she wanted children. I had known that for a painfully long time.
“No,” I sighed, my jaw ticking slightly. “Girl plans.”
“Oh.” She frowned in distaste. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You did have your eyes on that one girl, Susie, from down the street. You always wanted her to come out and play with you an?—”
“Not like that,” I cut off the anecdote before she could make it more awkward. “Friends from work.”
She gave me a sidelong look. “Well, if you think leaving your mother alone after she drove up to see you is appropriate, then you go right ahead.”
I froze for a moment, my hand twitching toward my bag. My heart raced, caught between the suffocating guilt she knew how to wield so well and the instinct to flee while I still could.
Before another word could leave her pursed lips, I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my purse, moving fast like someone escaping a burning building.
“Thanks, I’ll be home late,” I called over my shoulder.
The door shut behind me and sealed off the nightmare waiting for me whenever I came home. I had started a new life, several new lives, trying to avoid her, and there she was, waiting on my couch.
I ran into Kitty halfway down the stairs, her figure appearing suddenly as I steadied myself against the handrail. Her sharp, appraising gaze swept over me, taking in my slightly wrinkled dress and the hurriedly applied makeup I hadn’t had time to perfect.
“I didn’t expect you to be ready yet,” she said warily.
“Sarah told me to get dressed,” I replied with a shrug, adjusting the strap on my heels as I leaned into the handrail for balance.
Kitty’s lips curled into a grin. “She said I would need to drag you out of bed.”
She had no clue how close that came to being true.
“I was sort of smoked out of my apartment,” I said with a sigh, glancing at her to gauge her reaction. Kitty’s brow furrowed as she stared at me with a funny expression. “Forget it,” I added quickly, brushing it off with a wave of my hand. “Sarah will have my head if we’re late.”
A mischievous gleam sparkled in Kitty’s eyes before she led me down the stairs. “Believe me, you don’t have to worry about heads where we’re going.” She turned back and winked at me.
I rolled my eyes, half-smiling despite my anxiety, and smoothed my dress as we walked. My heels clicked against the wooden stairs, and each step took me further from my mother and closer to whatever strange, unpredictable night Kitty and Sarah had in mind.
At the bottom, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever came next.